#i went through my notes for tags because I didn't want to ignore anyone?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

srvbryn · 8 months

Note

heyy, I was the one that asked if you're taking requests and I'm so happy you are!!

Could I request Luke x reader, where reader stats sending him some anonymous notes (just small things to avoid being obvious) and ends up getting kinda sad when Luke is considering almost every girl in the camp except her, and the ending can be whatever you like

Hope you're comfortable with this! 🥺

Also, if you're up to make tags with anon identification can I be 🫀anon? (It's so I can find the answers to my asks faster, but it's okay if you don't want to 😊

Hope you have a nice day 👋

Luke Castellan. Secret notes

𐙚⋆.˚ Luke Castellan X f!reader (no mention of Godly parent)

Summary: "I've always admired you" He used to be the sweetest boy in camp, but now he's known as a traitor.

𐙚⋆.˚ light angst, THEY USED TO BE FRIENDS but then idk shit happened man, Luke actually like reader BUT he thought reader didn't like him so he spend time with different girls everyday to ignore his feelings lol, this shit take a whole different turn LMAOAOA

A/n: THIS ONE IS SO BAD - this writing shit block hit hard 😭😭 I barely have any ideas , I'm sorry if this one is BAD 🫀 anon 😔

“For what it's worth

I did love you

And I could have said it a thousand and one times

But I wanted nothing more than for you to hear

To understand and to represent all that it meant

And I would say it again

To make it a thousand and two I do still love you

And it sure still does sound sweet

For what it's worth

I understand you

Maybe as far as you want me to

Maybe even more, but I do

And the consequences of understanding you

I didn't know would be love

Love unabashed and irreplaceable

Love that can't be replicated

A flame that didn't need to be fanned

Because how can you understand the beauty of a rose

And leave it in the garden...”

Maybe knowing it has thorns?”

Eighteen-year-old (name) has her future all planned out - spending the time at Camp Half Blood and move out of the place; attend college near the city; spend the summer in Spain.

The second I close my eyes, the memories play, and I find myself back at the beginning.

He used to be the sweetest boy in camp, but now he's not. It was sweet how he would respond to girls smiling at him. He was kind, the type of man you would want in a relationship.

He's literally the personification of a fairytale man, the way he walks the way he talks.

He's flawless.

i. The first time I secretly gave you a note

I got some paper and wrote down my feelings for him. This is the first love letter I've ever written, and the first I've sent to Luke.

When I was finished, I went in without anyone noticing, folded the paper, inserted it through the slit, and pushed it inside.

You sigh with relief. It was dumb; seriously, a love letter? He's the most gorgeous and strongest swordsman in the camp, and the only way you can confess is through an anonymous love letter??

It was sparring time, and you really enjoyed it because you could admire Luke Castellan.

What you didn't expect to see was an Aphrodite girl batting her eyelashes so hard while staring at him. She's going to fly with that eyelash of hers, you thought to yourself.

But she has courage, and you admire her for it.

Lover girl: 0

Ms steal your man (#1) : 1

Luke Castellan was still awake that night, looking at the moon, as is his usual routine, which no one knows about.

Reading the notes he found inside his locker,

"Dear Luke, I've always admired you since the first time I saw you. - ♡"

It was short, but not meaningless, because it was the first time someone gave him something to remember.

Lover girl: +1

Ms steal your man (#1): +0

ii. 14th February - I hate you

It would've been nice if your crush noticed you. You would be lying if you said you didn't hate valentine the most.

Inside her cabin, (Name) couldn't shake the sting of loneliness on Valentine's Day.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she imagined Luke enjoying the company with other cabin girls. "Why does he always choose them over me?" she questioned, her heart heavy with unspoken emotions.

Meanwhile, in the dimly lit hallways, Luke laughed with the others, blissfully unaware of (Name)'s pain.

"Luke, why not spend some time with (Name)?" Annabeth suggested, sensing her sadness. Luke brushed it off with a casual remark, "She's fine on her own."

Back in her cabin, (Name) clenched her fists, whispering to herself, "I'm always on my own." She tried to distract herself, but every attempt failed. The distant echoes of laughter outside only intensified her solitude.

As the night deepened, (Name) heard footsteps approaching her cabin. Hope flickered, but it dimmed as she realized it wasn't Luke. A gentle knock echoed, "You okay, (Name)?"

Tears streaming down her face, she replied, "I just wanted to spend Valentine's Day with someone who actually cares."

iii. I should hate you

"You should've seen (Name)'s face," one girl giggled, recounting a previous encounter. "She's such a mess."

Deep in her heartache, (Name) wished Luke would notice her suffering. "Am I not enough?" she wondered, dealing with the harsh reality of his neglect.

The cabin's walls appeared to close in as the weight of unspoken words pressed down.

Luke's laughter echoed through the night, a stark contrast to (Name)'s silent sobs.

She craved his presence, his understanding, but he remained blissfully ignorant. "I thought I meant something to him," she murmured, wiping away tears.

iv. Thank you, Annabeth

The evening sun cast a warm glow over the tranquil lake as (Name) joined Annabeth, Percy, and Grover.

Laughter and chatter filled the air as they settled by the water's edge. Annabeth, with her piercing eyes, couldn't help but notice (Name) seemed distant.

"Hey, (Name), you've been quiet. Everything okay?" she asked, concern etched on her face. (Name) sighed, her gaze fixed on the water. "Yeah, just thinking about stuff, you know?"

Percy, ever the perceptive one, chimed in, "You can talk to us. We're like family."

Grover nodded in agreement, "Totally, (Name), we're here for you."

As they enjoyed the lakeside atmosphere, Annabeth couldn't ignore (Name)'s glances toward where Luke was chatting with another girl.

She approached (Name). "Look, (Name), it's been going on for a while now. You can't keep avoiding this. You should tell Luke how you feel instead of sulking every time he talks to someone else."

(Name) tensed, her expression guarded. "It's not that simple, Annabeth. Luke and I are practically strangers."

Annabeth crossed her arms, her voice gentle yet firm. "You're like an older sister to us, and we hate seeing you upset. If you don't tell him, you'll always wonder 'what if.' Trust me, it's better to know than to wonder."

The words lingered between them, and (Name) mulled them over as they decided to take a dip in the lake. The water was cool, and the moon reflected on its surface as they swam.

Percy splashed water at Grover, starting a playful water fight. (Name) couldn't help but smile at their antics, but her thoughts still lingered on Annabeth's advice.

As they swam back to the shore, Percy asked, "Come on, (Name), join the fun! Don't let your worries ruin the evening."

(Name) hesitated for a moment before giving in, and soon laughter echoed around the lake as they played and enjoyed each other's company.

v. Realization

Luke's curiosity got the better of him when he noticed (Name) sneaking into Hermes Cabin.

As he approached her, he had a furrowed brow and a puzzled expression on his face, and the pile of small love notes in her hands revealed the secret he had unknowingly discovered.

"(Name), what are you doing here? And what's with all these notes?" Luke said.

Her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and nervousness. "Luke, I... um, well, these notes are for you. I've been leaving them hoping you will read them"

Luke's eyes widened in realization, understanding crossing his features.

Luke said teasingly. "You're the one behind these notes? Why keep it a secret?"

Glancing everywhere but at him, you replied "you hangout with different girls everyday what makes you think I have the courage to confess?"

Luke's expression softened as he processed (Name)'s confession. The air between them thickened.

"You don't have to hide, (Name). Your notes brought joy to my days. Knowing it's you only makes them more special."

vi. The prophecy

“Luke—”

“Good-bye, Percy. There is a new Golden Age coming and you won’t be part of it.”

He slashed his sword in an arc and disappeared in a ripple of darkness.

The scorpion lunged.

I swatted it away with my hand and uncapped my sword. The thing jumped at me and I cut it in half in midair.

I was about to congratulate myself until I looked down at my hand. My palm had a huge red welt, oozing and smoking with yellow guck. The thing had gotten me after all.

My ears pounded. My vision went foggy. The water, I thought. It healed me before.

I stumbled to the creek and submerged my hand, but nothing seemed to happen. The poison was too strong. My vision was getting dark. I could barely stand up.

Sixty seconds, Luke had told me.

I had to get back to camp. If I collapsed out here, my body would be dinner for a monster. Nobody would ever know what had happened.

My legs felt like lead. My forehead was burning. I stumbled toward the camp, and the nymphs stirred from their trees.

“Help,” I croaked. “Please . . .”

Two of them took my arms, pulling me along. I remember making it to the clearing, a counselor shouting for help, a centaur blowing a conch horn.

Then everything went black.

Oh gods, "Annabeth-" (name) voice breaks the silence.

"I know (name) I know" She replied.

...

“You idiot,” Annabeth said, which is how I knew she was overjoyed to see me conscious. “You were green and turning gray when me and (name) found you. If it weren’t for Chiron’s healing . . .”

The room was quiet when Percy told them the story.

It was quiet for a long time.

“I can’t believe that Luke...” Annabeth’s voice faltered. Her expression turned angry and sad. “Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him.... He was never the same after his quest.”

“(name) can you believe what he just did?!” Annabeth said.

"I don't.. but seeing Percy like this oh my gods... I'm so sorry Perce"

Maybe I was dumb for not noticing you were plotting to betray us.

See you on the other side, Luke Castellan.

#🫀 anon #luke pjo #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan angst #pjo fanfic #pjo series #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy series #percabeth #grover underwood #annabeth chase

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deafsignifcantother · 3 months

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if music be the food of love, chapter 5

♥ here you go lovies, it’s series time | chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter six ♥ summary: a cute comfort fic teehee and featuring their playful bickering ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic to romance) ♥ word count: 4.3k ♥ pinterest board ♥ notes: so essentially my concept is that reader isn't a 'sinner' at all and is just a gentle girl who has these abilities just because of a vengence she has + also i hold onto my thoughts that her radio shit is genuinely a curse because of her actions. not really within context of this story but i wanted to add that to emphasize that that is why alastor doesn't know how to talk to her sometimes. ♥ no tag list rn :3

You can't ignore him, especially when he pops into your room. He didn't want to, but with Charlie asking nicely and Vaggie threatening him, he rolled his eyes before giving in. You were the last person he wanted to see, and everyone knew that Charlie asked Husk first.

But nobody wants to get close to you when your songs are so miserable.

Angel walked by your room and burst into tears, as did Charlie when she went to knock on it. Even she couldn't overcome the nightmarish visions you forced into her head.

She gets it now, how terrifying you make people. She understands why you isolated yourself.

Alastor's first thought was to ask you to leave, especially since you brought despair to his employees. But after putting his fingers on his temples, he realized he needed to put his stubbornness aside and be a friend (in actuality, Charlie got mad when he talked about it).

He's never had to comfort you before. His eyes dart around the room, avoiding your saddening form. What does he say? The whole thing was somebody else's idea; he didn't have the time to think about something to say.

What would make you happy?

He sneaks up to you, hiding his static, wanting a second to see how you pose yourself in isolation. The eerie violins show no signs of dissipating; you keep still under your blankets; anyone could have mistaken you for sleeping, but he's watched you long enough to know the difference. Deep down, he is grateful that you won't show him what true terror is the way you do to others; he can't even imagine what his version of torture would be.

Should he say that you can ever push him away? That must be it...it's what you would only dream of him saying.

The first thing he does is have his shadow travel on the wall attached to your bed, where you can make eye contact with it. A bit of static joins your music. It's pretty endearing.

When you reach out to touch it, he's seized by the urge to leave the room and ditch it there to comfort you. Is that all it would take? Judging by your music's influx, he may still sense the harmful waves.

A chill seems to run up your spine, and to your shoulders, and in a slow turn, you look at him. What a sweet girl, he thinks. But then you whip your head back towards the wall. His eyebrow twitches.

Alright. Playtime.

He emerges from his shadow in the blank of an eye and lays on the bed next to you, on his side, propping himself up by the elbow. Your eyelids flicker at the sight of him.

Your hand noses between your bodies, and in a careful push, you shove his face away from you. He stares at the wall. When his eyes meet yours, there's a warning, and you pull away.

You strain and turn around, but his hand yanks you back to face him.

"Stop trying," you sign.

'You've changed so much,' he said yesterday, facial expression portraying nothing but disgust. And with his prideful smile, 'Overlords rise and fall, and I remain through it all.'

With your signs, he stays still, brain racing. "I'm not trying anything."

"I know you don't care, who asked you to be here?"

He almost responds with an answer. He lifts his hands to his shoulders, the ghost of 'princess' on his hands, before he transitions it to, "We all care about you, my dear."

He struggles. "I care for you."

"You're lying."

When you turn away, he lets you. But that doesn't mean he doesn't grab your waist and pull you against him, making room for him to transport right in front of your face again.

"Why don't you stop trying to drive me away? It's not going to work. I'm not going anywhere. I never have."

Except for the years he left you alone, you retort only with your expression. You both skip over that conversation.

"You always came back." You sign.

Alastor is winning you over. He knew that would work. Even your music has started to lighten up, though the minor key is still prominently lingering.

"Of course I do, darling."

For a simple test, you lean your head forward, and with an instinct he regretted, he presses his forehead against yours. But it's not enough to calm you down. He notices the lack of motion in the room, how still your hips are, and how small your breathing is. Your neck, as gorgeous as it is, is bent at an uncomfortable angle to match him. He knows it hurts you, so like the gentleman he is, his big hands cup your neck and cheek, letting you rest against him.

There you go; your music calms completely. Was it that easy for you to forgive him? You must genuinely relish him. You couldn't process the next several seconds. His forehead pulls away from yours, and your eyes widen when he moves closer and presses his lips against your forehead. They don't perk like a kiss but rather brush against you.

And then he disappears, his task considered done, and he leaves you flustered (on purpose). That asshole. Lukewarm air passes over your shoulders. Hell's days are always warm, but you find yourself shivering uncontrollably. He's only held you like that once before, the last visit before he left for what felt like an eternity. His lips felt like Heaven then, just as they do now.

After a few minutes of lying in your bed, exasperated at his fleeing, especially after holding you in your bed like that, you try to grasp how much he probably disliked doing that (unbeknownst to you, false, it was just the uneasiness if you were going to do something).

Flickering lights grab your attention, and you turn around to see Charlie flicking your light switch, already half inside the room. With an awkward wave, she invites herself in, fiddling with her hands. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Your eyes widen. You're in trouble, aren't you? Will they kick you out? Is this the end of everything? "I'm sorry for all that," you try to act casual, "Sometimes it happens."

Which is the most dismissive way to describe it.

Charlie just smiled softly, shaking her head. She keeps walking into the room, perhaps because of the urgency, which explains her bad manners.

"No, no, you don't have to worry about that—this isn't about you," she reassured you, resting a hand on your shoulder. "I need to ask you something."

