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bvidzsoo · 1 year

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Pure-blooded (Part 1)

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: the use of the word ‘bastard’, nothing else

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x oc

Word count: 5942

Summary: A story about a girl called Vaella Velaryon, who after more than six years, returns to King's Landing due to her brother, Luke, being questioned about his right as heir of Driftmark, and she meets Aemond. A changed man. A vicious man who is set to have his revenge, unknowing that Vaella would do anything for her family.

A/N: *khm khm*(does a shameful walk) As a simple mortal, I had no choice but to crumble when I saw this man, so...my brain started working, and here I am, writing about Aemond *sighs* A little heads up, this will be a mini-series and we’ll see how many parts it’ll have, because I initially wanted to write three but uhm well, I keep getting ideas sooo yeah. I can start a taglist if people are interested, just comment on this post to let me know. Your feedback is strongly appreciated, so I hope you will leave your thoughts for me to read. You can find my story on Wattpad as well, under the username ‘Arfina8′. Enjoy now!

↳ Masterlist

Serenity and peace was something King’s Landing had been lacking ever since King Viserys decided to marry Alicent Hightower. The friendship and trust had been broken forever between the two girls, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Lady Alicent Hightower. Rhaenyra felt betrayed, but tried to understand. Her father and her friend, who seemed to drastically change once her title was given, Queen Alicent Hightower. She had no business sitting on the throne next to the King, but Otto Hightower was a vile man, who out of greed would do anything to see his family succeed. Rightfully or not, it was no surprise to anyone anymore. Everyone from Rhaenyra’s family knew of the distrust and disrespect the Hightowers kept sending her way, time and time again, questioning her rightful title as heir to the Iron Throne and the legitimacy of her children. In some ways, it had become taboo to speak of such thing, unless you wished to grant yourself a very painful death. It was visible to everyone’s eyes, how different her sons were compared to her husband, Laenor Velaryon. And despite sharing the Targaryen features as much as her mother’s temper, Vaella was no different to her brothers. Her long platinum blonde hair and gleaming purple eyes wouldn’t save her from the whispers of others calling her a bastard as well. Why? Even in plain sight it was quite obvious that she shared none of her father’s qualities nor personality despite being raised by him. Laenor was a kind, patient, a bit clumsy and irresponsible, but loving man. Vaella, however, was brash and impatient. She didn’t take orders from anyone but her mother and alleged uncle, Daemon, and of course, herself. She was her own master and thus followed no one else but her own mind and heart. She was a soldier, never to be tamed, and a free spirit who sought justice and fairness. She wanted peace and most importantly to be accepted by her people for once and for all. She hated the whispers as much as her brothers, Jacaerys and Lucerys, did, as Joffrey was too young to understand what being called a bastard meant. And despite Princess Rhaenyra doing her best to protect her children, who meant the world to her, she was questioned time and time again, their legitimacy brought as center of discussion more than once. Vaella hated feeling powerless and uncapable of doing anything as a young girl, watching the pain in her mother’s eyes any time someone accused her brothers of looking like Ser Harwin Strong. As a young girl, she never understood why the people at Red Keep would stare at her with spite anytime she opened her mouth. But as time passed and she grew, she started to understand. She looked nothing like Laenor, yet resembled Daemon as if she were a fierce copy of his. She never dared question her mother, out of respect and fear of knowing the unspoken truth, but she knew. She knew the second her and Daemon were forced to meet at his beloved wife’s funeral, Laena. Their eyes held the same harshness and determination. Their hearts beat for justice and validation as they both felt like they deserved more than what life has given them, and most importantly, they both would burn bridges for Rhaenyra and slay anyone who dared mistreat the Princess. Vaella couldn’t explain why, but her love and loyalty lay deeply with her mother. She swore to protect her until her last breath were to be taken and give her anything she wanted. Sometimes, Rhaenyra would laugh, and say she was the son she never asked for but got in the form of a daughter, secretly wishing that she could name Vaella as heir to the Iron Throne. But Vaella was content with her position and the probability of inheriting Dragonstone one day, she didn’t yearn for the throne. That was to be Jacaerys’ as the second born, but first son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Prince Laenor Velaryon. Yet after everything they have done for the King’s second family, the Hightowers, they even moved out to let them be in peace, they would still take and take from them. They would not rest until they have seen Rhaenyra destroyed and with nothing. They wanted her dead, especially Otto and Alicent, and it was no secret to anyone. Vaella hated that family with a passion and always wondered how such a sweet man like her grandsire, King Viserys, fell into their trap. Perhaps, that is why he fell into it, because he refused to see their true nature. Now, with the sole existence of Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond Targaryen, Princess Rhaenyra’s succession to the throne would be questioned and debated over and over again. Those bastards would never have enough, not until they see the rightful heir and her family burning. Something that would never happen on Vaella and Daemon’s watches, not if they would strike the Hightowers first, but for that, they had to be patient. And that is why Daemon sent a raven to Vaella, discreetly asking her to join them at King’s Landing as Lucerys’ legitimacy had been questioned once again as her uncle Vaemond was petitioning against him inheriting Driftmark. Vaella’s blood boiled when she read the letter from her father and without much explanation she went to get her dragon, Silverwing, to fly to King’s Landing. Vaella was a traveler, therefore she resided both on Dragonstone and Pentos, the later being a place her father suggested she’d frequent. Daemon loved the libraries they had there and figured he could send her daughter to enjoy what that place had to offer for her. Vaella didn’t complain once she saw the beauty of that place and all the lectures it had to offer her. She might’ve been a soldier, but her heart yearned to study and learn as much as she could about her heritage, history, and curiosities of each land.

The ride to King’s Landing had been swift, Silverwing could sense his rider’s anger and displeasure as they flew through the air. It came as no surprise to see nobody waiting for her once she arrived to the Red Keep, the courtyard empty as she waltzed through it, head held high. Not being welcomed to the place she once called her home didn’t affect her in any way. What did anger her, however, were the disgusting changes brought to it. The place was littered with green and the emblems of the Hightowers, making her feel sick. This place rightfully belonged to the Targaryens, her own family, and she couldn’t believe the plain disrespect brought upon the still living King by none other than his wife, who Vaella refused to acknowledge as Queen. When she was a child, she didn’t understand the seemingly obvious hatred directed at her by the woman or why she was trying to keep her sons away from her and her own brothers. Her uncles were nice kids while they were growing up, until they weren’t, until their mother’s words got to them, forever imprinted in their minds. Vaella was never one to instigate anything or hate people for no concrete reasons, but that faithful night, when Lucerys cut their uncle’s eye out accidentally, she realized there was no turning back. Aemond had looked at them with disgust and hatred, when he saw them rush to into their mother’s arms, Princess Rhaenyra. Vaella wasn’t a witness to the event as Aegon had stolen one of her dagger’s and was running around the castle drunkenly, hiding from her. She felt horrible when she heard what had happened. It made her hate herself how instead of being there to protect her younger brothers and cousins, she was running after Aegon, who was just being his usual jester self and annoying her. Despite their current hatred for each other, she had fond memories of Aegon, as the two of them would bicker quite often and chase each other around the castle. While they were growing up, Aegon was good with a sword and secretly would train her from time to time as being a lady and a Princess didn’t grant her the same privileges her brothers and uncles had. Aemond was never too fond of her, recognizing the power she held inside her at a young age already. He saw her as someone who would challenge him and outshine him in the future, getting his eye taken by her brother only made matters worse between the two. Vaella wasn’t fond of Aemond either, even before that faithful event, as she thought he was too soft and easy to pick on. He had the potential in him, yet he allowed everyone to walk all over him. Vaella hated people like that, people who willingly allowed themselves to be victims without standing up for themselves and instead running to their mothers to cry about what had happened. If Vaella were to be like that, she’d be nowhere today. She wouldn’t be a soldier, she wouldn’t have one of the most powerful dragon’s under her control, she wouldn’t have earned so many men and women’s respect, and most importantly…she wouldn’t be her mother’s most loyal and sworn protector. Lost in thought, she made her way up the stairs to the second floor of the castle, having in mind to visit her grandsire, but four guards came rounding the corner and stopping her in her tracks. Her body tensed as her left hand grabbed the handle of her sword strapped onto her hip.

“Princess Vaella,” the commander spoke up, bringing the princess’ gleaming eyes onto him, “your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, asked us to escort you to her chamber once you have arrived.”

Vaella stared at them for a second before nodding her head, releasing the handle of her sword. These guards were harmless, and they would lead her to her mother. The commander nodded his head silently and they started walking, two guards disappearing as they descended the stairs to their left, leaving her with two guards only. Despite being a soldier herself, Vaella didn’t wear armor unless she had to partake in a battle. She found the clothing too heavy to bear all day and opted for a simpler outfit, one that wouldn’t restrain her if she needed to fight. She wore tight black, leather pants, and two daggers gifted by Daemon, were hidden in her two boots which reached just above her knees. The laces were tightly tied together, the steel of her daggers lightly digging into her clothed leg, a constant reminder that she had them there. Her camisole was always beige and tucked away underneath her usually burgundy or black flowy shirts. Vaella wore them always off her shoulders and tucked inside her leather pants, accompanied by her usually black corset which came over her shirt and hugged her torso firmly. She didn’t like wearing her corset too loosely or too tightly as it mattered a lot when it came to combat offering her more mobility or restricting her of some movement. Her burgundy cloak was eye catching and everyone would stare at her when she passed by them, she wasn’t afraid or ashamed of her heritage. She wore it proudly and loudly, letting everyone know who she was. The daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Prince Laenor Velaryon. Those who valued their lives stayed away from the fierce Princess. The guards stopped in front of double doors and knocked on it before they allowed Vaella to step inside. She opened the doors and found herself looking at her mother and father. Rhaenyra was cradling her bump as Daemon looked outside the window, eyebrows drawn together.

“Mother, father.” Vaella greeted and bowed her head as a wide smile spread onto her mother’s lips.

“Vaella, finally,” She let out a sigh of relief and approached her daughter, “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it here in time.”

“None sense, mother.” Vaella’s eyebrows furrowed as she embraced her mother, careful of her bump, “I shall never miss out on such a hideous hearing. Will they ever let us rest—”

“Vaella, darling,” Daemon’s fatherly voice interrupted Vaella’s full of anger rant, “we had a rather straining day today. Let us not aggravate Princess Rhaenyra furthermore.”

Vaella gulped and bit her tongue, refraining herself of saying the insults she had in mind directed at the Hightowers, “My apologies, but tell me, what is the matter?”

Rhaenyra sighed and glanced at Daemon, who nodded lightly, “The King is very sick…I do not know for how much longer he will be amongst us.”

Vaella could hear the heartbreak in her mother’s voice and it broke her own heart seeing her like that, and hearing the condition of her grandsire. She loved the man a lot, he always protected them, he always took their side and shut down each and every accusation thrown their way. She might hate the Hightowers, and despite King Viserys choosing to marry such a snake as Alicent, it always left her impressed how much he’d go against his wife to protect his only child from his one and only love, Princess Aemma. Vaella always wished to meet her, but Her Grace died when her mother was a blooming girl; it was a very long time ago.

“Is there anything to be done?” Vaella found her voice as she looked at her father. He shook his head with a sigh, seeing his brother in such state bothered him a lot.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for anything to be done, daughter.” Daemon’s voice was low and Vaella nodded, sensing from his tone that they were done talking about the King’s condition. She looked at her mother and willed herself to smile at her.

“How is the baby, Princess? I haven’t seen you all in over a moon.” Rhaenyra smiled down at her bump and looked back at her daughter.

“She’s doing well.”

“So it seems I’ll have another baby sister?” Vaella smiled as she glanced between her parents, having accepted Daemon’s daughters as her own sisters the day her parents got married. She held no ill intentions towards her half-sisters, perhaps a little envy that they go to grow up with her real father, but she never held that against them. It was never their fault.

“Your mother had decided that it will be a girl and so I have agreed with her.” Daemon said with a chuckle as he brushed his hand against Rhaenyra’s baby bump.

“A wise choice, my Prince.” Vaella chuckled and Daemon smiled at her, noticing the two daggers gifted by him hiding in her boots and the red stoned ring also gifted by him sitting proudly on her left pointer finger. Vaella’s unashamed show of her heritage always amused him, but also made him adore her more. He was content of having a daughter which resembled him so much, yet he was grateful Vaella was lucky enough to inherit Rhaenyra’s level-headedness, which stopped her from being completely reckless as he was.

“Vaella, your brothers have dearly missed you. I think you should meet them.” Vaella’s eyes lit up at the mention of her brothers and she eagerly nodded her head at her mother’s suggestion, “They are probably headed to the courtyard, I heard them talking and saying they wanted to see the training grounds—”

Vaella bowed her head at her father and mother and turned to leave, but her mother’s final words made her stop by the door, “And please, Princess, stop them from engaging into anything stupid. And I also hope I can expect the same from yourself, Princess Vaella.”

Vaella smirked to herself, her mother knowing her too well. If she were to be provoked, there were less chances she’d back down and more that she would stand up to the challenge and accept it, “Of course, mother, do not worry.”

Finding her brothers was no hard task, as they were quite loud while chatting. They were eagerly running around the castle, looking and checking every nook and cranny they were allowed to. Vaella, just to amuse herself, crept after them quietly, wondering when they’d notice her. So far, she had been tailing them for ten minutes and they seemed oblivious to her presence. Or so she had thought, because rounding the corner which lead to the stairs taking them downstairs to the main entrance, fours hands had her pinned against the wall. Her brothers eyes widened and instantly released their sister, shocked and happy at the same time. Vaella grinned at them and pulled them both into a bear hug, having missed them.

“Sister!” Luke exclaimed and held onto her arms, “We were not informed you would be joining us here!”

Vaella rolled her eyes and scoffed as she leaned a bit down, “I wouldn’t miss such an atrocious event, Luke. Somebody has to make order in this damned castle—”

“And you wish to be doing that, right?” Jace interrupted her inner thoughts spilling out and Vaella smirked at him, leaning her arm on his shoulder as Luke released her. She was taller than both of her brothers, but they were still growing, she was sure one day she’d have to look up at both of them as they would outgrow her.

“I wish to slit every throat that dares question the legitimacy and loyalty of my family.” Vaella answered them darkly as she glared at nothing specifically, letting her dark thoughts control her. Luke gulped nervously as he glanced at Jace before grabbing onto Vaella’s hand, bringing her back to the present.

