Tumgik
#a pretty old but beautiful and sad song
tunedmusicvault · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
Ultraviolence- 1,000,000/10
Cruel World- 10/10
Ultraviolence- 10/10
Shades Of Cool- 5/10
Brooklyn Baby- 10/10
West Coast- 10/10
Sad Girl- 10/10
Pretty When You Cry- 1,000,00/10
Money Power Glory- 1,000/10
F****d My Way Up To the Top- 10/10
Old Money- 6/10
The Other Women- 11/10
Black Beauty- 1,000/10
Guns and Roses- 3/10
Florida Kilos- 7/10
Is This Happiness- 15/10
0 notes
teenytinyjimin · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)
nothing happened in the way i wanted
every corner of this house is haunted
and i know you said that we’re not talking
but i miss you, i’m sorry.
summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 2k
tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please
warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise
author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.
also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
Bars weren't really your thing.
If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.
Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.
Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?
Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).
You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.
You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.
"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.
"Hey."
You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.
"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.
As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.
"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."
"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."
"You know that stuff's bad for you."
"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."
"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."
"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"
"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."
"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."
You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."
"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"
"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."
"We aren't strangers either though."
"That doesn't matter. Not friends."
"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."
"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."
"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"
You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.
"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.
You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.
You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.
Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.
The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.
You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.
"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."
Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.
"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.
872 notes · View notes
desireesfics · 2 months
Text
the girl across the street.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: fem!reader x loser!ellie
summary: you’ve decided to move into a little house on ellie’s street, she sees you and almost dies from your natural beauty. being the big ass nerd she is, she decides to help you but continues to stumble on her words. instead of her helping you guys sit in your backyard for a bit and talk for hours only to find out you’re very similar.
warnings: none just fluff and ellie being a big loser.
a/n: ive been writing part 2 for ‘bad habits’ just wanted to take a break from it and write something i wanted to for awhile :)
Tumblr media
it was a beautiful sunny day, perfect for you to move actually. not to hot, not to cold, just right! you called the people and waited for them to come so they could pick up the boxes that were stacked in piles among piles in your parents house.
they came and you helped them with very little strength into the moving truck. (you js picked up the light boxes but the people appreciated it.) they offered a lift there but you politely declined and hopped into your car.
it wasn’t so hot, but you still felt the excessive need to put on the aircon. you turned up the volume as one of your favourite songs had just come on, opening the windows and turning off the aircon (since it would be such a waste).
the whole ride there was a vibe, you felt a little sad when you had to hop out but you were beyond excited to see what your new house awaited for you.
you’ve obviously seen the inside before when you were looking around, but you just adored the street, the house itself — everything about this place was just so welcoming and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your time here.
you looked around as you hopped out, the moving truck had gotten here before you and they were already effortlessly lifting boxes into your house. you admired the little garden that you could build on out the front of your house. there were flowers everywhere, and it just looked beyond beautiful.
you genuinely couldnt believe you scored such a place. i mean apart from the rent being so expensive, you were still super happy.
you were talking to one of the moving people when you saw a glimpse of a very handsome girl staring at you through your window. jesus, you thought. you zoned out, completely out of it like literally not listening to whatever the guy was rambling on about. you were just staring right back at the mysterious, beautiful girl through her window.
she averted her attention from your lower half to your face and got extremely flustered after realising you were staring right back at her.
‘fuck, she totally saw you looking! stop being a fucking idiot ellie.’ she repeated over and over, turning around, crashing her palm into her forehead and falling backwards onto her bed.
you stifled a giggle and the man thought you were laughing at him. he full on side eyed you.
‘s—sorry! what was it you were saying?’ you smiled politely at him. you were an angel in disguise is what ellie thought. pretty face, hair, clothes, body..
you were the definition of perfect. now you probably thought ellie was a big loser.
you didnt, actually the complete opposite of a loser. you thought she was beautiful, charming even. though you two have never actually held a conversation before, you enjoyed the thought of talking to her.
ellie really really really wanted to invite you over, maybe bring something over to welcome you to the neighbourhood. but she had no idea how to cook properly or even bake, ellie doesnt know how she lives on her own. but it already looked like her next door neighbour, marjorie, was already bringing freshly baked cookies over.
fuck marjorie and her old woman cooking skills, there goes ellies chance. she watched you embrace marjorie with a warm hug, your enchanting smile plastered on your face. she swears if she ever catches marjorie bringing over anything else shes going to fully box her.
‘cant wait til’ that old bat goes into a retirement home.’ ellie spat. its not like marjorie is so innocent either, she constantly tells ellie to dress like a proper woman, whispering to all the other old women on the street about her being a so called ‘dyke’. yeah screw marjorie.
ellie rolled her eyes and fell back onto her bed, only to go into a deep, well-needed slumber.
Tumblr media
the next morning, ellie had spent all day making a drawing of you, adding in all of your perfections, thinking whether or not to give it to you. she was in a deep ass ponder when she got a knock on the door.
‘marjorie, i dont have any more sugar!’ she yelled. then she heard your faint giggle. oh fuck.
she rushed up from her seat, completely forgetting to cover the very obvious drawing of you. she twisted the doorknob a couple times with her clammy hands.
‘h—hey! sorry..’ she stuttered. you just flashed her one of your smiles and came in. was she dreaming? why are you in her house? what the actual fuck is going on.
‘i uh, i got your text! you said you made something for me?’ you smiled again, this time it reaching your eyes. ellie looked so confused, like a lost dog.
‘i texted you?’ holy shit, holy shit. ellie was so baked this morning, she didnt actually mean to send that text to you. (please ignore the fact that reader literally didnt give ellie their number ellies just built different.)
her face dropped, all colour draining from it. ‘im so sorry, ‘i—i didint mean to actually send that text.’ she just babbled on and on and on until you glanced at her table.
‘who’re you drawing?’ you pointed at the table and she shuffled over to it. she shook her head and closed the drawing book. im such a mess, she thought.
‘’s no one.. not important.’ she smiled awkwardly. you just giggled, with your fucking cute mouth, she was internally dying, she felt so hot-headed.
‘oh! ellie, youre burning up! your face— its very red.’ you rushed over, concerned, oblivious to the fact that she was blushing over the thought of you.
ellie shook her head and shooed away your hands. she gave you a polite but very awkward, half-smile. ‘’m fine, its fine! i uh— dont wanna waste your time, you best be going.’
you frowned, was it something you did? why was she excusing you out of her house.
on the other hand ellie was stressing. ‘you best be going.’ who the fuck says something like that. she was staring at her feet, then she glanced up at your face and noticed the slight frown.
‘yeah, sorry. cya els!’ els? holy guacamole. she was even more red faced then before if thats even possible, the tips of her ears were quite literally bright red.
‘no-no wait, can you just maybe come by again tomorrow, i havent actually finished what i was making for yo—‘ shes said to much. you just stood there smirking.
‘so you did make something for me?’ she was completely and utterly dumbfounded. mouth agape and just nodding her pretty little head.
‘ill be here at this time tomorrow, dont fail me ellie.’ you grinned, you enjoyed teasing this “stranger”. not to mention she was completely ogling over you when she opened the door to you.
‘y—yeah!’ she swallowed hard. she waved as you left the house and you flashed her one of your stupid smiles with your pearly teeth that she’ll be thinking about for days.
well, ellie was officially fucked.
436 notes · View notes
hotvintagepoll · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Propaganda
Harry Belafonte (Carmen Jones, Island in the Sun)—one of my favorite things in the world when I'm sad is kicking back and listening to him and Danny Kaye singing "Hava Nagila" together. Or who can forget this man singing the Banana Boat song with the Muppets?? immensely talented, a powerful fighter for civil rights and humanitarian causes his whole life, if you have any remaining doubts PLEASE look at the following pics [clips and pics attached below]
Buster Keaton (The General, The Navigator, Sherlock Jr.)—For me Buster’s hotness comes not just from his physical beauty but in the constant surprise and contradictions of the man, he’s simultaneously delicate/rough, feminine/masculine, confident/vulnerable, 5foot5 pretty face with an unexpectedly deep voice, at first glance you think oh he’s a cute little thing and then he takes his top off and it��s Superman abs underneath. He was intensely shy in social situations but had no hesitation in jumping off the top of a building. He famously never smiled on screen* but he exudes warmth and joy and laughter. He created some of the most beautiful, intelligent movies ever made but refused to acknowledge his own genius and talent as an artist, instead maintaining that all he wanted to do was make people laugh. If he was here in reality competing in this poll he would give it 100% but he would not be at all bothered if he didn’t win. And that’s why he’s the hottest vintage man. A vote for Buster is a vote for all that is good and decent in the world 💕 (*he did smile on camera occasionally despite his own assertions to the contrary 😄)
This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Buster Keaton propaganda:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Just look at his freaking face...."
Tumblr media
This entire Tumblr page was submitted
This post
This video
"And for those who have never heard it, here’s his lovely voice in action: link"
Submitted: Link to Buster Keaton car stunts
Submitted: BK fancam
Submitted: quotes about BK video compilation
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Ripped body, gorgeous unique face, beautiful personality too"
Tumblr media
youtube
Tumblr media
Harry Belafonte propaganda:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
youtube
"Now let me say this about the songs of the Caribbean - almost all black music is deeply rooted in metaphor. The only way that we could speak to the pain and anguish of our experiences was often through how we codified our stories in the songs that we sang. And when I sing the 'Banana Boat Song,' the song is a work song. It's about men who sweat all day long, and they are underpaid, and they're begging the tallyman to come and give them an honest count - counting the bananas that I've picked, so I can be paid. And sometimes, when they couldn't get money, they'll give them a drink of rum. There's a lyric in the song that says, 'Work all night on a drink of rum.' People sing and delight and dance and love it, but they don't really understand unless they study the song that they're singing a work song, a song of rebellion." -Harry Belafonte
Tumblr media Tumblr media
youtube
726 notes · View notes
Text
The White Rose of Jerusalem ~ King Baldwin IV x Reader
Summary: As a young girl, Y/N had the honour of marrying the King of Jerusalem, just before the healers found out of his fatal diagnosis. Though she had the choice of backing down from a fruitless marriage, she remained faithful to the young boy-King who captured her heart.
Tumblr media
Note: I know the chance of people knowing this movie are very slim, but I was long fascinated by King Baldwin IV and re-watching this movie for the N-th time only reinforced that notion; And I’m too hyperfixated to study for exams, so I gotta do this.
Tumblr media
Note 2: I have two endings in mind, one with a happy ending, which will be the default one, and another, with an angsty, sad one, which I will be writing under a line and a warning. :) Hope you’ll like it!
Tumblr media
Note 3: The lyrics from the Angsty Ending come from the song ‘Luthien’s Lament’ by Eurielle, with some words alternated, to fit the story. Hope you like it, and that you will be compelled to check out her fantastic work! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4F3X5CrPn8I
Tumblr media
She was just a little girl, not even a decade old, when she was chosen as the most fitting candidate at being the future wife of young lord Baldwin IV, the future King of Jerusalem. A beautiful lad with long locks of gold like a field of wheat shining in the summer sun, and eyes as blue as the celestial azure sky, fair skin, flawless and angelic like that of the most beloved seraphim, and a voice so soft and tender that would put anyone to ease.
Princess Y/N was so nervous - How could she possibly compare to... How could she possibly become good enough to stay around the future King of Jerusalem? Her worries were plaguing her mind so much, that she simply stared at him, with the eyes of a scared fawn, completely forgetting that she was supposed to do a pretty courtesy and speak.
But the boy could see your pretty face as pink as a lovely flower in bloom, from something as silly as nervousness around him; He chivalrously offered his hand for her to take, and he guided her away from the wave of adults they were surrounded by, and outside, to the lush gardens of Jerusalem where there was nobody to bother them. He hummed idly and scanned the place, before abruptly stopping in from of a bush, and cut a single white rose, which he de-thorned and put in her hair. “There, a beautiful flower, for a beautiful lady.” she couldn’t help but cast her eyes down, unable to meet his. “You see, out of all the flowers in the world, I think a white rose fits you best.” he smiled down at her. “Do you know their meaning, My Lady?” Y/N began biting on her bottom lip, whilst her fingers were anxiously fidgeting and picking at one another. “Forgive me for my rudeness, Your Majesty. I did not mean to disrespect you with my silence and awful behaviour.” The young lad tilted his head to the side in confusion, before reaching out to her hands, holding them dearly. “You have not offended me, My Lady. Still, I would like to request you not to harm such beautiful hands. I have never felt anything as delicate as them, not even flower petals.” her timidness was adorable, he noted. “You need naught feel uncomfortable around me, nor abide to such formalities. I would like for you to speak freely - You are soon to be my lovely wife, and I wish for you to become my confidante.” Baldwin could feel her hands tightening their grip slightly on his own. “I am asking again, whether or not you know the symbolism of white roses -- May I call you by your name? I wish for you to do the same in return.” “Y-Yes, of course, Your Majesty, you may call me as you wish.” the boy’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Baldwin. My name is Baldwin. Do call me that.” the alarmed look in those gorgeous eyes of hers, that resembled the most precious gems, only made him realise the overly strict upbringing that she had, so afraid to step the wrong way, or do any kind of misdeed, in fear of being punished, or quite possibly, bringing about Armageddon. “I-I could never show such disrespect to the future King of Jerusalem!” the boy let out an amused exhale, before gently raising her chin up to have her look at him. “Y/N. We are going to be married. For you, I will not be the King. I will be your Husband. If the two of us do not trust each other whole-heartedly, then who else can we trust?” Baldwin finally felt a little satisfaction once she finally dared meet his sight, only for her to bow to him deeply, which once again, confused him. “I wish I will one day end up being a person that you can rely on... Baldwin.” the childish smile of glee that the boy held made her heart leap. “I do not know much, but I wish to learn everything. I was limited in everything I was taught, in detriment of becoming the perfect wife and mother, fit for the King of Jerusalem, so much so that I forgot that I am allowed to live for myself.” “Then I will teach you how to live.”
Though she continued to be as shy as ever, barely capable of speaking up, especially to adults, Baldwin was graced with the most dazzling smiles from the young beauty, whom he’d teasingly call ‘My Wife’ with every chance he got. They were so adorable together, and so very in love with each other, that his elder sister, Sibylla, although jealous of their happiness, would often declare them as ultimate soulmates. They were glued to each other.
It was Baldwin who encouraged her to approach the horses and tend for them, and it was his instructors who taught her how to ride, so that they could ride together whenever they wanted to have some fun, by themselves; The young Price could see the remarkable bond she had made with all of the horses she took care of - Only the most gentle person could create such a connection with a sensitive animal like that.
They would write and recite love poems for each other, though the boy was much bolder than her, and would have to read her love confessions himself. In spite of that, she was content with singing for him, which would, in turn, urge him to ask her for a dance, outside, in the gentle moonlight.
Though he wasn’t one for painting, he loved all of the flowers that Y/N would paint for him - She only ever liked drawing flowers of all kinds, and pretty landscapes; And he would hang around all of her most precious masterpieces in his own bedroom.
They were doing everything together, to the point that Sibylla felt a little lonely, but Baldwin became even more enamoured with Y/N during one evening, when he was pondering over a chess puzzle made by one of his instructors; And there she came in, like Virgin Mary herself, brightening up his dimly lit room. She towered for a few seconds over the chess board, and moved a single piece before flicking over the enemy King piece. Baldwin looked up at her, then back at the board, and up again in complete disbelief - Such an easy solution, yet he kept overcomplicating a thousand useless and difficult ideas, only to end up with no outcome except for his own ultimate failure.