Even more ominous.

"What possibly?" You sit up in bed properly, letting your legs dangle from the side. "Am I supposed to be keeping a secret? Is it about Alastor?" The words slip. Those sentences together are the worst combination.

"It's... Partially about him, yes." She responds, letting out a breath she didn't realize she was even holding. How is she going to explain this? You look her up and down, taking in every bit of her body language.

"Partially?"

She nods, beginning to fumble her hands together as she tries to form words. You stay patient, letting her figure it out for herself while at the same time screaming inside. Even your music starts to change.

She forces out whatever she can muster. "How long have you known him?"

"Since the moment he entered Hell we've known each other. Now tell me why you ask?"

Charlie begins to fidget as soon as you confirm, almost like she doesn't want to continue that conversation. She took another deep breath before responding. "Has he always acted like this? Did something change him?"

"Goodness gracious, will there be an overall point to this? He maintains his ideals, yes." You put a hand on your forehead to calm yourself down.

"That wasn't what I asked you."

Your eyes pierce hers, the look in your eyes reminding her that you were an Overlord, while the stare she has reminds you that she could kill you in an instant. Charlie Morningstar is glaring at you.

"He hasn't changed." You start off slowly, making sure she can understand. "You can trust me on that. There isn't any drastic events in his time in Hell and he will never change."

You say the lie as if it's second nature. From the time you left, something could have happened to him. With the differences in his composure, having less goofiness than you once remembered, you know it must have been something.

"That's exactly what I'm concerned about."

"Oh, he's not going to hurt anyone here." Your laugh doesn't comfort her. "If he wanted to, he would have already."

She has always assumed that, but hearing it from one of his closest friends makes her feel better.

She needed to come to you to confirm her beliefs. She trusts Alastor, but only to some extent. His motives are questionable. However, if you trust him, then why shouldn't she?

"Do you really think so?

"I know so. Don't you go worrying about it, princess."

She takes a deep breath, her smile returning. "Thank you. And-And thank you for being here! I gotta tell Vaggie."

The interaction ends with her grabbing your hands, nodding, blushing, and turning away with excitement in her steps. So delighted to keep her lover happy.

You look around your room, searching for any clue of Alastor's shadow. You wouldn't want him to know you were just talking about him. With no sign of him, the privacy offered calms your nerves.

You strip off the nightgown, definitely shooing away any of his shadows that could have been around. Brush your hair and tie lace layers to your waist before putting on the final layers of your dress. You look just as you did those bizarre years ago. A smile reaches your face, one that only you have witnessed.

"You keeping yourself busy?" You sign, sitting down at the bar. The slight ting of melancholia in your music makes Husk's eyes water, but he swallows the lump in his throat so as not to make you feel guilty.

"You could say that."

There's a childish kick of your legs. "Did you know I was coming?"

"Of course I did. We can hear you from a mile away."

"Not like that, Husk," you laugh and wave at him. "I meant when Alastor left."

But the conversation is closed before it can even start.

"Ah, finally, you've joined us!" Alastor's shadow dances across the walls before Alastor sits next to you.

"Yeah, I had to eventually." You give him the most comforting smile.

"What have you been doing since this morning?"

You give a joyous smirk, sarcasm evident. "I can ask you the same thing."

"Oh, you know," he plays along, "the usual. Nothing. Nothing here satisfies my interest."

“Interests like cannibalism? Gruesome murder? Your boredom must be unbearable! Were you waiting for me to join you?”

“Oh my, how sadistic of you. Are you a glutton of violence and murder, my dear?”

"Maybe I am, everybody loves letting off a little steam."

He laughed softly and stood beside you after you sat at the bar. His smile never left his face, even as he gave you a look that screamed oh, bullshit. You still have those tendencies?

“Oh yes, of course. A very common thing, letting off steam. So tell me, my dear,” he leans forward against the bar, "How do you like to let off steam then?”

You avoid his question for a few seconds as you point to a bottle on the shelf, Husk throwing a thumbs up before treating you. You lick your lips. "Going around luring people in, I suppose. Showing people their true weaknesses. The same old, same old, ah, do you remember?"

His smile widens, and his movements grow almost excited and cheerful. “Ah yes, what a pleasing reminder. I vividly remember you tearing hearts out of people,” he says with a soft chuckle. His eyes look you over once more before signing speaks again. “Though, I also recall how you hated getting bloody."

You laugh. "Ah yes, it was the stickiness. I used to ask you to poof it off for me." You wave a hand dismissively, a small smile growing. Husk stares at you two and the joyous banter between friends and he gets a sick feeling in his gut. Two dangerous and terrorizing overlords laugh as if they're humans again. There's no worse thing in Hell.

He chuckles once more and gives a small roll of his eyes before leaning forward and putting an arm around your shoulders. He pulled you closer gently, making sure you didn't topple over.

“Oh, and how you'd hate touching me whenever you saw me after a meal. You wouldn't even shake my hand!” He continues as he moves his hand and fiddles with a strand of your hair. “Though, I suppose it’s quite ironic.”

"Ironic?"

His smile turns into a smirk, his hand still gently playing with a strand of your hair as he signs sarcastically.

“Oh my dear, you really are quite simple sometimes, aren’t you? You can incapacitate anybody to the point of unrecognition right in front of me, yet you never seem to enjoy seeing me when I do. Quite ironic, don’t you think?”

"You're a tad bit scary, and I wouldn't consider myself as scary as you. You looked frightening, and I'm afraid I looked beautiful." A small laugh leaves your lips. Your thoughts flicker through all the moments you've seen him covered head to toe in blood, the moments where he'd just smile and address you like nothing was wrong.

He continues to smile without faltering, his head tilting, and he sits so close to you that Angel starts paying attention with wide eyes.

“And too beautiful, I’d say. Your victims just fall into your lap, imagine a world where mine would! But of course, I find myself enjoying the chase."

Great, Husk thinks, now they're bantering like serial killers.

"Alastor, all of Hell would be extinct if people just fell into your lap."

His eyes were locked on yours, a soft and almost mocking expression on his face. “Let’s be honest, darling. I doubt all of Hell would be gone.”

"You'd save Rosie," you list off people. "Mimzy, of course, if you're considerate enough. Hmm, who else? Nifty, what a charming woman."

He gave a soft roll of his eyes and decided to list more names.

“Ah yes, you can’t forget old Husker at the bar can you! After all, he does keep me entertained with all his sarcasm and wit." His eyes slide over to the cat in question, who avoids his gaze to pretend he's having a deep conversation with Angel.

"That's all I can think of!" You smile to yourself, both of you playing around with the apparent other option. "But I doubt you'd enjoy life without victims. That's your forte down here. Or... most certainly ever."

All he offers is a slight nod in agreement. “That’s absolutely correct, darling. I would probably be dreadfully bored without all those wonderful victims to have my fun with, and my dear, you'd never become one of them. I'd keep you here.”

"What if you get too bored and decide to kill me off?" Your smile becomes lopsided when you try not to laugh. The drink before you finally gets touched as you bring it to your lips, continuing to sign with the other hand. "I'd leave your little party."

“Oh, please. As if I would ever kill you. After all, you keep me entertained when you're near.” He says, eyes gleaming in amusement as his eyes lock onto yours, his smile growing wider as he rests an elbow on the table, his entire body facing you.

"What a compliment," You put the drink down a little too hard. "You know how to make a lady blush."

The same smile stays on his face, not faltering as he lets out a soft, almost ridiculous chuckle, knowing you can't hear it. He replies as if you weren't being sarcastic.

“Oh, I always knew how to properly flatter people!" He pauses for a moment, grabs your drink, and cheers to you. “Though I do believe I like it when you blush more.”

He downs it as if it's nobody's business.

"I can tell," and that's the only response you give to that. "Has Charlie given you any demands today?" You quickly change the topic, trying to keep the casualness from becoming something more.

He leans back from the bar, shaking his head. "Oh, I wish she gave me something fun to do. Something to keep me preoccupied, but I was once again given nothing.”

"Do you have any plans, then? Something to help your forever boredom?"

He pauses, simply sitting in place with a smaller smile as he seems to think for a moment. “Hmm, not a single thing, I suppose. My only plan for the evening was to see you again! That lovely music of yours tells me that you feel much better.”

"Always better when I see you," you try to say but end up rolling your eyes sarcastically, turning away. "Thank you for that. I know I scared the others."

“Oh, please. You scaring the others is quite the common occurrence at this point. I doubt it surprises anyone anymore.” The loud laugh you give him helps him continue, “And of course! No need to thank me, I'll always be here now.”

"Very funny, what a comedian you are." The looming sensitivity of the topic doesn't fail to make me feel a twinge of guilt. It's embarrassing how much you depend on him, though he must enjoy it greatly with how much he edges it on.

“Oh my, my dear, always getting sarcastic with me, I do wonder why.”

"Do you like?"

“Until the day we die."

"How sweet!" It's your turn to cheer to him. "If we died together, I'd be such a winner. Or would you?"

Angel puts a hand between you two and signs the few sentences he knows. "Get a room."

Alastor barks out a laugh while you just smile.

"This is a room! How witty you are, Angel Dust."

He turns to you for approval, and his smirk grows wider when he sees your smile and the hint of genuineness in your eyes; his lids fall down almost teasingly. You focus on Angel's glance at you, where you just give the smallest shrug at him. Alastor continues the chatter and pretends Angel isn't even there. Husker tries to wave Angel away with a warning. If you're going to piss off anybody, don't let it be those two.

“Oh, I always win, darling. You really should know that by now.”

His signing is filled with gliding in a way that only an old-fashioned man can manage.

"You won me over." A blatant confession, but you pretend all it is is a friendly remark. "And you won the trust of the princess of Hell! I guess that's just the charisma you're known for. I always knew you would accomplish something great. When you first arrived, I remember how you started your reputation by picking off overlords like they were flies. You should have heard the gossip Zestial started!" And the most impactful change of tone, "Can I ask a question?"

His smile grows almost wider at your acknowledgments. Good to know he left an excellent first impression. His response lands in his brain, but he considers communicating it, a hint of amusement lingering in his eyes as he slowly nods once, signaling for you to go on.

“Of course you can ask a question, dear.”

"Why didn't you kill me?" Your smile seems to grow. A few days ago, if you were to ask, you would be frowning and nervously looking away. But the rather blunt words he forced you to comprehend last night cause you to realize just how much you've lost the attitude you were known for. When did emotions get ahold of you?

“Now, now, dear, you didn’t seriously think I’d kill you, did you? You should know that the day we met, you have captivated me. I wouldn’t simply kill you after being so captivated by you. Now, why didn't you try and kill me?”

His question has never crossed your mind. Your eyes widen a bit. Alastor relishes in catching you off guard.

"For the same reason, of course. There's nothing better than someone bewitching." You place a hand on your cheek.

"Well, I’d consider it fair, seeing how you haven’t tried to kill me.”

The huff Husk gives doesn't go unnoticed by either of you. You turn to him, a silent notion that he's been counted, and gesture back up to the drink he poured for you again. This time, he makes another one for Alastor. "Oh please," Alastor pushes the second drink towards you. "It was absolutely disgusting."

You roll your eyes, taking a painfully loud sip from the glass and letting out an 'ah' when finished. But then your eyebrows furrow, processing the sentence he had previously said.

"Haven't? Don't you mean hadn't? I wouldn't even think about killing you now." Once again, you shrug, but lighter this time. "Young man, you know that you'd win."

"Well, I'm certainly glad you've realized that your taste in drinks is absolutely dreadful.” His ears flatten on his head. "Did you seriously just call me a ‘young man’? Really, darling?”

"I'm older," you remind, playfully shaking your shoulders, tilting your head back and forth as you do so. "You're a young man to me, never forget. I could just almost pinch your cheeks."

“Oh, well, excuse me, grandma.” He says, mocking your gesture. “Never say young man ever again. Or that you can ‘pinch my cheeks.’”

"So defensive." The drink once again finds its way to your lips. "Next time I hold your face, I'm going to pinch your cheeks. I got to catch you by surprise."

"You'll never be able to touch me again."

"You wouldn't be able to live without it. Don't pretend not." You swivel the stool, ensuring one of your shoulders blocks Husk's sight. "I know your secrets."

“What can I say, darling?" Both of his hands go up as he shrugs. "You're getting rather confident, aren't you?"

Is that a threat? You lean back, eyebrows furrowing. "Aren't you the confident one here?"

His fingers gently grab your chin and pull your face closer to his, his eyes studying you closely. “My, what a cute question, darling."

You two should definitely get a room.

"Maybe not confident," you tease, "Perhaps passionate? I would never want to be in the way of your passions. What would I do if you went all big scary monster on me?"

What a curious way to phrase it. Do you consider it a 'big scary monster' when his limbs contort and his bones crack? That's the charisma he's always loved.

"Do I not scare you, my love?”

The question surprises you a bit; the tone of it unmatches the previous tension. "No, of course not."

His once-consistent smile grows enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes. He shakes his head slightly in a soft yet sarcastic manner.

“No, of course you’re not afraid of me, darling. You’re never afraid of me. Always so fearless when you’re around me, isn’t that right?”

His cracked, sour casualness gives a dynamic much love when side by side with your relaxed attitude. You smirk and shake your head. "I'm as brave as a lion."

"Of course you are."

"Then it's settled, I should have no reason to be scared of you. Case closed." You stand, extending your hand to shake his. "To mutual respect." He stares at it, wondering if he can trick you into a deal at this very minute. He glances up at you, eyeing you closely as he slowly and gently takes your hand.

“Ah, yes. To mutual respect." He shakes your hand firmly and politely. Another day.

"Perfect." You pull away, looking around the room at where to go next. Sit on the couch? How boring. You can slide down the stairs railings; that would be more exhilarating. "You said you wanted to see me this evening? Is there really anything to do around here? Do you just sit and dissociate all day?"

He sighed when you pull your hand away from his. His eyes still follow you closely. His smirk dropped slightly, misperceiving your words.

“My, how cruel. You really think all I do is sit and dissociate all day?”

"It's what you do instead of sleeping. Quite unsettling, Alastor."

"Always awake, my love. Always awake."

"Definitely. Yeah, my mistake."

Your smile reminds him of the decades you've spent together just having a long conversation. It's the type of conversation two married people would have when they get ready for work in the morning.

Sitting on the couch ended up being a good idea. You miss making him laugh. Alastor always looks at you as if he wants your blessing, his eyes remaining on you, watching your every expression and reaction to his words.

It's a unique type of interaction with The Radio Demon, but not a bad one. There's nothing that makes you feel more special than the way he looks at you.

Stop doing that. You plea in your head, and you drive me insane. How else am I supposed to feel?