“You can be so scary sometimes, sister.” Luke muttered as Jace took her other hand and they suddenly started pulling their sister with themselves, heading down the stone steps and marching towards the huge door. Vaella ignored Luke’s comment and let her brothers drag her with themselves, not complaining, as she had missed their presences. She loved them dearly and enjoyed spending her time with them. Being a few years older, she would read to them when they were younger and she’d help them learn high Valyrian, finding amusement at Jace’s repeated mistranslations. Once outside, Jace released his hold on his sister and ran up ahead Luke and Vaella, feeling full of excitement as he took in the place. In his eyes, nothing much had changed. Luke seemed hesitant in following after his brother, but still holding onto Vaella, he was forced to descend the stone steps. She noticed his hesitancy but said nothing, taking in the scenery before them. People had gathered here and there, some chatting as well as walking around. A smaller group had gathered around two fighting knights.

“Smaller than I remember.” Luke commented as Vaella and him glanced at two identical looking knights training, their swords clashing together. Vaella was itching to hold her sword and challenge a knight, but she remembered her mother’s words and refrained from doing so.

“It looks exactly the same.” Jace scoffed at his brother and hurried down the steps, glancing back at his sister and brother, urging them to follow him, “Ah, Luke, Vaella, come on!”

“In fact, it does not look exactly the same.” Vaella whispered to Luke with a grin and he shook his head, suddenly releasing her hand. Vaella looked at him with a questioning gaze until she noticed Jace tensing up and slowing down his walk to wait for his siblings to catch up to him. It didn’t take much for Vaella to realize why her brothers turned suddenly so stiff and alarmed. Everyone passing by them in the courtyard was staring. She hated it. The instant whispers and judgmental stares thrown their way, she wished to cut out their tongues and poke their eyes out. Her hand twitched to grab onto her sword, so instead, she allowed her hand to rest on Luke’s shoulder as Jace suddenly ran forward, towards a wall, with a missing piece in it. Luke and her stopped in front of a table full of various weapons, watching Jace’s excited face.

“See? I told you this would still be here.” Jace walked back towards them as Luke smiled to himself bashfully, “And you thought you could swing Criston’s morning star. And you almost took your own head off.”

No doubt Jace was recalling one of their trainings at which Vaella back then wasn’t allowed to participate, having been deemed too barbaric and un-ladylike. She couldn’t give a shit about it, but she didn’t want to upset her grandsire and her mother, so she stayed inside, and pretended to take an interest in sewing. When in reality, she absolutely hated it. As Vaella grabbed onto a weapon, her and Jace inspecting it, she felt Luke turn his head. She could feel his discomfort still and having her hand on his shoulder, she turned him back towards the weapons, giving him a glare.

“What’s your problem?” Jace asked as he noticed the exchange. Vaella forcefully placed the weapon back on the table as she felt Luke stealing a glance at her.

“Everyone’s staring at us.”

“Let them stare, brother.” Vaella snapped and looked around, catching the eyes of a few ladies and men, making her scowl at them. Everyone knew of the Princess’ reputation and they were afraid of her, her outbursts being sudden and brutal. Jace took a sword in his hand and pointed it at Vaella and Luke playfully, chuckling when Vaella raised an eyebrow at him. To his shame, his sister was a much better swordsman than he would ever be.

“No one would question me being heir to Driftmark—If—if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong.” Vaella sighed loudly as Jace stopped playing around with the weapons and looked at his brother.

“It doesn’t matter what they think.” Jace’s answer brought a smirk onto Vaella’s lips, appreciating his mindset which was similar to hers, and it left Luke looking at his two siblings smirking at each other cheekily. He sighed, feeling frustrated that seemingly he was the only one bothered by the stares and whispers. Luke knew Vaella didn’t care about anyone else’s opinions and he knew that while Jace cared, he never let it show. But Luke was different, he couldn’t hide his emotions well and being away from Dragonstone, which was his safe place, he felt uncomfortable and mistreated. However, he feared voicing his thoughts, knowing his sister would slay every soul standing in that courtyard if that meant it would make him feel better. He loved his sister, but she scared him more often than not. The siblings attention was caught by loud gasping coming from the crowd gathered around two fighting knights behind them. Jace, still excited about being back here, turned and ran up to the circle and it promptly made Luke and Vaella follow him. Vaella’s hand still rested on Luke’s shoulder and he didn’t mind, because it brought a sense of familiarity and reassurance to him. She was the only one making him feel safe underneath those judging eyes and he wished he could tell her, but knew his sister didn’t appreciate weakness from the people around her. Luke always tried to act tough around his sister, but sometimes failed miserably, yet it brought no change to Vaella’s thoughts about him. He was her baby brother and she knew he was scared of the world and their judgmental words, but she also knew he would grow up to be a powerful and proud man.

Vaella’s attention landed on the fighting knights and her body instantly tensed at the sight of Ser Criston Cole. She hated that man with her whole being and wanted nothing more than to cut out his tongue before torture him for the vile things he’s said and done to her family. However, her attention went as quickly as it came from that bastard as she watched the tall man fighting him. The platinum blonde hair made him easily recognizable as it could be no one else but a Targaryen. Having his back facing them, she couldn’t identify him, but she assumed it was Prince Aegon. He had been a fine swordsman while growing up, and as he loved attention she wouldn’t be surprised to see him fighting Ser Criston in front of a little crowd, gloating later on. That is, if he changed and became more mature…however, Vaella doubted her uncle was possible of changing much. Luke being a bit shorter tried to see better the fight and Vaella pulled him in front of her, letting go of his shoulder as she watched the fight closely. Ser Criston Cole was swinging his flail at the Targaryen prince, who was ferociously trying to dodge his blows while trying to gain advantage and swing at him with his sword. The fight was violent and the little crowd cheered when the Prince made a futile attempt at an advance, but Ser Criston swung his flail at him harshly, breaking the Prince’s shield in half. It took the later man off balance and Vaella smirked as she watched her uncle lose his footing for a second and slip, but her little amusement disappeared instantly when the two man changed positions, the prince now facing them and swinging at Ser Criston with his sword aggressively. It was not Prince Aegon, but Prince Aemond. Both Luke and Jace took a step back in shock, stepping onto Vaella’s feet, and when they turned to apologize, they saw how much her body language had changed. Vaella’s jaw was tight as her eyes focused on Prince Aemond only, following his every step as he turned around again, recoiling at Ser Criston’s continuous attacks. Vaella’s heart was thumping so loudly that all she could hear was that as she tried to ground herself, waiting for her shock to dissolve. The Aemond she knew was a frail and scared boy, running to his mother to seek refuge after every little inconvenience. But the Aemond before her looked ruthless in his swings and with a final swing from Ser Criston, Aemond swung his sword at him, taking him off guard, and winning the fight altogether. Vaella gulped and felt Luke’s hand sneakily holding hers, giving her a comforting squeeze. She quickly composed herself and placed her other hand on Jace’s shoulder, standing tall as the crowd started clapping for Prince Aemond.

“Well done, my Prince.” Ser Criston said smugly, “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys.” Prince Aemond’s stoic expression was accompanied by his harsh words, surprising Vaella and her brothers even more. The frail little boy was gone, and a ruthless, cold man stood in his place. It was a change which Vaella never imagined would happen.

“Nephews.” Prince Aemond’s good eye fell on the siblings, its stare pinning them to the ground, “Have you come to train?”

Luke and Jace stepped back at his words, stepping onto Vaella’s feet again, prompting her to hold onto both of her brothers’ napes to hold them in place. She felt Aemond’s eye on her, taking her in. They haven’t seen each other in over six years. Aemond was tall now, and his eyepatch seemed to scream in their faces, as his piercing blue eye ran up and down Vaella’s body, noticing the changes the years brought to her. Her muscles were firm but not too much, and he could see the discipline in her body, making it obvious that she was a fighter. And if not her body stance, the sword tied to her hips made it very obvious. Her face had also gotten fuller and more mature, her round eyes more hollow looking than they were before. Her purple eyes could slice anyone in half, and he felt just that as she stared him down, hatred mixed with surprised showing on her features. Aemond’s face had changed too, it’s what took Vaella off guard the most. His jaw was sharp and his cheekbones high, his light blue eye paired with his eyepatch making him look dangerous. She wasn’t scared of him, knowing of his nature before his transformation, but the fight she had just seen told her that her uncle might surprise her more than once during her family’s visit to the Red Keep.

“Niece.” Prince Aemond finally found his voice, not surprised at Vaella’s defiance as she refused to speak first. He knew her as a chatty girl, yet her own harsh exterior came as a surprise, making him think that the once cheerful girl he knew was long gone.

“Uncle.” Her voice was firm as she greeted back, not afraid to stand up to him. She intended on walking away, but as she started tugging on her brothers napes to make them walk, a guard shouted for the gates to be opened and in walked Prince Vaemond Velaryon. Vaella didn’t miss the smug smirk on Aemond’s lips as he watched Ser Vaemond walk inside, meanwhile her brothers started fidgeting under her hold, the Prince sending a dirty look their way. Vaella stood tall and gave a glare to Ser Vaemond, but was ignored just as her brothers were. Ser Vaemond and his guards having passed them, headed up the stone steps, inside the castle. Vaella sneered and made a move to leave when her uncle spoke up.

“A fight, before you leave?” His right eyebrow raised as he watched Vaella looking at him with an amused smile.

“I was given instructions not to engage in any provocation to a fight—”

“I wasn’t talking to you, niece—”

“Why? Are you afraid a woman might be able to defeat you?” Vaella taunted, raising her eyebrows and felt Luke trying to make her walk as Jace looked at Aemond with a glare. Their uncle chuckled but remained unphased by her words.

“I have unfinished business with my nephew, Luke.” Hearing his name, the boy tensed and looked at Vaella with pleading eyes, asking her to start walking back inside the castle.

“You have no—”

“Bona iksos olvie unfortunate, uncle.” (That is quite unfortunate, uncle.) Vaella cut off Jace as she switched to High Valyrian, smirking at her uncle as his jaw clenched. Without waiting for an answer, she leaned her head down between her brothers and smiled, “Let’s go steal some snacks from the kitchen.”

Jace snickered at his sister’s words as she started walking them, still holding onto her brothers napes, feeling Aemond’s eye on her, as she held her chin high and looked only ahead, refusing to make eye contact with him. She wished nothing more than to engage into a fight with him, kick him to the ground and point her sword at his neck, but her mother has asked her to behave and keep her brothers out of trouble as well. She didn’t want to upset the pregnant woman, therefore decided to walk away. The air was a bit tense between the three as they started ascending the stone steps and Vaella cracked a grin, glancing back towards where the small crowd was now dispersed but Ser Criston and Prince Aemond remained. She caught the eye of her uncle and immediately turned her head, jaw clenching at being caught looking. There was something very alluring about the man and she hated how her curiosity sparked after their interaction, sensing the distaste and hatred oozing out of Aemond as he looked at them yet dared not to touch them.

“Did you see the mistake he made?” Vaella spoke up with a vile smirk, recalling the slip up of her uncle.

“Who?” Luke muttered confused, glancing up at his big sister as Jace opened the doors for them, and Vaella finally released the boys from her firm hold. It was a tactic to keep them under control but it was also something she would quite frequently do; they didn’t mind it after all.

“Our uncle, of course. When his shield broke, he was distracted and almost toppled over.” Vaella chuckled and placed her hands behind her back, following her brothers down to the kitchen, “Cricket Horn almost got him—”

“Cricket Horn?!” Jace exclaimed outraged and Luke had to press a hand against his lips as his loud laughter broke out of him suddenly. Vaella tried to remain unphased but couldn’t help her own laughter bubbling up.

“Criston Cole, I thought of finding a more fitting name for him.” Vaella managed to say between her laughter and her brothers were now stopped and toppling over in laughter. She knew she was distracting them from their dire moods and felt content watching her brothers forget about the whole ordeal which has happened in the courtyard. They started coming up with more hilarious names as they continued their walk to the kitchen and Vaella listened to them amused, their versions getting more and more creative. It made her realize that they were still young and underserving of the accusations the Hightowers and their own family was bringing to them. It made her blood boil, but being here she knew she could keep them safe and away from harm. Even if that came in the form of their uncle, she could take the man, she wasn’t afraid. And she was certain she’d be able to defeat him too, his fighting combat being that of the usual she saw in battles. Her father made sure to teach her tricks and so did her masters at Pentos and Dorne, making her a very talented fighter. She took pride in that.

“You know,” Luke muttered as they reached the kitchen, “I thought uncle Aemond wouldn’t hold a grudge against me—I should’ve known better, Vaella. I’m too naïve.”

Vaella sighed and looked at Jace as he ruffled his brother’s hair, “You are not. Yes, your uncle lost a very important asset of his, but he should not hold a grudge against a child who was just trying to defend his own brother. Do not be afraid of him, Lucerys, he will not lay a finger on you.”

“Because you will have his fingers cut and fed to Silverwing?” Luke asked quietly, grinning up at his siblings. Jace chuckled and looked at his sister amused, knocking his shoulder into her arm.

“Have I told you that you are a fast learner?” Vaella raised her eyebrow and grinned at her brother with mischief. Luke nodded his head proudly and Jace clapped his hands together, looking eager to raid the kitchen now. He was starving for some sweets.

“Shall we go now?” Jace held the handle of the door and Luke nodded eagerly. Vaella leaned down and licked her lips.

“Remember, we must be quick and under no circumstance can be caught, yes?” Her brothers nodded, mischievous smiles on their faces. They would do this frequently at Dragonstone, raid the kitchen and take as many snacks as they could without being caught. Then they would run to their dragons and fly to the nearest island, which was just ten minutes away, and devour their snacks before going for a swim in the ocean, if it was warm enough that day. Vaella knew there was no island they could fly to right now, but she knew of a forest with a beautiful meadow not far from here. Rhaenyra was the one who had shown it to her and ever since then it became Vaella’s favorite spot in all of King’s Landing.

Jace started counting from one to three and when he pushed the door open, Luke and Vaella slipped inside, making a run for the table filled with snacks.

↳Next part

#bvidzsoo #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x oc #aemond targaryen enemies to lovers

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overtheimaginationwall · 9 months

Note

Favorite boss(es) in No Straight Roads?

Least favorite?

(Sincere apologies. I've been holding this one for more than a year in my box, so I hope you don't mind a really late reply ^^")

(Also Happy 3rd Anniversary, NSR!! 🎉)

I will tell ya honestly - they all are my favourites!

Tho if to be more specific I decided to set them up by TOP.

1. Sayu

Oh Sayu, my beloved <3

The Best Virtual Idol and The Reason I bought this game in the first place!