The boy shot up to his feet and engulfed his lady in his arms with so much love, kissing both of her cheeks. “You are a fantastic strategist, my rose! You are going to be my most treasured advisor!” “Oh, I could never - I just moved a piece, nothing that great!” but the boy shook his head vigorously.  “Nonsense! I’ve been losing nights over this, and I couldn’t figure it out! If it weren’t for your insight, I would have continued to agonise over it.” he explained tenderly. “Even the wisest of kings need new opinions and views.” “Then, I hope I will continue inspiring you in the future also, and that you will see me as worthy of staying by your side.” the boy could see small tears gleaming in her eyes, though she held the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen. “I wish for nothing more than to see you succeed and be known in history as the best King that Jerusalem ever had.” with a burst of boldness, she embraced her fiance tightly, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck. “I love you.” “Generations forward will be hearing of the wisest and most supportive Queen of Jerusalem, the one who equally reigned alongside her King; the one so kind and caring that all our people will look up to her.” he smiled tenderly, his hand caressing her soft locks. “Just like the purest white rose, so innocent and beautiful, wise, enlightening, intelligent, inspiring of hope, compassion, peace, humility, understanding, tranquility.” cupping her face, he tilted her head so that he could touch his forehead to her own. “And representing of an eternal love, genuine and unbreakable.” his voice was so soft, so loving. “I love you.”
But this love was soon going to be put to test on one day, when the young prince was outside, playing around with other noble boys, while Y/N was making flower crowns and embroidering with the girls. The boys would pinch each other, and rough each other up, scratch and slap their arms; They made so much noise, crying out, whining, whimpering and yelling from paint, but it was Baldwin alone who uttered no sound, and remained as quiet as the lake.
“My love, you are bleeding!” Y/N rushed to his side, stopping his friends from continuing to play around.  “Oh, is that so? I have not noticed.” he looked down at his arm, examining all the marks left on his skin, and although they looked painful, he could barely feel anything more than a simple pressure. He could barely even feel her touch. “Have not noticed?! Your whole arm is in awful shape!” the girl shook her head in worry before turning around to look for any of his mentors. “Lord Godfrey! Lord Godfrey, please do come over!” once the man stepped in front of them, Y/N explained what happened - From the concerned look that the adult tried to conceal from them, the girl realised he suspected something with a grim epilogue.
The young prince was treated by the royal physicians the whole day, while Y/N remained alone in his room, pacing around aimlessly and agonising over the truth being concealed from her, yet after many hours, when the Moon took over the skies, and the stars were twinkling the brightest, Baldwin was returned to his bedroom. As Y/N tried to run over and engulf him in her arms, she was stopped by Lord Godfrey. “Princess, I know that you cherish the Prince dearly, but I bare terrible news. His Majesty is being suspected of a disease called leprosy. It would be unwise for you to keep in direct close contact, as you would be at high risk of also getting this curse.” Y/N looked up at the adult with tears rapidly streaming down her face. “It’s alright, my dear rose. I value your health and life above all else. If being apart will ensure your safety, then I am content.” “Don’t you dare say such blasphemy!” it was the first time Y/N ever raised her voice above that sweet, comforting mutter of hers. “Am I not your wife? Your soulmate? Your confidante?” she asked in disbelief. “I have promised I will be staying by your side, until the end of times - The amount of years matters little - But there is no life worth living if you are not in it. I would much rather live a short life, and be able to support you for as long as God may keep you on this Earth, than live a long life, cursed with not being able to see you again.” Even a hardened Lord like Godfrey could feel his heart trembling with emotion at the loving confession from the young lady, who fell to the ground and hugged the boy’s legs. “Please, my love, do not drive me away from you, unless you grow to hate me, and should I ever be so awful that I may make you despise me so, then may God strike me down where I stand, for I could not bare to be torn apart from you.” “Y/N, my love, please, never kneel before me. Out of all the people that I may be reigning over, you alone, shall never kneel.” Baldwin had to gulp down his emotions, though he felt light-headed from such a bold and heart-wrenching confession, and he helped her get up. “I do not want to give you this wretched curse, but I would be a liar if I were to say I were not selfish, for I want to hold you in my arms forever, just as before.”
The realisation that half of his right arm and the hand were completely numb completely shattered his father’s heart, and he had the best physicians, maesters, priests and what not to treat him with oils, ointments, poultices and even charms, yet nothing worked. Though Baldwin had quickly gotten used to the idea, Y/N continued being in denial, and took over most of the physicians’ work, entirely, from then on. She was his wife, and she wanted to take care of him for as long as they had together; She simply loved him so much, and this disease was killing her, more than it did him. Such an intimate thing, touching his skin, cleaning it with herbs and oils every morning, lunch and night before sleep, and she would wash his feet and hands, just like Jesus did to all of his apostles in the Bible. Baldwin felt himself wanting to cry - The love of his life shouldn’t feel compelled to take care of him like that; That’s what servants and healers were for; Yet all the same, he felt so grateful for having someone who loves him so much...
But with so much love, comes the uncertainty of the future, and when he stops being the beautiful Prince that he is now, and becomes blind, disfigured, and loses feeling in all his limbs, will she remain by his side? His heart will never stop loving her, and although the selfless part of him hopes that she would run away and find someone better, some handsome knight or lord to take care of her, someone healthy and with many decades ahead of him... He was still human, and he was selfish. He wanted those few years he has ahead of him to have her by his side, until he does not open his eyes to see the daylight again.
Years passed and tragedy struck Baldwin and Sibylla, once their father died and the young boy of thirteen had to be crowned. A mere boy of thirteen, forced to become the ultimate leader of God’s Kingdom of Heaven, with Raymond, count of Tripoli’s help through his regency, and the unshakable support of his wife.
Baldwin and Y/N stood straight and tall, with the grace and elegance befitting the King and Queen of Jerusalem, though the pressure was weighting heavy on their shoulders, and the lives of so many people, and their Holy Land, were in their hands. The archbishop stepped behind Baldwin and did a cross-motion over his forehead and said a prayer, before putting the crown over his head. “Behold, your rightful King and heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Long live the King, in prosperity!” people chanted ‘Long live the King!’, though it felt more like mocking, given his condition - Granted, the people were unaware of his leprosy, save for the physicians and the closer advisors - They had to be kept in the dark, at least until his coronation... What will happen further, was a mystery. The crowned Baldwin took the other crown from the pillow and stepped next to his beautiful wife, dressed so formally, with such grace and etherealness, that she looked akin to an angel. “I, Baldwin IV, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, choose Y/N L/N, the woman to be my wife, and with the help of God, she will rule her people with the same love and kindness as always, and continue supporting me wisely. Long live the Queen, in prosperity!” as the King placed the crown over her head, the people chanted ‘Long live the Queen!’ again and again, awaiting for their King to sit on the throne and be given the scepter and  globus cruciger, whilst the Queen was standing up next to him.
That evening, Baldwin and Y/N were finally allowed to formally spend the night in the same room, without earning scrutiny from the religious people around, who were bound to gossip senselessly. Wearing their sleeping clothes, the King was laying on his side on the bed, watching his Queen embroider a handkerchief, with his name written with golden thread. “Are you happy, Y/N?” the boy asked, suddenly. “I am happy that you have not forced me to abandon you. But I am not happy, knowing that your disease is disallowing you to live a normal life.” she answered with such ease, that it sent a shiver down his spine. “You are supposed to answer personally, not with tying your answer to someone else.” Y/N shifted her gaze upwards, a cheeky side-smile gracing her beautiful features. “And what if my happiness is tied to this certain ‘someone else’, as you like to call yourself?” she challenged him playfully. “Then, I would call you a fool in love.” he chuckled, smiling fondly at the girl. “And I would be guilty of the same charade.” “There is no room for guilt in love, my darling. Though duty is the death of love, I am allowed to make my own choices - This liberty, it was you who had given it to me, and for that, I will be eternally grateful.” she explained, placing the handkerchief on the table, before stepping by the bed and kneeling, leaning on the edge, their faces so close to one another. “You could have gone home with your parents, yet you chose to disobey them, and remained the wife of a leper, willingly. That was a silly choice. I am going to make you the youngest widow in history.” he spoke bitterly, and though his hand reached out to cradle her cheek, it ultimately fell down on the sheets, afraid to directly touch her skin, in fear of passing the illness. “And I will regret only not having met you sooner, and the cruelty of God, for taking his most beloved human so soon into his Eden.” Y/N took his hand and kissed his fingers, before placing his palm on her cheek. “But loving you, is something that I would do over and over again, if given the chance.” “I do not deserve you, my sweet rose.” he felt himself breathless, every time he heard her speak such tender words addressed to him. “Remember what you told me, so many years ago, to encourage me to live for myself?” he only wished he could feel her soft touch playing with his fingers so dearly. “Howsoever you are played, or by whom, your soul is in your keeping alone.” she cited him so perfectly, word by word, that is genuinely surprised him, after over 5 years, that she remembered his advice. “Even though those who presume to play you be Kings or men of power, when you stand before God, you cannot say - But I was told by others to do thus - Or that virtue - Was not convenient at the time -. This will not suffice.” “To think that so many years would come to pass, and you still continue to surprise me.” though he wanted to chuckle, this body froze entirely once Y/N climbed in bed next to him. “Y/N -- If you contract this curse because of me, I would never forgive myself.” “The Saracens say this disease is God’s vengeance against the vanity of our Kingdom. As wretched as lepers are, the Arabs believe that the chastisement that awaits you all is going to be far more severe and lasting, once you are thrown in hell. If that is true, I call it unfair, and that God is nothing but a farce, and life, a cruel joke.” she snorted unceremoniously, before laying down and cradling his body flush against her own, his head resting comfortably on her chest, and she was soothingly playing with his hair, lulling him to sleep. “To hell with anyone who can consider you anything less than an angel, for you are the kindest man I have ever met, and Jerusalem is lucky to be under your rule. The way I see it, God must have thought you so worthy of joining the highest angelic ranks, that he was unaware of a faster way of taking you to his side. It is, after all, the prettiest of flowers that we are quick to pick first and show-off to others, before they wilt in our hands, and we throw them away.” “I am truly honoured to have someone like you hold such sincere feelings for me, and speak only superlative words regarding me. I feel better, knowing that you do not think me lesser, or unworthy, in spite of this misfortune.” though his limbs were gradually getting numb, he could feel ever part of her body touching his own. “Y/N.” he called out her name, cuddling into her, like a cute kitten seeking comfort and warmth. “I am happy.” he was deathly afraid that he could somehow transfer the disease to her, but in that second, his senses were drowning in her love. “You make me happy.”
But the boy at three and ten winters, barely crowned and orphaned, had not expected to grow into the respectable young King that he became by the time he reached sixteen years of age, though by now, the entirety of Jerusalem was calling him the Leper King - They found out the inevitable truth of his condition, and despite the wretched ostracizing that all of those commonfolk cursed with this skin disease, he was able to show that a noble, wise, kind and strategic King and deserved all the respect of the world.
The young King had all of his advisors around him, telling him of all the risks, the cons and pros of going to war against the powerful leader Salah al-Din; They were greatly outnumbered, but if they weren’t going to war, the odd were high that Jerusalem would fall to the Muslims. Sitting on the throne, Baldwin felt himself unconsciously raising his hand to his forehead, feeling a migraine creeping, from the overwhelming amount of shouting and unnecessary bickering and arguing between each notable knight, commander and representative of each army under the command of the King of Jerusalem. He wasn’t one to raise his voice, nor did he bother - At the end of the day, men were going to continue being men, and they will continue trying to dominate and overpower each other.  At some point during that abysmal meeting, he noticed the frown on his Queen’s face, clearly irritated that the adults were creating more problems than offering good advice for him, and she could barely keep herself under control not to jolt up to her feet at yell at them to stop behaving like petulant children. Alas, neither of their Royal Majesties were known to raise their voice or even get angry at their subjects; After all, it would be beneath them to stoop so low, when virtue was everything they were supposed to embody.
By the time they returned to their shared chamber, Y/N sighed dramatically, complaining about the unbecomingness of those nasty advisors, whilst Baldwin couldn’t help but chuckle at her reaction. His sweet rose truly was adorable in everything she did. Instead of laying on the bed, the young lad sat in front of his chess board and stared intently at the pieces laid in wait to begin a game. Suddenly, a brilliant idea knocked him into a new sense of giddiness. “My sweetling, would you be willing to brighten my day by engaging in a game of chess with me? I cannot think of anything better that could relax me after such unnecessary stress.” His wife smiled at him with that loving tenderness, as she sat opposite of him and urged him to begin the game by moving his piece first. Baldwin carefully moved each of his pieces so that he would create the ultimate strategy, not only for his own side, but manipulate the girl’s pieces into well thought-out spots. In the end, it was Y/N who won the game, but it was him who started cheerfully laughing in triumph. “Never once have I seen a man so happy to lose a game.” Y/N smiled lightly. “What have you concocted, you little weasel?” “The game we just played, my love, contained my strategy for the upcoming war with Salah al-Din, with my side being the Muslims, and yours, Jerusalem.” he exclaimed with glee, getting up from the table. “Jerusalem will prevail once again!” “How cunning of you! Never once during this game have I thought you would be manipulating me into playing my pieces the way you wanted me to. You are wise and intelligent beyond your years, my love.” she praised him, stepping in front of him, and gently placing her hands over his face. She could see the way his disease was rapidly and heavily affecting him, and that once angelic face of his was now scarred and ulcerated beyond anything that the physicians resoluted or predicted. He had to learn how to guide his horse with his knees, instead of the tugging of the reins, as he lost feeling in his right arm completely, and the disease was quickly afflicting the skin of his other limbs also. “And neither will the Muslims, my sweet rose. They will be unable to retaliate, and will have to retreat back to Cairo.” despite all of the scars, and the way his golden hair was beginning to fall out and lessen, that adorable, boyish smile of his remained as charming as ever, and his crystal eyes were just as bewitching. “Will you please allow me to follow you in this crusade?” Baldwin was tempted, as her enchanting fawn eyes were his biggest weakness; His ration and wish to protect her was above even that, however. “I dearly wish to never be apart from you, but my love, you are the Queen of Jerusalem, and with me gone, there will be no one that I trust to rule the Kingdom. I need you here to rule over our people and keep them safe.” Y/N simply sighed and rested her head on his chest, her arms gently around his body. “As always, you are right, of course - If only that you weren’t! How many sleepless nights of worry will I endure, and nightmares shall plague me, until I receive good news from a dove, and am allowed to rejoice your victorious arrival?” the King chuckled softly, resting his chin on the top of her head, reciprocating her embrace. “How dramatic, yet poetic - I am honoured that you worry so much about me, but you needn’t, that is my oath to you. With your aid, my strategy will prevail, and with God’s providence, I have the courage to mount my horse and lead our people to victory.”
And true to his affirmation, the young King rode valiantly into battle, at Montgisard, and just as the strategy dictated, they gave the Muslims a run for their money, returning to Cairo very much defeated, and barely with a tenth of the initial army. Christianity had prevailed once again, and God had not turned his back on them yet.
“You should have seen me, my love, with the Holy Cross shining brightly with the light of Heaven, leading our army to victory! It was such a fantastic win, that I felt powerful as never before! I felt truly blessed and empowered - Like I will be walking the sacred lands for a whole century, and fighting for our faith!” the young King was laying his head in her lap, as she played with his golden locks; Whenever hair would freely fall off in her grasp, she would quickly throw it away, so that her husband wouldn’t have to see the way his beauty was being forcefully taken away from him by the cruel claws of Death. “If all the most beloved Kings were to live for centuries, our world would be a better place. You, especially, deserve to live for many, many hundreds of years, a prodigy above all else, and loved like no other before you.” his grin couldn’t be wiped from that pretty face of his. “Ah, if only that were true, my darling!” he exclaimed. “Now, I only wish to settle my sister with a new husband, deserving of her. With the death of William de Montferrat, and the birth of my little nephew... Sibylla is all alone, and named the heir to the throne once I am no longer.” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have to take her with me on public affairs, so that the people would get used to her being the next ruler - But she is so against everything I try to do for her.” “Sibylla is still young and very beautiful, my darling, there is no need to worry over her future husband. I know time might not be on our side, but it is on hers. She will be fine, I assure you.” she leaned down to place a small kiss on his forehead. “I only pray that you are right, my dear. I love my sister dearly, and I only wish her the best.”