He crosses his feet when he hears the jazz finding its way into your music. He leans into the couch, smile growing, not letting you know why he's smiling.

#hazbin hotel #x deaf reader #x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #if music be the food of love

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ilikeyoshi · 7 months

Text

no ok i'm gonna.

mentions of rape and trauma, including symptoms of reliving that trauma.

"many modes of fiction and storytelling aren't expected to trigger tag."

just because it's normalized doesn't mean it's the best or even a good practice.

"printed books don't include content warnings."

no, but what printed books usually have over fanfiction is resources like "does the dog die", which i personally think isn't good enough and that it would benefit (reasonable) readers AND writers if content warnings were encouraged and more normalized (readers so they aren't unexpectedly exposed to harm (except by assholes), and writers so they aren't condemned for heavy topics (except by assholes)).

fanfiction, except maybe the huge juggernaut fics, don't have the popularity to be recorded in the same fashion. (neither do lots of lesser known books, but i think this isn't a good thing for anyone and actually makes the need to normalize trigger warnings in the actual creation MORE important, not less.)

"the content warning 'chose not to tag' means there may be triggering content. it is not the same as 'no tags apply'."

yes, that's all true and fine. for fellow people with bad trigger responses: take note of this. 'chose not to tag' means there could still be triggering content, not that there isn't or won't be triggering content. this is a good thing to know for your safety.

and the biggest issue i have with that post: "readers are responsible for protecting themselves from triggering content."

yes! of course they are. but how are they supposed to do that without trigger tags? like, this is a genuine, non-gotcha question. i want to understand what these writers think triggers are and/or what they actually expect from readers.

and like, as a general "get this out of the way": i do believe there are people who are outraged for the wrong reasons and using this (and endless other controversies) as an excuse to 'justifiably' get mad, and those people are wrong, need to step away, and are hurting the issues they claim to care about. i ALSO believe it is disingenuous to ignore an issue or complaint out of hand just because it was delivered angrily, and that it's unfair to tone police someone who's been hurt. do i wish we could all express our issues calmly and politely? yes. do i think that's realistic or even right? not really. do i think it's important to listen to the heart of the issue as best as we can anyway? very much.

the problem i have with sentiments like "protecting your mental health is your own responsibility" is WHEN they're coupled with sentiments like "it's NOT my responsibility to provide you with the tools TO protect your mental health". the idea of "just close the tab" or "just hit the back button" falsely attributes the experience of being re-exposed to trauma ("triggered") as simply upsetting or unpleasant but not debilitating. this is not what happens.

traumatic triggers are sometimes straight forward: "rape depicted in fiction triggers trauma responses." a lot of times they're less straight forward. "mentions or implications of off-screen rape trigger trauma responses." and sometimes they're completely impossible for an outsider to predict. "omelettes trigger trauma responses (about rape)."

the last example is a real one, paraphrased from an article written by a woman who was raped. she describes (again, paraphrased) that "the morning after, she couldn't/didn't want to believe it happened, so she went through motions of normalcy by making her rapist omelettes for breakfast". it isn't that eggs are traumatic in and of themselves, but that eggs trigger(!) memories and traumatic responses about the rape. it is a trigger by association.

obviously, and as i recall she says this herself in her article, there is no world in which "eggs" is a trigger tag 99% of the population uses. it is a very obscure trigger that requires context to even fully understand how it's a trigger in the first place.

this, i think, is what all survivors of trauma and/or mental illness with obscure (and even non-obscure) need to accept: we WILL be triggered throughout our lives. we cannot remove these things from existence, and it is for our own best interest to develop safe and healthy coping mechanisms to help us through trigger episodes, as well as remove ourselves from the situation as quickly as possible.

i suspect this is what these writers are trying to say too—and it's GOOD advice. it is.

however... i find it, to be perfectly frank, callous and dismissive to suggest that writers—or any kind of creators—are irrelevant in this issue when they write knowable triggering content (NOT eggs, but things like rape) and do not take incredibly simple, easy, 2-to-5 second measures to warn for that content. i fear they do not understand (or do not respect) what being triggered—really, actually triggered DOES to a person.

the symptoms of trauma triggers are vast, and no two people experience them the same way, but some common and/or significant symptoms include: flashbacks, delusions, fight or flight response, vomiting, fainting, and suicidal ideations. the effects of these symptoms can result in extreme distress, exhaustion, mental illness, physical inability to go to work/school, damaged relationships, serious injury and death.

triggers are not "upsetting". they are debilitating and even life-threatening. and in my experience, they get demonstrably worse when the person experiences them AFTER establishing trust or interest in the triggering thing; as in, after they're 3, 5, 10 chapters into a fanfic, when a trigger warning before chapter one could have hurt them incredibly less, if at all. this has happened to me.

no, it is not a writer's fault that someone is traumatized or mentally ill, and no, i wouldn't hold a writer accountable (socially or legally) if someone died after having a traumatic response to content in their fic.

but i think it is so... weird? that some writers who KNOW this about trauma and mental illness are not immediately compelled to add a few words to their tags to prevent this from happening to someone. sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, it reminds me of healthy people who weren't masking for covid, despite the fact that if they were infected and asymptomatic, they could expose the elderly or immunocompromised to infection, which could KILL that person. yeah, you didn't hurt them, their trauma did—and yeah, you didn't kill them, their infection did—but how can you ACTUALLY feel perfectly comfortable not doing the bare minimum to protect another human being? how does it not eat you up inside that people might be dead as a ripple effect of an incredibly easy task you chose not to do?

i sincerely am trying to understand it, but i don't think i can. as a person who has been traumatized in multiple ways, both well-known ways and obscure ways, i cannot IMAGINE knowing there's a way to prevent someone else from experiencing the horrors (and dangers) of reliving it and just Not Doing It. especially when it's SO easy.

i see a lot of concerns about "spoiling the story" via trigger tags, and i can't help but think... that's not really how it works? i don't think "there's a rape in this story" is a spoiler, i think it's a content warning. i think if you're prioritizing spoilers over someone's mental and physical safety, that's weird as hell.

BUT, if it's really that big of an issue for you or your story, i have an alternative, equally simple suggestion: link to a google doc that lists all trigger warnings (that you know to apply; again, i'm not asking you to know one person in the world has an "eggs" trigger, and no other reasonable person is either), and tell people "this link contains trigger warnings that may include spoilers".

i think it's, frankly, a little entitled to say you won't trigger tag your fanfic because of spoilers. i think people should have the ability to make informed decisions, in advance, about reading your story. i think they should be allowed to spoil your story for themselves for literally any reason, ESPECIALLY to protect themselves from triggering content. this IS what people do for mainstream media, this IS what "does the dog die" does. this IS an established long-standing norm in public fiction.

as i said, i fully believe there are outraged idiots out there who don't actually care about the issue and just want to get their brownie points for being mad and aggressive. i do not think it's fair or reasonable to dismiss the issue entirely because idiots are co-opting it. there are idiots on every side of every issue ever. they do not lessen the merit of an issue just because they're loud and awful; they are living straw men. we cannot stop them, including by forsaking the issue they're co-opting.

and what really bothers me about that mindset is that there are people—genuinely harmed people—who may not express the issue politely or calmly, but their experience is still important and they're still saying important things. we HAVE to accept that people, right AND wrong, are going to tell us their side of things angrily sometimes, and we have to be willing to listen to what they're saying. you close yourself off to a TON of growth and opportunity for compassion if you refuse to acknowledge or respect other people's pain because they 'expressed it wrong'.

and you're right, no one can force you to do it. i just don't understand how you possibly justify not WANTING to do it without being, at best, ignorant, and at work, just... really selfish.

#HOUGH. ough. ok it's out of my system.#this isn't a threat or anything btw but i do unfollow anyone who thinks like this.#because. y'know. i understand that by thinking like this it means none of your posts (creative or otherwise) are provably safe for me.#like i'm saying this so you don't think it's for another reason. not as a “i will NEVER shop here again” gotcha.#yoshi talks

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sunset-peril · 4 months

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Villain here. Yeah fr. I was kind of a jerk in my post/tags but only because (especially on that day) I was quite frustrated and fed up of the "m*phlink happens in aoc" "um aksually m*phlink is canon in aoc ☝""zelink can never happen in aoc" arguments I kept seeing online in various places.

I do understand wishful thinking and all but it has felt like nobody saying these things actually played the game (or watched the cutscenes all the way through), just purely repeating what others said and running with the fact the champions are alive while ignoring the actual content presented in hwaoc.

Like, if I was a writer setting out to make m*phlink canon, I would not give her a single scene of focus (her introduction) and then have her in the background for the rest of the game, while writing zelink scenes like that castle hallway moment that feel pulled straight from a fan's pre-calamity zelink fanfic lol. Koei Techmo/Nintendo's intent seems pretty obvious (especially since they went and added an entire extra zelink montage in DLC content), so I really don't know how "m*phlink canon in aoc" became such a popular idea?

There's also the robot in the room: Terrako. The name means "earth child" and becomes glued to both Zelda and Link as if they're his parents. I mean one of the DLC scenes even makes them both look like out-of-breath parents who have been searching high and low for their missing toddler (the comedy of the moment being that Terrako is actually more than fully capable of handling himself and they just missed the intense battle that happened)