Her music and style of battle was the most fun and dancy! I still vibe to it to this day-

Sooo many references to Internet Culture and Digital Art fills my heart with warmth and gives me determination just like her song itself as well!

Funny Useless Fact: She is the only boss I've beaten on Rank B on my first blind playthrough!

2. DK West

He's OUR MAN, He's THE BEST!

My second favorite and at the same time the hardest for me to beat.

I personally didn't adore RAP genre at first and never seen anyone preform it as an actual entertaining battle until he showed up...

HOLLY MOLLY DESPITE ME BREAKING MY THUMBS WHILE GOING THROUGH THE PAINFUL DODGE GAME - HIM AND ZUKE RAPPING FELT LIKE I'M WATCHING DISNEY-

LIKE-

I STILL HAVE IDEA IN MY HEAD TO MAKE A SORT OF ANIMATIC WITH "FIRST ENCOUNTER" ALONE!!

Anyway, despite damaged fingers - 10/10, would fight again!

Funny Useless Fact: When I was drawing him for the first time I listened to his theme on loop for 4 days straight in order not to get myself distracted or lose motivation, so I finish the piece.

3. Yinu

Oh, sweet child...

I love Yinu and her theme lots even if I'm not that big of a fan of Classical Music. And her backstory...Gosh! It made me cry a lot.

And I'm still feel ashamed of breaking the piano ;;-;;

Love the pace of how music goes with the fight and it feels even better when you get into actual rhythm. There were issues that gladly wore off thanks to practice and fighting this boss over and over.

Tho those slamming cords haunt me whenever I listen to the song off-battle-

Funny Useless Fact: I didn't like her Mother at first but when I read more about her and relationship with Yinu my opinion completely changed. And this is why I would nominate No Straight Roads for The Best Storytelling and Character Design.

4. EVE

Two-faced, tall woman.

Used to be one of my favorites but due to some circumstances I can't look at her the same way I used to but I still adore her as a boss!

I honestly love her style of the fight and music that changes depending on who you play.

Tho fighting her is literally like eating a lemon but eventually you kinda just accept your fate and roll with weird artistic antics happening around you.

And EVE herself as a character is so fascinating. Like this is the moment where I started to see that these aren't just bosses, they are actually characters that tie this little but complex story together bit by bit. And this is why I would nominate No Straight Roads for The Best Storytelling and Character Design AGAIN!

Funny Useless Fact: EVE was supposed to be a next character to have a complete and detailed art of but due to my forgetfulness, difficulties with her design (and many other things) - it was never finished but I hope to get that dusty sketch out of WIP folder someday.

5. Tatiana

The Bitch. The Boss.

I don't really like her music and rhythm but I can forgive that since it is kind of fitting for conflict between her and the BBJ.

She tries to hide her true image throughout the story and the fight but ultimately crumbles cause escaping from the past isn't the best option to improve.

I love her design and personality and I wish there were more villains like her. Strict, simple, stoic and yet well-written.

Funny Useless Fact: I've never drawn Tatiana until NSR announced their release on Steam with addition of Fanat Graffiti Contest that I certainly didn't want to miss out on. It was difficult but I did it and ngl, I am still proud of the results.

6. DJ Subatomic Supernova & 1010/Neon J

I can't really say anything much about both of them. Sorry, guys...

Their designs and personalities are fun and well-made but due to one of them being the first you fight as "tutorial" and the other appears only at the end of a fight. (1010 band doesn't count as an actual boss to me more like a part of it) They didn't struck me much as the others did...

I will say this thou: their backstories are interesting. One is an academy astrology teacher with a goal of achieving the stars and other is a war veteran who just wanted everyone to live in peace and he himself despite everything never stopped his passion for doll-making and making people happy.

Just simply, beautiful...

Cool Science Fact: Their VAs are GOLD!

#sofiath ask #thanks for the ask!#no straight roads #nsr #nsr neon j #nsr djss #nsr sayu #nsr tatiana #nsr dk west #nsr 1010 #nsr yinu #opinion #sofiath thoughts

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subiysu-chan · 6 months

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Jean grasped his hands tightly in a gesture of prayer. He wasn't praying, though; he just waned to calm the trembling of his hands. Or at least hide it from other prisoners.

His back was one big mess of blood, and big, angry welts were splattered all over his body. The heat from all of them was radiating and spreading, so it was hard to tell where exactly was he struck. It was getting increasingly difficult to not cry.

It wasn't because of the pain, not really. Jean could take a lot more and not utter a sound. Or so he liked to think - it was one of the harshest pains he had to endure in his life. But oh, the humiliation... the way he had to be almost completely undressed in front of that man, and that he couldn't even defy him. He kept quiet through all the degrading comments, never once spoke out to defend himself or his honor, for his maman said there was an important politician observing his punishment. The wealthy always loved to watch torture happen. They could deny it all they wanted, but Jean knew - he saw the sadistic lust in their eyes more than enough to know just how much they enjoy the power rush. The man who watched him today was a personal case of revenge, though. Apparently, he had lost his nephew to the Sanson sword a few months prior, but frankly, Jean didn't care to remember.

Those were the things that had him nearly in tears. The walls he was building around himself for years almost crumbled under the pressure. It was always just his mother or teacher who hit him, and only his siblings occasionally saw it happen. But now, he had been laid bare before many eyes, and at least two pairs of them were sadistic monsters who have taken great joy in watching him suffer. Perhaps the silence was not just his way of maintaining the shreds of dignity he could still defend; it was the last bit of resistance he could use, his stubbornness.

The highest executioner in Paris crouched in the corner of his cell, his body trembling all over, and he didn't let out a single tear or noise, instead opting for digging his nails into his battered flesh. Perhaps it was his silence that broke his sanity.

You asked for Jean-Baptiste hurt comfort but his ass is NOT getting comforted. I knew he wouldn't shake and cower from pain, so I added some humiliation :) and losing faith in humanity. Uh, just a disclaimer that this is in no way sexual, he had just been tortured and it's based on your headcanon and now he is in a pitiful state, mentally worn out. Nothing hot about it.

Please don't tag this lol I don't want this shit to breach containment. Like, actually please. I feel stupid sending it to you even, sooo yeah it's a first step before I actually post anything ever. I feel like I have to put 27 disclaimers...

I can't and so probably won't do fluff or comfort for this man, in my eyes he has to suffer and find new ways to take more suffering. So you can stop asking ig.

Thanks ! You write very well. I won't tag it...

Jean-Baptiste...I think the reason he's there because he botched it. Also, be guess he's around 17 at this point.

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depressedbabymoms0424 · 1 year

Text

If I end up un-aliving myself…I just want everyone to know that I was soooooo tired. I was so tired of crying and wishing I was dead. Nothing makes me happy anymore not even my baby and he’s my world. I don’t think I can keep up with life I don’t see the value in it and I don’t feel like I belong here any longer. I’ve lived since 2003 I think I’ve had a long enough life it’s not like the world will crumble without me. I love god sooo much and I love Amir sooo fucking much but I wanna die just as much, maybe even more. Idk what to do the thoughts are getting overwhelming and I don’t know who to speak to. No one will understand me or be able to make me feel any better. Can’t get therapy or tell a doctor or they’ll take my kid I don’t need that on top of everything else. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here or how much more I can take. I don’t know who I am, I just feel like a soul in a body. Walking around, working, living, breathing, when none of it matters to me anymore. What am I doing here? Oh Allah if I took my own life will you forgive me?? You see all the pain that I’m going through would you blame me if I wanted to head back home a little early? I know Amir needs me but shouldn’t he rather have somebody who’s mentally, financially, emotionally stable. I don’t want him seeing mama cry all the time, I want to be strong for him but I have no strength.

If I do go through with this…Amir, mama loves you sooo much baby. I’ve been watching you grow since you were an embryo and watching you grow has been so amazing and so magical to witness papa, you are super super duper perfect! Perfect eyes, nose, lips, hair, perfect little laugh, and perfect little smile. Everything about you is how I imagined when I was pregnant with you. Sorry mama had to leave but she couldn’t stay. Always know that mama is watching over you, you might not have any memories of me but trust me we had a blast together time to time. Just me and you since the beginning, the perfect team! Pls don’t grow up thinking I didn’t love you and don’t think it’s your fault. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, you’re a blessing baby. You’re only 7 months and trying to walk. Wowww you’re super smart!! Never loose that determination and dedication you have when you put you mind to something, it’ll get you a long way I promise. Work hard like mama and stay in school for as long as you can it’s really going to come in handy. Chase after god, pray to Allah and worship him. He’s the closest connection you have to mama don’t loose this connection okay baby? Gosh I’m tearing up typing this up while you’re here sleeping next to me knocked out cold!😂 I’m sorry mama didn’t give you a home and a family. I tried with dada trust me I did, but no luck papa sorry 😢 mama is tired of trying, hopefully he comes around eventually. Don’t count on it tho he seems to have no interest in your life. Wether he comes or not you’ll always have me. I’ll try to stay a little longer to make sure you have some money, gold, and someone to watch you while I’m gone. I don’t want you to suffer like mama I want you to thrive! Okay? Walk around with confidence and your head high, be a good person and be humble. Stay strong papa no matter how hard it gets be strong! Pain is temporary. I love you papa, I’ll continue to give you kisses for as long as you live. I’m here baby all the time.

0 notes

xutokawa · 3 years

Note

ooooo the s/o finding scratch marks is sooo good:0 more pleaassseeee🤲🏻🤲🏻 maybe like samu and iwa too? but anyones fine really<33

pairings: osamu x reader, iwazumi x reader

genre(s): fluff to angst, cheating

warnings: langauge, cheating, allusions to smut

wc: 3k

» masterlist

a/n: hehehehehe yes!! thank you so much for requesting this. I got a little carried away and i really like how they turned out! hope you enjoy!

atsumu and oikawa ver.

kuroo and sakusa ver.

suna and bokuto ver.

akaashi and hinata ver.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Osamu

You sighed happily as you settled into your seat, getting ready for take off. Going home to Osamu after a two week business trip was the only thing on your mind, wanting nothing more than to run back home and into your boyfriend’s arms. Two more hours, and you would be in his warm embrace once again.

Little did you know while you fantasized about returning home to your first love, he was indulging in another, lowly moaning out their name, pushing the thought of you to the back of his head.

It wasn’t until you ran into Osamu’s arms at the airport did he start to feel the guilt creeping up from his infidelity. He knew it was wrong, to try and physically replace you for the time being. Osamu just missed your touch, seeking comfort any way he could. Seeing your burning smile, he decided he would never tell you. You were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and telling you of what happened would ensure that you would never be his again.

Once the two of you arrived back at your shared apartment, you immediately plopped down on your bed, exhausted from traveling. Osamu chuckled as he came behind you, laying down next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“How was your trip, baby?” Osamu mumbled into your hair.

“It was okay, I just mostly missed you the whole time,” you replied, snuggling into his chest. A pang of guilt hit Osamu once again. You had missed him as much as he missed you, yet all you could think about was waiting until you got home to him while he had given into his urges.

Seeing Osamu visibly troubled, you asked him, “I think the real question is if you’re alright, Samu.”

Startled, he quickly came up with a cover up, “Yeah, just tired from running the shop, same ‘ole things,” he sighed out.

Giggling, you got up, pushing Osamu to roll onto his stomach, straddling his lower back.

Chuckling along with you, Osamu asked, “What are you doing, babe?”

“Giving you a massage, duh? My poor boyfriend has been working so hard while I was gone. It’s only right to give him a massage as the best girlfriend in the world,” you joked, rubbing his shoulders.

“You don’t have to give me a massage to be the best girlfriend in the world, you’re already the best without trying,” Osamu chuckled into the mattress.

Rolling your eyes, you replied, “Stop complaining, Samu. Let me have an excuse to touch your muscles.” You started moving your hands lower on his back, lightly rubbing as you went down. Worried filled your features as Osamu let out a small hiss as your hands moved lower.

“What’s wrong, does it hurt there?” You asked, beginning to lift up his shirt. Panic flashed through Osamu as he realized his escapade must’ve left scratch marks on his back, quickly flipping you two around.

“It’s nothing, babe. C’mon, let’s go start preparing dinner,” Osamu nervously let out, hoping you would go along with his lie. He knew he hadn’t fooled you.

“Lift up your shirt, Samu, let me see,” worry evident on your face. You thought he had maybe gotten hurt at work, wanting to see the damage.

“Y/n, stop, it’s fine,” Osamu stated, his tone turning more pleading. You grew more and more suspicious. Why was he getting so defensive?

“Osamu, take your shirt off,” You said, standing up, crossing your arms. Osamu gulped, knowing you were getting serious using his full name.

“It’s fine, really, let’s just go get dinner, we can worry about my back later,” Osamu tried to divert your attention, hoping his final attempt would work. You didn’t buy it.

“I’m starting to think you’re hiding something from me, Samu,” you shot back, wondering what had him so adamant to not show you, “take your shirt off right now or I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight,” you threatened, hoping it would make him give in.

“I'll show you after dinner babe, let’s go,” Osamu said, standing up, walking to the door. Sighing, you gave in, following him out. Halfway to the kitchen, however, you grabbed the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up.

Your heart dropped at the sight.

No wonder this bastard didn’t want to show you.

Startled, Osamu whirled around, eyes wide as if he were a deer caught in headlights. Words began tumbling from his mouth.

“Wait, y/n, I know how it looks, but let me explain, please,” Osamu reached out to you, hurt flashing across his face when you flinched away from him.

“Don’t touch me, you cheating bastard,” You seethed out, eyes burning with a mixture of hurt and hatred, “I’m gone for two weeks and you go and fuck someone else?”

“No, y/n, please! I just missed you too much, but no one could ever replace you! I love you, y/n please!” Osamu continued pleading, eyes growing glassy at the thought of you leaving him.

“Oh shut up, Osamu. You’re not the only one in this relationship. Do you not think I missed you too? I wanted to be with you every second I was gone, but I didn’t go fuck someone else while I was gone,” you yelled out, tears welling up in your eyes.

Osamu walked closer to you, reaching out to you again, “I know, y/n, I fucked up, but please, we can work this out, you’re the only one for me-”

A loud smack sounded in the room as the sting settled on Osamu’s cheek. You began walking towards him, anger seething, “I’m the only one for you, huh? Tell me, Miya, did you fuck them right here? Did you fuck them on our bed?” An indescribable pain seared through Osamu at the use of his last name. Not giving him a chance to reply, you continued, “Or did you fuck them on our couch, the kitchen counter perhaps? You disgusting asshole!” You spat out the last word.