That wish, however, was never going to become reality, as come 1180, an adventurer under the name of Guy de Lusignan found his way in the Holy Land, and seduced Sibylla into marrying him. Baldwin was angry as never before, and even threatened to hang him for daring to debauch the Princess of Jerusalem, yet the tears of his sister and mother were enough to break his resolve and agree to this marriage out of love. That was the first mistake he did, and one that could never be rectified. Guy was a man that earned the scrutiny of the whole realm faster than any man before, and became the most despised being in the country, by all, except for his wife.
By this time, the King was turning twenty years of age, yet he knew he wouldn’t reach to see his age change its prefix again. His condition had gotten so severe that he completely lost feeling in his limbs, and he wasn’t allowed to travel. Not only that, but the skin ulcerations were so drastic, and his face was so disfigured, that he had the blacksmith forge a silver mask for him to wear at all times, and his body was bandaged in its entirety, and robed in white, covering himself whole. It was only his wife, Queen Y/N, that was allowed to gaze upon him, as she continued the ritual of bathing his sores and treating them.
Every day of his life, King Baldwin was happy that he hadn’t given his most darling white rose this accursed disease; Likewise, every day of her life, Y/N continued to pray to God that he may spare her beloved husband and cure that curse that afflicted his body and health - He was a worthy King, and most capable; one the likes that Jerusalem had never witnessed before - Surely, he deserved a blessing!
God, however, did not discriminate when it came to life-taking and misfortune. Be it King or peasant, Lord or fisherman, all had the chance to get sick and die before their time, no matter their worth, faith or the amount of good deeds done whilst roaming the earth.
The stress and all the incompetent people that advised him were none the wiser, and they only dug him an early grave, with all their arguing. Not only that, but Sibylla continued to deny her brother’s wish of divorcing that good for nothing scoundrel - The whole Jerusalem was against him and his lack of sense - Were he to become King, he would destroy the Kingdom of Heaven in a day. She was a fool in a love, but not like himself and Y/N. The Queen was right - Duty is the death of love, but the reverse was also available. Were Sibylla a simple woman, a merchant, or simply a living being without any responsibilities on her shoulder, her devotion would have been most applaudable - But she was the heir to the throne, and she had duties to the realm, she couldn’t afford to be so foolish and cling onto a man that would lead not only to her destruction, but to the whole realm falling into ruin!
By the time King Baldwin turned a most exhausting age of merely three and twenty springs, he was beginning to turn blind, as his eyes were incapable of shutting, and his corneas were burning and stinging him so excruciatingly painful, yet there was nothing he could do in that regard. Despite barely being able to walk around anymore, he had to deal with the consequences of that single mistake of allowing Sibylla to marry that incompetent Guy, who not only broke the pact that Jerusalem had with the Muslim by attacking one of their caravan and killing all of the people there, but he also dared massacre Salah al-Din’s own sister. How can his sister not see that this man was only going to bring ruination to their home? How can she continue devoting her life and affections to such a monster of a man, good for nothing and hated by all, whose head is set only on carnage and bloodshed, under the pretext of spreading the Faith and Word of God over the heathens that tried to obliterate them and convert them?
Thus, King Baldwin stood slumped in his throne glued next to the Queen’s; She gently held his hand, their fingers intertwined; He loved the visual of their hands being so intimately together, before all to bare witness at their pure and sincere love that transcended even leprosy and scrutiny, yet at the same time, he hated how he could not feel her hand, and that his own was bandaged over like a mummy.
“Guy de Lusignan and Reynald de Chatillon, with the Templars, have attacked a Saracen caravan.” just as always, the crowd of knights began fighting each other like a bunch of babbling baboons, until some person of authority yelled at them to keep silent.  “It was no caravan. It was an army headed for Bethlehem to desecrate our Lord’s birthplace.” Guy justified his immoral actions under the guise of protecting the Faith. “Reynald, with the Templars, have broken the King’s pledge of peace. Salah al-Din will come into this kingdom -- “ the Count of Tripoli was promptly cut off by the daring fool. Oh, how Baldwin wanted to let go of his reign and live the remaining days of his life in peace, alone with his wife - Yet knowing the Kingdom would fall into this monster’s hands, he could not, in good faith, abandon his people, nor could he see his Holy Land destroyed before his very eyes. “Tiberias knows more than a Christian about Salah al-Din’s intentions.” Guy got up to his feet, walking to the count, towering over him in an attempt to intimidate the old and seasoned Lord. “That I would rather live with men, than kill them... Is certainly why you are alive.” the knight sneered discreetly at him. “That sort of Christianity has its uses, I suppose.” the King and Queen shared a look of annoyance. “We must NOT go to war with Salah al-Din!” Tiberias exclaimed. “We do NOT want it, and we may not win it.” he was the single voice of reason left in that sea of idiots who cried out ‘Blasphemy!’ like a flock of sheep.  “An army of Jesus Christ which bears his Holy Cross cannot be beaten!” some Templar spoke with unbacked confidence. “Does Tiberias suggest it could be?” the scarred man remained silent, looking with disgust at the rest of the knights. “There MUST be war! God wills it!” those idiots were using God’s name as a means to bloodshed. The Queen could stand this complete disarray no longer, and though she missed the moment a servant brought the King a message to read, she shot up to her feet, and shouted at them the people for the first time in her life - Great was everyone’s surprise, especially Baldwin’s, to bare witness of something different than her otherwise honeyed and soft voice that soothed one’s worries. “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.” she recited a line from the Exodus 20:7. “Are you suggesting we are using the name of God with unclean intentions?” Guy looked up with defiance at the woman, whose elegant and royal aura turned cold and stern, like a strict ruler. “I am your Queen, and you will address me as such.” she harshly snapped at him. “You, who are worth less than a worm, and held in no one’s graces, dare create such disorder in the presence of the King of Jerusalem. The disrespect you have shown is punishable by death.” she stepped towards him, head held high, dignified. “To think that all of you will be listening to the poisoned tongue of this viper; That you would summon God’s name, to commit bloodshed - Have you forgotten the Ten Commandments? Thou shalt not kill, it was written on the stone tablet given to Moses - Yet all of you are thirsty for war - Not out of Faith, but out of boredom. You listen to this warmonger who knows naught of diplomacy, of tactics and strategy - Lest of all, of the good of the people of the Holy Lands.” the crowd of knights could feel their blood freezing in their veins from such a scolding. “All of this, in front of the King! Such rudeness should be the cause of you yelling out Blasphemy! Not evident caution and refusal to go to war against an army that is outnumbering our own greatly!” “You talk much, but say very little... My Queen.” Guy taunted the Queen with blatant disrespect. “What would a woman know of war, when all she knows is to was to sored feet of a man that may not seen the world outside of these Holy walls in so long? You call me lesser, yet when the King is no more, neither will your title remain. We are the same - Lucky to have been chosen, yet worthy all the same.” “How wrong you are - For at the end of the day, marriage or not, I will continue being a Princess, yet you will be nothing more than the fourth son, good for nothing, landless and with no title - And most of all, a sinner.” the Queen drew the sword from Tiberias’s scabbard, pointing it at Guy. “Kneel before your Queen.” his eyes widened in shock at such an order. “Are you going to ignore a direct order from your Queen?” Guy’s head snapped towards the King, who waved his hand at the man, as to follow the order. “The Queen’s command is absolute.” Baldwin nodded his head briefly at the buffoon who dared disrespect his wife, not only in front of him, but in front of the whole court. He was glad that someone was putting that idiot to respect, however, he hated that his wife had to step over her kindness and get angry, for his sake. Begrudgingly, Guy knelt down, though he glared at the Queen with those scorned, dark eyes. In a swift move, the woman swung the heavy sword with such ease, ready to behead the man - Only to stop, right as she touched his neck, careful not to injure him. Sibylla was quick to shout at her to have mercy and spare him - That she loves him, and what not. She was ignored. “Do not mistake my past kindness and mercy, for weakness. I may be benevolent, but I do not tolerate disrespect addressed to me, to God, and especially to the King.” she returned the sword to Tiberias, who nodded at her in acknowledgement and approval. “That your head is not rolling to the ground for children to play is my final act of mercy and acceptance towards you. You disrespect the King, your disrespect Jerusalem. Trust me when I say it, Guy - I always mean what I say.” she returned to her seat next to the King, who handed her the message to read. The look on her face said it all - She was both concerned and terrified, not for her life, but for his own. “Salah al-Din has crossed the Jordan with 200,000 men.” the King spoke out once ultimate silence reigned over them all. “He’ll make for Kerak and Reynald de Chatillon. My Lord...” TIberias was the first to speak, walking over to Baldwin in an attempt to help him stand up. The King gestured him to stop, and subtly shook his head, as a way to show he was still capable of at least getting up from the throne. “We must meet him before he reaches Kerak.” the King whispered in his advisor’s ear. “I will lead the army.” “My Lord... If you travel, you’ll die.” the Count of Tripoli voiced the Queen’s concerns. “Send word to Balian to protect the Queen and the villagers.” the King addressed the crowd then. “Assemble the army.” came his resolute order that earned a chant of happy cheers from the knights.
The King did not wait to consult with the Queen - Instead, he went into his room to rest, for on the morrow, he would be marching towards Kerak to create some kind of temporary peace treaty with the Muslim leader. Y/N shared a look with Tiberias. Fear was welling deep into her eyes - She was terrified. The nightmares that kept plaguing her every night were coming to fruition much faster than anticipated. Her husband was going to die. “Tiberias... I know you care for the King as much as I do. Though we both know his mind will not be swayed... Please, do try to keep him away from this journey.” her voice became a weakened whisper. “I cannot bare the thought of losing him so soon.”
Tiberias could feel his heart impaled, yet he was unable to utter a single word. He placed his hand on her shoulder, as if to show they share a similar kind of pain, and he hung his head. Y/N went to their shared room, and seeing her husband sitting on the chair, by the chess board, she fell to the ground, hugging his feet and placing her head on his lap as she wept. “Please change your mind, my love! Do not go to your death, not so soon! You are so young, still so strong -- I cannot... I cannot imagine living without you.” Baldwin sighed, his eyes stinging, yet feeling a little relief from the forming tears that were wetting his dry eyes, and his bandaged hand was placed numbly over her cascading hair, petting it. “Forgive me, my sweet rose.” he spoke with a shaky voice. “I did say I was going to turn you into the youngest widow, yet I did not imagine my condition would hinder me from even reaching thirty years of age.” even his body was softly trembling, in tune with her pitiful sobs. “Forgive me for breaking your loving heart. I was not the husband that you deserved. I was unable to bring you happiness, nor pleasure, nor was I capable of creating a family with you. God had forbidden me from even touching your body, in fear of transferring this curse upon you... He had denied me the feeling of your delicate skin, and a normal life span spent by your side.” “Do not say that!” she exclaimed, raising her head. “You have been more than I ever deserved. You have been more than I could ever dream of, even. I never desired for anything in life, except to see you alive, every time I woke up, and to feel you heart lul me to sleep, as you held me so dearly in your arms. For as long as I could hear your tender voice... Just knowing you were alive... It was all that I ever needed.” she reached her hands up to his face, taking off his mask and revealing the horrific, disfigured visage of the one seraphic boy. “If I could, I would trade all of my tomorrows, just to spend another night with you. I would trade all of my days, so that you could keep on living on, for as long as I would have. I would take the disease upon me, just to rid you of this curse. I would accept even being purged by the divine fires of retribution, if it gave you your health back.” her sight was blurred with the amount of tears hindering her and rivering down her face. “But to hell with God, and with the Faith, and with everything there is! Why must a good man endure misfortune after misfortune, and die young, whilst incompetent, evil bastards like Guy keep on living and thriving so frivolously?! I prayed day in and day out, and I have devoted all of my being to God, but instead of returning your health, he is taking you away from me even faster!” she wailed so pitifully, that Baldwin felt his entire being shattering before her anguish. “What kind of sin have I committed, that I cursed the love of my life as such a tender age, just a little after I have met him?” “You couldn’t possibly think to blame yourself for my disease.” he scolded her in complete disbelief. “Y/N, my love, never think that way.” he placed his hands on her elbows, urging her to raise, only to guide her to sit on his lap. Her slight panic was quickly shushed with a reassurance. “I am ill, not made of glass. If anything, this proximity could only serve to energize me.” Y/N gently held his hands and took off the bandages, revealing the severe ulcerations, the leathery skin and the open sores, red and painful, were it not for the numbness. She kissed his fingers lovingly, before placing his palms over her face. “Were I a mighty Phoenix, I would be able to heal all of your wounds, with the amount of tears I have shed. I would be able to fly into battle by your side and spit fire over our enemies, but also thrill a song of bravery and victory to embolden our army.” she took a ragged breath, stammering over her words. “But I am just a woman, powerless, and foolishly in love with one man, who is dying before her very eyes, and can do nothing but live in fear that he may take his last breath when she is not around him.” “You always did leave me speechless with your love confessions - And that is no easy feat, my sweet white rose. To say that I love you, is an overstatement... Yet God may strike me when I say... I do not love even He, the way that I love you. My only regret is that I was not able to even kiss you, when I was still young and handsome, fitting of a young King. I wish only to make you the happiest... If only life was not so cruel with us.” Y/N leaned down slowly, placing her lips over his own, completely uncaring of her malformed mouth, or the possibility of catching the disease herself. She wasn’t planning on living longer, if he wasn’t going to be alive and hold her hand any longer. “A silly woman, foolishly in love with a silly man, just as foolishly in love with her.” he muttered, gazing at how beautiful she was, even with eyes puffy and sparkling with tears, and skin twinkling wet. 
The King guided his Queen to the bed and cradled her into his arms to cry as much as hear dear heart needed, all whilst playing with her hair, as much as his useless fingers allowed him to, and whispered a string of endless sweet nothings, though he was aware, no word of love was going to sooth or mend her shattered heart, and the fact that his lack of days were the cause of it was a bittersweet knowledge.
On the morrow, the King nodded at Tiberias, placing his hand gently over his horse’s snout to urge it to kneel so that he could mount it and ride towards Kerak, where he would face Salah al-Din and propose a truce. The journey was long and arduous, lasting a whole week on horseback, yet he rose tirelessly, and slept like a baby in the tent, every night. There were no physicians by his side, nor his Queen, to wash and treat his skin damage - But it was fine, he wasn’t going to live long anyway, so it mattered little.
After seven long days, they reached Kerak, the stronghold of Reynald the Idiot, and with the King of Jerusalem in front and the shining-white Holy Cross that brightened up the battleground, the King, dressed the part, rode and faced the leader of the Muslims. 
The two king met, face to face, horse to horse - One, the Splendor of Christianity, dressed in full white, yet with a silver mask and the light-blue tabard of Jerusalem, and his horse was the same, white and pure, as was his virtue and soul. The other was dressed in black, and his horse was black also, to represent his own faith and leadership to his people, but also, his humbleness. The two stared each other in the eyes, siesing each other but, yet it was Salah al-Din who spoke first. “I pray you pull back your cavalry and leave this matter to me.” “I pray you retire unharmed to Damascus.” the King replied, his eyes seemingly unblinking behind his silver mask, adorned with crosses and swirls, to represent his Faith and Love of God. “Reynald de Chatillon will be punished. I swear it.” the man vowed, speaking in a soft, yet firm tone. “Withdraw, or we will all die here.” the two’s silence, as they stared each other up, was this time interrupted by the Christian King. “Do we have terms?” The Muslim leader only had one fear, and that was of the Leper King, who so easily bested him at merely 16 years of age, and heavily outnumbered; Now, older, yet with a frailer constitution, even the ghost of him could send a shiver down his spine; A rival worthy of his respect. “We have terms.” he nodded at him. “I will send you my physicians.” he humbly offered, wishing his rival to remain alive and healthy, for as long as he may. “As-salamu alaykum.” he King of Jerusalem tilted his head down and bowed his hand as a sign of respect, wishing him and his people peace. “Wa alaykumu s-salam.” Salah al-Din rose his hand and replied with the same respect, wishing him the same.