NOTE: If anyone decided to reblog this, please do not add any ship tags for anyone. That's gonna be my policy moving forward for content like this.

~~~

Completely and entirely understandable. No judgement here. Can't judge actually, I'm a problem sometimes. I've been guilting of misinterpretations too. I had my crap called on my characterizations of Rhoam called out this year, and I've had to revisit both BotW and AoC to fix it. If I blocked everyone who had One of Those Days where they decided to pick a fight against the Fandom, especially for a mischaracterization, I'd be blocking all my mutuals, a lot of people I respect in the Fandom, and also I'd be blocking myself. We're human it happens. So long as you don't endorse being a butt.

I lose my lid on misinterpretations a lot more than I really want to admit. Especially when they have that real coercive wording of "accept the thing as canon or else," or just refuse to acknowledge itself as a headcanon, then get butthurt when they are (very politely or gently) fact checked by someone else. Both of which could have been entirely avoided if people were upfront with whether the Canon had been regarded or not (which is usually what sinks my battleship).

I've sniffed both ends of the skunk (does that saying work?) concerning this whole mess with AoC and BotW and all that jazz just from fic writing alone. Having ZeLink be canon and have there be a true reason for the Zora Armor's existence? Yikes. Piss keyboard warriors on both sides off. (the gist of it being that Link was part of a dying sub-tribe to the Hylians and agreed to an arranged marriage to Mipha to prevent himself from having to commit inc*st, however, Mipha was clear that she knew Link didn't love her and that he only agreed in order to save his sister, and also willingly dissolved their contract when he fell in love with Zelda instead. But that's another post)

But I'd never try to coerce someone into accepting that as the reason for BotW's semi-confusing set up. For all canon purposes, I blame the Zora themselves for not critically thinking about Link's current situation, and believe that they may have been unintentionally manipulative to him simple because they weren't really thinking about Link's complete absence of memory/sense of self. Yet again, not something I'd force somebody to believe as canon. And emphasis on "unintentionally," because I really don't see malice in any of them. Especially Sidon (and whoo, he's a whole other dumpster fire)

As someone who would easily place Age of Calamity into the My Top 3 Zelda Games (shoot me, I know), I've spent a stupid amount of time analyzing that game. The idea for ZeLink being pregnant at the time of Calamity innocently enough came from me and my cousins analyzing the game together and actually making fun of the sheer waistline difference between the white Prayer/Priestess Dress and her pre-Calamity armor. And don't you know that would make people boil if I tried to present that as canon 😂

I fully believe Terrako is 10/10 intended and written to be Zelda and Link's "son." But I wouldn't use any fanon discourse to try and prove that. I don't think I need to with the game in hand. There can be a bit of "stretch" I think that ZeLink fans pull in determining how early in the game Terrako "decides" Link's his dad (I don't believe this happened in the cutscene where Link defends Zelda from the Yiga and Terrako beeps a ton and kind of bites at his ankles, which is where I've seen a lot of ZeLink-ers say it happens). But to me there's absolutely no doubt that Nintendo and Koei intended for Terrako to be their child. And some fans' decisions to try and define One Instance™️ that Zelda/Link/Terrako became one family doesn't detract from the fact that the game heavily appears to be going in that direction. I mean, Zelda is clearly his mom, don't need a degree in Nintendo to figure that one out, which raises the question of why Terrako is almost always following Link around instead of his "mom." I also won't force people to accept that if they don't want to, as long as they at least acknowledge what the canon is actually saying and not what their fanon desires. Points for the newbie fans/offline fans for that one because they're not in this discourse mud all the live long day! (I also watched the Restoring Terrako cutscene again to make sure I'm not accidentally lying, and when Terrako wakes back up and recognizes Zelda, Link does that nod + very slight smile thing that he does to Zelda when Calamity is defeated. He nods a lot in the game of course, but I think those are the only two times he's nodded and smiled. Don't quote me I didn't rewatch the entire game)

The DLC at times definitely feels like Link and Zelda dealing with their little toddler, haha. That picture he takes of them both at the end OOF.

Honestly, it really feels like Mipha is ignored once the Zora Princess plotline is over. Unless I'm severely miscounting, she has about as many "alone" moments with Daruk as she does with Link. And ain't nobody shipping them in AoC! (as far as I'm aware, I'm sure there's someone)

I feel like if Link was supposed to have any chance of falling in love with Mipha in the BotW storyline/universe at ALL, they would have made that astoundingly clear in Age of Calamity. But they don't. It feels even more like a joke in AoC than it did in BotW/TotK. The DLC slams the lid on those fingers even harder.

In fact, we could sit here for the whole night debating about whether or not any ZeLinkness in TotK was already written/known to Nintendo when this game was made AND whether or not they specifically made this game Heavy on the ZeLink or Not Heavy on the ZeLink simply because of whether or not there would be ZeLink in TotK. Because there was at least some time where there was production overlap between the two games. No clue how much, but there was some.

Actually, despite whether or not I wanted to make Link end up with Zelda/Mipha, I still wouldn't have cast her aside like it did. After the Zora Princess plot when Mipha bonds with Ruta, it starts feeling like her only driving motive is her affections for Link. Which we know from Champion's Ballad, the Zora Princess plotline, AND when Sidon/Riju/Yunobo/Teba fall out of the sky that her love for her brother, father and people equates (I would actually say "exceeds") any Link-related motives or personality points that Mipha had. So I would force the story/game to put Mipha in places where Link is completely out of sight out of mind. Because there are some parts of BotW/AoC where it acts like Link's her only purpose in life. Which is a problem.

If I wanted to make sure the public knew that Link was supposed to love her and not Zelda, I would have made it dang sure it was obvious. And the only thing I really find obvious in AoC is that her affections are played almost like a joke (or at best a subplot where everything but the beginning and end were cut from the game last minute). I can't remember how to unlock the Zora Armor in AoC, what quests you have to do, but I do remember it was a LOT. Like, the fact that you have to do a LOT of mediocre side quests (I think you have to be post-game to unlock it? I cant remember, but it raises more points if you do) to unlock it instead of it being accessed through the main story says something about Nintendo's intentions, and to me that "something" smells like "included for reference/fanservice only". It was actually one of the last clothing items I got simply because there were a lot of hoops to go through to get it. (I mainly wanted to unlock it to read the description, and the description almost sounds like Link is making a joke of it, or if he's actually concerned that he could GET IN TROUBLE for having it which... raises a lot of flags).

I would have made sure Link got that armor during the main story if he was supposed to love Mipha. I would've made sure to include a part with Zelda and Terrako that more or less says "I know you like him, but he's not your dad" if he wasn't supposed to end up with Zelda. However, neither of those things exist. And they would HAVE to exist (or something very similar) to outweigh everything else occurring in that game.

The whole rest of the game smells so heavily of a ZeLink fanfiction, I actually want to laugh. I couldn't have based ZeLink fanfiction so heavily off this game if there was no ZeLink.

What also makes me want to laugh? Every interaction Urbosa and Revali have in that game. HYLIA she seems so done with him.

#age of calamity #hyrule warriors age of calamity #do not tag as ship #but that's just a theory #A GAME THEORY #okay okay i'll stop #I wrote half of this on the computer #and half on my phone #so pardon me that half of it is emphasized by capital letters and half by bold and italics

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toddisawarlock · 2 years

Text

Saw a really bad take about The Last of Us that I'm not gonna link but I'm gonna rant here because sometimes I get really frustrated so buckle in folks I gotta rant.

The take was basically that The Last of Us, episode 3, "Long, Long Time" reinforced an ableist trope about the noble sacrifice of a disabled person through assisted suicide and does harm because of the state of this as a topic across various health care systems. Also please consider this a content warning if my tags didn't cover this for you.

This upset me for a few reasons. It fundamentally ignores the context of the fictional world, the context of the queer relationship, and conflates the real life problems with medically assisted suicide and the failings of support for disabled people with a fictional world.

I'm just gonna start but first, there is no health care here. Yet somehow, Frank and Bill are clearly trading resources for medicine to help Frank get by. To help him manage with this condition. This is not some failure of care within the context of the world.

Frank chooses, after living with this for many years, to make a choice. The point of this is that his condition would kill him but well before it would happen it would be further disabling. He made an active choice within his world. He was not encouraged to do this by anyone.

His choice is not necessarily seen as some noble way to ask Bill to continue on. He is asking because he's tired. And he wants to have a really beautiful day and for this to be over. Which is the point of assisted suicide. And as someone who personally has had to administer morphine to their mother while she died of cancer, it's asking for dignity before getting there. There is an OCEAN between this and the abuses of systems like Canada's MAiD program that is actively encouraging the assisted suicide of disabled people it is failing to support.

Dignity and choice in death is not the same thing.

I'm also noting that this really ignores that these queer people are a symbol. A piece of media doesn't have to be morally perfect to achieve incredible metaphor. In this story, I saw all the hard work that went into a still painful, difficult life, for two queer people who had a chance to love each other.

This didn't glamorize assisted suicide for disabled people. It was a metaphor about the choice to keep going against the odds of your circumstances and how all parts of that are acts of bravery and conviction and deserve support.

And sometimes, with all of those choices, you might inspire one other person to keep going. You might provide them with a single piece of something that helps them keep going when shit is impossible.

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us spoilers #cw suicide

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fictionkinfessions · 1 year

Note

Hey, it's that anon from earlier complaining about the tagging mistakes... I just wanted to apologize for blowing up at you like I did.

I really wasn't thinking about what I was saying, and I've just been going through it recently, so pretty much anything was about to set me off. I know that's no excuse to take it out on you, and I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone. In my head at the time, I was giving valid criticism, but I see that I made a big mistake going about that the way I did. I was a complete and total asshole. I understand that you're only one person running this blog, so of course you won't be able to catch every mistake, and I'm ashamed of my ignorance and the way I acted.

Everyone else, please stop dogpiling me over this. I learned my lesson, I apologized, it's done, it's over with. I get it, I made a huge mistake. It wouldn't be the first time.

Either way, I hope you can forgive me. I'm a little embarrassed that not only did I have the audacity to say all of that stuff, but that it's now just on the internet for the world to see. Not that it's anyone's fault but mine. Thank you for your time, and I'm sorry once again. /gen

I don't know if you'll even see this but I'll try posting it anyways. Sorry it took so long, I wanted to think about what to say since I'd only get one chance.

This accidentally got long so there's a summary at the bottom. I know huge blocks of text can be difficult to parse. And a read more. Tada!

I accept your apology and understand you really did mean well. I know I fuck up tags fairly often and there are ways to mitigate that on my part. Like you suggested, double checking with a search is not impossible of me. Like I mentioned in a reblog of that post, I will make an effort in the future to search names and try to get it right the first time around. You were right to have sent that message. If you noticed and got irritated, I'm sure others have as well. I'm glad you went through the effort of sending a message about it. The point of tags is to ensure people can find their confessions. They can't do that if it's in the wrong place. I would disagree a bit, regarding memorizing sources and names. Yes I can recognize most names and sources, both stated and through confession context. I have done this long enough that it's usually accurate. But there are countless sources, names, and AU / fan created sources. I don't believe it's possible to memorize all of them. I think your suggestion of double checking with a search is reasonable and I will do so in the future. You seem very kind and compassionate, and I think you could understand where I'm coming from, regarding this.

[side note. You're not wrong about memorizing custom tags. I did have a little text document with custom tags and pre-typed names and sources. But at some point I stopped adding to it when it got overwhelmingly long and out of date when people stopped using their custom tags. Johnny Americanidiot, where you go? It also had reminders for what sources needed blacklist tagss. That didn't help the huge swathes of text that my eyes kept skipping over.... Anyways]

I am sorry you got dogpiled. I can understand where they are coming from, and I think they meant well too. I am glad to see people defending me. But I think at some point it went from blunt correction to outright bullying. Considering we get shit on by everyone who thinks kin people eat real gemstones because they're dragonkin, it really sucks to do that to each other. I hope we can all keep that in mind, going forward from here.

I will admit, and I don't mean this in a guilt trip way, that yeah that message did make me step back for a few days. I was more hurt over the tone than the correction. It made me wonder if doing this for so long made people take this blog for granted. You know what I mean? I've been here since 2016, on the first fictionkinfessions blog. Hell, I was a mod on the first @/kinfessions blog for a short while. I do this for fun, as far as typing tags and posting things others sent in can be considered fun. I always thought that if it was more trouble than it's worth, I'd just quit. Someone else can handle it until they felt it was time to pass it on. I don't think I've reached that point yet. I still like reading what people have to say and seeing people reach out, make connections through ask responses or reblogs or replies. It's endearing that they have a chance to do so.

[Not to get philosophical, but has anyone considered how lucky we are to exist simultaneously in this time and place? We get to live together and connect to each other, millions of miles apart. I think that's neat. Otherwise we'd all be that one Oddball in the Village who says they were once King Arthur /joking]

Anyways. I'm ok now. There was hurt and now it's gone. We're ok.

I promise I do take it seriously and make the effort. If I tag incorrectly or fail to tag a content warning, it's never on purpose. [excluding, you know, silly tags like 'ohio cw' or 'capitalism cw'. I think that's clearly intended as humorous and not sincere trigger warnings.]

The confessions are tagged, I don't delete confessions I personally don't like, the queue is always running, the followers list cleaned of spam bots, the activity page monitored for the very rare peer abuse [bullying], ask responses and such non-confessions usually get queued up asap, etc. Sometimes I think other people might be better suited for this just because they may not had adhd rearing its head. [Also not a guilt trip, I don't talk about my medical history much and I don't expect anyone to remember this tidbit. Also not an excuse, just a explanation as to why my memory does not work sometimes. Zest la vee.]

I don't know how to end this. Here is the summary.

In Summary

I accept your apology. Thank you for coming back and talking this out. I am sorry you were dogpiled and don't entirely agree with the amount of negative attention. I think it went past a reasonable limit of common courtesy at some point. I understand where you were coming from and I agree with what you said. I was hurt by your tone but I'm not any more. I will make the effort to double check names and sources. I hope whatever you were / are going through passes quickly. We'll be ok one day! I must believe!

Connie / mod party cat!

#fictionkinfessions #mod response #not confessions #mod party cat!

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imreallyloveleee · 2 years

Text

I posted 638 times in 2022

140 posts created (22%)

498 posts reblogged (78%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@stillhidden

@sullypants

@imreallyloveleee

@stonerbughead

@satelliteinasupernova

I tagged 630 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#bughead - 227 posts

#fic rec - 61 posts

#anon - 43 posts

#riverdale spoilers - 38 posts

#fanart - 34 posts

#fic - 32 posts

#euphoria - 30 posts

#anti b*rchie - 20 posts

#rd negativity - 20 posts

#betty cooper - 16 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#anti-mask people in dc were like 'it's a competitive disadvantage because dc people who want to dine out will drive to va for dinner instead

My Top Posts in 2022:

I can understand that they wanted to "explore" ba this season, and I can even understand that they wrote themselves into a corner and went "fuck it, 50s high school reset it is." (It's inexcusable for a bunch of people who are doing this professionally, but it's not like this hasn't happened before.)

What I CANNOT for the life of me comprehend is why they wrote ba as a series of red flags? Like, the most consistent thread in that relationship all season was them repeatedly bumping up against the fact that they explicitly didn't want the same things in life, and then ignoring those signs that the relationship isn't going to work, instead of making any attempt to resolve the differences. Then Archie proposes after the anvil that is his mother saying "yeah we got divorced bc we didn't want the same things"? And Betty (rightly) tells him he's not in the right head space, and then turns around and changes her mind 5 minutes later because...she didn't want a promotion?