Osamu opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Tears flowed freely down both of your faces, both equally hurting.

“Please, y/n, I’ll do anything to make it up to you!” Osamu began sobbing. Darkly chuckling, you replied, “Do anything for me? How about you pack your shit and get the fuck out, Miya.” Osamu’s heart clenched, knowing he thoroughly fucked up.

“I can’t lose you, y/n. You mean everything to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, please don’t do this,” Osamu’s mind ran wild, not being able to handle you leaving him.

“Fine, if you won’t leave, I will,” you started for the bedroom, grabbing your suitcase you had yet to unpack from your trip along with your essentials. Osamu felt his world crumble around him as you brushed past him, walking towards the apartment door. He ran after you, grabbing your wrist as you were about to open the door.

Osamu’s eyes widened with shock as you whirled around, wrenching your wrist out of his hand.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me, Miya Osamu. Don’t you dare tell me you fucking love me, and don’t you dare try to tell me you wanted to spend the rest of you life with me,” you spat out, “because if you truly meant any of those things, you wouldn’t have fucked someone else while I was away, worrying if you were sleeping and eating properly, wondering if you were tired after running the shop.”

Osamu wanted the ground to swallow him whole. He crumpled as he watched the person he loved with his whole heart stare back at him with nothing but hatred in their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered out, not able to meet your eyes. Osamu never got a reply, the only sound he was met with was the door opening and slamming shut.

Iwazumi

The shrill tone of your cell phone ringing woke you up with a jolt. Groaning, you reached over to your bedside table, patting around for the familiar object. You rolled over to see the name ‘kawa (つω`●)’ flashing on your screen.

“What do you want, Oikawa,” you groaned into the phone.

“Y/n-chan, that’s no way to say good morning,” you could hear Oikawa pout through the phone. You looked over at your alarm clock, mentally cursing the setter for waking you up at 7:00am on a weekend.

“It’s too early for this,” you joked into the phone, “what did you need me for?”

“Y/n-chan, I have something I need to tell you,” Oikawa’s tone suddenly turned serious.

“What is it? It better be worth it,” you playfully teased, not catching onto Oikawa’s tone.

“It’s about Iwa-chan. I think it’s best if I tell you in person. Can we meet for lunch?” Oikawa asked. Curiosity and worry filled your mind as soon as the setter mentioned your boyfriend’s name. He was currently out playing with volleyball with his old high school friends.

Immediately sitting up, you ask, “Is he okay? He didn’t get hurt right? Aren’t you with him right now?”

“Well- he’s hurt, but not in the way you’re thinking. It’s just- let’s meet at lunch okay?” Oikawa sighed into the phone. After agreeing on a time and place, you get up, ready to start your day. You were excited about meeting Oikawa for lunch. The two of you grew close in high school, and he was the reason you were introduced to Iwazumi. You haven’t seen him in a while, only keeping in contact through occasional texts while he was in Argentina.

Soon enough, lunch time rolled around, and you were seated at a small cafe, waiting for the setter to show up. You wondered what he had to tell you, and what he meant by Iwa being hurt.

A cheerful “y/n-chan!” broke you out of your thoughts. Looking up, you saw Oikawa’s smiling face, although his eyes held a different emotion you couldn’t decipher.

“Kawa!” You got up to embrace him, “It’s so good to see you again!”

“I knew you’d miss me too much,” Oikawa teased, causing you to lightly push his shoulder as you chuckled.

“So what’d you need to talk to me about?” you asked as the two of you sat down. Oikawa’s expression immediately turned into a troubled one.

“I just want you to know, I care a lot for you, y/n, and I don’t want you getting hurt,” Oikawa started off, worrying you as he didn’t add a chan after your name.

“Yeah, of course, we’re best friends, Kawa, I only want the best for you too,” you said in confusion.

“This is a bit personal, but when was the last time you and Iwa, y’know, did it?” Oikawa sheepishly asked. You giggled at his expression.

“Hm, maybe two weeks ago? We’ve both been pretty busy lately, why do you ask?” you tilted in your head in confusion. Oikawa cursed under his breath, muttering something before looking up to you, his eyes suddenly holding a seriousness that made you shift uncomfortably.

“Look, y/n, you know how we were playing volleyball this morning?” you nodded in response. Oikawa nervously chewed on his bottom lip before continuing. “Well, while Iwa was changing, I saw he had scratch marks on his back,” pausing as he looked for a reaction. Your mind suddenly went blank.

There had to be an explanation, right? Maybe he just got hurt somehow.

“I’m only telling you this because I’ve been suspecting Iwa for a while now,” Oikawa started, “and when I asked him if you and him had a nice time last night, it was obvious he was lying when he replied to me. There’s no way he would just reply with a laugh and say yes. Usually he would have replied telling me to shut up, calling me shitty-kawa, and it just didn’t sit right with me.”

The voices around you became a blur as you processed this information. You knew for a fact you weren’t the one who put those scratch marks on your boyfriend’s back. You couldn’t believe it. Your Iwa, the Iwa that’s been with you since your second year at Seijoh, the Iwa that gave you butterflies anytime he smiled at you, the Iwa that would blush at your teasing, who held you tight on nights when everything seemed to have gone wrong, the Iwa who was always in your happiest memories.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until Oikawa hurriedly handed you some napkins.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I would’ve never thought Iwa would cheat. We both know his personality. I’m honestly really disappointed-”

“Where is he now?” You cut off the setter, looking down at the table.

“He went to go get lunch with Makki and said he’d go home after,” Oikawa said softly, looking at you with a worried gaze. “Are you okay, y/n?”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it,” you gave a weak smile. Oikawa easily saw past your smile, but decided not to push any further.

“I’ll drive you home, we can grab your stuff before he comes back, and you can crash at my place for the time being,” Oikawa softly said. With no energy left for words, you silently nodded as tears continuously streamed down your face.

Oikawa wouldn’t lie to you, not about something like this. You knew that, and that’s what made it hurt more. When did he even cheat on you? Was one of his late nights at work really just an excuse to be with another lover?

You hadn’t realized you made it back to your apartment until your car door suddenly opened. Looking up, you saw Oikawa standing, offering you his hand. Feebly, you took it as you got out with shaky legs. You couldn’t help but think about all of your memories shared with Iwazumi. How he sheepishly held out his hand the same way on your first date, how the two of you walked up to your apartment after signing the rental contract.

When the two of you reached your apartment, Iwazumi was nowhere to be found. Numbly, you went to gather your essential items as Oikawa began packing a small bag of your clothes to take. After you finished packing, you took a look at your apartment. A sob escaped your mouth as you looked around, only seeing the memories of you and Iwazumi. Tickle fights on the couch, countless nights cooking together in the kitchen, the late night movie and cuddle sessions.

“C’mon y/n-chan, let’s-” Oikawa’s voice was cut off by the sound of the door opening. You whipped around to see Iwazumi standing in the doorway, face filled with confusion.

“Kawa? What are you doing here? Why are you- y/n? What’s going on?” Iwa walked closer to you. “What happened, baby? Why have you been crying?” Iwa reached out to cup your face, hurt spreading on his features as you moved away from him.

“Turn around,” you stated.

“Wh-what, why? What’s happening?” Iwazumi’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Iwazumi, turn around right now,” you stated as even more hurt and confusion spread on the spiker’s face at the use of his full name. Slowly he turned around, not understanding the situation. Your hand trembled as you reached out for the hem of his shirt, only for your heart to be shattered as soon as you lifted his shirt. Red, angry marks ran down the length of his back.

Realizing the situation, your boyfriend turned around, guilt and worry evident in his eyes.

“Y/n,” he breathed out, “wait let-”

“Shut up. Stop talking,” you calmly stated, eyes hardening. Honestly, your calmness scared Iwazumi the most.

“Baby, please, wait, don’t leave. Let’s unpack your stuff and talk this through,” Iwazumi pleaded, eyes filling with tears as they darted to glance at the bags you and Oikawa were carrying. He needed to tell you it was all a drunken mistake, that he planned on proposing to you the coming week. You were his everything, he couldn’t let you go.

“I can’t believe,” you started, voice shaking, “you were willing to throw six years of memories down the drain.” Tears falling from your eyes.

“Am I that worthless to you, Iwazumi? Are our memories not enough for you? Am I not enough?” you quietly sobbed. Iwazumi’s heart clenched at your words. How could you think that? You were his whole world, his perfect match. Every moment with you was pure bliss to him, couldn’t you tell? Could you not tell that he would be completely lost without you?

“Y/n, no! That’s not it at all! Let me explain-”

Iwa made his way towards your sobbing figure before he was stopped.

“Get out of my way, Kawa, this isn’t any of your business,” Iwa snapped, eyes still trained on you as he desperately tried to reach you.

“No, it is my business. You hurt my best friend, Iwa-chan. I can’t let you continue hurting them.” Oikawa stated firmly.

“Get out of the way before I punch your pretty face, Kawa,” Iwa seethed. He needed to get to you before you got to the door, before you walked out of his life forever.

“Stop it, Iwa! You made a choice, and now you have to live with that decision for the rest of your life!” Oikawa raised his voice, his anger seeping through his words.

Iwazumi’s eyes finally met Oikawas. The setter could see the pain and regret in his friend’s eyes clear as day, only confusing him more. He could tell you meant everything to the spiker standing in front of him, so why did he do it? Why did he betray your trust?

Still staring at Iwazumi, Oikawa called out to you, “Let’s go, y/n.” Iwazumi’s gaze flickered to you, resolve crumpling as he truly took in your appearance. You looked so broken, hurt written all over your face. He was the reason you looked like that. He was the cause of all your pain.

“Please, y/n. Don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you,” Iwazumi’s voice cracked as you looked at you with pleading eyes, tears cascading down his face.

“I can’t, Iwazumi. It hurts so much,” you sobbed, turning around and walking out of the apartment.

All the life drained out of Iwazumi as he crumpled onto the floor muttering out a string of “I’m sorry”s. Oikawa cast one more glance at his best friends figure, whispering, “What happened to you, Iwa-chan?”

That night, two of Iwazumi’s best friends walked out of his life, never coming back.

3K notes · View notes

yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Text

[The End of the Tunnel]

[Abysmal Prince!Aether / Reader Submission]

Upon the heavy downpour, faint footsteps were heard, getting closer and closer until it prompts you to snap your eyes towards the source. Biting back a growl mixed whimper, your non-dominant hand unsteadily raises to your head, the pain. The pain is unbearable.

The pain feels like fire, searing into your head, grazing your brain with the unbearable heat, burning your thoughts into oblivion, it's harder to think, especially when all you hear is the crackling of fire as the flames grow larger and larger in your mind.

"Why... are you here..." a demand was heard, it was so distant that it echoed throughout the crumbling walls of the domain. Still gazing with narrowed eyes at the person across you, it only registered to you that you were the one who spoke.

The Abysmal Prince says nothing in response, staring you down. Although it lacks any anger unlike your gaze. You faintly recognize it.

Those golden eyes, ones that usually lack light of any kind, they shine for you. It's sickening. Eyeing the sword on his hand, he's warily staring you down as if you'd strike at any moment.

Hm...Sickening...?

Since when have you thought that? When was the time where the admiration and love turned into nothing but disdain and disgust?

Since when...

Ah, forget it. It doesn't matter anymore, this body isn't yours anymore.

...This body?

It's mine, It's mine, it's—!

Laughter... It started as a faint one, slowly... It explodes into a maniacal fit.

It almost fails to register in your mind, that the laughter was coming from your lips, not until your throat hints strain.

And finally, a voice cuts through, immediately silencing you.

He says something foreign, might be a word of some sort. It might be in another language, it's something very foreign to you, and yet why...

Why does it seem familiar...?

It's neither a command nor a spell, but it seems like a name.

At the back of your head, someone... hints something. It feels like someone was pulling you up, clawing your wrist in attempt to raise you above the murky waters. You can't swim, you can't move, you're not helping yourself up.

And so... It abandons you.

Across you, Aether's mind was brewing a turmoil, it pains him when you look at him with those eyes. Ones looking like you're staring at an enemy. Like you don't recognize him at all.

Your eyes flicker from their original color to something unfamiliar to him. As you blink, it keeps changing, as if you're keeping something from him, restraining some sort of unknown darkness yet knowing well that you cannot outdo something so celestial.

He says your name one more time, but he receives nothing but a look of confusion and contempt. Then it hits him.

You don't recognize your own name.

He says it again. Tightening his grip on his sword, slowly getting comfortable in his battle stance. He watches as your catalyst drop to the ground, shattering at the impact. You began to clutch your head with both hands. Crying out in pain, as fire began forming around you.

The rain did nothing to it. It keeps growing and growing-

In a flash, you disappear.

Looking around in panic, the Abysmal Prince searches for your presence. Holding his sword with both hands, he readies himself for a battle he never thought he'd have.

Hearing something above him, he snaps his gaze at the sound. You materialize before him, he manages to roll away before you could claw him down.

He watches as you slowly stand, blue flames starts at your feet climbing their way up as cracks in your skin begin to form, it reminded him of Dainsleif's right side. Yet yours is corrupted beyond repair.

Silently succumbing to something he'd never thought he would feel, he commands the slumbering ruin guards to stand against you.

And for a moment, just mere seconds away as the tip of the blade pierce your chest, your eyes flicker back to those hues he knows and loves.

And just like that, death comes to you.

There's not even a moment where he got to speak with you one last time, he knows that the impact is enough to make your eyes close forever.

He holds you close, the rain silently hides his flowing tears, he vows to you that Khaenri'ah would rise from the ashes once more, that it would see the light of the day, reach the end of the tunnel, close the book to the happy ending you both deserve.

---

HHH hi i love your works sm, the angst is *aggressive chef's kiss* FDKGHJDKGJ i love the fact that reader dies a lot too KJDHSJKDG so i'd like to share this 3am piece <3 (i honestly don't know what to call myself, i guess just clyde is enuf)

OMG I DID NOT EXPECT AN ABYSS PRINCE AETHER SUBMISSION BUT I KNOW MANY WHO'D BE SCREAMING WHEN THEY SEE THIS THANK YOU @lehra food sweetie

Hello there!! Eheh thank you so much for appreciating my works, Clyde! May you bless us with more food, because damn this is so well written more than what I do, the way you write the reader's consciousness dilemma is sooo good!