The two leaders of their faith turned their horses around, and Sibylla watched from the safe fortress, as her brother was victorious in avoiding an all-right war, and rode towards the stronghold of Reynald, who quickly ran, disheveled, to greet the King, who gracefully rode before him, and commanded his horse to kneel, so that he may dismount. Reynald offered a courtesy, as the King stumbled in front of him, whipping out a wand from his waist. “On your knees.” he ordered, with such disgust as no one has ever heard him before. Reynald did as instructed without hesitance. “Lower.” he had to be deeply punished for all of his thoughtless actions that served to ruin everything he worked so hard to build for his people. In an exhausted breath, yet still as kingly, he spoke “I am Jerusalem.” with another swift move, he took off the glove of his left arm, and the bandages, revealing a thoroughly maimed hand, along with a golden ring with a large ruby. “And you - Will give me the kiss of peace.” he extended his seeping, untreated, dirty hand towards Reynald, who started slobbering and kissing his fingers without hesitation.
From disgust and anger, the King used the scepter to strike his face - One, twice, and a few more times, until the idiot was on the ground, cradling his injured face.  Though the physical exhaustion took over His Highness, and as he turned around, he stumbled to the ground, and into the sand. It was Tiberias who rushed to support him to stand, along with two guards, that helped him lay on a comfortable couch, as the Count of Tripoli commanded the arrest of the idiot. With a nod at the man, the King was risen with the bed, and carried out, so that he may return to Jerusalem, with the much needed aid, before he may return by himself, on horseback.
Once returned, however, the guards that greeted them started yelling ���Imposter!’ and claiming the King that led them to Kerak, the King that settled peace with Salah al-Din, their most feared enemy, the King that punished Reynald - He was an imposter, and the real King Baldwin IV was in his study;  The Imposter was quickly immobilised, struck down and roughly brought over before the real King, whilst the Imposter was thrown to the ground to kneel, despite Tiberias and the other knights’ protests and attempts to stop such blasphemy.
Before their eyes, however, the knights witnessed two Kings - One a little taller than the other, and dressed in his normal robes, sitting on the throne and reading; The other, on the ground, just smaller, and with the War outfit on. The King of Jerusalem rose on his feet, startled at the sudden disturbance, and the peculiar sight before his eyes; It would have been almost hilarious, were he not enraged at the guards having been so rough with the Imposter, when he did not ordered them so. “You may release that one.” though the guards looked in shock at the orders, they complied. “Of course, there is no one who knows me better, than yourself. I was foolish to believe you would just remain quiet, at home, where I asked you to be. You fool.” his scolding was light-hearted and tender. “Tiberias, tell me, how did the affairs go?” “Your Majesty... Ergh... Salah al-Din agreed to a truce, and Reynald de Chatillon was severely punished... By... You.” the Count of Tripoli found it difficult to voice out the ambiguous message. He was upset that he did not realise the truth sooner; He had let himself be tricked, and so well. “All of you - You may leave.” the King ordered with a dismissive yet respectful wave of his hand. “But -- My King -- The Imposter --” one of the knights stammered over his words. “There is no Imposter, but a loving Queen who was ready to accept anything may come, to save her husband from a life-ending journey.” the King stepped in front of the Imposter, and taking the silver mask off, revealed the beautiful face of the Queen; The revealed earned an ocean of protests and gasps - How was a woman capable of not only fooling everyone, but of mimicking the King so flawlessly. “Perhaps it is not that you know me best, but that you know me better than even I know myself. Truly, I am honoured, and my heart soothed with honeyed mead, to know that you have gone through such trials, for my sake. Foolish indeed, yet with such positive outcome that I am incapable of feeling anything but happiness.” with some difficulty, he knelt besides her, so that he may pick her hands and get her up. “As I told you so many times, my love, you do not bow to me, for it not I alone, but the both of us, that are Jerusalem.” “My sweet King, I bare good news, for once!” Y/N spoke for the first time since she’s arrived; Though her voice was weak from dehydration, not only was she happy that her quest was a success, and that her darling Baldwin was not upset with her tricking him, but she was also smiling so brightly, so much so that it surprised the young man, as he hasn’t seen her so genuinely blissful since they were children. “Salah al-Din sent over his physicians, and they offered a gift - It is called Chaulmoogra oil, and they said people in India and China use it to treat leprosy - The statistics show great improvement, unlike any other treatment before. That man truly respects and cherishes you as a rival, and a leader, my love.” Baldwin froze on the spot, seeing the woman reveal a rather large carafe that she kept hidden underneath the robes, hanging from the sash. Were it not too hasty to have hope again? A miracle treatment, so suddenly, for him? And even if he does get treated, his face will never recover, and he doubts his limbs are going to feel again. Still, he was unable to refuse her, seeing as it was the only thing that put such a genuine smile on her face, after so long. “Alright, my sweet flower - For you, I shall try any treatment, no matter how revolutionary or eccentric.”
He could barely keep himself standing up, as Y/N, in a fit of euphoria, threw her arms around his neck and swayed him. The treatment made him nauseated more often than not, and he vomited at some points, yet after good weeks of continuous intake of this oil, added with the herbal cleaning and ointments for his skin, and regular walking, his body was beginning to feel a little stronger than previously - It almost felt that he was getting younger. It was a scary feeling, for it was so good and hopeful, that he feared losing it, and in turn, Y/N’s happiness.
As Baldwin began regaining his strength, and to some degree, even the feeling in his arms and legs, and he was properly capable of holding a sword again, he was emboldened to think of a future of his own. First, he asked Sibylla whether he agrees to divorce Guy, especially now that she knows how awful of a man he was - But once again, he was denied - Thus, he was forced to exile this idiot, and with him, his sister also followed. With the timely death of his nephew, Baldwin V, at the mere age of 10, the King realised he had no direct Heir to ascend the throne once he dies, whenever that may be, and as he was incapable of creating an heir himself, and with Sibylla refusing to step up as a Queen, if Guy does not ascend with her; Once again, it fell on poor Tiberias to help out with this matter. He trusted Balian to become a good King, but of course, he wanted to live a peaceful life, as a blacksmith, not restrained by the burdens of a King.
Next, he had to get rid of both Guy and Reynald, permanently, so that there would be no risk of enticing the Muslim Leader to wage war on Jerusalem; Especially as he has him to thank for his unexpected recovery, and for as long as he may live, he will remain eternally grateful for his kindness.
Baldwin fortified the walls of Jerusalem and strengthened the bonds with the armies under him, and kept the Kingdom of Heaven safe. It was a true wonder, being able to stand on the balcony, with his wife’s arms around his body, and watch the starry night illuminating the city to beautifully, and the song of the crickets and toads resounding soothingly through the place. 
Though he was still uncomfortable with letting go of the mask, knowing well enough that people will keep being horrified of his disfigured face, he felt at ease, dancing with his lovely white rose around their room, hearing her sweet giggles, and seeing that beautiful, dazzling smile of hers that captured his heart, from the very first time that he laid his eyes on her.
Baldwin was a fool, so deeply in love with Y/N, that he prayed to God every day not to make him up from this reverie, for he is eternally grateful for keeping his Faith in times of need, and that He replied to him with the greatest gift there was - Not just the treatment, but his Queen’s happiness restored. The glee of a fool in love.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------                                           ANGST ENDING -------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tumblr media
Though the quest that Y/N embarked on was a success, once she returned to Jerusalem, she was met with the reality of her husband’s health, which was degrading at such a swift pace, even without the journey made. It was ridiculous, thinking that she went through all of that, yet it aided Baldwin with nothing, save for two weeks of worry over her well-being. What a disaster, she thought to herself, as she returned to her room, her head hung, and discarding the Kingly outfit with annoyance and disgust, as though she was a little brat throwing a temper tantrum.
“I do not have the power to say how worried I was over you, for I cannot help but be so proud of my Queen, and infinitely happy beyond the horizon, to feel your heart soulbound to mine own. I missed you more than the deserts miss the rain.” though he tried to reassure Y/N, he knew he wouldn’t be seeing the change of the seasons.
And his prediction was correct; Soon, he was unable to move whatsoever, and his white outfit was changed with a royal black and golden one; Even his silver mask was replaced with a golden one, and he could only lay on the bed, his eyes mostly closed, and awaiting the sweet release of death.
Unexpectedly, Y/N was came over, smiling, but also crying, holding a goblet filled with honeyed red wine; She sat comfortably over his waist, looking down at him - She looked like a child, with her eyes glazed, and expression slightly dazed - And she took another gulp of the wine. “Oh. Hello, my sweet white rose.” it was difficult for him to speak, and though he wanted to address her unexpected drunkness, he couldn’t. He knew his time was ending, and perhaps selfish, he wished to see her smile as the last thing he’d witness in this world. “What were you dreaming of, my love?” she slurred cutely, dropping the now empty goblet to the ground, her hands placed on his chest, and slowly roaming up to his chest. “How great it would have been, if we were not separated by a curse.” she hummed, allowing herself to fall over on the bed next to him, smiling widely. “We are in the earthly Kingdom of Heaven. Once we reach the Celestial Heavens, there will be no afflictions or diseases hindering our love any longer, and for the rest of eternity, in the afterlife, our love shall continue onwards, transcending this unseen barrier between us.” she nuzzled into his side; Baldwin wasn’t sure whether she was giggling, or sobbing - Yet he was pretty sure she was doing both. “We will be ruling over nothing except our love, and we will have no responsibility, except to ourselves. We will finally be free to live, and to love... And to be happy.” “My love... What was in that wine?” with a lethargic move, Y/N pulled him into her body, his head resting onto her chest.  “What were you dreaming of, my love?” she asked again - The excruciating revelation dawned on him - Y/N had poisoned herself. She could not bare seeing him die before her eyes, she couldn’t bare him dying before her, and her having to endure all the agony of a lonely life, with a shattered heart, never to be mended again. She cared little whether people would find out she killed herself, and she would get beheaded. Her only wish, written, was to be buried with him - Wish that she also voiced to him. “I was back in that summer, when I defeated Salah al-Din.” if he could cry, he would, not only for himself, but for Y/N feeling so heartbroken that she felt compelled to end it all. “Do you remember it? We were only 16.” “Of course I remember. I was so worried for you, out there, without anyone to care for you. I was praying to God every hour I was awake, to keep you safe, and have you return to me. I remember I jumped on you from happiness, as soon as you dismounted your horse. I toppled you to the ground. The Archbishop yelled at me for not behaving like a Queen, but Tiberias pushed him away, so he wouldn’t bother us.” he could only offer a weak, breathy chuckle as a reply. “You are as beautiful as the white rose that I put in your hair, that day, when we met. I am truly honoured that I had the fortune of being your husband. No man ever felt love, as much as I did, thanks to you.” he stole one last good look at her, before settling comfortably in her embrace. “My sweet white rose.” he called out. “Will you sing for me?” “Yes, my love. Allow me to sing you to sleep.”
I seek a man named Baldwin Whom I bid await me here I pledged that I would see him Before he leaves this sphere
This man of whom I speak He gave his heart to me But thence my soul grew weak And at last it too broke free
So borne upon an urgent breeze I travelled to his place Where only one thing could appease The torment I now face
Oh tell me I am not too late To see my love once more For that would be too cruel a fate I beg him be restored
That we may take a little time To bid our last farewell And remember all we shared erstwhile Such joy no one could quell
For never was a greater love Than that within our hearts Once born, forever binding us Through not e’en death we part
Who was the first to ascend to heavens, not even God knew, for they both appeared before him, holding each other so tenderly, looking like the most beautiful youth, foolishly in love with each other.
As in Eden, so on Earth, the two were found cradling each other, though the heart beat that once lulled the other to sleep, was no longer present; Yet a smile adorned both of their faces.  Just as left on the note, Y/N was buried together with King Baldwin IV - The King and Queen who loved each other more than any before, and certainly, any in the future also - The two lovers who could never be torn apart, in life, death, or anything in between.
Up there, however, they were no a pair of King and Queen, but just a man and a woman, fated to eternally love each other. They were just themselves - Y/N and Baldwin - Two fools, so foolishly in love with each other.
1K notes · View notes
chelseeebe · 8 months
Text
promise.
eddie knows about covering bruises and pretending to be fine all too well. but can he save the one woman he thinks he’s ever loved?
a/n: ok i’ve been a bit shit the last few weeks and this is genuinely the only thing i could conjure up but forewarning, it is sad and it does mention some pretty heavy topics that i know aren’t for everyone so i completely understand if u don’t want to read! my adhd riddled brain has already started a part two which does have a happy ending
title based on promise - ben howard i just thought it was a really lovely song and fits well with part two
read part two here.
18+. mdni! mentions of domestic violence, not explicitly described but the injuries are there and it is referred to multiple times throughout (eddie is not the perpetrator). smut. v much hurt/no comfort but not for long.
⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙
eddie is positively wrecked.
who would have ever guessed working in a shoddy, run-down bar would be so fucking tiring?
graham had said that if he picked up a few shifts at the hideout a week, then corroded coffin could play once a month. a guaranteed slot and he got paid? this was like heaven to him.
he just hadn’t expected the little bar to be so exhausting. he supposes that his lack of work experience and the fact he was used to doing sweet fuck all most of the time was to blame. that’s not his fault. not really. after finally graduating high school a year or so ago, he just hadn’t found any work in the tiny town.
on one particularly boring mid-week shift, eddie’s sat behind the bar doodling on the back of an old receipt, tapping his foot along to the kiss tune playing on the stereo. wouldn’t be his first choice but he’s not complaining.
‘you coming for a smoke?’ you exclaim suddenly, causing his head to jolt up, running the biro over his shitty drawing, ruining it completely.
‘uh.. then who would be on the bar?’ he utters, quickly hiding the doodle before you could judge it. not that he thinks you would, but just in case.
‘eddie, it’s dead,’ you say flatly, looking around at the empty tables.
truth be told, he hadn’t seen another soul bar from you and graham since he’d arrived which was odd for a thursday. assuming that the usual bums that lined the dusty old stools were otherwise engaged today. that or they just hadn’t been paid yet.
‘oh.. yeah, okay,’ he nods, hopping down from the stool and grabbing his jacket. you’re already gone, bounding off down the hall to the fire exit you all used for smoke breaks.
eddie’s still fairly new and very rarely got invited on the group breaks. which was fine, he just wished that you’d all take it in turns so that he could smoke too. he gets it though, like he talks enough but yet not enough to really make friends with any of you.
you’re leaning back against the brick wall, cigarette hanging from your lips, ‘you got a lighter?’
it’s not like he’d been staring or thought about it that much, but he’d noticed how breathtakingly beautiful you were on his second shift. okay, maybe that’s a lie. he’d thought about it a lot. but anyway, he’d been utterly in awe at the way you handled the drunks, brushed off their creepy comments and stood your ground no matter how angry or persistent they were being. he admired that and just wished that he had even a smidgen of the confidence you had.
he fumbles in his pocket for the lighter, clumsily handing it over before getting his own pack out. it feels wrong to look you in the eye, god that sounded pathetic. you were older, far cooler than he was and positively stunning. if he remembers correctly, you must’ve been a couple grades above him at school but had left long before he graduated.
‘thanks,’ passing the lighter back to him, fingers ever so slightly brushing against his. it’s like electricity sparks through his veins.
he really needs to get a grip.
‘you enjoyin’ it here?’ you ask, eyes intimidating as they bore into his.
‘it’s okay.. tiring though,’ he shrugs, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact despite his inability to look pretty girls in the eye.
‘yeah.. you’ll get used to it,’ you chuckle, the smoke flowing out of your lips perfectly. he’s so pathetically down bad for you and you have literally no idea.
‘how long have you worked here?’ longing to keep the conversation flowing.
‘shit.. too long,’ chuckling as you take another drag. eddie could listen to that sound all day. ‘i think i was eighteen when i started so..’ pretending to count on your fingers, ‘six years?’
eddie blows the air out of cheeks, he’s probably be in a similar position if he’d have just graduated when he was supposed to so he can’t exactly pass judgement.
‘i think we went to school together, i mean, you were a couple grades above me but i remember you,’ hoping that that didn’t sound as creepy out loud like it did in his head.
‘oh shit, really?’ your eyes narrow, trying to place him though it’s obviously not going to happen, ‘i don’t remember you.. i’m so sorry,’ playfully hitting his arm.
the connection is enough to keep his delusions going for at least another month.