WHAT?

Like they could have easily just written a ba relationship that...worked. instead they chose to lobotomize Betty and repeatedly emphasize the fact that they're incompatible. To what fucking end!?

ETA: i just want to clarify a little bit that i’m not questioning why they flattened out Betty’s character to make the ship happen. i’m questioning why they made explicit - as in, made the characters themselves state out loud! - the very fundamental cracks in the relationship only to continue forcing it to progress without ever addressing how the two of them might bridge those gaps.

95 notes - Posted August 2, 2022

come into the water, chapter 2

Betty Cooper – Betty Cooper, with blonde hair and green eyes and straight As and gold earrings and lacy collars and vanilla milkshakes and straight white teeth and lips that he now knows are warm, smooth, unbearably soft –

Betty Cooper is his soulmate.

His heart jumps at the thought, one single, uncontrolled pulse of joy. Just as quickly, it sinks into the pit of his stomach. No, he corrects himself, shivering as the water flows down his back. Betty Cooper shares his mark. Which is not the same thing.

read it on ao3. (or start from the beginning.)

102 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

it makes me sad that this version of betty doesn't get to be with someone who *likes* her as a person

107 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

17 yr old Jughead nervously squeezing Betty’s hand, stumbling over his words - “isn’t this what...people like us, who have gone through what we’ve gone through...do?” - walking backwards with a goofy grin on his face because he can’t stop looking at her = cute

25 yr old Archie telling Betty with the deadest eyes you’ve ever seen - “...I’m not seeing anyone else...” - after weeks of casual fucking and occasionally touching one another’s knee in public = the opposite of cute

133 notes - Posted April 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

i just got sad knowing i will never be a fan of anything that's as fun to viciously mock as riverdale is ever again

136 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#lol kinda depressing

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pudding-parade · 2 years

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get to know me - useless info edition

I was tagged by @echoweaver (so blame her), so here we go:

What do you have under your bed? Big, flat Rubbermaid storage containers. We use them to store out-of-season clothing and computer parts and Christmas wrapping paper and all sorts of things. That way, the stuff is out of the way but still easily accessible when we need it.

Also, dust bunnies.

Favorite candy? SALMIAKKI!!!! (You Finns will understand. LOL ) I'm actually not a huge fan of sweet, so the tangy saltiness of salmiakki appeals to me, even though I'm not all that big on black licorice. The combination of the licorice with the ammonia salt, though, really works for me. A few Finns recommended that I try it when I went on a Nordic cruise with a stop in Helsinki a few years back, so I did and fell and love, and now I order a supply online a couple times a year, since I've never found it for sale in a store here in the US.

Alternatively, I like York Peppermint Patties. Or, if I have a cough, root beer barrel hard candies to suck on.

Describe your favorite shirt: One just like this one, which my daughter bought me for my birthday a few years back because she knows me too well:

I love wearing it when in the redder/more conspiracy-theory-prone areas of my state. (Remember: My Congressional representative is…Lauren Boebert. My county didn't vote for her since we're one of the bluest counties in the country, but we are unfortunately surrounded by deep-red counties with larger populations, and Boebert is a good representation of those people. It's encouraging that she only barely held on to her seat, at least. *sigh* )

The last thing you drew/doodled was: Because my drawing talent is nil, I only ever doodle music. As in, I draw a staff and then doodle notes on it, often but not always with faces in the note heads. The funny thing is that sometimes the doodles become actual compositions. Are you completely sober rn? Right now? Yes. However, I also have some cannabis brownies in the oven right now, so no promises for later. What's the one thing that annoys you more than anything? Willful ignorance. Being ignorant in general is entirely forgivable, as we are all ignorant of many things. However, when a person refuses to learn because they know that the facts will conflict with what they want to believe, then I will have a problem with them. (See t-shirt above. :) ) Have you ever gotten your tongue stuck to a cold pole during winter? Nope! Though I could give you a long list of much dumber things I've done over the years. If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be? I could do with some ocean right about now. So, Aruba. What was the single last word you spoke? "It!" Which was part of "Stop it!" Which was yelled at a dog going nuts because he noticed a deer outside. Mind you, there are ALWAYS deer outside, so you'd think after four years of living in this house he'd get it through his thick head that he doesn't have to freak out over them, but…nope. Anyone who tells you that dogs are smart is lying. At least when it comes to this dog. I mean, I love him, but "smart" is not a descriptor I'd use for him.

I shall tag: @papermint-airplane, @solori, and @rollo-rolls

As always, feel free to ignore for whatever reason. :)

#memes memes glorious memes

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sansxfuckyou · 2 years

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Thanks, I guess

Summary: You've been stuck underwater for the last month due to a shipwreck, in that month someone saved you and has been protecting you, you dislike it.

Warnings: Blood, near death, she's not yandere she just doesn't want anyone getting hurt, check tags for further warnings.

Authors Note: Fourth fic, also, if you saw my Ao3 and found the erikar one isn't on the every ship challenge its because I have a different rendition of that pairing for the challenge, once again, I take reblogs a form of currency over likes.

You wish you hadn't been shipwrecked.

you wish you hadn't slipped under the waves.

You wish you weren't being pampered every second.

You wish gills hadn't been cut into you.

But all of those things have happened and are happening as you think.

The Fuchsia blood herself spend most of her time doing what you assume she normally does, but refuses to let you out of her sight. You could get hurt you know, you would absolutely be fine out there, it would take a while to learn how to swim, but you would be fine. It's acceptable being taken care of, but she won't let you train, she won't let you even risk tearing open your skin, as it wouldn't heal properly underwater.

You ignored her warnings about being careful, you went to grab a cup, underestimating how gravity works underwater. It slipped from your grasp and shattered as it hit the edge of the counter, you panicked and tried to clean up the shards. One of them cut open your hands and Indigo started to cloud up the water, and it the salt stung in your wound, it had you immobilized. She found you, she helped your and she berated you for not being careful, and that the wound wouldn't heal down here for months.

You were getting sick of being underwater, sure it was great for your hair and disinfected your broken horn, but it was boring.

So here you were, perched on the ledge of the window on the highest spire in her tower, ready to leap. The water far enough down was pitch black in an infinite abyss, but that didn't fully scare you. You leapt from the edge and started treading water, sinking slowly but making enough distance that you didn't fall into one of the abyssal pits.

And you fucking booked it, it was slow, and the sand was slimy under your feet and sticking to you, but you were running. The entire ocean was dark, and it was near silent, your gills fluttering rapidly to filter in enough water and oxygen alike. You didn't even hear the gun being fired, you only felt it tear through your skin, it was laced in something that fucking hurt.

You released a throat tearing scream of agony, gripping your upper arm as Indigo clouded the water, someone came walking over. It was another Troll, square glasses, scarf, rifle, streak of Violet hair, an asshole for sure. He scoffed at you before leaving you to die out there in the darkness all alone, everything hurt so much.

Eyes fluttered shut.

Darkness.

Eyes fluttered open.

Brightness.

Ah fuck.

Feferi stands hovering above you, looking very, very concerned about you, she moves away after you give a groan. There's gauze on your arm, its drenched in Indigo and your wound is absolutely still open as is the one on your hand, now in fresh gauze. You sit up and find Feferi holding a water bottle, offering it to you, you snatch it away from her, agitated.

"I told you naut to head out there, I was reely scared for you," Feferi said, sounding a little bit agitated at how you acted out.

"I don't like it down here, very, very bland and not immaculate at all, like many theorize the ocean is," you responded with, crossing your arms just a little bit, Feferi frowned.

"I suppose you have good reason for naut liking it down here, but it's naut that eelsy to leave," Feferi said, taking a seat beside you, you edged away from her, she had you trapped down here, and you couldn't leave because of her, "my Lusus would naut be pleased if you left, they quite like you."

"Well, will you help me out of this ocean anyways?" You asked, turning to stare at her, she gave you a shark like grin before speaking, only now did you pay enough attention to see the rows of fangs down her throat.

"Of coralse I will!" Feferi responded with, grinning, her scales glinted and her gills fluttered.

"Lovely, we should start planning then,"

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thenightwindow · 4 years

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Answer 17 questions, tag 17 people

tagged by @haileymorelikestupid :) Thank you!!

Nickname: most people just use my name, nicknames tend not to stick for me because my name doesn’t exactly set you up well for them (that and I’m not a fan of gigi. That’s what you name a pet.)

Zodiac sign: libra

Height: 5′9″ / 175 cm

Hogwarts house: so ravenclaw it hurts

Last thing i googled: pfffft “convert in to cm” for the above question

Song stuck in my head: One extremely specific part of There’s Still A Light in the House by Valley

Following: 242

Followers: 154

Amount of sleep: I shoot for about 8, but that all depends on how much random stuff I’m doing before bed and how much I oversleep in the morning

Lucky number: 3, 7, 19, and 27

Dream job: Realistically? A reference specialist with a special collection plus a little bit of time to write during off hours. If money was no object? A hermit in a little cottage somewhere in the mountains that’s not too far from a city with restaurants and grocery stores, with conveniently fast wifi and all the time in the world to write and read and sew and knit

Wearing: a turtleneck, an oversize patterned cardigan, and Ninja Turtles pj pants. Fashion.

Favorite song: I can never decide on things like this because I’m an exceptionally indecisive person. The current most played song on my spotify on repeat playlist is Black Swan by BTS, so clearly I’ve been Going Through It lately

Instruments: I was the world’s worst trombonist for a hot second in middle school, a very lazy pianist in high school, and a fairly dedicated mezzo soprano all the way through

Random fact: I own SO MANY socks. I could probably wear one pair a day for an entire years without repeating any. And these aren’t boring, one color socks, either. I own a pair of kitty pirate socks, kangaroo astronauts, multiple garden gnome socks, holiday socks, many floral socks, argyle socks, knee highs, thigh highs...I have Very Many.

Aesthetics: ooh, boy, I love cottagecore, any aesthetic that includes pictures of old libraries, old photography, and books, and whatever aesthetic includes overgrown cemeteries. I’m too scatterbrained to keep track of the names of these kinds of things, unfortunately

Tags: I never know who to tag whoops, so these are going to be a bit random @yonderlight , @shiningautumn-oceancrashing @ponggpalace, @bubbise, @steamclouds, @novabyers, @nicoleisntcool, @potsanddaisies, @let-me-kiss-you-baby, @clouds-in-my-eyes, @candycla, @topaziumm, @elamae56, @ashjudephoenix, @ey-melody, @good-night-space-kid, and anyone else who’d like to share :))

#gia speaks!#user haileymorelikestupid #no pressure to do this!#i went through my notes for tags because I didn't want to ignore anyone??#please tag me even if i didn't tag you! i love reading these

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yanbub · 3 years

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small spoon or big spoon?

various x gn!reader

hcs, sfw, fluff (?), no cws, 1k words

no idea if i show up in tags properly so reblogs r appreciated

note: "oh my god is that yan actually writing for kazuha and scaramouche ?!" yes it is but ONLY for this goddamn post. the wifi went out for 10 minutes at 1am so i decided to start this mfing draft. unedited as usual aye, if anyone did this yet pls tell me since i didnt rlly see anyone doing this haha maybe im not looking at tags right

small spoons !

xiao, scaramouche, and venti

venti is cheeky, mischievous even. you never know where he gets the endless amount of energy he has on a daily basis - a smile here, a smile there, he smiles all the time. which made you wonder: has or does the ever so popular bard of mondstadt have times where he breaks? well, you didn’t know if you actually have an answer to that so we might as well never know. even though you never expected to find out the reason for that soon. everyone gets tired in the end - including venti. give him a comforting hug during those times and the pace of the wind will surely be better.

xiao has been through a lot, he never really considered giving himself even the smallest bit of happiness. he thought he didn’t deserve it, stating that it serves as his self punishment for letting his old friends die all those years ago. but when he felt you hug him, xiao was comforted. he slowly became desperate for the familiar feeling of warmth that he felt from you. the second you pulled away from the sudden hug you gave him, he was hesitant. he wanted to feel it again but is he allowed too? does it make you uncomfortable if he leans in for another hug? his thoughts were a mess. and you noticed it, you noticed his hesitancy and gave him another hug - a longer one at that. he didn’t know why but xiao felt safe after years of despair.

scaramouche seemed like a big spoon at first but in truth he's the one who loves to be cuddled. not many individuals favor scaramouche, most dislike him due to his attitude - but for some reason, you didn't. you never cared about others opinions. despite working in the fatui, scaramouche had always thought that you were too… bright for the fatui. under the ruling of the beloved tsaritsa, the fatui is dark and cold. yet you're bright and warm, the differences are too big to ignore. but it doesn't matter - even though scaramouche is disliked by his co-workers in the fatui, he knows that you're someone who'll believe that there's honestly more to him.

big spoons !

zhongli, kaeya, and dainsleif

zhongli likes to hug you especially when you're tired (and it comes with a free back massage so who’s gonna back down on that?). he tries his best to make you happy - to enjoy yourself with him. he adapted to many eras of humanity so there’s still some parts he’s kinda rusty in. who knows how long has it been ever since he had a lover, did he even had a lover back then though? it doesn’t really matter. zhongli likes being the big spoon in your relationship and that’s that.

for some random reason, kaeya really likes to drown you in hugs. no matter where the fuck yall are, you get all sorts of hugs. sidehugs if you’re walking in public, back hugs if you’re in your own quarters and many more. you never really thought of why kaeya likes hugs so much. maybe it’s because it feels nice? (or maybe it’s because he has never gotten a proper hug before) - you didn’t really know. not that you minded though, kaeya’s past is something that he isn’t that fond of talking about.

dainsleif isn’t that used to hugs (or cuddling in any sense) so he was rather stiff about it at first. but once dainsleif got used to it, he prefers to be the one who’s hugging you from behind with his arms wrapped around your waist. he feels consoled by it, who knows what runs on his mind at all times every day? everything and everyone has their boundaries that they cannot seem to reach - some try to reach past it with some being successful while some would fail. it’s just how life is, an endless cycle. but in that cycle, dainsleif doesn’t mind for your precious moment to repeat.

in-between !

diluc, childe, albedo and kazuha

similar to dainsleif, diluc was also a bit stiff at first. but whenever diluc is exhausted, he tends to be the small spoon for you but there’s times when he’s also the big spoon. it’s either to be held or to hold for him, and you couldn’t really guess if he wants to be the one who’s cuddled up. that’s okay though - as long as diluc is comfortable, you don’t necessarily mind.

childe is too in-between because he cuddles his siblings if they ask him and he likes to get cuddled by you. it reminds him of the nostalgic feeling of warmth of being held by someone. he wants to feel the exact same warmth once again to the point he’s drunk from it but that doesn’t mean he’s completely a small spoon - he likes being the big spoon at times too. it’s a mix, really. once you see that small pout on his lips, it’s best to assume he wants to be the small spoon. but when he greets you arms wide open, prepare to be the small spoon instead.

albedo is sometimes complicated to understand. you never know if he wants to be cuddled or what - but in the end you cuddle him anyways. he deserves it, after spending hours of working on lab results, experiments and other studies? who wouldn’t get exhausted by all of it. however, albedo isn’t always the small spoon. even though he’s so tired from all the work he’s done, there are times he prefers to hold you instead of being held.

kazuha is usually the big spoon whenever the two of you are together. but if he just recently returned after months of sailing? small spoon all the way! he wants to regain his energy by being with you so cuddling is his best option. because he’ll be able to rest and spend time with you - nothing too complex to understand, no? whenever kazuha is the big spoon though, he won’t let go of you easily if you try to get up. you’re practically stuck but that’s okay.

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imgoingtofreakoutnow · 2 years

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Those who are left behind

Summary: Steve finds a connection while helping as a volunteer at Hawkins High

Pairing: Steve Harrington x gn!reader (can be seen as platonic or pre-romantic)

Warnings: mentions of death and mourning

Words: 1k

A/N: Hey, I hope you like this! I had fun writing it so yeah... sorry if it's a bit sad tho :D

Tags: @hellotvshowtrash @yn-ymn-yln @auroracalisto

Steve had been folding clothes for what it felt like forever. The moment he finished one pile, another appeared in a neverending cycle. He was more than surprised by how many clothes people could spare the moment disaster happened.