#exiled community #genshin impact #submission #genshin impact x reader #aether x reader #gender neutral #angst #Clyde #exile.flower

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ateezinmymind · 3 years

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Rocker! Hongjoong x reader

angst, fluff ending

tw: smoking, drugs, alcohol, foul language, vomit, depressive symptoms, sexual harassment and toxic behavior—please don’t read if sensitive!! I don’t condone these acts <3

~you wanted to be more like him and less like you

~“fuck off! I don’t want to see that shit-face of yours again!!” ~

Tears streaming down your face, staining the flesh with a trail of black from your running eyeliner. You can’t get those last words out of your head, taking in a breath of smoke, and exhaling through your nose. Trying to ease the pain of abandonment—you contemplate what you’re going to do now.

Standing up from the concrete staircase you’ve been sulking on for the past 15 minutes,, burning out your cigarette—you make your way down to the only place you can think of..

The blaring sounds of screams and cries piercing your ears—the smell of alcohol and smoke,, bodies together,, this...this was it. This was where you could let go...let loose..and live.

“I am a cancer. I am a creep. I am the black sheep”

Hearing those booming lyrics-you look up to the stage. Finding the lead singer screaming into the mic—and bouncing with his guitar. From the eyeliner to his ripped-chained pants..you were sucked into a void. Eyes burning from the atmosphere,, head pounding—now heart aching. You couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Hey baby..can I get you something?” —snapping out of your self destructing trance, you look up to the raspy voice speaking to you.

~“Let me buy you a drink...you here alone?” ~

The buzzing effect in your body-taking you away..you felt numb. You didn’t feel right,, blurred vision, limp body—you were useless. Feeling your head being shook and lightly slapped, trying to blink your way to clear sight—you started to fade..

hearing the lone sounds of laughter and booms—everything felt underwater. You couldn’t quite see, hear or breathe. Maybe this was what you needed..no one loved you anyway. For fucks sake-you got kicked to the curb tonight—by your shitty once called boyfriend. Who which you caught cheating—and to which led to you being pushed out the door-with nothing but a pack of cigarettes and a twenty dollar bill.

You were drowning,, choking, needing air. Desperate..everything turning black,, it was what you deserved... until—

“Hey bitch!!”

jerking conscious from the ice water—wet, cold and vulnerable..you’re surrounded by big figures. Your body finally awake, the smell of the place hits you like a truck. Only causing your body to respond naturally—meaning dry heaving. Choking—you weakly stand up to be towered by the looming men. Clutching your stomach—you needed the bathroom, slapping your hand over your mouth to control the potential mess. You wobble forward..clearing a path to your destination— All while the lead singer watches you from afar....

Barging into the bathroom you’re met with a couple making out by the sinks, and the stench of regurgitated essence. Only causing the feeling in your stomach and throat to worsen..abdomen convulsing you knock through the stall—and spill your guts. Face flushing from the lack of air—your nose and throat burn, and your stomach churns with sickness. Flushing your vomit down the toilet—your mind hazes once again...and soon enough you black out against the stall wall—helpless.

———

Hongjoong hasn’t seen you come out of the bathroom for the past 20 minutes..he was starting to get anxious himself. But he still had to finish his last song before ending tonight’s show-

“You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick”

The bright lights—beaming all different tones of red and blue. He lived for the stage, the rush of adrenaline when the whistles and screams came. Hongjoong was meant for the spotlight—his soul voice, talent for the guitar-and his aura in all. He was a performer,, meant to please his audience—and when he saw you come in tonight, all ragged, sad and helpless. He couldn’t stop watching you, you were everything he wasn’t. And when those men spiked your drink—he wanted to kill them so badly, but he didn’t want to risk his place.

Sweat pooling down his face, hongjoong finishes the last song—

“Everyone wants a ride. pulls away, ooh—from you”

The screams from people lungs, the jumping of bodies close together, and the sweet sweet feeling of glory—all lasts for a second....

Jogging down the hall towards the women’s bathroom, Hongjoong gets stopped in his tracks. A girl extremely tipsy, reeking of alcohol puts her hand on his chest. “Heyyy..youurrr, yyou’re that s..singer guy...” trying to push her away—she only falls to her knees. “Excuse me—move” not understanding his words she squeezes hongjoongs thighs, then wraps her dirty fingers around his pants chain and pulls him forward. “S..Stop being sooO difficult..lemmeee make youu feel g..GOood” rubbing him she fiddles with his zipper

“What the fuck! Get off me bitch!” Pushing her head back she lands on her ass, and hongjoong steps over her with disgust. “Go give some other fucker a blow” taking a deep breath, he tries calming his raging thoughts of the drunk woman. Speed walking to the bathroom, barging through the door he screams at the couple grinding on each other “GET THE FUCK OUT!!-“

sending them running away, he sees your bare legs from under the stall. Pushing it open-he wants to hurl, but seeing you unconscious he swallows the urge down. “Hey-babe?” Shaking your limp body, causing your head to slide off the wall and hang down. Quickly hongjoong holds your neck in place and examines your face and body.

Your damp hair and top-makes him curse under his breath...how dare someone put something so fragile through hell? Why did he feel the need to help you so bad? Was it because of your differences...that he felt the need to protect you. And harm all the people who decided to put you down, and treat you like shit..

Trailing his eyes down, hongjoong sees your legs-scraped, cut and bruised, then he can’t help but notice your attire. The big T-shirt dress wasn’t doing its job in covering your lower half well, when sprawled on the bathroom floor, so he decided to help,,picking you up and taking you to somewhere safe...

———

The shooting feeling of your head pulsing caused you to wake finally conscious.. not knowing where the hell you were. Under the sheets of an unknown bed, surrounded by band equipment-you started to panic. Breath staggering-heart racing, eyes tearing up you quietly sobbed.

What did you do?? You’re in a strangers bed, and who knows what they did to you. Wiping your eyes you look down—dressed in a loose navy shirt, and boxer shorts...definitely not what you wore yesterday. Sniffles fill the empty room, and the smell of your hair comes to realization. Shit..someone really cleaned you up..

Heaving in a sharp breath—you feel your heart speed up..shit~not now..you can’t lose your mind right now. Someone can come get you-and you’ll be defenseless and weak against them. Ripping at your legs—trying to feel your way back to yourself through pain..you just whimper. Taking your head between your hands, hanging low—tears fall on the bed covers. The sounds of your sniffling cancel out the foot steps advancing your way through the hall-

“Hey~you’re awake”—jerking your head up to the mans voice..you immediately regret it, because your skull jolts in a jabbing pain. Making you cry out and curl in a ball, holding your head. “Wo..woah,, you okay babe?!” Hongjoong speeds to your suffering self. He didn’t know what to do..looking at the sheets and seeing your tear droplets..he can’t help but scoff. You have problems, it’s unreal...how can someone be so destroyed—physically and mentally??

Unscrewing the lid to the cool water bottle he brought in, he sits himself next to your hunched self. Placing his hand on your soft hair, he gently brushes strands out of the way..so he can see your face. “I know you probably have a million things on your mind right now..but I need you to drink some water-please” the mans voice somehow soothing the tightness in your chest, you open your eyes

His damp hair covering his eyes, his gentle hands gripping the water—you weakly slowly started to make your body lift.. eyes continuously leaking tears, you gently reach for the bottle. Slightly grazing his hand, you quickly look into his brown orbs in apology. “Sorry—” Just from talking to him out loud you feel pressure coming up again. Heaving in a deep breath-trying not to crumble again already just in the span of minutes, “what am I doing here?”

As Hongjoong watched you take a swig of water he softly reached his hand with nails painted black to wipe your cheek of tears. “Well...you were unconscious—so I wasn’t just going to leave you there like a shithead..” gulping, and putting the cap back on the empty bottle you take in his words. Your body being overwhelmed with awkwardness, you cover your face and whine. “You b-bathed me..and put me into n-new clothes..”

hearing Hongjoong chuckle out, you quickly uncover your face with shock. Why was he laughing at you?!! What did he do?? “Don’t worry~ I didn’t do anything to you,, just cleaned you up...I wouldn’t make moves on a someone not aware of their own decisions..” looking back down to your legs your mind begins to turn against you once again...

~Of course he wouldn’t do anything to you..no one would want to anyways. You don’t deserve anything, because you’re no good for anything.~

“Are you okay??” Cupping your head, you slowly give him a nod..eyes pooling with warm fresh tears. You blink away the blurriness, trying to calm down and speak again. But all you do is choke out a broken cry, “I s-shouldn’t be here...I don’t even know you, I don’t know where I am...and I-“ looking away from him, staring at your bandaged legs. Droplets falling onto your skin, you sniffle and realize your once broken skin that was decorated with cuts and bruises were now covered and protected.

“I understand..please forgive me, I’m hongjoong..I’m the lead singer and guitarist from the band you heard playing last night-“ lifting your head by your chin, he gives you the softest look. “y-yes I recognize you..I’m y-y/n-“ finally giving you a bright smile, and taking the bottle from your grip Hongjoong slides off the bed. “So what’s your story?-“

———

Walls broken down—exposed to the male you only just met a week ago...you’re starting to feel not so drifted from the world. Slowly regaining and healing...all thanks to him, all thanks to the person who is the complete opposite of you. He’s given so much to your little self, and you took the time, to breathe....take in the good and actually find meaning to live. Overcoming cruelty that fed the blazing fire which spiraled your self valuing into the pits of hell..

he saw you when you were drowning, in need of help.. and made you feel worth living for. With Hongjoong, there would be no more doubt, he..the man in the spotlight, chose you....

Who would’ve thought you’d turn up here.

Where this new beginning started....

But only this time, you weren’t in it alone....

“Before we start up tonight, I want to introduce an important person.” adrenaline coursing, blinding lights, aggressive shouting and screaming filled the hall... “Everyone, this is Y/n...”

————————————————————————

tagging my wife @hongjoong-a-holic 🥺

~this is kinda a mess...don’t really know what I was doing....I’m sorry

lyrics from: black sheep by palaye royale + black sheep by kailee morgue!!⭐️

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apollostears · 3 years

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NEEDED ME [ k. bakugo ]

anime: my hero academia

pairing: bakugo x black!fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, drugs, under the influenceness, underage drinking

plot: attending your first college party should be fun but first you have resolved friend drama to handle. or...is it more complicated than that?

note: this is a college au! where after high school, the students attend UA University before entering the hero world. this is also apart of my lil series i’m working on with bakugo and an oc that isn’t out yet but will be!

the large frat house was packed with young adults by the time the three girls had shown up. it was their first, off campus party with some local college a few miles away from them. y/n was nervous but excited and grateful to sero for scoring them access to such a stacked event.

“do you see anybody?” momo asked loudly over the bass-thumping music.

mina and y/n shook their heades, keeping their eyes peeled for any familiar faces. the party started at ten, but it was midnight when the girls showed up. mina claimed that it helped draw attention to them, which isn’t what the other two wanted.

however, y/n had to admit that mina wasn’t a liar. most people had started to bring their attention to them as they moved through the crowd to a more spacious area. she spotted todoroki’s two-toned hair somewhere in the crowd and the closer she got to him, the better she was able to identify where he was.

“i see todoroki in the kitchen. maybe he’s with the others.” she announced over her shoulder, continuing to head his way.

sure enough, there was todoroki with midoriya, ochaco, tsu, and tokoyami. “heyyyy guys! you finally made it!” ochaco greeted the three girls, wasting no time in pulling them into a hug.

y/n noted how she already smelt a bit like alcohol, not too much but enough to make her tipsy. she was a bit surprised to smell it on the preppy girl but figured ochaco would end up trying it sometime in their college career.

“eekkk you guys look sooo cute!! i can’t believe you managed to get tokoyami and todoroki out here. have you seen anyone else from our class?” mina asked, maneuvering her way through the kitchen to get some drinks for her friends.

y/n went to stand by todoroki, squeezing her way into his corner as she waited for her drink from mina. the kitchen wasn’t as crowded as the rest of the house but there was still a good amount of people in there. while her friends talked, she wondered if bakugo was there. he had been acting weird since they last spoke, when they argued over her ‘relationship’ with shindo.

she couldn’t tell if he was mad at her for blowing him off to spend time with the boy in her class but if he was, she didn’t understand why. bakugo used to blow her off all the time whenever kirishima or the boys wanted to hang. sure, it sucked at first but she didn’t make a big deal about it.

this whole situation was so weird to her and she wanted it to be over with.

“so, are you and bakugo still not talking to each other?” todoroki asked, starting his own private conversation with the girl next to him.

y/n paused in her response, grabbing the drink from mina and taking a sip before speaking. “uh yeah, i guess we still aren’t on the best of terms.”

“and it’s bothering you?”

“well yeah. bakugo’s like my bestest friend and if he isn’t talking to me then i don’t know what the fuck to do.”

the others had filtered out of the kitchen, choosing to either go search for their friends or mingle with new people. y/n felt a headache coming from stressing over her situation with bakugo and from the loud music ringing in her ears.

“maybe you should talk to him. he’s been staring at you for the past five minutes now and honestly, it’s a little creepy.” todoroki advised, motioning his head to the area across from them.

sure enough, bakugo was standing by the wall in the living room. drink in hand and an intense glare on her, one that didn’t seem to be breaking any time soon.

rolling her eyes at his stalkerish behavior, she thanked todoroki for his advice and made her way through the crowd to him.

“so what? you was just gonna stare at me the whole night?” y/n asked, cutting straight to the point when she stopped in front of the boy.

bakugo sucked his teeth before drinking from his red cup. “saw you talking to icy hot. didn’t wanna interupt anything.” he muttered, suddenly looking anywhere but at her.

“please, like that has ever stopped you before. i don’t like this katsuki.” she said, giving him an annoyed look to get her point across.

wordlessly, bakugo pushes off the wall and grabs y/n by the forearm. “lets go outside.” he said softly, leaning close to speak in her ear.

she nodded, following him outside of the busy house and onto the front lawn. there were frat guys kegging, trash loitered about, and some kids running through a makeshift slip n’ slide drunk off their asses.

“why are you upset with me suki?” y/n questioned as soon as bakugo had let her go and stopped walking.

bakugo sighed and finished the rest of his drink, crumbling up the cup with little effort, tossing it in one of the trash bags laying around. y/n assumed it was the fraternity’s attempt in trying to encourage trash cleanup by the partygoers.

“this shindo kid...i don’t like him for you.” he spoke seriously, looking y/n right in the eye to convey his sincerity.

y/n raised an eyebrow inquisitively, finding it difficult to believe that that was his reason for acting like such an asshole the past few days. “are you serious?”

bakugo’s sincere look quickly turned into one of irritation at y/n’s lack of trust in his words. “i didn’t fucking stutter.” he bit.