‘it’s fine, didn’t think you would,’ not many people did to be honest. he tosses his cigarette into the overflowing makeshift ashtray, waiting for you to lead the way back inside.
‘hey, it was a long time ago, i’m old now!’ you joke, walking back through the dim hall back to the bar. he tries his hardest not to let his gaze slip to you ass but he swears it’s only for a second.
the bar’s still dead, the stereo now blaring out some madonna tune he hated.
‘ugh.. turn this one off,’ he mutters, mostly to himself as he repositions himself back on his perch.
‘what?’
‘i hate this song.’
your jaw drops in faux-offence, ‘i made this mixtape you asshole,’ going to shove him off of the stool, ‘i can’t believe you can’t drop the cool guy act for one second to appreciate some madonna,’ laughing as you start collecting glasses.
his frown turns into an immediate grin, begging for your forgiveness as he starts to bop his head along to the beat. it’s not like anyone would see him and hell, even if they did, he didn’t care. not if it made you smile.
-
‘holy fuck, you been fightin’ with the door again?’ james remarks, pulling eddie’s eyes from his paper to spot you rushing into the bar.
your head is ducked, flashing the older man your middle finger, disappearing into the back before eddie can properly get a glimpse of your face.
but he knows.
there’d been a handful of times that you’d come in wearing a massive sweater instead of your usual low-cut tops and when you reached for something high up, the sleeve would reveal just enough for him to see the dark blue marks on your wrist.
he’d never been sure, not until now. but his stomach drops the second his brain puts two and two together.
ditching the paper and that asshole james behind the bar to slink off into the back, approaching the tiny staff room with the upmost caution. it’d never be wise to start throwing accusations around but he’s not stupid. eddie had watching his mom go through the exact same shit for years. knew all the tricks in the book to cover up bruises, cried his heart out every time his mom went back to his asshole dad.
only god knows how many times he’d planned out his fathers death. anger brimming in his tiny body the second he heard raised voices.
he knocks gently on the door, watching as you hurriedly wipe the makeup onto your eye. it’s not doing much, in fact, it’s not doing anything at all. the purple shining through undeniably.
‘you okay?’ practically whispering as he enters the room, knocking the door shut behind him. james’ comment had meant that this obviously wasn’t the first time you’d come into work with such horrid markings.
you sigh, giving up on attempting to cover it, slamming the metallic compact back into your locker. ‘i’m okay.. i’m fine,’ refusing to turn and face him.
you’re obviously not okay and it hurts eddie to know that there’s absolutely nothing he can do to help. instead, he takes a seat on the communal bench, if nothing else, he’d lend his ear for whatever story you wanted to tell him.
‘what happened?’ he dares to ask, not expecting to know the truth but it felt better than silence.
you sniff, closing your locker and finally facing him head on. there’s pain and guilt wracked all over your face, ‘i’m just.. clumsy,’ shoulders slumping, ‘i tripped..’
‘clumsy?’
you were anything but. eddie had watched you balance trays full of glasses without spilling a single drop. maybe other people bought your story but he didn’t. he couldn’t.
there’s a short silence and eddie shuffles, patting the empty space beside him, ‘you don’t have to lie to me.’ he swallows his anger, lets it rest in his stomach for a later date. there’s no doubt that if he got the opportunity, he’d kill the asshole that did this to you.
you swallow, reluctantly perching on the bench, ‘why are you even asking when you already know?’ not quite meeting his eyes, staring off somewhere into the distance.
‘i don’t know.. didn’t wanna pressure you..’ he’s familiar with the whole routine. the denial from his mother had broken his heart at such a young age even though he wasn’t stupid.
you blink, meeting his eyes for the first time, ‘he didn’t mean to.. was my fault,’ wiping the back of your hand against your sodden cheeks.
even hearing the words makes him inexplicably frustrated. not with you of course, but with the fact that you can’t see how much you don’t deserve that.
‘i don’t think you could do anything to deserve that,’ motioning towards your blackened eye. he’s not going to push it but he needs you to know that he’s here and would quite happily wrap his hands around that bastards neck.
‘you know.. my dad used to hit my mom,’ swallowing the large lump that had gathered in his throat, but finds enough strength to continue, ‘she was the nicest lady in the world.. she didn’t deserve that and neither do you,’ licking his suddenly parched lips. it wasn’t an easy topic then and it certainly isn’t now.
he’s not particularly ever open about what happened to his mom but if it convinced you even a tiny bit to leave him, it’d be worth it.
there’s a beat, followed by a muffled sniff but you’re nodding, staring down at the grimy tiles rather than his face. eddie reckons that he’d be overstepping his mark if he did what he wanted and leant over to hug you. so he doesn’t. putting a sympathetic hand on your shoulder instead.
‘you’re an angel, you know that?’ the hints of a smile creeping onto your lips.
‘yeah i know,’ he scoffs, bashing his shoulder into yours, only gently.
‘shut up,’ knocking him straight back.
you get up from the bench, puffing your cheeks out as you take one last look into the mirror.
it’s a gut-wrenching, awful sight and god forbid eddie has to ever see you like that again.
-
perhaps rather naively, eddie assumes everything is fine for the next few weeks.
understandably, you’re a bit subdued for a few days but you do revert back to your usual bubbly self come friday evening. no more bruises, no more groaning when you change the keg and absolutely zero mention of your wretched boyfriend.
so when he pulls into his gravel driveway one gloomy saturday night, he’s aghast to see you perched on his trailer steps. blinking through his headlights, soaked through from the rain with a busted lip and a torn shirt to match.
he near enough launches himself from his van, rushing over to your hunched over frame. damn near falling over his feet to get to you.
‘what the hell happened?’
you stand, clinging onto your poorly packed rucksack, ‘i.. i didn’t know where else to go,’ utterly defeated, any traces of life drained from your face.
he doesn’t say another word, bundling you into the trailer, slamming the lights on to get a proper look of you. his hands firmly on your drenched shoulders as he examines your injuries. your lip is cracked, the blood had wept from the cut and dried on your chin.
it’s awful. knocks him sick just to see you like this. your cheeks are stained with a mixture of rain and he presumes tears, hair hanging limp around your beautiful face.
‘what happened?’ he says softly, studying your face. he notices the small gash on your forehead, using everything within himself not to storm out of that door in a murderous rage.
your mouth opens but no words come out. it’s not as if he can’t put two and two together, he just doesn’t understand how it got to this point after last week.
‘it’s okay.. c’mon let’s get you out of these clothes,’ he blinks, collecting himself before taking your sopping wet bag. the clothes had all suffered in the downpour, damp and unwearable.
so he leads you into his cramped room, hastily rummaging through his drawers for something you can wear.
it’s a little self-indulgent and completely the wrong time but his heart flutters when you reappear out of the bathroom sporting his tee and a pair of old gym shorts. now showered and without the blood stains on your face, it’s a welcome sight.
‘better?’ he offers, though he knows a shower could never really help.
you nod, pulling the sleeves down over your hands. it’s so adorable and eddie seriously has to fight his compulsion to just pull you into his arms. he knows there’s no way he can protect you from everything but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.
‘you want a drink? beer?’
your eyes light up, a minuscule smirk appearing on your battered lips. he’s sure wayne would understand why he came home to a non-existent six pack. the berating would be worth it to see you smile again.
he collapses onto the couch next to you, beer in hand as he watches you slowly relax. delighted that he could offer a safe space for you, even if it did come with some very complicated feelings.
that night, admittedly very creepily, he watches as you sleep. terrified to fall asleep in his makeshift bed on the floor in case you needed him.
-
at some point in the last two weeks, eddie had gone from sleeping on the floor to sleeping in his bed next to you. you’d told him it was far too cold for him on the floor and he should just get in. which he did, with great pleasure. there was nothing to it of course, but a few times he’d woken up to your leg entangled with his or your face pressed against his back.
everything had just got a whole lot more comfortable. rides to work, cooking for one another and some shared looks that he’d been unable to put his finger on. not wanting to believe they had any deeper meaning but at the same time, he knew that that wasn’t how friends looked at each other.
it’s a rare night you both have off, sat in the trailer watching halloween, neither of you really interested in what’s going on on the screen. there’s an inexplicable tension in the air tonight, you’re quieter than usual which eddie doesn’t like.
‘you okay?’ he dares to ask. he’d felt a little overbearing those first few days, constantly checking on you to make sure you were okay.
‘hmm? oh, i’m okay,’ setting your bottle of beer on the table, ending up much closer to him when you sit back.
‘you sure? you’re quiet,’ keen not to let on that he was absolutely buzzing about your close proximity.
‘just thinking.’
‘about?’
you let out a soft breath, twisting around to look at him fully. the only times he’d been this close to you were in bed where he laid and listened to your soft snores and when you’d been covered in injuries. neither one were exceptionally great circumstances.
‘you,’ you blink up at him, smiling just enough to make his heart skip a beat.
‘me?’ he can’t decipher whether that’s a good thing or not.
‘mhm.’
‘what about me?’
you don’t respond for what feels like an eternity but your gaze lowers, glancing at his lips and back to his eyes. if he weren’t staring directly into your bright eyes, he’d have missed it.
‘i really want to kiss you,’ you say, so brazenly that eddie’s not quite sure if he’s heard you correctly, almost sputtering on his breath as the words process.
‘you.. you wanna kiss me?’ trying hard not to sound so astounded. pretty girls didn’t want to kiss eddie, not like this.
you nod, ‘can i?’
there are stars in his eyes, blood pumping around his limbs at an alarming rate. his head is fuzzy and if he weren’t sitting, he’d probably have fainted.
‘please,’ he chokes, desperately forcing the word out before it becomes impossible.
your palms are soft as they caress his cheek, wishing that he’d shaved before this had unfolded. his heartbeat stutters, bubbling with anticipation as you lean in, gentle lips locking onto his as his eyes flutter shut.
this is it. he’d dreamt of kissing you for weeks, practiced on his hand an embarrassing amount of times and yet still nothing could’ve prepared him for how earth shattering this felt. his heart is practically jumping out of his chest and he’s sure you can feel it thumping against yours.
it’s as if fate had bought the two of you together, moving against each other in perfect harmony. if he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.
your hand creeps down onto his chest, holding yourself upright as you shift onto your knees. do you want to have sex with him? is this actually happening? his fingertips vibrate as they connect with your waist, like you weren’t even real and just a figment of his overactive imagination.
the second your lips part from his, he wants to cry, pull you back in and never let go. the absence of contact makes him whine, opening his eyes to see yours gazing back, they look different. different to how you’ve ever looked at him before, full of something unspeakable.
‘do you want to?’ you ask quietly into the minimal space between you.
eddie wants to so bad, more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. nodding hurriedly to let you know just how eager he is. there’s not a chance in hell he’d let this opportunity slip through his fingers.
your lips twitch into a smile at his permission, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt.
but before you get any further, the trailer door clicks open and wayne is stood in the doorway, pizza box in hand accompanying his unimpressed scowl. ‘okay well, i think that’s enough of that,’ he grumbles, shuffling into the trailer as you climb off eddie’s lap, back into your own spot.
‘sorry wayne.. i didn’t know you were back so early,’ his cheeks burning, bashful as ever. it wasn’t enough for wayne to walk in on that but he was always now straining against his jeans, trying desperately to hide the tent while you reshuffle, pulling your shorts back down to a more appropriate length.
‘yeah yeah whatever,’ his uncle shakes his head, trundling over to the couch and tossing the box onto the cluttered coffee table, ‘move over boy, i wanna watch my programme,’ collapsing into the empty seat beside his nephew with a deep, guttural sigh.
the two of you share a sly smirk, tuning in to whatever shit wayne had put on without saying another word. stifling your laughter with a piece of pizza as eddie tries and fails to discretely pull a pillow onto his lap.
it’s hours later when you both crawl into bed and eddie has checked five times that wayne’s actually asleep before he gets to kiss you again.
bundled up under the covers when you pull him on top of you, your face gloriously basked in the bright moonlight shining in. it’s breathtaking.
‘you want to?’ you ask again, as if his answer had changed in those few hours.
he nods, his curls brushing fall down and brush against your cheek, ‘have you.. before?’ you ask cautiously. he’s not offended, even if he should be.
he has had sex before. only twice. when ellen had first joined hellfire, they had sorta had a year long fling which had ended after they had sex and ellen realised that maybe she didn’t actually like men. that was a super boost to his confidence. and then at senior prom when tina took great pity on him and somehow they ended up having sex in the back of his van.
he nods anyway, granted he’s not the most experienced but he’ll sure as hell try.
‘good,’ you smile, warm thighs wrapping around his torso as you reconnect your lips. it’s soft, gentle even. world’s apart from his previous encounters. this felt real, like you weren’t just kissing because you had to but because you wanted to.
it’s too cold in the trailer to care about removing your clothes, though he’s sure that’ll change in a minute. focussing on getting his tongue inside of your mouth, rutting against your pajama shorts. the friction causing his already semi-hard dick to rise, unable to contain the moan from escaping.
a smirk flashes across his face as his hand drags your shorts down your legs, savouring every moment of being able to touch your bare, supple skin. his hand makes its way back up your legs, repositioning the one he could grasp back around his lower back.
he has trouble getting his boxers down, too excited to focus on being smooth about it. appreciating the feel of your hand tugging the fabric down. you’re barely kissing at this point, your lips connecting with the corner of his mouth, all messy as the anticipation takes over.
‘you sure?’ he asks, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. he could just about remember what to do. sending a quick prayer upstairs to not let him be utterly useless.
‘i’m sure,’ you breathe, the feel of your fingers tangled into the hair that covered the back of his neck.
‘okay..’ he nods, mostly to himself as he wraps a head around his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. taking a brief moment to just capture this moment in preparation of it never happening again.
the pleasure overcomes his body as he slides in, already almost losing himself as he fills you up. a soft moan escapes your lips, gripping onto his neck. he is acutely aware that his uncle is asleep on the other side of the old trailer so he muffles his face into your neck, lips connecting with your jaw bone, kissing any and every bit of skin exposed to him.
sex had never felt like this before. at best, it had felt slightly better than when he jerked off, but this was something else. eddie knows it’s cliche and is definitely only because you feel so fucking good around him, but it’s as if you were made for each other.
hands pressed into the pillow so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if there were a permanent dent either side of your head. using everything within himself not to start hollering, eyes fluttering shut against your neck. he moves in and out at an agonisingly slow pace. the small room filling with the sounds of your soaking wet cunt. its undeniable to anyone with ears and he just hopes to god that wayne is still asleep.
his own low groans vibrating against your cheek, mouth hanging open as his thrusts grow faster. you’re panting softly directly into his ear, spurring him on. despite the feel of your perfect cunt around him, the best feeling is knowing that he’s making you feel good.
‘h-holy shit,’ he mumbles nonsensically into the crook of your neck, not allowing himself to come for air because he know that the second he looks at your face, he’ll cum.
your one hand is splayed out on his upper back, the other holding onto his sweaty neck beneath his mop of hair. whining his name into his ear, driving him into a frenzy with the sound of your breathy voice, desire rippling through your moans. he should tell you to be quiet but that’d be cruel and he’d rather take the shame of wayne knowing than not hearing you.
your legs shift higher the position allowing him to reach the golden spot, nudging the soft, spongy spot over and over. eddie figures you’re far more experienced than he is. with no offence meant to you but you obviously know what works. this is new territory for him, a closeness that he’d never known possible.
you’re engulfing him completely, every single one of his senses encompassed by you. you’re all he can see even with his eyes screwed shut, all he can hear, taste and smell. god knows you’re all he can feel, calves squeezing around his back and your perfect pussy tightening around him.
he groans, feeling his stomach begin to twist in that all too familiar feeling. orgasms had never felt so good, it’s like everything was dialled up to level ten. ‘i’m gonna.. shit- i’m gonna come,’ he babbles far too loudly.
every noise tumbling out of your mouth was pulling him closer, no record could ever come close to the sweet mewls that were slipping between your lips. his arms begin to tremble under his own weight. feeling your legs quivering around his waist as your orgasm begins to overtake your body, sinful noises echoing around the otherwise quiet trailer.