At some point, as he folded an oversized shirt or some worn jeans, his mind wandered off, haunting him with visions of everything that had happened in the last few days.

He wished he could help more, that he could do something more than folding clothes and occasionaly sewing holes in socks. He wanted to go back in time to stop all that destruction and pain, fix everything that went wrong...

And save those who got hurt, he thought, closing his fists around the fabric of a shirt.

"Hey, you alright?"

A voice coming from the side made Steve turn around toward Y/N. They started helping in the "clothes and toys" section the previous day, around the same time he did, but Steve knew them long before that day.

Steve used to sit behind them in biology class and, when he wasn't talking behind the teacher's back, he looked in a weird, bored awe at how neatly and closely they took notes. However, they had never spoken to each other before this.

"Not really, no" Steve scoffed, quickly folding the shirt as he tried to iron the creases that had appeared on it.

Y/N nodded, going back to sorting the different clothes by size and age. Then, eyeing carefully Steve, they asked softly: "Have you lost someone in the earthquake?"

"It wasn't-" Steve stopped as those words left his mouth. Of course they didn't know what really happened. They didn't know Hawkins – if not the entire world – was about to change.

No one did.

Except him and a bunch of highschool kids.

"Yes. Yes, I... I did." He nodded slowly, his eyes stuck on the printed logo of the shirt he had just put to the side. "We did."

"We?"

"My friends and I. We... we lost a friend," he murmured. "A good friend."

"I'm sorry for your loss." They paused for a good minute. "I know how hard it is to lose someone."

Steve glanced at Y/N. "Did you lose someone as well?"

"Not yesterday, no." They shook their head, fidgeting with a ring on their middle finger. "I lost my grandma, five years ago. And I know it's not the same: your wound is still new, mine had a while more to heal; but sometimes my heart aches because I can't run to her and tell her what good or bad happened to me during the day."

For a moment they stopped moving, clenching their hands to their chest, breathing slowly in and out.

"Sometimes I just wish I could hug her one last time, tell her how much I love her and just... you know... exist there with her, for a little while longer."

Y/N raised their eyes from their hands and found Steve staring at them, eyes wide and speechless. They quickly lowered them, passing a hand through their hair.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel worse with my words..."

"It's okay." Steve cut them off with a joyless smile. "I understand all too well what you're saying."

Silence fell again and the two went back to their jobs, a synchronised and perfectly working machine made up by two broken souls.

Then Y/N spoke again.

"You don't have to answer me but... how did they die?"

Steve considered ignoring the question. He hadn't really talked about it with anyone else outside the group and he wasn't sure what to say or how to say it.

But the need to tell someone else, someone who could understand, was stronger than his doubts.

"He died saving us, that fucking idiot..." He scoffed, shaking his head. "As if him dying a hero would make his loss any easier..."

He took a deep breath and he felt his throat burn with the sensation that anticipates tears.

"Does it ever get better? The weight... does it ever ease?"

He knew how he sounded: desperate, like a beggar or a dying man begging for Death to either take him or let him be.

He expected pity but there was none in Y/N's eyes. Just recognition. They understood.

"It needs time. A lot of time. And just as much patience. But it does. It gets to a point where the pain of losing them and the joy for having known them mix, and thinking about them doesn't feel so..."

"Heavy?"

Y/N nodded. "There will still be bad times though, and their absence will feel like drowning in a cup of water... and no matter how much time passes, it still hits like a fucking truck."

"Wow," Steve scoffed again, this time with more light in his eyes. "Is this supposed to make me feel hopeful or scared for my life?"

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry..." Y/N covered their face with a teddy bear they were putting away. "I didn't mean to sound so pessimistic..."

"You didn't." Steve laughed softly. It had been a while and that sound felt weird on his lips, however it fit just as it used to. "You were just realistic. And I was trying to be funny and deflect my grief." He shook his shoulders. "Didn't work that well..."

Y/N nodded, a small smile on their lips. "At least you folded that shirt like a pro."

Another scoff as Steve passed them the shirt. "Thanks? After all, this could be my vocation."

Y/N raised their eyebrow. "What?"

"Being a housewife."

They unexpectedly broke out into laughter, leaving Steve slightly taken aback. That sound was strangely soothing and warm to his ears.

"Yeah" Y/N nodded, "I can totally see you wearing an apron!"

It was Steve's turn to laugh now and when they got back to their respective jobs, he knew something had switched. In him and between them, and despite the pain still there, he couldn't help but smile at the new-found connection.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things s4 #st4

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shintin · 2 years

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Her: A Memoir Chapter 4 (Treasure)

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

— Hey, Hi. How are you doing? I'm not sure who you are or where you live, but I didn't have anyone to tell my story to. You mind if I write it down for you? You have time to hear it?

Everything started from the day he became my best friend. My one and only. We grew up without a mother, father, and family except each other. We ate together, played together, and laughed together. On the cold nights of the orphanage, he was the one who lent me his blanket, and I was the one who kissed his wounds after every fight. His blue eyes smiled at me for 17 years, and my heart carried his love no question asked.

Life was no fairytale, but none of it mattered. I had him, and he had me. But it didn't last forever.

I could never forget that cold autumn afternoon. I stood in the crowded corridor of that hospital and cried over his test results. He had cancer, and my only thought was how to prevent death by doing us part.

You know, I was in love with him, and I was willing to do whatever it takes to keep that damn smile on his lips, even if I wasn't going to be able to see it anymore.

I have no regrets about the unforgiving things I did out of love.

I love him, and I had and held him, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, but … doesn't matter anymore.

Be happy with her, my Satoru.

Genre: heavy angst, cancer, modern au, (+18).

Tags/Warnings: Graphic depiction of rape (spoiler: don't worry), heavy angst.

Author Note: She was only 16 years old when it happened.

Song Recommendation: Sara Bareilles - She Used To Be Mine

Chapter Index -> Next chapter

Year: 2014

The school pool was located across the courtyard in a newly constructed hangar with an elevated roof. The floor was covered with beautiful blue tiles that enhanced the color of the water. Ocean blue, Like his eyes. Something I really liked about the place.

My best days were when I ran across the soccer field and made my way into swimming class. I was a good swimmer with a promising future. It felt good to be good at something, intoxicating. But the bug in the creation system and the idle gods above the skies caught me off guard. They never ask your opinion when they write about your destiny. They say we have "the right" to change our own fate. I say fuck them all. Orphans don't have such luxury. Otherwise, I would never have wanted that doom of deep shit for myself.

"Girls, class is over! Don't leave your stuff in the pool! See you all on Monday and enjoy the weekend!" Throwing her towel over her shoulder, the coach waved to the students and walked to the locker room with a smile. As she left, the students took turns pulling themselves out of the pool, and the water splatters echoed in the ample enclosed space.

Y/N came out of the water in the farthest corner and sat on the poolside. The water slowly flowed out of her hair on her shoulders and found itself between her breasts, now wholly blossomed. Her delicate fingers crawled through her wet hair and pushed it back. Her eyes were closed, and under the sunlight that crept in from the window corner, her rosy lips were more defined on her pale face, granting her more innocence than the angels of the seven heavens.

Hearing loud laughter, she opened her eyes and, without looking at the girls gathered on the other side of the pool, started doing her post-swim practices, stretching her arms to massaging her muscles for good measure of time. Not because she was self-absorbed or a selfish bitch; no, she just didn't like Mean Girls movie's reincarnation company. To be honest, they didn't like her much either. Kind of heart speaks to a heart condition.

After ensuring that her right groin wouldn't hurt at night, Y/N stood up and headed towards the locker room, still ignoring the girls. She opened her locker, and after grabbing the towel, her hands quickly went into her backpack and picked up her phone. A smile set upon her face as soon as her eyes fell on the screen, on her best friend's name, his nickname.

Windex: I'll be about half an hour late. The coach wants to give us a silly pep talk :(

Windex: I hate basketball!!!

Windex: I'd rather take a swim class with you. Peeping girls with you, while they are in their bathing suits could be our special bonding ritual :( :( :(

Windex: I have to go! Make sure you dry your hair. I don't want to catch a cold again.

Windex: I wish you were here, Y/N.

Her eyes read the last message over and over again, until each letter was forever engraved in the hypothalamus of her brain, where no one could reach it, no one could take it from her— her treasures.

I didn't have a boyfriend. I mean, when your parents drop you off at the orphanage door from day one, you grow up with the idea that you're not lovable. Let's not forget the trust issues. (Also, for the record, I was sure I'm not gay somehow. Since I preferred to look at basketball players' legs and buttocks than cheerleaders' asses.)

It seems that in the midst of Big Bang and all the other bullshit, a glitch happened, because Satoru broke my curse and became the first person to gain my trust with his warm friendship. But unfortunately, as someone who had been deprived of love her whole life, I added extra meanings to his actions, to his words… I told myself that if I kept these sweet dreams to myself, they wouldn't hurt anyone. How was a high school girl supposed to know that it would bite her own ass in the end?

Y/N's smile got more prominent, and the butterflies started floating in her stomach as her fingers started typing.

Smiley: You're a walking nut, Satoru!

Smiley: Meet you out front at the basketball court.

Smiley: Please, just take a shower! You stink after matches!

After pushing the send button, she lazily sat on the bench and started scrolling through her social media accounts to kill time.

It is a fact that no matter how much a person tries to be invisible, in the end, their presence will become a thorn in the eye of another. Y/N was no exception when it was a matter of bad luck.

"She is like the gum beneath Satoru's shoe!"

Y/N's eyes widened, but they kept staring at the phone. Were they talking about her?

"I can't even tell what he sees in her! Does he have no eyes? How he can't see a good-looking girl like me!"

She knew the owner of the voice, the president of the Mean Girls community.

"That's got to be an orphan thing. Otherwise, there's no reason for a basketball player like him to be friends with a normal girl like her!"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. All she had to do was count back 10 to 1, and everything would be sorted out. Otherwise, she would count backward from 15, 20, 25, 30, and even 100.

She sighed.

Ten

She had well learned these rituals of suppressing anger by practice and repetition, for this was not the first time she had been exposed to such words.

Nine

Satoru becoming one of the school's popular basketball players was the starting point of the girls' backbites.

Eight

Puberty was kind to him, turning him from a white-haired weirdo into a prince fucking charming who set these hot to trot girls' loins on fire.

Seven

She couldn't care less about them.

Six

Where were they when no one wanted to eat with him at the same table?

Five

Were they around when that little boy jolted awake drenched in sweats?

Four

Did they know how to whisper "I'm here, all is well, Satoru" in his ear to make his nightmares disappear?

Three

No. They didn't, but she did.

Two

Nine years wasn't a short time for her to learn about all his curves and sharp edges, was it?

One

She shook her head, slowly her fist parted, and her fingers released.

You probably feel like you know me now and have a sense of who I am and my background. But you don't know, not exactly.

It's hard to tell. Most days, I don't recognize myself. These shoes, this dress, this house, and the pictures on the walls have taken more than I gave them.

I'm no longer like I used to be. Although, indeed, I was never a sweet attention center. I still remember the girl who was imperfect, but she tried. She was good, but she lied. She was brutal with herself. She got broken and didn't ask for help. She was messy, but she was kind. She was lonely most of the time. She was reckless, just enough for her love. She was hurt, but she learned how to toughen up when she was bruised. She was all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie, but she is gone now.

Life just slipped through a back door, carved out me, and turned me into something I never asked for. Honestly, I would give it all back for a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two for the girl that I knew.

You look like you're up for a question. Wait a bit more. I'll answer them and bet you're going to hate me.

Y/N got up, picked up her towel, knocked on her locker door, and headed for the shower. She rushed to one of the cabins, quickly switched on the tap, and let the water caress her gently like a soothing cascade. She rested her head on the cold tiles and hugged her bare body under the warm summer rain. Feeling sharp drops of water on her shoulder, she asked herself, was Satoru worth all the trouble? She closed her eyes. The answer was obvious. It had always been obvious.

No matter what, she would choose him. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, she would find him and choose him. Why? The answer was hidden in an old memory.

It was the memory of a spring day, with mild weather, where we were lying together under the oak tree of the orphanage. No words were spoken besides those from the kids around. I was happy. Content. I felt as though life couldn't possibly get any better than this moment. The leaves of the old tree shifted with the wind, and the sun found its way to my face throughout them, causing me to shut my eyes and turn towards him promptly.

It struck me then how much I loved him by my side. His hands were folded under his head, his blue eyes unwavering under the rays of the morning sun. At that moment, a surety rose in my heart, lodged in my throat.

'I'll never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me.'

If I had words to say such a thing, I would have. But none seemed big enough for it, to hold that swelling truth.

As if he had heard me, he reached for my hand. I didn't need to look. His fingers were etched into my memory, slender and petal-veined, solid, and never wrong.

"Smiley," he said. He was always better with words than me.

How cruel it was that some things were only wished for, not possessed.

She turned off the water, wrapped her towel around her, and stepped out of the shower, only to find out nobody was in the pool. Better. She wasn't very fond of seeing those assholes again.

She made her way to the dressing room, humming a song under her breath. Untying the towel, she began to put on her underwear and bra, still singing and tapping her foot on the floor with the rhythm. She grabbed a plain white t-shirt from her bag and slipped it over her head. The damp ends of her hair were now wetting the t-shirt's collar. She reached out for her pants, backpack, and jacket when the sound of the closing door startled her.

"Who is there?" She asked, but no answer came from the other side. As her eyes looked for the person who had entered, her trembling fingers unconsciously grasped the locker's edge. She shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. A feeling of dread crept up from the pit of her stomach. She could hear the heavy thud of boots on the concrete floor, but the row of lockers prevented the person from being seen. She tried to convince herself nothing terrible would happen as she felt her heartbeat race.

The steps got closer and closer until she saw the person standing in front of her. The sudden shock made her tense her muscles. Her stomach churned over, and she felt sick for this brief moment.

She had already heard of the rich asshole and his assaults and intimidations, but she had never witnessed them closely. After all, she wasn't one of those chicks who turned heads or got sidewalks glace. It was a relief for her to keep herself to herself. But this moron, with his stupid hairstyle, didn't look like someone who would respect her decisions. Suddenly, she was hit by the fact that no one was around, and with this realization fear seemed to rise behind her eyes, but she pushed it back. At least for the time being. Her hands tried to cover her bare thighs with her jeans, though it seemed impossible. "You're not allowed to be here, Mahito!" Her voice was firm, and she thought she controlled the tremors well.

But the blue-haired boy, with a nauseating grin, didn't seem to mind her words at all. His eyes were fixed upon her limb, and he was getting closer, step by step. Slowly. "Don't be shy, little fish." His tongue dampened his lips. His attitude was strange; he seemed calm and not bothered.

Terror washed over her, raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck. She took two small steps backward, only her back to hit the cold metallic surface behind her. If her heart wouldn't stop raging against her ribcage, she feared it would give her away since it was so loud in her ears. Sweat poured down her body as she stayed still as possible. "Fuck off, idiot," she yelled with a trembling voice. She clenched her fists so hard that her nails cut into her skin. "Get out, now!" She pointed to the door with a frown.

Mahito approached with a snide smile on his lips, as his hand curled around Y/N's forefinger, only to bring it close to his mouth and lick it. The color quickly drained from her face. His touch filled her whole being with nausea. She tried to push him back and shout for help, but he was faster. His hand quickly covered her mouth before a sound could come out and pressed her body to the lockers. Her things fell to the floor, as his hand grabbed her wrist. "Don't be a mood killer; I know you want it!" He brought his face closer to hers. His deep breaths hit her cheek. Fear became a tangible and living force that crept over her like a hungry beast, immobilizing her; her brain, holding her captive. She could no longer control her hands; they trembled in an odd rhythm. She wanted to run, but he didn't allow her to move.