“you don’t even fuckin know him! we’re literally just work partners, i don’t understand where all this hostility is coming from. it’s fuckin ridiculous katsuki.”

bakugo let out something akin to a growl as he aggressively kicked at some trash before him in an attempt to let out some aggresion. “he looks at you like you’re an easy fuck! and you’re walking around without a care in the fucking world while he plots to make a move!”

y/n stared at him, mouth agape and eyes wide, shock was written all over her face. everything bakugo was saying kept sounding more and more out of pocket. “is you smokin dick or something? shindo and i are. friends!!! get that through your head because the way you’ve been acting towards me these past few days has been completely out of character! like what the fuck?!”

“you don’t get it do you? you’re so goddamn dumb that you really don’t see it. he doesn’t want you y/n! he wants your body and i’m trying to save your dumbass from making a mistake!” bakugo argued, his hands beginning to sweat nitroglycerin the hyper he got.

y/n laughed dryly, amused at bakugo’s ability to act like he knew what was best for everybody and that all his friends needed him, whether they knew it or not. “see. that’s it! right there! that’s the shit i be talking about. you talk like you got a fuckin god complex! like we need you to protect us. well guess what bakugo, i don’t need you. i don’t need you to tell me what to do. i don’t need you policing who i can and can’t be friends with. i don’t need you acting like you’re my boyfriend when you’re supposed to be my friend!”

y/n’s tone of voice garnered some looks from the people around them but she didn’t care. she was fed up with bakugo’s overprotective nature. it was fine in high school because she figured it would pass once they got to college, but it’s clear now that he’ll always see her as something he has to protect. and that wasn’t how she wanted to live her life.

for a moment, bakugo looked hurt. defeat in the air and a certain sadness in his eyes, it made y/n realize her mistake but it was too late. the damage was done.

“you’re right, i’m not your boyfriend but i’m not your friend either.” his voice was low and calm but even y/n could tell that he was genuinely hurt by what she said.

“shit katsuki, i’m sorry—”

“don’t. don’t call me that. you’ve lost that right.” bakugo had cut the girl off coldly, an icy glare masking the true pain that he felt in that moment.

i mean...how else are you supposed to feel walking away from the love of your life?

unable to come up with anything meaningful, y/n just watched as her best friend walked away from her and out of her life. i do need him. maybe more than he needs me.

❧ join our taglist: @simplyskz-maya @pimpnameyannie @supop @exomama-random @sunrayyellowhalo @knjkitten @namjoonswifeyy @sweeneyblue1

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matildaofoz · 4 years

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Memento Mori (Michael Langdon x FemDeath!Reader)

Decided I needed to write a little of what I’ve been thinking of for a new Michael x Reader insert. Let me know what you think and I might continue. :)

Warnings: Blood, Hallucinations, Violence, Ritual Sacrifice

“You tell me what to do or you let me die here!“ Michael fell to his knees in the middle of the upside down pentagram he had drawn into the pine needle covered ground.

You watched, immaterial as the hours dragged by, day turning to dusk and night. You had to hand it to the boy, he was persistent. You knew he'd arrive one day on this earth and yet you felt oddly sentimental as you watched his unwavering spirit slowly crumble.

On day 4, the hallucinations set in. The pain and confusion on his face were like a theatre production on the big stage. Oh how clueless he was. So much guilt, you could taste it on your tongue. Throughout it, he remained steadfast, sunken eyes and stubble only adding to the pathetic picture he painted. Daddy wouldn't lift a finger. No, so it fell to you to yet again to sift through the chaos.

“Leave me alone,” he answered the vision before the next came washing over him.

“You're not real, n-n-none of this is re-real,” his voice broke as he looked around completely lost.

The Antichrist, covered in grime and dirt after sitting in the forest, waiting for a reply that wouldn't come. If it weren't so utterly heartbreaking, you'd laugh. The only problem was, that this was prophecy and right now that prophecy sat like a sad little lump on the ground, smelling to the heavens, waiting for his absent father. You couldn't bare to watch any longer. Maybe a little good omen would lift the boy back on his feet so you decided to conjure up a little something of your own. After some thought, you smirked. It didn't mean you couldn't have a little fun while steering Lucifer's offspring into the right direction.

You decided on what form to take and Anton LaVey might just do the trick.

“Don't listen to her, you've done a great job,” LaVey's voice boomed.

“No! I've failed! I'm lost, I don't understand my purpose!” Michael heaved. Sooo little faith, you nearly groaned.

“You're everything we expected. The alpha and the omega. Who is, who was and who is to come.”

“Liar!” Michael roared and grabbed your hallucination by the neck in an impressive display of strength. Yet you began to lose patience and you have had eons of that. Maybe this whole show needed a little more symbolism, after all that's what started all this. With a flick of your invisible wrist an Angel appeared in front of Michael then, the embodiment of everything holy. You nearly gagged at your own theatrics.

“God loves you,” the Angel rumbled, wings spread out behind him and Michael fell back onto the soft forest floor, repelled. Bingo.

You'd hoped he'd bite the bait of the black horned goat. And boy did he bite.

“Are you my father?” he asked sincerely, hope gleaming in his teary gaze. You winced. Maybe you had overdone the whole holy/unholy aspect of this intervention.

Of course he'd see his father in a bloody goat. Whatever it took him to get his sweet ass off the ground and moving toward his prophecy. You'd take it. With a bleat, the goat replied, empty eyes staring at Michael.

Michael produced a ritual knife out of his back pocket and with a conviction you thought he didn't possess, he stabbed into it's neck, splattering him and the forest floor in warm blood. One eyebrow shot up appreciatively. So much anger, so much hate for daddy dearest. Why did everything always boil down to daddy issues, you mused as your invisible form came to stand beside Michael watching as he ripped the horns out of the skull, snakes slithering out the gaping holes.

“What do you want from me! What am I supposed to do?! What the fuck am I supposed to do?” Michael screamed at at the top of his lungs and fell to his knees, exhausted.

You rolled your eyes, wasn't it obvious? You felt the scene you had painted made that perfectly clear.

You crouched beside him, unseen, unfelt and whispered: “What you were born to do.” With that, your immaterial fingers slipped into his subconscious and planted the thought of where to head next.

He could use some company and you knew just the place.

#michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you #michael langdon #ahs apocalypse

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my-hero-hcs · 4 years

Note

Can I request some hcs for Todoroki, Bakugou and Deku where the reader is really shy and they both really like each other but have no idea how to tell each other, and the reader gets really hurt so they end up confessing? Thank you sooo much!! And I love all your writings!! ❤️💕

A/N: y e s I know this is slightly angst but I live for this stuff omg-

Yeah this is gonna be slightly angsty I do apologise

Hurt Confessions

Bakugou

Bakugou absolutely adored you. Not that he’d ever say it like that, but nonetheless, it was true.

He really did adore you.

Little did he know, you felt the same way.

Your shyness around the explosive boy though kept you from voicing your feelings.

Then the attack happened.

Villains seemingly came out nowhere, and they straight for you.

Your scream was something Bakugou would never, ever forget.

You were hurt, bad, and Bakugou saw red as he attacked them head on, despite the warnings the pros yelled at him, as they engaged the fight too.

It went by in a blur, he honestly didn’t remember much in his rage filled state.

Now, he was seated next to you, only a bandage or two on his face and arm. He was fine!

But you?

4 broken bones, deep cuts, and severe trauma to the head.

How was he supposed to deal with this?!

He adored you! Recovery girl was doing her best, but even still in his mind there was a chance you would die.

That same panic from the fight settled in his gut at that realisation.

He gently took your hand, as you started to wake up from all the trauma.

You could hear him, but your body felt stiff and stuck, like you couldn’t wake up completely.

You felt Bakugou hold your hand, and waited as he started speaking.

“Damnit you’d better come back to me, because I fucking love you. You can’t die on my now, dumbass. I still have to take you on that damn date!”

You tried to smile, but you couldn’t- the most you managed was to move your fingers slightly in his hand.

That was enough for him to know you were there, that you heard him.

“You’d better fucking fight to live. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Todoroki

Todoroki sat over his bowl of soba, and slurped his noodles in a nice cafe in the city.

Midoriya, Ochaco, Momo, and you had decided to go out today, for fun.

So far, everything was going well!

That is, until the villains showed up.

Guns were pointed at customers, while they cowered behind tables and chairs, and the villains when right for the money.

You, however, noticed a child hurt on the floor from one of the falling tables as people scrambled to hide behind them.

Todoroki turned and noticed you were gone, panic setting in as you scooped up the child and started to run back to them, as one of the villains grabbed you.

You let off a growl of rage as you tried to fight off the villain, fearless as every as you cradled the child.

Todoroki’s blood ran cold as he shot ice, to save you, but it was too late.

The sickening crack of a bone breaking and your cry of pain was enough to send him spiralling.

Izuku rushed forward and took the child, nodding to Todoroki to attack-

-Just as the villain dropped you, your head smacking the tile floor with the thud of dead weight.

He ran to grab you, as the pros showed up, taking out the villain.

He laid over you, protecting your limp body as a support hero came to take you to the hospital.

That evening, Todoroki sat with you, along with Midoriya.

He just held your hand, and fought bad tears.

He hadn’t even told you he loved you!

He gently set your hand down on the bed, and buried his face in his hands.

You stirred softly, catching Midoriya’s attention as you started to wake up

Todoroki’s broken voice filled the room as your eyes began to open.

“I love you.... please, don’t leave me yet.”

You couldn’t help but smile, and respond, voice raspy and hurt.

“I.... love.... you.....”

It was barely above a whisper, but he heard you.

Doctors rushed in to check on you, add to your pain meds, and sedate you once again to heal, but it was enough. You loved him too.

Midoriya

Izuku watched you sip your boba tea as you walked along the street.

The two of you had gone out together to go sightseeing, along with interview at different hero agencies for internships.

It was a nice warm day, and the soft beano couldn’t help but think of you as beautiful.

The way the sun caught in your hair, and your eyes gleamed, it was perfect.

He really did adore you, and he planned on confessing to you that evening.

That is, until the accident.

There was no villain, no evil doer, and no malintent, but it still scared the shit out of Izuku.

The two of you were taking a shortcut through an old alleyway where the holdings were falling apart, and crumbling.

You, being the investigative spirit you were, decided you wanted to look inside.

Dragging Izuku behind you, you started to explore one of the old abandoned buildings- but that’s when it happened.

An old support beam cracked and fell, hitting you and knowing you over.

You were covered in scrapes, brusies, and splinters from the old cracked floor, and the heavy beam did a number on your chest, and cracked your ribs. Not only that, but you smacked your head against the floor, and immediately went unconscious.

Izuku panicked

This poor boy lifted the beam off you, and started carrying you, trying to find someone who could help you as he ran to the hospital.

There you lay, as he held your hand, and sniffled. He’d called his friends and told them what happened, and they were on their way to meet him.

He sighed, and looked over you.

If only he’d been faster- he could’ve stopped this.

If only he’d been better- he could’ve saved you!

He then started rambling to calm himself down, and to stop his spiralling thoughts.

You started to wake up to the sound of him talking, and opened your eyes.

You didn’t dare move- the pain was excruciating if you tried, so you laid there.

He then paused, and took a deep breath.

“You know I planned on confessing to you tonight, and telling you how I feel. I.... really love you. And I can’t lose you. Please just... wake up for me.”

You hummed softly, and even that hurt. But it was enough to grab his attention.

He about cried with relief, and looked you over.

“I promise, I’ll be your hero.”

As your body pulled you back to sleep, your only thought was:

“You already are.”

#shouto todoroki x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou x reader #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha shouto x reader #bnha shouto todoroki #bnha izuku midoriya #bnha katsuki bakugou #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #mha imagines #mha headcanons #mha x reader

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lokiwritess · 4 years

Text

Gone - Obi-Wan Kenobi

Sooo... this is dramatic (except the end?) Lemme know what you think? It’s def not my fav thing

"...Survived, he has not." Yodas last words knocked the wind out of your lungs. Obi-Wan Kenobi, General and Jedi Master had not survived his injuries. He was gone. You would never see his face again, nor would you ever hear his voice or feel his presence near you in the force.

The force, which buzzed with negative emotions from the people around the room. They rushed into your mind like waves, making it harder to breathe than it already was. Panic spread in your body, making you think you would suffocate on these emotions.

It became all you could focus on, with Yoda's words echoing around in your head. The room, the people around you - it all seemed to slip away until it was nothing but a muffled noise somewhere else.

"Y/n?" Ahsoka's gentle voice startled you. It forced you out of your trance, back into reality. She watched as you turned your head to her, eyes empty, void of all emotion other than shock.

It should have been you. It should have been you that died. He was a general, a master. You were only another Jedi Knight, assigned to help him out. Now, who would be the one to lead the 212th? Who was going to tell them - tell Commander Cody - that their leader was gone? Or did they already know?

Ahsoka flinched slightly at the emotions radiating from you. She was determined to help, to do something. She couldn't help her own master - force, Anakin didn't talk to anyone and barely looked at her - so she at least wanted to try with you. But somehow she knew that her words would make no difference. They wouldn't ease your pain and they wouldn't bring Obi-Wan back home. Yet words were all she had to offer at the moment.

"I'm so sorry." Thankfully, your half shut-down mind reacted for you, before you even grasped the words that had come out of the Togrutan's mouth. As the wall of numbness that you had built around you crumbled, your feet instinctively whirled you around and moved you out of the room. That way at least, no one saw the way your heart broke. No one saw the pain in your eyes.

Nothing seemed to matter anymore. The Jedi Code called upon Jedi to accept death as inevitable, a normal part of life. But how could you ever accept that Obi-Wan was gone?

_________________________________

The Commander of the 212th had tried his best to reach you, somehow. But how do you help someone that doesn't want to be helped? Suddenly, you were in charge of the 212th, thrust into a new situation when you could barely stand to be around people. Suddenly you were expected to keep fighting in the war when your biggest fight yet was to get out of bed in the mornings. Even Cody - bred on Kamino to value duty and rules above anything else - always knew the way that you and Obi-Wan looked at each other was special. He knew the way you felt about each other, even if no one mentioned it.

You adhered to the rules; But the looks exchanged between you and the small gestures of love you'd shared, like brief brushes of your hands in passing or checking on each other after complicated missions: they spoke of mutual affection.

"I don't know what else we can do.", Ahsoka admitted quietly.