‘ohh fuck,’ he growls, feeling your walls clenching around him, it was like he’d been pushed over the edge. the only way he can begin to describe it was otherworldly, flashes of white light illuminate his eyelids.
images of your face accompany your honeyed whimpers and he has to pull out before he explodes. spurts of his release cover his hand and admittedly the back of your thigh. if he had any semblance of control, he’d have been embarrassed but he’s not exactly sure that he’s still on planet earth.
he dares to open his eyes, watching as your chest heaves below him clinging onto his forearm with desperate fingertips. you’re looking up at him as if he’s the only person you’d ever seen. mouth slack as you regain your breath.
‘jesus christ,’ he whispers, hand resting on your angled knee as he floats back down to your planet.
eddie clambers off of the bed with a grunt, wiping a hand over his sweaty face. reaching down to grab his previously discarded towel. it wasn’t the epitome of romance but he darent to leave his room, petrified that wayne had just heard that entire encounter.
he’s a gentleman, of course, running the towel over your thigh to clean his mess. offering you a tiny shrug as if to say sorry. rather suddenly he feels rather conscious of himself, refusing to look at you as his cheeks flame.
it’s ridiculous. he’d just been buried between your legs and yet now couldn’t even look you in the fucking eyes.
before he gets up again, your hand reaches out, curling around his t-shirt. ‘stop,’ using his shirt as leverage for you to sit up.
in one quick movement, you’re placing a tiny onto his lips. a reassurance he really shouldn’t have needed but he appreciates nonetheless.
‘don’t do that,’ you hush, millimetres from his face, the shadow of his broken blinds shine upon your cheek. it hurts him to know that someone would dare look at you and want to hurt you.
if it were possible, he’d take all of your pain and carry it with him instead.
‘okay..’ he nods, resisting the urge to apologise once again.
you giggle and it sounds like the heavens have opened, pulling his body on top of yours as his bed makes an almighty squeak. if wayne wasn’t already awake, he certainly would be now.
-
eddie doesn’t know where the fuck you are.
you hadn’t come back to the trailer after work last night and now you’re nowhere to be found. you were supposed to start half an hour ago but hadn’t turned up and now his heart is pounding, mind racing at the horrific possibilities of what could’ve happened.
at first, he’d thought maybe he said something wrong? he’d just thrown out the suggestion of going to get the rest of your things and moving them in here while you got back on your feet. he hadn’t meant to push you out, god no, that was the last thing he wanted.
maybe stupidly he had presumed you wanted your own space. whatever the hell was going on between you two was so fresh, he didn’t want to even chance fucking it up.
the guilt wracks his brain, tempted to drop everything to drive around this tiny town looking for you. he’s so stupid. should’ve just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed it while you were there.
he’s just about to tell james that he’s leaving when the door to the bar opens and a rough looking man comes through with you held tightly underneath his arm. your eyes avoiding his direction, staring at the floor as the mystery man ushers you towards the back, making himself comfortable at the bar.
eddie’s heart shatters into a million pieces, watching open mouthed as you disappear into the back.
judging by the look on james’ face, he recognises him, reluctantly pouring his beer as they engage in useless small talk.
‘thought i’d better sit in for her shift.. wouldn’t want her running off again,’ the man announces, beady eyes glaring right into his soul.
eddie knows who he is. he’d never seen him before but he could tell. they all had that sinister aura about them, like they could flip at any given moment. his dad was the same, walking on egg shells around him just in case he said the wrong thing or looked at him the wrong way.
you emerge from the staff room, still vehemently avoiding eye contact, a shell of the you he saw just yesterday. ‘hey.. you okay?’ eddie asks, but it falls flat as you walk off without so much as a look back towards him.
he can’t believe it, how you could be so different so quickly. as if the past few weeks you’d spent together had meant nothing. he can’t blame you. not really. it’s a cycle and he knows better than anyone that it takes a thousand attempts to actually break out of it.
his shoulders slump as he rushes out the back, refusing to look at that assholes face any longer. willing himself to get a grip and not jump over that bar to strangle the piece of shit right now.
a hand clamps down on his shoulder and for a brief moment he thinks he might be you until james clears his throat, shuffling on his feet behind him, ‘you can’t save her man,’ squeezing his shoulder firmly, ‘you think we haven’t tried?’
eddie sniffs, shrugging him off. he didn’t appreciate the patronising tone in which james was speaking to him.
because god knows, if he couldn’t save his mom, there’s no fucking chance he’s not saving you.
556 notes · View notes
naturesapphic · 27 days
Note
May I request a reder billie fic.
Billies family doesn't trust R. But one day they secretly see billie taking care of reader who is really tired and sad (homophobic parents)
So they take her in ?
Tumblr media
Trust
Billie eilish x fem!reader
Warnings: hurt/comfort, billies family being unsure of reader, homophobic parents, Billie being the sweetest girl in the world
You were impatiently waiting for your girlfriend to pick up the phone as you were sitting on the curb in front of your old house. You were trying to contain your sobs when your girlfriend’s beautiful voice came through the phone. “Hey baby you okay?” She asked.
“My parents k-kicked me o-out!” You sobbed out and Billie sighed sadly. “Don’t worry I’ll be there in five babygirl.” She said and hung up the phone. You tried to contain your tears but they kept flowing like a river. Five minutes later Billie came rolling up in her car and she immediately ran out over to you. “Babygirl what happened?” She asked as she pulled you in her arms.
“M-my parents k-kicked me o-out! T-they know about u-us because I told t-them and they said that t-they d-don’t wanna s-see me e-ever again…” you sobbed out and Billie felt her heart break into pieces at your words. “Baby…im so sorry…come on. We are going to my house.” She stated as she helps you stand up but you gave her a unsure look. “But Billie…your family doesn’t like me…” you said sadly.
“They do…they just…they are scared that you are just using me or will hurt me. Which I know none of those things are true. They will come around I promise.” Your girlfriend reassured you and you nodded your head slowly. Billie opened the passenger door for you and helped you inside before closing it and going in the drivers side. She started her car and drove the both of you to her house. She parked in front of her house and looked over at you, feeling your nerves radiating out of your body.
Your girlfriend put her ring covered hand on your warm thigh and gently squeezed it. “Don’t worry babygirl. I’ll be right here.” She said and leaned over to place a soft kiss on your lips as you smiled against her and pulled away. “Let’s go babygirl. You must be exhausted.” She said as she got out of the car and went to your side and helped you out. She placed her arms around your waist as y’all walked up to the door as Billie unlocked it. Y’all went inside and walked by the kitchen.
Her family gave you small unsure smiles as y’all walked by and went into the living room. She told you to sit and rest while she goes and grabs your things from her car. Of course you weren’t sure of it and asked her if she needed help but she denied and told you to rest. You laid down on the comfy couch while your girlfriend grabs your things and puts it in her room. After a few moments, she was done and went to tell her family what happened. They were very unsure about it and said that they would think about it.
So Billie went back to the living room to see you laid out on the couch but you weren’t sleeping, just simply laying there awake with a sad look all across your face. “Hey pretty girl. You okay?” She softly said as she kneeled down near your face and tucked some hair behind your ear. Your lips trembled as you shook your head no. You started to cry and Billie got up to sit beside you and pulled you into her arms as she shushed you quietly. “Hey hey…everything is gonna be alright princess. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere I promise.” She reassured you once more.
“Come on princess. Go to sleep. Here you can even climb in my lap and sleep in my arms. I know that’s where you feel most comfortable.” She said and you immediately got into her lap and hid your face in her chest as she holds you close to her. She ran your fingers through your hair as she softly hums her song “I love you.” To you to help you fall asleep. Which worked because before the song was over Billie could hear soft little snores coming out of your mouth. She smiled to herself and saw her family watch from afar and give her two thumbs up which signaled that you could officially stay with them however long you need you. Billie couldn’t wait to tell you when you wake up.
A/n: hey anon I hope you enjoyed this and I hope the rest of y’all enjoy it too! I have many more Billie stories coming out soon and mommy!billie too :) remember to stay hydrated and to rest. I love y’all :)
257 notes · View notes
azzo0 · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
Someone She Used to Know
Summary: Katsuki meets his ex girlfriend after six years.
Warnings: Katsuki's drunk, throwing up, angsty.
Song: Ghost Town- by Benson Boone
wc: 1k
Tumblr media
It's been six years since she broke up with Katsuki. He doesn't hate her for it. She did herself justice by breaking up with him. He wasn't there for her. Every day was a day of broken promises where he vowed to come home early, spend time with her, take her on a date, and cuddle on the couch, but he rarely fulfilled his broken promises, getting caught up in hero work instead. He doesn't hate her. He never can. It was his fault he was more focused on work instead.
She was the first and last person he fell in love with.
Six years later, he's sitting in a pub. He gets dragged out by Eijiro and Denki here every weekend, but some days, he prefers coming here alone. The clicking of heels catches his attention, and he glances up from the glass he's been staring at for the past couple of minutes, watching droplets of water race down the glass. It's a woman dressed in a beautiful black minidress with sequins like stars. His eyes move up to the woman's face, and he almost spills his drink. 
It's her, his ex. 
His hands grow sweaty, and he sets the drink on the table in case he drops the glass. He's still as a cat, his breath caught in his throat, heart hammering in his chest. He can feel his shirt clinging to his chest. He hasn't heard a word from her in six years. No texts, no calls, no meeting each other accidentally, so seeing her in the flesh made him dizzy. He couldn't tell if it was the drink or if it was just her. He remembers feeling the same way when he first met her in a cafe. She used to work there at the time, and he'd buy coffee every day from that very cafe despite not being a fan of coffee. Here he was, several years later, feeling the same way. He'd convinced himself that he was over it. Maybe he was not. Maybe that's why he drank like a sad old man by himself every week. Maybe his heart still yearned for her.
She's beautiful, he reminds himself. She's always been beautiful, but did he ever make her feel beautiful? Did he make her feel loved? Could he still make her feel loved? His schedule wasn't the same as it used to be before, given that crime rates had dropped significantly over the past few years, but there wasn't any point now, was there? It was too late. 
He wonders if he should go up to her, watching her check the time on her phone. She shook her head when the waiter asked her if she'd like something, giving him a smile. She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, tapping a finger on the table. He catches the glint of a beautiful emerald ring on her ring finger, and he understands. She's waiting for her fiancé. 
He picks up the glass and downs his drink in one big sip. It makes his throat burn. He doesn't care. He gets his glass refilled again. Her fiancé arrives a few minutes later. A tall and handsome man with kind eyes and a warm smile. He watches her eyes light up at the sight of him. Once upon a time, he was the one making her eyes light up like that. She gets up and plants a quick peck on his lips. The man sits across from her, taking her hand, thumb brushing over the ring.
Katsuki thinks of how that could've been him if he wasn't so obsessed with his work back then. If he didn't come home late, after she was deep asleep, cuddling a pillow because he wasn't there and leaving in the early hours of the morning so his side of the bed was cold by the time she woke up. He thinks of how he could have been the one she dressed up so pretty for. How he could've been the one asking her to marry him. 
I don't deserve her, Katsuki reminds himself. She deserves someone who puts her first, someone who's far kinder and loving than he is. Someone who isn't him.
He's lost count of how many drinks he's had at this point. He doesn't remember when he got up. He doesn't know when he got into the parking lot. He's throwing up into a trash can. He feels a hand on his shoulder while he's still vomiting. He glances back to see her watching him with concerned eyes. Her fiancé stands behind her, equally concerned. 
"Are you alright?" she asks. Her voice reminds him of a flower garden. Soothing and calm. 
"Yeah," he manages to croak. Her eyes dart around, looking for his car. He's in no state to drive himself. 
"Would you like me to call Mina or Eijiro?" she asks. 
"No," he slurs. He's drunk, but he's sure her fiancé raises his eyebrows questioningly. 
"Do you know him, love?" he asks, surprised she knows the number two hero. 
"Oh, I used to know him," she replies casually, scrolling through the contacts on her phone. 
I used to know him. 
He tries not to stumble as he watches her talk to one of his friends on the phone. He wants to tell her he's glad she's found the one for her. He's glad she's happy. The words never leave his throat. 
When she was done talking on the phone, she glanced at him with a worried smile, "Would you like us to stay with you in the meantime?" 
He wishes she weren't so kind to him. He wishes she'd give him an ugly stare and tell him he looked pathetic, but she's always been like this. Too kind for her own good. He shakes his head in response. She hums and locks her arm with her fiancé, telling him it was nice meeting him with a goodbye. No see you around. Just goodbye. 
He sits in his car, the back of his hand over his eyes as he waits for one of his friends to pick him up, her words echoing in his head. Oh, I used to know him. She did not say something like 'ex' or a 'friend'. He was just a stranger to her. A someone she used to know. 
Nothing more. 
Tumblr media
287 notes · View notes
dewdropdinosaur · 3 months
Text
As the World Caves In
ALASTOR X READER
Summary: Alastor has heard his fair share of voices in Hell, none quite like yours though.
Warnings: NONE. Except a sassy narrator. Have a wonderful day lovelies!
Requests are OPEN, so feel free to ask!
In the heart of Hell, where chaos reigned and sinners roamed, there existed a peculiar location known as the Hazbin Hotel. The sole purpose of such a place to redeem sinners like yourself dear reader, though let's not get too much into that. (We all know why are you on this website darling.) Among its more eccentric residents was Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon. He was a charismatic and enigmatic figure, whose mere mention sent shivers down the spines of even the toughest souls in Hell.
One day, as Alastor hummed and strolled through the halls of Hazbin Hotel, he heard a melodic voice echoing from a nearby room. Intrigued, he followed the sound and found Y/N, the cleaner Charlie had hired to aid Niffty in the small demon's never ending pursuit of a bug free haven. Gracefully going about their chores, Y/N sang with a voice that seemed to transcend Hell itself.
The song was unfamiliar to Alastor but nonetheless a haunting melody that told the tale of love amidst impending doom. Alastor, ever the connoisseur of entertainment, paused to listen. Must have been from a time later than him, shocking that a song from not the Roaring era peaked his interest. Though, the lyrics did resonate within him, in such a way that made his demonic heart stir with emotions he thought he'd long pushed down.
"My feet are aching, and your back is pretty tired. And we've drunk a couple bottles, babe. And set our grief aside. The papers say it's doomsday, the button has been pressed. We're gonna nuke each other up boys, 'til old Satan stands impressed."
Y/N, unaware of their creeping audience, continued to sing as they dusted and cleaned. A certain sadness filled their voice but the small smile that graced their face fueled the fires of the red demon's listening. The Radio Demon leaned against the doorway, his crimson eyes fixed on the cleaner. The dichotomy of the cleaner's sweet appearance and the dark setting of Hell created an atmosphere for such a song that was both beautiful and unsettling. The Radio Demon did love his ironies.
"And here it is, our final night alive. As the earth burns to the ground. Oh boy, it's you that I lie with, as the atom bomb locks in. Oh boy, it's you I watch TV with as the world.... as the world caves in."
The world caving in, a sentiment not unknown to Alastor though he might try to deny it. Few times had a performance stirred him to pensive thought, at least not a performance in his afterlife. As the final notes of the song hung in the air, Alastor applauded, his sharp teeth revealed in a sly grin. "My, my, my dear. That was quite the performance. I must say, you have a talent for making even the damned feel something."
Y/N jumped with a small yelp, startled by the sudden presence of the Radio Demon. They looked up at him with a mix of surprise and fear. "Alastor! I didn't realize you were there." Whipping around to face her demonic audience, Y/N felt an all too familiar pit of anxiety well up in her stomach at the sight of Alastor.
"No need to fret, my dear. I simply couldn't resist the allure of your singing," he replied, tipping his cane with a flourish. "I've heard many voices in Hell, but yours… it's truly captivating."
Y/N felt their cheeks flush with color, a compliment is a rarity in the underworld. Nonetheless one from the Radio Demon. "Thank you, Alastor. It's just a little something I do. Keeps spirits up, you know?" Rubbing the back of their neck with a sheepish grin, Y/N let out a small laugh. Almost as musical as their singing voice, Alastor noted that for later.