He pressed his body against Y/N's, and she could feel his hard arousal grinding against her groin. Her breath quickened. Her heart was throbbing in her ears, loud and irregular, but she could barely hear it, for her mind was clouded with fear. She fought to free herself, but his grip tightened. The bulge in his pants was growing, and her brain was getting more bewildered. Was she on the verge of a panic attack? No, no, she couldn't allow it. 'Not now. Not yet. Don't cry.' She had to do something before blacking out.

"I always wanted to taste you. You must be good. That's why Satoru still keeps you by his side, isn't it?"

She shook her head, her eyes wide open. If she could, she would have shouted that nothing was as it appeared from the outside, but no sound left her mouth. Her screams were stifled by his hand.

"What a loyal whore! Will he be offended if I play with his doll?" He laughed maniacally as his hand started touching her chest through her t-shirt. He shoved his leg between hers to close the gap between the two bodies. "He needs to learn sharing."

Appalled tears welled up in the corner of her eyes as they pleaded with him to set her free, but this disgusting creature had made his decision long ago. She had to do something. Anything.

There was bitterness in the back of her mouth. His finger was still deep in her throat. The next sound that was heard was Mahito's curses filling the air.

She had bitten his finger, and now she was about to run, to scream for help, but before she could find a chance to breathe, his open palm landed on her cheek, followed by a punch in the stomach.

Her head snapped back and dropped again. There was a warm wet feeling on her face, followed by a copper taste in her mouth. A splitting pain erupted through her head. She wanted to throw up as her arms moved to protect the punched area. She was sure that all the air had left her lungs, so she tried to suck it down like there was no tomorrow. As her vision faded, she caught a glimpse of the bastard standing before her. She collapsed to her knees. She couldn't scream anymore. She could only open her mouth to find that even the words had deserted her.

"You want it rough, bitch?" He grabbed her hair, and pulled her head up to kick her in the gut. Again. Never in her entire life had she ever experienced such intense agony, crushing every nerve in her body. An ache covered her veins as if she was in a surreal hell.

Her face stung, and her head felt like it would split in two. She was aware of what he was trying to do, but she wasn't about to give up. She wouldn't faint. She hoped that someone eventually would come to lock the room, that someone would help her.

Before she could even process anything, his hands were already on her neck, squeezing her throat. Small gasps escaped her mouth. "Now beg like a dog for me to fuck you, or are you enjoying the pain?" Her cold, shivering fingers clawed around his wrist, tapping on it, begging him to let her go.

"That's how I want you, like a good girl!" He loosened his grasp and stepped back to adore the mess he had made of her.

She held her stomach and neck, as she coughed and gasped for air. It was as though the pain had crushed her and claimed her body for its own. Not yet. Not yet. She tried to crawl on the floor to get away from him, only to earn a solid kick on her back. Her leaden lungs suppressed any attempts she made to inhale. A muffled cry came out of her mouth, and she tasted her own blood in her mouth.

Her face hit the floor, and the sight of her in pain with wailing eyes made Mahito smile. He loosened the belt of his pants, hovering over her. The beast holding her captive took control of her entire being. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to flee, but she remained frozen. Fear crippled her.

She knew what he was about to do. Her desperation turned into tears running down her cheeks. As though something had walked through her, she felt numb, dizzy. No hand was covering her mouth now, but efforts to say the words were replaced by a struggle to keep the air in her lungs.

Do you know that feeling where you just want to scream "help me" over and over again? Because you don't know what to do anymore and you feel trapped in this black void of mess you can't seem to get out of no matter how hard you try to run.

Please help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me… No god heard my voice until a fallen angel disobeyed Eden's rules and reached out to me.

Mahito's tapered fingers began to explore her sore body. He hunched over and licked her neck. "No… please…" She used her last energy to beg him. But he didn't care, and his hand slowly slipped into her panties. She felt like her heart had been ripped out. A state of misery that she couldn't see the end of the tunnel. A terrible weight fell on her shoulders as she stood still on the floor. It was as though a giant boulder landed on her, and she couldn't straighten out. She couldn't bear the agony any longer, her grief poured out in a flood of gut-wrenching sobs that tore through her chest. In those moments, her life flashed before her eyes—his smile.

But suddenly, a hand seized Mahito by the collar and threw him to the other side. His body hit the lockers with a loud thud. "YOU PRICK!"

She heard a familiar voice.

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TO TOUCH HER?" A scream came, tearing its way out. And then another, and another. His blue eyes were burning with absolute rage. His nostrils flaring, he stood there, fist clenched on the sides. Anger curled hot and unstoppable in his gut, like a blazing inferno that wanted to burn him from the inside out. What would have happened if he hadn't come after Y/N? He could almost feel his blood boiling in his veins. No one was allowed to touch her. She was his sole family. She was the only one who never left him in all these years. He would break the hands of those who would harm her.

His eyes narrowed, and his teeth clenched together. She hadn't seen him angry. Not once. She was so used to his playfulness and childlike demeanor that this side of him scared her.

Mahito straightened himself a little and grinned as he tried to lean his back to the lockers. "Don't get upset. She can still be your sweet pussy cake. I just want a grab. We may even have it together. I'm sure this slut can take us both," he said, all the while trying to stand.

All of it happened so fast, before Mahito could even stand on his feet, Satoru grabbed him by the face and slammed him against the wall. "YOU FUCKED UP, SON OF A BITH! I'm going to kill you!" He had a sinister look, a vein bulging out of his head. Her eyes couldn't stay open any longer. She was so tired.

After what sounded like hours, she felt death kneeling by her side. She even sensed its hands under her head. She opened her eyes slowly, but instead of death, she met Satoru's wounded forehead and blood-stained shirt. Suddenly, there was an aura of grey around him. It was a fog that wouldn't rise or fade. He felt his throat closing up. His bottom lip quivered, and his shoulders dropped in resignation. A single tear rolled down his cheek, as he sat and watched her bruised body. A giant hole found a permanent home in his heart. His life would never be the same. He resembled a curse and the consequences that came with it.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." In his hoarse voice there was no trace of rage anymore. Instead, a sad expression, drowned in anguish, swept his face as the realization of the moment slowly crept in. He bent over and kissed her forehead. "I'm here, Smiley," he whispered as he wrapped his hoodies around her. He pulled her head towards his chest and didn't let go for a long time, stroking her hair with his bloody fingers. Her breath was taken away, not from the squeeze, but from the realization that his arms were finally around her. Somehow he took away her pain. She leaned in, closed her eyes, and after this endless nightmare, she finally felt safe enough to pass out.

What happened afterward? What the hell do you expect? You think they punished that motherfucker? Do you think they kicked him out of school? Huh, we live in a brutal world. We didn't have a family to fill the school principal's pockets with money. So, I was convicted of staying late in the pool, and Satoru was found guilty of assaulting his classmate and sending him to the hospital. We were both expelled and enrolled in another school after Gakuganji scolded us, humiliated us, and punished us.

I was at my lowest. Others took what I couldn't afford to give. Then my health started to go downhill. They broke me, crushed me, shattered me. They stole so much of me.

In those moments, all I felt was anger. I hated the people. I hated being alive. I didn't want to be near anyone. But he dug through my walls and reached me. He hugged me whenever I cried and held my hands tight, like we were tied.

This is something I think I'll never quite understand. How did he constantly love me and put me first? How did he manage to be so selfless, even though I backed him into a corner? How did he always keep me at the top of his priority list even though I probably drove him insane most of the time? How did he not just give up, and walk away when things got tough, again and again?

It seems like an exhausting job, to say the least. But somehow, some way or another, he kept fighting to stay. I realize now just how much of a handful I really was.

It was him that kept my soul alive in the furnace of grief. He burnt with me to carry me forward to the day I forgot more than I could remember. He saved me from myself, from becoming a monster, a person indifferent to suffering and sorrow.

Do you get it now? We would do anything for one another. I would give up whatever I had for him. There was nothing I wouldn't do to see that boy happy. Even though when he smiles, it's not for me. It's for her.

Tag list: @pyschopotatomeme @fi106 @deniseabad1928 @starlightanyaaa

If you want to be on the tag list, please inform me.

Sorry if I made you all sad with this chapter...

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tendousthoughts · 3 years

Text

HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 3

Character(s) included: Oikawa & Kyoutani

Requested by: @chibiiichann

Warning(s): Cursing, Mention of bullying [Oikawa], Mention of flinching [Kyoutani], Hints towards readers tough past [Kyoutani]

Song of the day: Trees II by McCfferty

A/N: First off thanks for 200- I know I said it a lot but I’m just so glad! Next, many of you haven’t seen but I have updated a few things. One of the biggest being my name I go by. At the moment I’m trying out Xic. I also noted my pronouns and stuff. Which you can all find on my announcements post. Now back to some more ‘important’ things [though this is important, this is not why you came here!]. Sorry about the long wait for part three! Please read through the warnings again to make sure everything is okay. Thank you for everything. Bye!

Where to find all the parts!

Where to find all my content!

Tag(s): @chibiiichann & @corporeal-terrestrial

Oikawa

He was at it again. Working late nights and shit. You were happy for him. You were. Of course you were. He was back doing what he loved. He was back playing volleyball. With that happiness also came fear and worry. You knew how he was. Everyone who ever met him, knew how he was. He over worked himself. He always did and scared you. No matter how hard he tried not to. He pushed himself past his limits. Even after the doctor already told him, if he didn’t ease up on the practice, his knee would get even worse. But he was Oikawa Tōru. Determined and intelligent.

It was ten thirty and he already missed your date. Which you expected to happen, but it still kind of hurt. You tried calling for the fifth time that night, but you were met with the same thing. After a few rings it went to voicemail.

“Hey! You’ve reached the voicemail of Oikawa Tōru, thank you for calling! At the moment I’m busy but I promise after I’m done I’ll call you back. If you want, leave me a message and I’ll get back to you. Byeee!”

You waited all night for him to come home around twelve thirty. He looked tired. Extremely tired and to be honest that pissed you off more. Not only did he not respond but he over worked himself again, and when he woke up the next night sore, you were the one who would have to take care of him.

Instead of bringing it up you waited for the morning. Not wanting to have this conversation while he was tired. It would feel like you were talking to yourself, and he wouldn’t understand. So you went to bed with him and by the morning he was already up before you.

You went to the kitchen to find him shuffling through your medication bin. “Are you sore?” You ask, looking at him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need breakfast and some medicine,” he muttered. He couldn’t have cared less. At least that’s what it looked like. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

“Maybe you should listen. You know, lay off volleyball practice for a day or something. Try to lesson the hours and stuff..” You looked back at him for his reaction.

“Can’t. If I ease up I’ll never be able to catch up.” He finally looked to you now, finding the medicine.

“I mean I think you will be fine. It is taking over your whole life and stuff so I just don’t want it to be a bigger issue. Like you know.. with your knees and stuff.” Your eyes are pinned on him.

“I told you not to worry about my knee, and it’s not taking up my life okay? It has and will always be my life. It’s the only thing I’m good at. So no, I'm not going to take a break.” He snapped at you. Which caught you off guard.

“It is… It is taking up your life,” you replied which made his face change.

“You don’t understand how it is like me. You don’t! I understand you don’t have anything you're good at and shit. But you have to understand that I actually have goals in life okay? You have to understand that my fucking life won’t revolve around you and how you feel when I do something. It won’t and never will. You and I are together because I feel like having you around. Because you know what, volleyball is the only thing that distracts me from leaving. Volleyball is the only thing I can do to escape you!” He screamed.

It takes a few seconds for the weight of his words to sink into your skin. But here’s the thing. You knew what you were up against when you started dating him. He just lit a fuse in you. A spark that made an explosion of feelings hit you. When it did you couldn’t control your words. “After all that practice I wondered why you never made it to nationals. I mean seriously. You need a distraction from me, right? Your always doing it, and get you can’t even fucking get to nationals. Not only that but I can see why your last girlfriend left you. You're a dick. You can’t remember a fucking date. A fucking date we have been planning for weeks. Oh wait, let me correct that, a date I’ve been planning for weeks. Not only that but I took my fucking time to work around your schedule. For you not to even send a message.” You spat out. You looked down at him, “I wonder sometimes if everyone was right. You and me. Never belonged. I’m just a distraction from such a ‘handsome’ and ‘kind’ person.”

He looked hurt at first, but then again he started it and intended to finish it. “I can see why your whole family doesn’t talk to you. You always think you're the best or something. Maybe I remembered the date. Have you ever thought of that? Maybe I didn’t wanna hangout with you. Maybe I didn’t want to hear you nagging me every fucking second. You know what? I can see why people fucking hate you. Bully you and shit. Your such a fucking selfish freak.”

“What..?” You looked at him. You told him you were bullied, because you thought of him as your safe space. You thought of him as the only person who understood you. You felt safe when he was around you. You felt understood. To use that against you. To say you deserved it. To say you deserved to get hurt. To get shamed. To get everything that happened to you… it was your fault?

“What are you too dumb to understand?” He laughed at you. Hatred and venom spilling from his lips. “Awe.. look at the baby. You should be grateful I didn't break up with you. You should be thankful because I’m the only reason you're even someone.”

Tears filled your eyes. “God fucking damn it.” You muttered softly. You weren’t going to allow him to take you down. You were stronger then he would ever understand. “You really think anyone wants to hang out with you..? Do you fucking think anyone find you a good person..? Your just a fucking pretty face, okay? Your nothing compared to anyone else on your team. You might not realize it but to be honest sometimes I do want to be set free. Set free from this shitty relationship okay? That’s the truth. Sometimes I get sick of having to take care of you. When your fucking sore before you over works your self again. I am the only one trying to keep you okay. I’m the only one who actually thinks about the long run. No matter how hard you practice in the end you won’t even be able to walk. Let alone play volleyball and shit. You know what sometimes I get sick of being the only fucking one trying to keep us together.”

“Then maybe you should give up okay. Maybe we should finally go our separate ways. I mean after all, you're too easy.” He was hurt. He just blurted out whatever he thought would hurt you the most. Which fucking worked. Before you had said anything more he had left the room, leaving you stunned.

It took a moment but before you knew it you were out of the house, crying and walking the farthest away from your shared house as you could. “Fuck..” you whisper. Did he really not want to be with you..? You should have known. This relationship wasn’t a relationship. You barely talked. You felt alone. So fucking alone.

It took an hour for him to fully cool down. When he walked out of the room he was expecting you to be waiting for him. He was expecting everything to be okay. When he was met with the emptiness. The emptiness of you being actually gone. He was met with the realization that his words were taken just how he thought he wanted them to be.

You on the other hand we’re at the park blasting music in your ears. Forcing the thoughts to be pushed deep down. Forcing you to forget everything. Everything that hurts you. Maybe it would be best if you guys did go your separate ways..? You knew this wasn’t good for your mental health. But fuck that. This was the only thing that made you feel grounded. Made you feel okay. When he wasn’t with you or practicing he was out with friends, drinking and partying. You couldn’t continue to live like this. So maybe it would be best to let go. To give up on everything and everything you loved… your everything was him. You always argued and at this point you felt sick. Thinking about it just broke you. You had no more tears to cry, with your tear stained cheeks you decided to go back. To your home. It was over. Everything you had built up was coming crashing down.

On his side he was freaking out. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew there was no excuse for what he did to you, but what could he say? You were gone already. It took a bit for him to get to the nerve to call you. To his surprise he heard the sound of your ringing phone. So you left it. Maybe you were going to come back. Maybe you will and then everything will be okay again. Maybe everything would be perfect. It was a small chance but that's all he could hold on to.

When you walked in it was quiet, but there were soft whimpers and cries coming from your shared room. Gently you knocked on the door and waited for a response. You were surprised when you immediately heard a stumble and then were met with a hug. Your shoulder almost immediately feels wet to the touch. “Ba.. Oikawa..?” You muttered.