You could feel their eyes on you as you sat in the empty corridor. You had your arms wrapped around your knees, trying to shut out the feeling of worry each of them held. Cody looked at Anakin, trying to look for guidance where there was only a mask, hiding the Jedi's true feelings.

"This behavior is extremely dangerous, Sir."

"I'll take care of it.", Anakin spoke up.

He didn't say anything else, but at least he spoke at all, Ahsoka noted. Anakin had been dealing with his grief over his former Master in a similar way than you had - which was not at all and preferably alone. To an extent, hearing his voice was almost a shock, especially to hear it laced with such worry and an underlying softness.

Anakin didn't care if the other two were watching. He sat down against the wall, right next to you, taking your focus off of Ahsoka and Cody. Instead, your focus was drawn to his presence. You were almost taken aback when you felt how exhausted he really was. But the utter loneliness he felt resonated with your deepest and darkest feelings, making you sigh involuntarily.

Quiet ruled the space between you for a moment, as Anakin struggled with the right words to use. But he knew the truth. "I know that no matter what I'm going to say, it won't make it okay.", he started carefully, one hand coming up to rest on the side of your arm. "But you're not alone. I'm right here. That's all that matters right now."

Anakin had always been your friend since you met him when he was a little boy. He was like family to you. But more important than anything else: He was the only one in a position to truly understand your feelings. He was after all Obi-Wan's former padawan. Ahsoka and Cody could only watch as you broke into tears, finally crumbling, finally letting yourself feel again. Sobs racked through your body, as Anakin pulled you against his chest and firmly wrapped his arms around you. He put his chin on the top of your head with a sigh.

"I understand. I miss him too."

At Anakin's words, your sobs grew harder, and he reacted by pulling you even closer and saying nothing more. It would take time for you both to heal from losing someone so close to you. And even though you both instinctively shut down and shut everyone else out, you somehow knew deep down that Obi-Wan would want neither of you to go through this alone.

_________________________________

Too much was happening around you and in your head all at once. Too many emotions and thoughts pressed on your mind. There, right in front of you, stood the man you loved. Very much alive, healthy even. And the look in his eyes was one of utter relief. He looked so relieved and happy, to see you and to be there with you. A stark contrast to the dark and shocked look that you could see on Anakin's face.

A lie. A secret mission. A manipulation.

A smile adorned Obi-Wan's face, one that under normal circumstances would have made your knees weak and sped up your heartbeat. You weren't functioning. Cody's questions had faded out and everyone, even Anakin's angry eyes were focused on you, to see how you would react.

In hindsight, you felt a little bad. But at that moment, the utter betrayal you felt and the confusion... they made your adrenaline spike. The loud sound that your flat hand made when it connected to Obi-Wans Cheek echoed in the room. His head turned by the force of your slap, and as your hand fell, his own came up to rub his hurting cheek. Tears stung in your eyes as you let out a frustrated and angry scoff.

Without knowing what to do, in complete adrenaline-mode, you turned around and took angry and fast strides out of the room.

"I suppose I deserved that.", Obi-Wan pressed out through the stinging pain. But no one laughed. He had a lot to fix.

#clone wars imagine #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #clone wars x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi imagine #louistrying #obi-wan kenobi

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estellaelysian · 3 years

Text

Off the table

This really was something to write. It falls under angst, but I don’t know if i should even call it that or is it more horrible. I don’t really know. I feel miserable after writing this, but it just occupied my mind and I couldn’t get it out.

Please don’t read it if angst triggers you.

Song to listen to: Off the table - Ariana Grande, Better off - Ariana Grande

The sky was an odious grey, deep and mournful, and angry clouds, pregnant with rain held back their load, expectant, waiting. Alishka breathed in deeply as she filled a small leather holdall with the things she thought would be necessary for her two day trip, which she was going to face with a rock hard mind. But it wasn’t entirely possible, or that easy even. She had been with a conflict with herself about this trip from the beginning, but she had to go. She couldn’t not go and despise herself forever for not paying a final respect to that old woman who deserved it; all of it, and who had almost loved her like a mother would love her child.

Kathleen John was a senior nurse at the Edenbrook Hospital – a seventy-two year old with an infectious smile and a motherly heart. In the one year Alishka had known her, she had been one of the biggest supports Alishka had had in the hospital, to lean on in times of despair and hardship. Kathleen would get along with almost everyone, because she was quick to laugh, witty and because she could talk about almost anything. They had kept in touch even after she left everything behind. Kathleen would be closest anyone could ever get to her mother in Boston. Kathleen would be missed greatly.

Alishka knew Kathleen would’ve wanted her to go. She was who Alishka was going for.

Alishka’s hair now wrestled free from the poor braid she had attempted to lock them in, cascading down her shoulders in a glossy waterfall. She tossed a thick length behind her shoulders and continued packing before realizing that it was pointless. She turned to the mirror, staring at her green-eyed reflection in a moment of crazy resolution to never look at her the same way again, which crumbled to the floor the next moment. How could she not? It was like she was cursed, like the universe was waiting to watch her fall and leave.

No. she wouldn’t let those feelings in again. She had, once, and it was devastating enough.

Her arms strained from having to braid her hair over and over again, which, no matter how many times she tried, loosened from her grip.

‘Alishka, are you done?’ her mother asked, her voice ringing out in the suburban house.

‘Almost,’ Alishka lied. ‘I am trying to braid my hair.’

She was so engrossed in trying to get it right this time that she didn’t even notice her mother walk into the room. Her fingers worked quickly as she unraveled Alishka’s hair and braided them once again. ‘It’s okay to ask for help sometimes, sweetie. But I know you are too stubborn for your own good so…’

She turned around to find a wistful smile on her mother’s face.

‘Come downstairs,’ she said, patting Alishka’s shoulder affectionately. ‘Dinner is ready.’

‘I’ll be two minutes. I just need to finish up some stuff here.’

‘Very well, I’ll be downstairs then.’

She nodded and turned back to the half-packed holdall, staring at it for a blank moment which seemed to stretch to an eternity, before picking up a few clothes from the bed and stuffing them in.

‘Mommy, I wanna go too,’ said a mellifluous voice, cutting through her confusion. Alicia made a face from the doorway as Alishka looked up from where she was packing on the other side of the room, as if already knowing she was going to say no.

‘Honey, it is a funeral. What are you going to do there?’

‘I want to pay my respect,’ she said, looking down at her hands.

‘You didn’t know her, sweetie.’

‘But you did. And you’ve told me sooo many stories about her, I feel like I know her too. Please, Mommy, let me come too. Please?’

Alishka already knew she was going to regret this very much. And yet…

‘Okay, I’ll allow you to come if you be nice and help your Nana with setting up the table today.’

‘Okay, Mommy, I’ll go help her.’

‘Go on then. She is waiting downstairs.’

She disappeared from the room, and Alishka was left alone with her wretched thoughts.

What was she going to do?

***

They had dinner at the back patio, and afterward, Alishka washed the dishes and her mother dried them.

‘I am taking Alicia with me,’ Alishka said, trying to bring a note of confidence in her voice, but mustering none.

Her mom looked up at her with a skeptical face, setting aside the dish in her hand. ‘Are you sure you are up to that Alishka?’

Even after making so many attempts at hiding every feeling she was going through, it felt as if her mom saw right through her. As if she knew just what Alishka was thinking about.

‘Yeah, Ma,’ she looked away, avoiding her mother’s heavy gaze, a horrible feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. Her mind dived back into the memories, mostly back at that day when she was sitting at the back patio, crying, shaken to the core by what had happened. The day when she had let everything out in an unstoppable rush of words and tears, and the day when her mom had comforted her, put her to sleep, just like she would when Alishka was a kid.

A soft hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present, to the relentless noise of rushing water and clanking of vessels.

‘Honey, do you really think it’s too late?’

***

Alicia pressed a kiss on Fredo’s forehead. ‘Fredo, don’t trouble Nana much, don’t ruin any couch cushions, don’t chew out any pens and … read your medical journals!’

The golden doodle looked up at her with big brown eyes, and Alishka chuckled at the sight before her. ‘Okay, come on, bub its time to go. Say goodnight to your Nana.’

‘Goodnight Nana. Buh-bye. I’ll be back soon, I promise.’

Alishka’s mom laughed. ‘Okay sweetie. I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

Alicia ran to the Jeep and slid in, strapped the seat-belt and waited patiently as Alishka spoke to her mom.

‘Alishka, call me when you get there, okay? And tell me if anything–’

‘I will Ma, don’t worry,’ she said leaning in for a quick hug. ‘Take care.’

��I will. Be careful. I love you.’

‘Love you too.’

***

A cold December wind was blowing and Alishka crossed her arms as she stared out over the water. She found herself alone at the bay; it was 5:07A.M., and Alicia was sleeping in the car, and though she had spent almost twenty-one hours driving here with only two breaks, she scarcely remembered the trip. Her appetite was gone, her stomach in knots, and yet, she had stopped for food once because of Alicia, and besides, she would need it to make the drive, and at 4A.M., she fetched a coffee for herself.

She wondered if she was doing the right thing, bringing Alicia with her. Her heart fluttered at the thought of him, but the feeling was almost immediately replaced by that of disgust and pain.

She would never be ready for him.

The bay glittered under her thoughtful gaze. She could head to the hotel now, but she wanted a minute to herself before everything went crashing down. She knew it would. There was no way out of this mess for her. Not then, not now, even when she thought she had saved herself, rescued herself, protected herself from getting hurt anymore. But no. She was cursed, and so was her love.

Sighing heavily, she thought about the funeral. There was no way he wouldn’t be there. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought Alicia with her, but now it was too late to think about that. She had planned to stay overnight at first, but no. Looking at the bay and the dull Boston skyline, she knew she didn’t want to stay. She would leave immediately after the services were over.

***

The day brought with it the lingering gloom from last night, grey and colorless, as if it knew, much more than anyone, that it was a day of mourning. She absentmindedly touched the lace neck of her black dress before pulling her hair into a messy ponytail. Could people see it in her eyes? Could they tell? Or had she been successful in hiding seven years worth of pain?

She didn’t know.

‘Mommy, I want to bring this to the funeral,’ Alicia said, padding over, holding a small white oblong.

‘What is it, honey?’

‘It’s the note Kathleen Nana gave you, when you were an intern. I brought it with me. Is it okay if I bring it to the funeral and put it on…’

Alicia looked away sadly, and Alishka made a small smile at her daughter’s thoughtfulness. Sometimes it reminded her of him, but she had grown used to ignoring those feelings, for better or for worse. He had wanted to have nothing to do with her anyway, didn’t he?

‘Okay, sweetheart, you can. I don’t mind. But …’

‘I know,’ she mumbled, looking up at her. ‘I have to be nice and not talk to strangers, even if you have told me stories about them, and I have to be quiet, not talk too much.’

Another half smile. ‘Good, sweetie. I love you.’

‘I love you too Mommy.’

‘Can I have a hug, Alicia?’

She walked over as Alishka kneeled and wrapped her small arms around her. Alishka knew there would come a day when she would consider herself to old for such displays, which is why she squeezed tighter, letting the hug linger more than usual.

***

Ethan made imperceptible adjustments to his tie as he stood before the mirror, nervous and unsettled, staring at his empty blue eyes, lacking any emotion, now that he noticed it. Was it always this way? Was he always this cold? If not, then when did it change?

He didn’t know. As far as he was concerned, he had nothing left anymore. Nothing. He couldn’t save Dolores, he couldn’t save Kathleen, he couldn’t do anything right.

He couldn’t stop her…

Nor could he stop himself.

He wished he had died instead. Atleast he would be released from this pain he felt, from the memories which haunted him every night. Atleast he would get a pass, and a chance to fix everything in the next one.

If only he was given a chance that good.

But maybe he would ruin that too, just like he had ruined everything else.

He looked up at his own eyes again, his mind flitting back, almost unstoppably, to the last time he ever saw her, at Donahue’s, before leaving for Amazon. That was it. The final blow to her feelings, and his unbreakable wit and ego, which, finally had found a way to be shattered into a million pieces, which could not be restored. Not anymore.

Sighing, he reached stepped outside the en-suite, feeling numb and empty. A half hearted glance at his bed had him thinking that it was too big for his liking, and he wondered why he never noticed it before. He hated sleeping in it after returning from Amazon.

May be losing her meant losing himself too. No, it didn’t mean so. It was so. He had lost her the day he decided to leave for Amazon.

He hadn’t seen her after that. She had broken every string that tied her to him and disappeared into thin mist, nowhere to be found, no one knowing about it. Her friends were as clueless about where she had gone as he was. He dreaded the fact that he had not known enough about her. For all the time they had been together, in all the things they had talked, she had never mentioned much about her family. He knew she was from California, and he had tried looking too, only to fail miserably. She was not there. She was nowhere. She was gone, and she would never come back.

It was unbearable. The whole thing. He tried calling her, thinking about what he would say if she answered, but the number had been deactivated. The last few days they had spent together blurred into a mess, as if the pleasure of remembering had been taken away from him, because there was no longer anyone to remember with. It was like losing every memory he had made with her, now that he had lost her.

So he went back to being the person he was before she came along – a terrifying attending with no feelings, whatsoever, of his own. And quite soon, he realized that wasn’t true. He had feelings. She brought them out in him. She brought out his better side.

Without her, he lacked a better side.

He stuffed his wallet and keys in his pockets and left the house, the door banging the frame with a loud bang.

With no perception of what was about to be, he headed outside, into a storm he had created for himself years ago.

***

The funeral service was small and attracted a dozen mourners, which stood huddled under giant black umbrellas with blank, expressionless faces as they stared at the ground in silence. The rain did not last for long, but how did it matter anyway? Kathleen’s children stood next to the coffin, hugging everybody as they passed by. For a while, he just watched people as they walked up to the coffin, all these people he had never seen before kneeling down next to her, look at her for a while, maybe crying. He had only really known Kathleen and her children, and those were who he came for. He knew she would’ve wanted him to come.

A little girl made her way over, putting a small white note on the coffin and whispered something before walking back and disappearing into the black-clad crowd. He did not know why, but he choked up at the sight. It was incredible, given how emotionally resigned he was at that time, and yet, when he tried to find that girl, looking back, he did not find her.

The next few moments were mostly a jumble to him; he did not remember much of what the priest spoke as he stood behind the coffin; he did not remember the minister calling up people and them making their eulogies. He did not remember much of when exactly the funeral service ended, or when people started to disperse. Everything happening there seemed to stark and yet blurred together, somehow, but that was until he rose from his seat and decided to leave too, and that’s when he saw her.