Alastor chuckled, his laughter statically filling the place. "Ah, the irony of keeping one's spirits up in Hell. Quite amusing, my dear. I do have a soft spot for a good performance. Now tell me, what is your preference for---"
As Y/N nodded along and answered his questions, a peculiar alliance formed between the Radio Demon and the sweet-voiced cleaner. Little did they know that their paths would cross again in this chaotic realm, where the unexpected was always just around the corner.
153 notes · View notes
boydepartment · 1 year
Text
・:*: 𓇼 ⋆。˚ 𓆝𓇼 enhypen masterlist ⋆꙳• °‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·。 ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
page two
Jungwon boyfie texts
spilled milk (oneshot- requested 💓)
pastry (oneshot- comfort)
type of guy who…
Heeseung boyfie texts
type of guy who…
charity work (oneshot- fluff?? i dunno tbh ahha)
boring draining tedious company party (oneshot- fluff)
Jay canteen (oneshot- fluff)
boyfie texts
you’re smiling (oneshot- fluff(grumpy x sunshine)- requested💗
type of guy who... - requested💗
boyfriend(oneshot- jealous jay)
spoiled rotten (headcanons) - requested 💗
cherry(oneshot- pg-14) - requested💗
Jake Condensation(oneshot- fluff) requested💓 boyfie texts masks off? (oneshot- fluff)
speak now(oneshot- fluff)
why couldn’t i be(oneshot- comfort)
my only love(smau- ONGOING)
family card(oneshot- angst) requested 💗
type of guy who...
what a coincidence(oneshot- fluff)
Sunghoon broken skate(oneshot- fluff)-requested💓
missed performances(oneshot- fluff)- requested💓
your voice baby!(oneshot- fluff)- requested💓
tell me baby!(oneshot- fluff) -requested💓
dog walker (oneshot- fluff- feat. yang jungwon)- requested💓
boyfie texts
when he misses you(headcanons-fluff) - requested 💓
knee pads(oneshot- fluff)- requested💓
Sunoo bittersweet (smau, COMPLETED)
past memories(oneshot- angst to fluff) -requested💓
boyfie texts
Ni-Ki RIKI SHUT UP(oneshot- fluff) -requested💓
Turn around(oneshot- fluff) -requested💓
the view(oneshot- fluff) -requested 💓
boyfie texts
come up with lies(oneshot- angst) -requested 💓
type of guy who… -requested 💓
time (oneshot- angst/fluff)
three strikes (oneshot- fluff) - requested 💓
@ iluvmygf (series/smau- ONGOING)
All Members (mostly text-fics)
boyfie texts -> pt 2
boyfie texts after an argument -requested 💓
boyfies after a long day - requested 💓
when you’re jealous - requested💓
when you simp over the background dancers- requested💓
when you're insecure
rich headcanons -requested 💓
when you take your promise ring off -requested💓 -> PT TWO
accidental text confessions -requested💓
enha as animal crossing villagers
enha as stardew valley characters
enha as disney characters
enha as taylor swift songs
enha roadtrip headcanons
calling enha pretty
enha as sad songs
enha texts when your parents are arguing
enha as texts -> pt 2 -> pt 3 -> pt 4
enha as cars characters
enha as middle school songs
“i’m in love with you.”
“i love you in every universe.”
enha texts when you shut down
enha texts when you’re a christmas nut
enha texts + scénario when you ask them to call
enha texts when their christmas présent gets spoiled
enha texts + scenario when you call them in danger - requested 💓
enha texts + scenario when you’re failing a class- requested 💓
enha texts + scenario comfort - requested 💓
enha texts being down BAAAD - requested 💓
enha texts being WHIPPED - requested 💓
Asks
who runs up and hugs you all goofy
who’s clingy in the morning
games with sunghoon :)
goofy ass
boxing match gf
you are so pretty
themed bandaids
barbie
ur so pretty :(
oOooOoooOO
old man
blushing
i like it when you sleep for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it
karaoke king
mr fanfiction
😙 kiss
emphasis on lol
skirt protectors 3000
i’m eating concrete
729 notes · View notes
ln4madness · 27 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
hit me hard and soft - LN4
summary: y/n is a big fan of billie eilish so obviously lando has to listen to every song of the album💙
warnings: none? gets kinda sad and angsty and mention of smut.
~
“OMG LANDO LANDO LANDO LANDOOOO!!!” Y/n practically screamed as she ran into the bathroom where Lando was getting ready for the day.
“Yes, sweetheart?” Lando tried to say while brushing his teeth.” Y/n looked at him, smiling from ear to ear, “Hit me hard and soft is out” y/n said with excitement. Lando looked at Y/n in a surprise. “Excuse me, what now is out?” Lando said being surprised after hearing the name of the album. “Billie’s new album you muppet”
You were sitting at the kitchen island, eating breakfast with Lando as you connected your phone to the speaker and pressed play.
“This is sad” Lando said as the first notes of SKINNY started playing.
“Just listen to it and shut up”
You were on the werge of tears as the song continued.
People say i look happy
Just because i got skinny
But the old me is still me and maybe the real me
And i think she’s pretty
When you heard these lyrics you let the tears fall down your cheeks. “Don’t cry baby” Lando said as he smiled at you. “I can’t, are you actually listening to the lyrics Lan?” “I am baby and this song is beautiful, just like you.” You smiled when he said these words to you.
When the song ended you pressed pause before the next one had started.
“So what do you think?” You asked Lando.
“Oh i loved it, its beautiful”
“Yeah it’s literally a 10/10 I love it.”
“This is different” Lando said as the song started playing over the speaker.
“When a little snippet of this was released I already fell in love with it.” You said.
It’s a craving not a crush
I could eat that girl for lunch
You smiled and looked at Lando as Billie sang the lyrics. “What?” Lando asked as he looked back at you. “Listen to the lyrics, I could eat you for lunch” You said and giggled at Lando. “Whoa whoa whoa, it’s still breakfast time, that’s for later” He said and smirked.
“Wow, this was amazing.” Lando said as the song ended. “For real, my favorite already” you answered. “Okay on to the next one now” you said and pressed play.
“Oh you showed me the snippet of this one, I like it.” Lando said. “Yeah it’s amazing, such a masterpiece.”
As the song goes on you and Lando keep listening to it while enjoying breakfast. The song is amazing, you love it, lando loves it, it’s amazing.
“You know what this is?” You ask Lando. “No?” he replies. “This is the perfect song for late night drives.” You tell lando. “Actually yes, we’re definitely playing this on our next late night drive.” Lando says and gives you a kiss.
The song comes to an end and you ask Lando what he thinks of it.
“I think it’s a really good song, definitely a 9 or a 10.”
I want you to stay
‘Til I’m in the grave
‘Til I rot away, dead and buried
‘Til I’m in the casket you carry
If you go, I’m going too
Cause it was always you
“Baby I think these lyrics are about us, cause nothing’s gonna come between us.”
“That’s so sweet y/n, I love you so much”
You make your way to Lando who is sitting on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You wrap your arms around his neck and Lando instantly pulls you in by your waist.
Birds of a feather
We should stick together
“We will always stick together baby.” Lando smiles at you.
“This isn’t another sad song is it?” Lando asks. “I don’t know baby, just listen”
And I know that you love me
You don’t need to remind me
You smiled at Lando as you both listened to the song and the lyrics.
“I love you” You whisper to him. “I love you too sweetheart” Lando whispers back to you and presses his lips to yours.
As the song starts playing, instantly there are tears streaming down your face.
“Noo don’t cry again, love” Lando says as he pulls you in a hug. “It’s just a really really sad song” “I know, baby, I know”
Man am I the greatest
The greateeeeeeeesssstttttt
“Sometimes that’s what I think.” You say, immediately realizing that there are a million questions about to be asked.
“What do you mean baby?” Lando asks as his smile drops a little. “Am I the greatest?” You answer.
“Honey, what do you mean by all this? Are you the greatest? Of course you are.” Lando says as he’s holding your face in his hands and looking in your eyes.
“I’m sorry, let’s just listen to the next song, love you”
But I need to confess, I told you a lie
I said you, you
Were the love of my life
“You when I say you’re the love my life, it’s never a lie.” You tell Lando. “I know baby, and you’re the love of my life, best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I’m the best thing that’s happened to you? Not even winning in Miami?” You ask
“You two share that best thing ever place”
You smile at Lando and ruffle his hair a little, messing it up. “Now try to do that again, you looked good drenched in all that sweet champagne, it tasted good as well I wanna drink it again.” “You mean drink it or lick it off my body again?” Lando says and smirks at you. “Nah I liked drinking it out of a glass, didn’t have that sweaty taste.”
“You muppet” Lando said as he playfully smacked your head. “Didn’t your mom teach you to not hit girls?” “Hey that was barely a hit”
The song is almost done as the melody changes and a beat comes on.
“Ouuu I like this” You say. “Yeah, just how you like messing up my hair.” Lando said as he tried to fix his hair you messed up earlier.
“Wow this sounds like something from a 50s food place” Lando says.
“Yeah obviously, did you like go deaf when I told you the name of this song - the diner”
“Oh yeahh makes sense.”
“Fucking idiot” You say as you laugh
“Your idiot” “My idiot”
“This is nice, already my favorite” You say.
“Didn’t you say Lunch was your favorite?” Lando raised a brow at you. “I can have two favorites you know?”
“Omg” you laugh. “What?” Lando asks.
“Billie is never beating the kahoot music allegations
“What?” Lando laughs and has a confused expression on his face. “Well you know how everyone said NDA sounds like among us? this sounds like kahoot music”
The song kept playing and you both had no idea what’s about to come. You’re enjoying the song, and soon the song is almost at the end.
“This is really nice wow”
“Yeah we got one more song left.”
Suddenly you hear a familiar melody.
“OH MY FUCKING GOD, IT’S TRUE BLUE OMG LANDO OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS SHE FUCKING DID IT”
you were so happy you could explode with happiness right now.
“true blue? the unreleased song you showed me?”
“YEAH LANDO IT’S BEEN UNRELEASED FOR SO LONG OMG SHE FINALLY RELEASED BUT THIS IS LIKE DIFFERENT”
“What do you mean different?”
“This isn’t the original version, it’s like a new version, more grown up billie, i love it”
“I TRY TO LIVE IN BLACK AND WHITE BUT I’M SO BLUEEEE”
“I’D LIKE TO MEAN IT WHEN I SAY I’M OVER YOUUU” You scream the lyrics and Lando just looks you with hearts in his eyes.
————————————————————————————
guys im literally in love with billie and hmhas i cant even explain it
(hardcore billie fan since 2017)
spent the whole day just watching the race (LANDO P2 YAY) and hockey and writing this fic😫😫😫
96 notes · View notes
Text
MCR moments that send me to the 80% of the ocean we haven't seen yet
Here's parts of My Chem songs that make me feel feelings, in no particular order
The desperate, gritty, sad second "And we'll love again, we'll laugh again, we'll cry again, and we'll dance again", I could write an essay on this part I swear
Vampires will never hurt you: "I'll never let them hurt you, i pROMISE". I believe her every time
Also in vampires pretty much any of the distorted screams like the "COME ON"
ALSO ALSO vamps "Someone get me to the doctor and someone call the nurse" and the entirety of that verse - smashing my head on my desk pounding my fist on the ground palpitating my heart with my ribcage ahhhhh (we're done with vampires I promise)
"l i g h t u p t h e s t a g e a n d w a t c h m e KICK OUT THE JAMS"
Fronk's rabid dog backing vocals in Honey this Mirror
The final line in the Dead! bridge (Is that the most both of you can gi-i-i-ive?) literally leaves me Dead! every single time
The grief-stricked, utterly DESPERATE bridge of Helena
Any Ray Toro solo
But especially Vampire Money (when i speak of the milf it is he who i speak of)
And all of Mama's guitar tings (I am dead in Seattle SIR PLEASEDFRWSASRSEAEW-)
boy division
"I MISS YOU, I MISS YOU SO FAR"
Scarecrow Rocals
" ~ TAKE A TRAIN OUTTA NEW ORLEANS AND THEY SHOT ME FULL OF EPHEDRINE ~ "
early sunsets over monroeville
When all the instruments cut out in the intro to This is How I Disappear and G screams "GO"
Also the unhinged spiraling vocals and instruments during the breakdown of Disappear
The Light Behind Your Eyes
"WAKE UUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPPP" - Sleep outro
"I AM NOT AFRAID TO KEEP ON LIVING, I AM NOT AFRAID TO WALK THIS WORLD ALONE" (I spontaneously burst into tears when I first heard this as a depressed 13-year-old, i will never forget that day)
The "WOO" at the very end of Headfirst for Halos
The harmonizing fuckworthy rayrard(?) vocals during "You and I" in Headfirst for Halos (there's probably more but it's most noticeable there)
Aw sugar
Desert Song. Especially the first verse
Mad Gear being so fucking old and so fucking alone in Mastas of Ravenkroft
"The World Is Ugly, but you're beautiful to me"
Also the Vampires reference in the World Is Ugly at the very end
Kiss the Ring: "Fist up, head down, Hail! (Hail!) to the King!"
The weird-ass high-pitched pussy-loaded submissive and breedable squeaky moan in the Sharpest Lives
The "ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta" in Make Room!!!
"When both our CAAAAAAARRRRRSSSSSS COLLIDE"
Heaven Help Us
Planetary dance vibes
Welcome to the Black Parade breakdown bridge thing, and the climactic earth-shattering "I DON'T CARE WE'LL CARRY OONNN" that leveled new jersey
G dropping bars in Heaven Help Us (second verse)
The very rocals in the Ghost of You (Lotms version)
Also rocals "One, two, three, four!" In PP
The background "saaay goodbye"s in To the End
Also To the End funkiness
WE GOT A MEDICAL EMERGENCE MEDICAL EMERGENCY
That part in Tomorrow's Money where I misheard one part as "I fell in love with a vampire / 'M gunna throw you in the air fryer"
The complete incoherence of overlapping yelling and guitar noises before it all stopped with the last "Make Room!!!"
"YOU CAN FIGHT THIS ALL YOU WA-A-A-HANT" run in Surrender the Night
This list will only get longer and longer
794 notes · View notes
kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months
Note
i KNOW i might sound insane, but what if vampire! Engel sets up traps around her isolated dark castle to capture any animal that is unfortunate enough to step on one of them, because she swears to not ever consume human blood and swore to only consume animal blood
and vampire hunter! König unluckily (luckily??) stepped on one of the bear traps, and she heard a scream from outside, so she went out to check and SHE SMELLED the smell she tried so hard to hide herself from
And she just kinda stood there, drooling and saw a very big BIG man, she thought it was a bear until he pulled out her dagger and pointed it at her, while panting in pain
IDKKK ITS GIVING ENEMIES TO LOVERS? STRANGERS TO LOVERS????? I worte this ina hirry because im about to cry thinking about it
Oh god the angst exploded in this one… sorry not sorry but these two are just UGHHH
König thought he was getting rescued when he heard the sound of soft footsteps. His stomach sinks when he sees this is not the case: his situation is far more dire than he thought. Not only is he stuck in an old trap and about to lose a foot: he's being hunted by the most dangerous, most beautiful little predator he has ever seen.
She's prowling, hungry and keen, crawling barely ten feet away from his sorry corpse-to-be. Her eyes glow in the darkness as she licks her lips; she's looking at her prey like a cute little house cat, dark and treacherous and extremely curious. He can't understand how those perfect hands could've managed to set all these traps: they look so dainty and frail. But looks can be deceiving when it comes to vampires. She's probably stronger than an average human male.
He can't hear her thoughts, which must be filled with the desire to drink. He doesn't have to: any vampire hunter can see that this one hasn't eaten properly in a while. Her lips are pale, she's breathing fast, she even moves on all fours like she's either too afraid or too weak to stand. Her fingers curl around the moss as she looks at him; her body almost trembles with anticipation.