“Please don’t call me that.. please..” He muttered softly. His face buried deep into your clothes.

You kinda ignored his response. “I came back to get my stuff. I took into consideration what you said and I realized that you don’t deserve to be distracted by me all the time..” You whispered softly. “So like you said earlier.. I think it is best if we stop seeing each other.. entirely because I don’t know if I could let you go otherwise..”

His arms tightened around you, “C..can we please talk about it first.. please..” his nightmare was coming true, and maybe it was dumb but he didn’t realize how much he needed you.

“There’s nothing to talk about.. I don’t understand why you want to make it harder on me. I gave you what you wanted okay..? You can practice your heart out and hangout with your friends and stuff okay? You can finally find someone who will fit all your needs. You and I both know that I will never be what you want. So maybe it would be best if we just let go..”

“No… please no.. that’s not what I want.. I want to make it up to you and be there for you and I want to make you happy and I want everything to be perfect. I know I messed up okay? I don’t deserve you and I don’t know what came over me today because you're everything I’ve ever wanted. I know I don’t deserve it and there’s no excuse for what I said or did… I know I should let you find someone better but I love you. I love you so fucking much. I know I’ve been lacking and I want to make up for it. I want to be someone you want to be around again.. I love you so fucking much okay? I should have been there. I shouldn’t have said the things I did. I know I don’t deserve a second chance but please.. just one more.. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He didn’t want to let go of everything.

“I’m sorry too.. you didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry for everything and that’s why I want to let you go. To find someone who will not hurt you like I hurt you.. You and I both know that I can't resist it. I don’t know why you do this to me.. pull me back.. you have one more chance… Please don’t make me regret it. I really love you but this.. this isn’t going to work if we do what we are doing now okay? We will just tear each other more and more apart..” you whispered gently, kissing his head. Your arms finally meet his back as you hold him. “I’m sorry.. but I’ve got you now baby. I love you so fucking much..”

Kyoutani

Kyoutani was the type of person most people would never understand. Not because they were “difficult” or anything.. they just never took the time too. Well other than you. You were different. You understood his outburst and such. But at the same time you were human. There was only so much you could take. There was only so much you would take.

When he came into the locker room you were already waiting for him. He had been thrown out of the game for fighting with a few people. You knew he was frustrated. You could hear the crowd from a mile away shouting to kick him off. It was harsh. Even for ‘mad dog’ which he hated to be called. He hated to be tied to an animal.. and always being an angry reck. Anybody would. But of course nobody understood other than you. When he sat on the bench you immediately rushed over.

“Baby.. I’m sorry.. You didn’t deserve that.. just ignore them, please. I know it’s hard but their not important okay..?” You we’re just trying to comfort him. But there were times when Kyoutani couldn’t control himself. Like any other person when they get looked down at every fucking moment of their lives. When they are ridiculed and laughed at all the time. When they are nothing more than an angry person.. Sometimes there is nothing more to do than be the person everyone so desperately makes you out to be.

“Not important? Not important! I just got fucking kicked from the game because of them chanting to kick me. They didn’t even fucking have the decency to call me by my name. So don’t tell me it’s okay and that their opinion on me doesn’t matter. Because quite frankly their opinion is the only one that matters it seems.” He lashed out.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that.. it wasn’t entirely their fault. You were arguing with the other team members.” You muttered. It wasn’t meant to do any harm, just for him to keep in mind.

“Are you serious right now.? Nobody else got kicked. Nobody. If they can’t handle a little trash talking, maybe they shouldn’t play a sport. I mean seriously there’s no need for them to tell the referees to kick me.” He started raising his voice when he spoke.

“I know it’s just that.. maybe you should try and not trash talk you know?” You whispered softly, retreating a bit.

“What?” He looked annoyed. “God ducking damn it. How can you be so cute but so fucking annoying. I mean seriously how can someone with such a face be so fucking dumb and so annoying?” His hands were balled into fist

“I..I don’t understand, can you tell me why you act so sweet..? Then so cold the next moment..? You don’t mean it right..? Please say you don’t mean it.” You were worried you loved him but god it was hard. It was hard to respond when your friends asked about your relationship. It was hard when they flaunted their perfect relationship and then asked about yours. Its was so fucking hard.

“Do you think I would say it otherwise..?” He looked at you. He laughed at you as he saw your pitiful expression. God it was almost sickening how much he saw that expression. That expression that nobody else had ever shown him. The one of worry but at the same time already knowing it was coming. He loved it. He loved everything about you. But most of the time you pissed him off. This relationship wasn’t healthy. But for god sake you already started counseling. But fuck this was a bad idea.

Silence. Nothing could come out. You wanted to scream. You wanted to forget this. You wanted it to stop. Everything to stop.

“Answer me.” He punched the wall next to you. Fear spreading all over your face. Fuck. Fuck. Not here. Please no. He gripped your warm face making it so cold in seconds. Forcing you to look at him he laughed at your crying face. But when you didn’t stop for a minute he immediately backed away. He fucked up. He knew he fucked up. “Wait I’m sorry baby..” he muttered.

“Please stop. Please. I won’t do it again.” Flashbacks we’re pulling you way too far out. You were drowning. No one was around to save you. He was laughing as you begged to be saved, pushing you deeper into your own pool of your own thoughts. You were so cold. The next second you were able to move back to the surface.

Realization hit as he stepped back. “I..I am sorry..” he muttered softly as he left the room without another word leaving his mouth. Words were banging on his lips but he knew if he spilled them out everything out it would just hurt you ten times more.

You got up five minutes later, finally pulled back to reality and decided to get up. Grabbing your stuff you walked back into the stadium. Waving a small wave to the rest of his team before exiting. Confusion was read all over as they saw your tear stained face. To be honest, all that was running through your mind was that you didn’t want Kyoutani to break up with you. You didn’t want to be alone, again. You didn’t want to be just another one of his ex’s. So for the better of both of you it would be best to leave him be. To let him cool off.. for him to feel better.

He was freaking out. He fucked up. You. You were his everything, not only that but you were more than just that. You were like a fucking rainbow at the end of a rainy day. You were his partner in crime. You made him feel normal, you made him feel safe, and loved. He couldn’t believe he just put that all in danger. He just put everything on the line because of some stupid game. He hit the wall hard, “fuck me. I’m sorry y/n..” he muttered as he sank to the floor and balled up. Tears burning through his eyes. He did the one thing he promised you that he would protect you from. You became the one thing he was always scared of becoming. He loved you so much, he love you so fucking much.

You left and got into your car. Sinking into your seat you locked the doors, and hit the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath salty tears rolled down your already stained face. Placing the key in and turning it the car started. Next thing you knew you had left wherever you could go. You loved him. So fucking much. But it was hard to be okay when he acted so fucking rough with you. It was hard to stay calm and not imagine your past relationship in this one. You tried. You really did but god it was hard to feel okay, feel okay about everything happening around you. It was too much. So fucking much. It made your head hurt.

When the game ended Kyoutani was still freaking out, now moved back into the lockers. He didn’t know what he was expecting but he knew he hoped you would still be there. God damn it. He fucked up. You had left. You were gone. Tears brimming his eyes as he teammates walked in. Now mentioning it to his teammates their faces seemed to change. More salty fucking tears left his eyes, as he heard about what type of pain you looked like you were in.

You headed back to your shared place. Unsure where else to go. You weren’t close with your family anymore. You had no friends. You had no work buddies. You had nobody but Kyoutani and in turn, now you were left alone with the thought of everything being gone. Ripped right out of your hands as you're forced to watch your whole world come crumbling down on you. You placed your stuff down on the side and laid on the bed. It smelled just like safety. Just like Kyoutani. You just wanted to be held. You just wanted everything to be perfect, again. To be okay at least. You needed him more than anything.

After a night out he finally made it back to your shared place. He didn’t want to be back without you, but you weren’t answering and he didn’t know what else to do. When he walked into the apartment he slowly walked into your shared room. There he saw you. Laying in bed cuddled up in the blankets. Slowly and carefully he walked up. Not wanting to cause you any more hurt. He missed you. Even for a few hours he had felt like he hadn’t seen you in years. But maybe that was because he thought that’s what might have happened. Maybe he thought you had left for good. Maybe he thought he would never have the chance to apologize. Never have the chance to hold you again. When he reached the bed he noticed that you were awake. “Hey y/n..” he muttered softly. The silence was killing him. “I’m so sorry. I know I fucked up. I promised to make you feel safe and protected around me. I made a promise to keep you safe and protected. I broke both of those. I fucked up. I know I did. I lashed out again. I did exactly what everyone says I do. I just get so fucking heated for no reason and I know I shouldn’t and I know I should just relax. But I feel like if I do the worlds would burn though my throat and then it would just explode.. and I know it’s stupid and I know I end up hurting you more. I know that there is no good reason to do that. But I just.. I don’t know. You're the only one that makes me feel normal okay..? I know it’s not fair. I know it’s not. You just make me feel like whenever I’m with you that I’m floating. I just want everything to be okay again. I want everything to be back to normal. I know I should give you space but I missed you so much. I don’t want you to leave, please don’t leave..” he was crying again. He barely had any tears left to cry. He wanted to hold you but he knew it was a stupid idea. “I’m sorry for being so selfish.. but please..”

You never really heard him or saw him crack. But fuck. It hurts you so much. To see him beg for you to stay with him. What were you supposed to do..? Leave him now? That was never even the plan. You didn’t have a plan to be honest. You sat up biting your lip before you gently held him. “Hey baby it will be okay.. calm down I’ve got you.. I’m not going anywhere now. I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” You muttered softly. He melted into your touch. He knew he didn’t deserve it but he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Shush… I’ve got you.. take a deep breath..” you mumbled softly kissing his head as he took deep breaths. Soon enough he was relaxed in your arms again. “You know and I know that I love you so much. But there’s a line between where I can take it and I can’t. I understand you get frustrated but I don’t deserve to be treated like that. I don’t deserve to be scared of being hit.. and I know we both know that. I try to be understanding but you need to try to be too okay..? I love you so much.. more than you might believe but Kyoutani I can’t handle being in a relationship with you if you're constantly annoyed or angry with me. I think we deserve to be happy.. and if that means needing to take a break then we would have to okay? You need to work on communicating. I know it can be hard.. but please..” you whispered. Tears flowing down your soft skin again. It was getting a lot. So it would be best if you told him… you needed him to understand.

He gently shook his head. He understood. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew he was lucky for you to be holding him.. for him to even still be in a relationship with you let alone it be still a romantic one. He loved you and he knew you didn’t deserve anything that he put you through. In the end all that mattered was you in his eyes. He was going to change.. he was. “I promise.. thank you y/n..” he whispered softly. Gently he wrapped his arms around you. “I love you so much..” he muttered. Everything would be okay.. he knew it was going to be now. All that mattered was that you were safe. That you were happy.. that you were in his arms again.

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inkyblinders · 3 years

Text

These Fragile Pieces

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Requested by anon: Hi! I was wondering if I can request a Tommy Shelby angst to a happy ending imagine. Basically, Tommy told y/n to wait for him, but he moves on with Grace. Now, when she tries to move on, he won’t let her... etc.

Author’s note: This story is set shortly after the events of Season 1. ~1000 words.

Warnings: Angst

Tags: Let me know if you want to be added or removed

@rrtxcmt, @whizzbeesdukes ___________ “It starts and ends at the Garrison for us, eh?”

On a night like this, the pub should be filled with customers, red-faced with whisky and loud with song. But the tables are empty, the room so quiet you can almost hear the sawdust from the ceiling drift to the ground, swirling in the air like snowflakes.

You can do that--change business hours according to your whim and fancy-- when you’re the leader of the Peaky Blinders.

“Tommy, you didn’t need to close down the pub just to talk. It’s not like I’d run away. I’m not unreasonable.” Your mouth twists even as your voice is steady.

“Aye,” He says heavily. “It’s not you who’s unreasonable.”

He casts his eyes upward, and if you didn’t know any better you would think he was praying. But Tommy Shelby doesn’t pray to God. That part of him died when he went off to war and came back a man with a heart made of frost and stone.

“What do you want? If you need someone to mind the pub now that Grace is--”

“That’s not what I came to talk to you about. The truth is...”

Tommy reaches across the rickety old table and takes your hands, his own palms callused and warm. Good, strong hands. You’ve seen them kill a man before, but you’ve also seen them carefully pick bluebells from the field and thrust them to you, sweet and bashful in the way a boy in love could only be, because he knew they were your favorite.

That was years ago. Now you hardly know the man sitting across from you.

There were rumors that Tommy fell in love with a golden-haired siren and lost her when she betrayed him. You’ve seen Grace working in the pub before. She was quiet, polite to the rowdy customers but keeping to herself. When you told her you had kin from Galway she smiled wistfully and said she missed the rolling green hills there.

Her songs were clear and sweet, and they brought back some semblance of normalcy to the town. The war-haunted men of Small Heath have gone too long without something beautiful in their lives.

So when you saw Tommy grow closer and closer to Grace, lingering in the bar after hours, passing over your gaze as though you were a ghost, you couldn’t find it within yourself to hate her. After all, it wasn’t her fault that he left you waiting on an empty promise.

f,Now, as you look at Tommy’s hands holding yours, ashamedly waiting for you to find the truth behind his eyes, you realize what he came for. Why he needed to talk to you alone. And a sudden fury filled you so that you could barely speak.

“How dare you,” You say in a low voice, shaking. “How dare you waltz into my life, pretending nothing’s changed, when I’ve waited and waited for you to come back to me?"

“After Grace, I--”

“Was this seat where she sang for you, that first day? Did you pick this place because it reminds you of her? I'm not a dog to be replaced when your favorite runs away." The words rip out from you, dripping with acid, cruel even to your own ears.

He flinches as if you'd struck him in the face. "It's not like that," he says fiercely, "I never meant to hurt you. And I never loved Grace."

“We’re through, Tommy. You made your choice and I made mine. I have a man, now. He is kind to me, you know? Kind and true.”

“But you don’t love him.”

His matter-of-fact tone makes you truly want to strike him.

"You pretended I didn't exist, Tommy. You came back and pretended I was a stranger."

Tears blur your vision until his face dissolves into fractures of color and light. You blink them impatiently away, but more well up to replace them until you feel him get up and sit beside you. And despite hating yourself for it, you allow him to gather you in his arms, and press your head to his shoulder,

It has been so long, the closeness should feel foreign. But as he murmurs into your hair and tenderly wipes the tears away with his hand, as you breath in his scent like oxygen, it's like the war never happened and you only belonged to each other again.

"I came back from France different, and I didn't want you to see me like that." Tommy says quietly, his voice rumbling in his chest.

"Back in the trenches, when the cries of the dying were too loud to be ignored, I'd close my eyes and see your face. When I slept I'd dream of seeing you again, holding bluebells in your arms."

"But when I came back everything was wrong. All I saw were the blood and the mud and the dead. I saw Grace and I thought, maybe I could make you hate me this way, hate me enough to make you forget. So you don't ever have to see me trapped in my own mind, reliving horrors not meant for anyone to see."

Now it is he who twists his lips into a sardonic smile.

"But it seems like she left before she could do any damage."

"Grace never did anything. It was you who thought you could play God with my heart." You sniffle even as your heart breaks at the pain Tommy has hidden for so long.

“And what a fool I was for believing I could do that." Tommy sighs, full of regret.

"As for the Garrison, love, don't you remember? This was where you sent me off. You said you’d rather remember me here smiling and drunk instead of scared at the station. When we sat here, I also asked if you’d wait for me.”

"So I'm asking again, as wretched as a man can be, am I too late?"

"No," You whisper softly, reaching across the space between you to cup his face in your hands, "Never."

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