When he draws his blade, she lets out a hiss and recoils further into the shadows. He's a pathetic mortal and a weak man for mourning the loss of that pretty little face and those lovely, enchanting eyes. He knows that she's a vampire, she's supposed to seduce her victims, but he can't help his sinful thoughts.
No woman has ever looked at him like that…
No woman has ever prowled upon him, it's usually the other way around. It won't take tremendous strength to kill this lovely little creature, but it will take a tremendous amount of willpower, a thing he used to have in abundance before he met her.
"Shy one. Did you set all these traps?" He asks and lowers his blade. The woman slinks back into a beam of moonlight, now standing on her own two feet. Her hips sway like in a dream, her red little tongue darts across the pale, bloodless lips.
"Who else if not me?"
Her voice is cool, cascading silk. It's calling him in like a siren song, forcing him to lower his dagger even more. She's dressed like an angel, in the purest white. A cruel joke from a vampire, or a desperate attempt to recall who she used to be when she was alive.
But her eyes are innocent – she's either the most cunning vampire he's ever met or then she's trapped, far more badly than him.
"You like to torture your victims?"
His question leaves the creature blinking. Then the curious eyes narrow to slits, the confused, hungry little mouth begins to pout.
"No. The traps are not meant for humans."
"No…? Why am I caught in one then?"
"Perhaps because you're clumsy."
She's cute when she's annoyed. Vampire charms or no, she lashes out so tactfully and elegantly that he cannot help but smile. What a proud, stubborn little creature… She's a sad, lonely little thing, just like he is. He would love to take her home as a pet.
His eyes must be softer when he smiles because it throws the vampire off guard. She takes a curious step towards him.
"If I set you free… will you leave me in peace?"
Her eyes are big and pleading now, free of any deceit, and he curses in his mind. If she's trying to allure him into another trap, it's working far too well.
"Ja," he tries to keep his voice even, "But if you try to drink from me–"
"I don't drink from humans."
"...Why not?"
There's no answer. But she takes another step, then another, then floats down to help him out of the huge trap meant for game. Her suspicious eyes dart to his blade every now and then until he decides to sheathe his weapon. The old hunters would deem him dead after this, but he can only concentrate on the woman before him. Her weak frame summons an immense amount of strength to open the trap.
The scent of blood must be like opium to her as the fresh wound on his leg becomes exposed. Her nostrils quiver and flare, her eyes flutter closed as she sighs softly. For that sweet, soft sound alone, he would open his veins for her himself.
"Fräulein… Are you alright?" He asks while bleeding profusely all over the ground. If she attacks him now, the culling would be well earned. No man should be this weak-willed.
"You… You smell good," she moans, her voice filled with so much longing that he can't take it anymore.
"Scheisse... Listen. One bite. Ja? You can have one bite and then I'll–"
Darkness and light envelop him all at once.
She dives forward like an eager lover, her body cold and frail and yet, so demanding when it hits him like the softest tide. He falls back, taking her with him, the vampire woman who is everything he ever wanted.
Her lips tremble on his neck for a while before she opens her mouth and sinks her tiny little teeth in. What else can he do but clutch her – in pleasure and in pain as she drinks and drinks and drinks until he's hard and groaning under her. The pain in his leg turns into full, ecstatic pangs of rushing blood, his ears are ringing with the song of it.
All he can feel is her. He can feel her relief and her hunger and the quick but quenching thirst, it makes him so happy his heart is about to burst.
The shy little lady is all but fearful now. She doesn't seem to care that his hands are roaming across her back and all over her waist. No: she hums and purrs with delight, attaches to him like she's in desperate need of a release too. She hasn't had a hearty drink in ages, then. He's glad to provide it for her: death is a small price to pay if he gets to hold her like this. If she kills him in these woods, it will be a good way to go.
"You don't… drink from humans, ja?"
He tries to laugh, but his voice comes out as a dry croak. The body above him goes tense like a bowstring.
"Don't be shy, kleine Engel," he rumbles when a pitiful sob disrupts the drinking. He only holds her closer: if these are his last minutes alive, he will spend them with this woman in his arms. The reassurance works, in a way: she draws breath so fast that the last gulp turns into a suck. It forces his whole body rigid; nothing has ever felt so good. But then she stops, and lets him go with an agonized, heartbroken look.
Vampires can't cry, that's what he was taught long ago in the academy. The demons of the night are to be hunted because they can never shed a tear for their sins. But this angelic creature, now warm and full and lush in his embrace, has tears streaming down her face.
"What did you call me?" She asks with a frail, thin voice. The white shadow above him is made of pure light as his senses begin to fail. He barely discerns that she looks more healthy, even more mesmerizing than before now that she has had her fill. He whispers his last words into the night air, just before losing consciousness.
"An angel…"
It's dawn when he wakes up without ever expecting to do so.
Someone has kept the beasts away during the dark, dangerous hours of the night. His wound is treated and his water can is full when he comes to. She has even brought her some bread and cheese on the forest floor. Stolen, no doubt, from some local homestead. The only evidence of him holding her in his arms last night are the two little punctures he finds on his neck. Small, neat and cute, just like her.
It doesn't help to know that vampires rarely leave their victims alive unless they wish to come back to them. It doesn't help to know that the reason for their return is usually the desire to turn the victim into a vampire – into a companion.
He should pursue and hunt her, but he's too weak. Or that's what he tells himself, at least. Deep down he knows he wouldn't do it even if he was in his prime.
After all, he could never kill an angel.
305 notes · View notes
obae-me · 5 months
Note
I am so sad that I'm not a Solomon fucker, because if I was, I would have actually cared about the Bon Voyage event. It's kind of cute, but I am very apathetic towards good old Sol. What are your thoughts on it?
Sorry for getting to this late! I wanted to actually complete the event before I responded, and I got to it very last minute! (Since I have low-key kind of hated the events lately. I hate spending 2-6 minutes doing the songs only for five lines of text as a reward, it's almost painful, but anyways...)
Now, Solomon as a character, I love. I was very meh towards him in the original Shall We Date, but they really started working on his character towards the end, and in Nightbringer they really pulled it home! Now I love Solomon! Before, he was just kind of some sketchy little sorcerer that they usually brought in to help solve plot devices- and don't get me wrong, he's still like that, but we definitely get a deeper look into *why*.
He's an immortal human whose desire for power and knowledge was so great, he somehow went head on with nearly the entire Devildom, convinced Barbatos to make a pact with him, and then made Barbatos show him every experience he could, at least, that's what I remember from the lore dropped thus far. And what do you usually get when you get a human that knows and sees too much? A broken human. A human who feels like there is no purpose left. A human with mixed morals and a shattered ego.
Now, this part is just my own personal thoughts and theories, but Thirteen talks about how Solomon's soul used to be beautiful like MC's, but then it became ruined. I imagine it's because he 'flew to close to the sun' and it nearly broke him. MC has hope, has love, has so much to learn still, so much to give. I imagine when Solomon learned and saw everything he could, he had hardly any hope left. Nothing was new to him anymore. He spent so much of his life seeking knowledge, and once he finally got it all...what was left? It corrupted him, surely. But then, clearly, somewhere along the line, his new purpose was to protect and stand for the human realm. Then his dealings with demons began.
The game always talks about how Solomon is now closer to a demon than a human. But I think that's because he *had* to "become" a demon. He has so many pacts, had so many exchanges with the Devildom, he had to learn how to survive amongst them. The way he withholds key information until the crucial moments. The way his "accidents" always seem to line up in his favor. The way his generous actions typically end up satisfying something of his as well. Exactly what a demon does. Exactly what someone would learn spending so much time around demons. I mean, that's exactly what MC learns how to do throughout the entire game! Play it smart, do whatever you can to earn the Brother's favors, and get their pacts. And then when MC throws that concept out the window and does things just to be selfless and then gets their pacts anyway? It almost breaks the "law" of the world that Solomon has come to know.
I'd like to think that maybe that's the reason why Solomon was sent to live with Simeon and Luke in Shall We Date. He needed to learn how to be around other beings, and maybe being around angels could correct some of that.
Now, about the event, the event was actually pretty cute. And while I have my general complaints about the events being very short and shallow, this one wasn't the worst of the bunch. Solomon getting some of the demon brothers together to give you a really nice dream is such a cute thing to do (even if he went behind your back to cast a spell on you). And also I'm not sure if it was stated specifically, but I'm like 98% sure MC and Solomon shared a bed at the end there, which is really adorable. I love sleepy bed cuddles.
This kind of ties back to my insights into his character, where he's spent so long being around demons that he's not really sure how to be a normal human anymore. He spends so much of his time planning and prepping how to do something for you when all he really needed to do was ask. All he wanted was a cute little date and to watch the sunset with MC and went through like a 100 step plan just to get it. And MC's little options to scold him for his schemes is really adorable in my opinion. Essentially it boiled down to them just saying "just ask next time, you idiot!". And Solomon being one of the smartest characters in the game being so lost and confused in terms of relationships and romance is really...very cute, which is why I think I like the concept of his character so much. I love when super overpowered characters have weaknesses like this, or learning new lessons.
I also loved the concept of just Lucifer, Asmo, Luke, Belphie, and Satan all just really hamming it up for MC. They preformed for them all just as a little thank you, and when they clarified, it wasn't really for anything huge. Shopping, helping them with decisions, just spending time with them, that was enough to fully convince them to pick up this dream-world-improv. Which...is really sweet.
Man I love these boys.
123 notes · View notes
writingonleaves · 2 months
Text
were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman
Tumblr media
pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character
warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread
inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift
word count: 5.6k
author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!
~*~*~
When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 
It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.
She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 
At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 
She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.
May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)
I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 
I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 
But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.
When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 
At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.
I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.
I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?
The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 
But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.
After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?
When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 
I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 
June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 
I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?
I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.
I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 
Yet we still hurt each other. 
This fucking hurts.
You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 
Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 
When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 
Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?
I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 
All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 
It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.
And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.
The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.
I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 
So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.
Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 
So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?
I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 
I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?
You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.
Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 
Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?
It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.
I fucking loved you.
I wish it ended differently.
July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)
I really really fucking miss you. 
I do. 
I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 
I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.
I miss having you as a friend. 
I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.
Do you get the urge to do the same?
July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)
It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 
Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 
The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 
In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.
I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.
Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 
October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)
It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 
Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?
But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 
Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 
Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 
But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 
I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 
But I did once.
You did too, right?
November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)
I hate Halloween. 
Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 
Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 
It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 
We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?
Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 
Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 
I looked for you in every crowd for years. 
That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 
I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 
It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.
I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 
But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 
I hate Halloween.
November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)
I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 
Or maybe not. 
I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 
Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.
June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)
Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 
I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.
I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.
I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 
I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 
I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 
But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 
I hope you're moving on. 
And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 
If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.
Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 
Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 
But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 
Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 
She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.
And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 
She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.
After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.
Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 
Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 
Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 
It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.
Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 
(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)
She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 
The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 
She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 
Jeremy walks into the book store. 
Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 
As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.
Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 
The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 
The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 
The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 
Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 
“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 
Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 
He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 
“I see you bought my book.”
“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”
“You’ve been watching?”
She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”
“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”
She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”
“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 
She swallows. “I appreciate that.”
“I’ve already read it, you know.”
“Read what?”
Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”
“Oh.” 
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”
She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”
“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 
He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”
“Could I get a signed copy?”
“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”
He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”
“You’ve already done that.”
“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”
She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”
“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 
“We’re just going in circles now.”
“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”
“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”
“The point, is that I still love you.”
“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”
He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”
“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”
“I do.”
“And what are you going to do about that?”
“What are you going to let me do?”
“I live in Brooklyn.”
“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”
She tries again. “It’s been five years.”
“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”
Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”
“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”
“I hurt you too.”
He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”
“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”
“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”
“Even after reading the book?”
“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”
“Try for what?”
“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”
“Why did you never text me?”
“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”
“The message?”
“You blocked me, right?”
Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”
He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”
“Who are you guys playing?”
“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”
She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.
to my first fan, 
i still love you too. 
xxx-xxx-xxxx
yours, 
noelle
He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 
“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”
“Oh.”
“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”
“I know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”
She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”
His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.
75 notes · View notes
star-girl69 · 4 months
Text
brooklyn baby yaps pls enjoy (no spoilers for the fic just background basically)
all my knowledge of bands comes from daisy jones and the six i apologize in advance
y/n is the vocalist bc i do what i want!!!!!!!
and then i already mentioned clarisse is the bassist and also the unofficial “leader” of the band…..
MY GIRL CARRIE ON DRUMS IK THATS RIGHT!!!!!!!
matty is guitar bc obvi…..
tyla is also vocals but mainly the keyboard
and then jackie is another bassist
and the band is called the amphetamines LOLLLL
their songs include: (basically the uv album. i’m sorry lana is all i trust myself w to be able to articulate properly…. i KNOW her ok)
Brooklyn Baby - Lana (the first song clar and y/n wrote together, y/n mainly wrote the lyrics while clarisse came up w the instrumentals, y/n reflecting on arbitrary past relationships but also small parts about her and clarisse being opposites but still)
MY GIRLFRIENDS IN A BAND SHE PLAYS THE BASS WHILE I SING LOU REED
Sad Girl - Lana (y/n simping)
BUT YOU HAVENT SEEN MY GIRL YOU HAVENT SEEEEEEEEEN MY GIRL YOU HAVENT SEEN MY GIRL YOU HAVENT SEEEEEEEN MY GIRL
West Coast - Lana (more of y/n simping…..)
I CAN SEE MY BABY SWINGING HER PARLIAMENTS ON FIRE AND HER HANDS ARE UP ON THE BALCONY AND IM SINGING OH BABY OH BABY IM IN LOVE
Pretty When You Cry - Lana (y/n after it sinks in that clarisse really doesn’t care about her and this band, and y/n tells herself she doesn’t either but we all know the truth……)
I WAIT FOR YOU BABE YOU DONT COME THROUGH BABE YOU NEVER DO BABE THATS JUST WHAT YOU DO BC IM PRETTY WHEN I CRY
Florida Kilos - Lana (clarisse came up w the idea and specifically this verse down there in all caps but tyla and y/n collaborated it was definitely the band trying to move into a more pop sort of thing but didn’t really work)
I FEEL YOU PRETTY BABY FEEL ME TURN IT UP HOT LOVING YOU IS FREE I LIKE IT DOWN LIKE IT DOWN WAY LOW BUT YOU ALREADY KNOW THAT YOU ALREADY KNOW
Money Power Glory - Lana (another y/n and clar collab, clar came up w the idea and most of the lines and y/n helped in places, mostly a clar production tho)
I CAN DO IT IF YOU REALLY REALLY LIKE THAT I KNOW WHAT YOU REALLY WANT B B B B B BABY I CAN DO IT IF YOU THINK YOU LIKE THAT YOU SHOULD RUN GIRL RUN I WANT MONEY POWER GLORY I WANT MONEY AND ALL YOUR POWER AND ALL YOUR GLORY HALLELUJAH I WANNA TAKE YOU FOR ALL THAT YOU GOT
Fucked My Way Up To The Top - Lana (clar came up w the demo years and years ago but scrapped it until y/n found it one day and was like HOLD ON GIRL YOU COOKED reworked it and surprised clarisse by singing it for her, definitely where clarisse finally realized that she was in LOVE love lol)
THIS IS MY SHOW GO! GO! GO! GO! GO! THIS IS MY SHOW I NEED YOU BABY LIKE I BREATHE YOU BABY FUCKING NEED YOU BABY MORE MORE MORE MORE
Old Money - Lana (features absolutely no bass, clarisse who is pretty talented w songwriting when she tries wrote it entirely FOR y/n bc y/n jokingly complained that she missed singing really beautiful piano ballads, basically just clarisse confessing her love while still being too COWARDLY and STUPID to actually say it…. obviously written ABOUT y/n as well)
BUT IF YOU SEND FOR ME YOU KNOW ILL COME IF YOU CALL FOR ME YOU KNOW ILL RUN ILL RUN YO YOU ILL RUN TO YOU ILL RUN RUN RUN ILL COME TO YOU ILL COME TO YOU ILL COME COME COME
that’s all i got y’all! i hope you all enjoy these little snippets……
93 notes · View notes