Standing near the rear pew, was a beautiful girl, with long dark brown hair and green eyes, the woman he fell for seven years ago, and the one he decided to hurt in the worst way possible.

But how?

She must’ve been in touch with Kathleen, he thought. His first instinct was to walk away, just like he had, years ago, but something about that sight made his throat choke up. It was the little girl from earlier, her hand clasped tightly in Alishka’s.

Maybe she had married and settled down after all, with someone loving her like the way she deserved to be loved.

But then the girl caught his eye.

And he felt like a huge blow had been delivered to his face, just as he recognized every single of her features mirroring his own.

No, this was a delusion. This was not the truth.

No no no no no…

It couldn’t be.

And then she recognized him, as if she’d already known about him all her life. He watched as she tugged at Alishka’s hand, as Alishka bent down, as she listened to what the little girl whispered before pointing toward him, and finally, Alishka looking up at him, pain clear in her eyes like a plastic sleeve.

He started walking toward them, he did not know why. He saw Alishka take a hesitant step back before steeling herself, and another blow was delivered to his guts when he saw tears streaking her face.

He did not know, and he would never know, what exactly brought him to his knees at the sight of the girl – the striking resemblance of his own features he saw in her own or the need he felt to get on eye-level with her, or the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach which made him feel too weak to stand.

**********

A/N: Let’s assume there was an elderly nurse in Edenbrook in the intern ear of Alishka

A/N 2: This happens in some sort of an AU where Alishka left Boston when Ethan went to Amazon.

A/N 3: I decided to stop here. I was planning to put this out as a three-part mini series, but couldn’t resist myself. Besides, it’s nothing if not the whole thing. Should I write more? I don’t know. Let me know.

Tagging: @tenaciouslandvoidgiant @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers

#ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan x mc

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wreckofawriter · 5 years

Text

I Wish

Pairing: James Potter x Reader x Sirius Black

Word Count: 2,421

Warnings: Slight swearing, angsty

Request: hey 💌 my request seems kinda sad (but i'm into it). sooo i was listening to i wish by one direction and i had an idea!! could u pls write a james x reader based on that song? like reader is dating sirius and james is in love with reader? and sirius knows? heheh thank u, i love your work ✨💗🙏🏽

A/n: I'm not a big One Direction fan but this was fun to write. Enjoy!

He takes your hand, I die a little

I watch your eyes and I'm in riddles

Why can't you look at me like that?

James swallowed harshly watching you as neared them. He knew it wasn't supposed to be like this but here he was. The boy looked down at his hands ashamed.

“Hey guys!” you greeted with a smile that made his knees go weak and his breath leave his lungs.

“Hey babe.” Sirius responded looking up at you from his position next to James on the couch. “Whats up?”

“Nothing much.” You answered plopping in between the two boys making James jump a bit. “You okay James?” You asked turning towards him.

The boy coughed sputtering for breath, “Y-yeah.” he stuttered nervously pushing his glasses back up his nose.

“You sure?” you placed your arm on his shoulder in concern and he went completely stiff.

“He's just upset his Lily flower is ignoring him again.” Sirius laughed rolling his eyes playfully.

Sirius couldn't have been more wrong but James just put on a fake smile and nodded along.

He slumped with relief when you removed your hand from his shoulder and turned back to Sirius.

Playing with Sirius' hair you said, “She can't keep the charade up for ever I mean you James fuckng Potter for Merlin's sake.”

The truth was James felt nothing the ‘James fucking Potter’ you mentioned. That James had died three months ago when he fell in love with you. He knew falling in love was supposed to be this wonderful thing, with fluffy bunnies, rainbows and cotton candy and he was sure that's what it was when he thought he was in love with Lily. Unfortunately he had done no such thing and when you walked into the common room Sirius’ arm around your waist he had truly fallen. And falling was definitely the right word.

It was as if someone had pushed him off his broom and he had plummeted to the ground below. Now he just lay there hurt and wounded attempting to pick himself back up as his heart crumbled to pieces.

Oh and of course every time he made the smallest bit of progress, his best friend would come over carrying you in his arms and kick him in the gut as you giggled and stared at Sirius like he with the king of England.

And now here you were doing it again. Sirius was talking about the prank he had just constructed and you had your head laid on his shoulder hand interlaced with his. Your beautiful y/e/c eyes locked on his stormy grey ones. All the while James was wishing you were looking at him.

When you walk by, I try to say it

But then I freeze, and never do it

My tongue gets tied, the words get trapped

I hear the beat of my heart getting louder, whenever I'm near you

James nearly went into cardiac arrest when you walked into the slug club meeting. You were incredible.

A lacy white dress hung snug to your chest before spreading out at your waist into a and hanging down your legs. Your hair was done up in a tight ponytail with silver sparkles sprinkeled in across your head.

James was sure if he watched you any longer he would forget about everything else in this world and sprint at you smashing his lips onto yours. So he turned his head to look at his best friend whose arm was linked to yours, the long haired boy had his eyes locked on you in a way that broke his heart, he looked at you the same way; with love. You just never looked back.

You waved to a few of your friends before turning back to Sirius saying something to him before disappearing into the small crowd.

Sirius made his way over to James giddy and smiley.

“Guess what.” He smiled his eyes still in a haze from your angelic form.

“What?"James drawled trying (and failing) to sound interested.

“I told her I loved her.”

James spat out the pumpkin juice he had taken a sip of, gaining everyone in a three foot radius attention, “You did what!?”

“Yeah I know!” the other boy bounced excitedly on his heels mistaking his friends misery for astonishment and happiness of his own actions. “She said it back too, I can't believe it! She's actually in love with me!” Sirius was practically bursting with joy as he broke his best friends heart into a million pieces.

“She's actually in love with you.” James whispered voice tearful and heart-broken as if he was realizing it for the first time.

“You okay man?” Remus asked coming up behind the pale boy.

“I think I feel a bit sick, i'm going to head back.” James muttered blinking back tears as he set his glass down and headed for the door.

“Oh okay.” Sirius said smile faltering for just a meer second.

Just as James neared the exit he had his hand grabbed and twirled around to be faced with the elegant y/e/c eyes he dreamt about.

“James, where are you going?” you asked a grin plastered on your soft pink lips.

He felt his tongue swell as his eyes took in your beautiful figure, your were nothing short of a piece of magnificent art. “I-I don't feel very well.” He managed to punch past the lump growing in his throat as he looked a what could never be his.

“Oh I'm sorry.” You said voice soft and laced with concern, “I'll talk to you later then, hope you feel better.” with that you turned to walk back to the party.

“Wait y/n!” James bit down on his tongue after he spoke wishing he hadn’t let those two words escape.

“Whats up James?” you asked turning back to face the breaking boy.

James felt the words he had been wanting to say building in his throat wanting desperately to escape. He swallowed again forcing those thoughts to stay just that; thoughts.

He managed a lopsided grimace before squeezing his eyes shut quickly and gasping out a sarrowfilled and broken, “Nothing.” before turning and walking quickly from the party before you could respond.

But I see you

With him slow dancing

Tearing me apart 'cause you don't see

Whenever you kiss him, I'm breaking,

Oh how I wish that was me

Over the next few weeks James learns slowly and, as always, painfully how to act normal around you. He would still feel himself breaking inside as Sirius pulled you into a kiss, but he kept it just there. Inside.

Now he stared at you pulling Sirius close to you and burying your head in his chest as you both swayed to the soft sound of the music he simply sighed downing his glass of fire whiskey in a quick gulp, hoping it would dull the pain.

It helped a bit but he dared not drink much more for fear of the false confidence he knew he would gain with a few more glasses, confidence that would take his friendship and rip it in two.

He looks at you, the way that I would

Does all the things, I know that I could

If only time could just turn back

' Cause I got three little words that I've always been dying to tell you

James looked down at the crowd below him and caught sight of you, feeling his heart soar before it dropped straight back into the ground. Sirius stood next to you holding a sign that read, "Kick some slithery ass!” in bright golden and red. This would have made him chuckle if the owner of the sign hadn't been staring at the girl of his dreams before leaning over and kissing her on the corner of her lips.

James could almost hear Sirius mutters a soft, “I just couldn't help it.” in your ear.

He couldn't blame him. He could barely help it himself.

He wished you were the one holding the sign, and that after this game he would be

able to go to hogsmeade with you and kiss the corner of your lips his hand locked with yours.

He wished he was the one who got to whisper, “I just couldn't help it” in your ear.

But he wasn't, so instead he flew through away from the heart wrenching couple and looked for something he could have. The quaffle.

But I see you

With him slow dancing

Tearing me apart 'cause you don't see

Whenever you kiss him, I'm breaking,

Oh how I wish that was me

Fire Whiskey was James Potter's new best friend. It wouldn't steal the love of his life away from him.

James had been doing okay but all rationalty had gone out the window when you had attacked him in a hug after he won the game. You had smelt of roses and pomegranates. The scent drove him crazy. He had wanted to freeze time and hold you forever, running his hands through your y/h/c hair.

When you pulled away not having you was so much more painful than before and he couldn't take the pain. So he numbed it.

He had taken four shots the second he had joined the party in the Gryffindor common room. The broken heart was now holding a bottle and bringing it to his lips as you drunkenly pulled an equally drunk Sirius into a sloppy make out session.

Godric, what James wouldn't have given for it to be him whose tongue was exploring your mouth.

Twice that night he almost fucked up his entire life and both times he had managed to stay sane enough to walk away from you and sit his ass back into a chair. After a third bailed attempt to say three little words to you he finally he stumbled upstairs and passed out on the floor.

With my hands on your waist, while we

dance in the moonlight

I wish it was me, that you'll call later on

cause you wanna say good night

Just like every other night, he dreamt of you.

This time you were dancing in a garden, the moonlight making you appear even more angelic than normal. You hair seemed to glow as you reached for his hand, bare feet twirling around on dewy grass. You soft lips were spread in their glorious lopsided smile. You had loved him. You had held him and ran your hands through his hair. You had kissed him softly lips tasting of strawberry and fire whiskey. You had wanted him, needed him, chosen him.

Then he woke to the sound of you leaving the room, hair in a messy bun, wearing Sirius t-shirt and boxers as you snuck from the room, bare foot, on hardwood floors. Because you had wanted him, needed him, chosen...him.

Cause I see you

With him slow dancing

Tearing me apart 'cause you don't see

Sirius was not blind. He saw the way his best friend looked at you. He saw the jealousy the anger, he saw all of it. He had hoped James was simply jealous of what he and y/n had wishing it for Lily and himself, but he was wrong and he had always known that.

“James.” He spoke when the two of them were in the library. They had been abandoned by Remus and Peter but were still in desperate need to study.

“Yeah?” James asked looking up sleepily from his half-finished transfiguration essay.

Siruis sighed deciding beating around the bush would only cause more pain, “I know your in love with y/n. ”

All of the previous tiredness that had found a home in James’ hazel orbs was now far from sight. The boy went pale, then red then pale again before he opened his mouth to speak, “I don’t kn-”

“Don't lie to me James. I know you better than I do myself, i'm not blind, I see the way you stare at her, the way you talk to her, just the way you act around her, its obvious.” Sirius deadpanned, he wasn't messing around.

James looked down ashamed of himself. He could feel his tears pushing through their defenses as the by he considered a brother spoke.

“James, I don't know how you fell for her, but I need you to move on." Sirius stared at the boy needing him to hear him, "I love her, she loves me and I know that this has been killing you, but I won't change how I feel about her because of you. I can’t. You guys and her are all I have, but I refuse to choose between the two. So you are going to have to swallow your feelings, bury them deep and keep your shit together. Not just for me but for her too.”

James looked up at Sirius’ stern face eyes glossy. “I will.”

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut in a silent prayer to keep his own tears down, he hated this conversation almost as much as James. “Thank you.”

James nodded and looked back down at his essay knowing he wasn't going to write anything meaningful for a long time.

But I see you

With him slow dancing

Tearing me apart 'cause you don't see

Whenever you kiss him, I'm breaking,

Oh how I wish

Oh how I wish, that was me

It became easier. The breaking became a dull throbbing pain, not great but better than the previous sharp stabbing he had felt before.

He didn't watch you anymore. He trained his eyes to look for red hair not y/h/c. He focused on everything he hated about you (a microscopic list) and everything he loved about Lily. He smiled more, dreamt less.

He tried not to wish for you but he still felt that deep desire not wanting to leave. He knew that with time he could do it. He avoided you, he needed space as well. He pushed you away best he could and focused, focused on anything but you.

James he knew that finally he was beginning to pick himself off of the grass and find the pieces of his heart to put back together. But he knew that you had one of those pieces and he was sure he would never quite get it back. Because a part of him would always be yours.

Oh how I wish, that was me

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hopetofantasy · 4 years

Text

Wandering Romance

- A future with child fic -

Square Filled: Future, Family, Past lovers Ship: Sander Driesen/Robbe Ijzermans Trigger Warnings (if applicable): none applied. Created for @skamevents Summary: “A perfect, tight little family. But happy. Until one unfortunate day in May, in the year that David turned six.”

In the future, Robbe and Sander have a son named David. The only tie they have left with each other, actually. Because our lovers split up years ago, due to mistakes that were made in the past.

So is their love strong enough to sustain a healthy friendship? Will they find their way to each other again or break all connections for good?

Also available on AO3

—————————————————————

CHAPTER 2: 'No one sees what I see in you’

—————————————————————

“So this is it then?”

A beautiful boy with mesmerizing eyes lying in arms. The warmth of love. It felt like puzzle pieces finally fitting together, after months of frustration and searching for anything that might look like it. Something that had been missing for quite some time. It just didn’t add up? Long sighs, hurtful eyes, loaded silences that made them more sad than happy. Their love wasn’t strong enough to deal with this...

No, he didn’t believe that.

They were strong enough.

Just not now...

He was caressing the cheek of his lover, his best friend, his partner in crime. Another part of the pair, the amazing family they had. Fathers. Their boy. All tossed away, like it was nothing. A paper crumbled in the trash. Like they never even were. And because of what? Why? Why now? Why this? This wasn’t right. They both knew it wasn’t.

He sighed to stop the spiraling.

His hands started to clench into a fist. He was so angry at first, he was so angry and sad at the world. He was promised forever, they both promised each other that their love would survive anything. The perfect man in a beautiful white suit and him wearing the black one. Ying and yang. Always complimenting each other, begging for a deeper connection, receiving it and now cutting it away.

Like his heart.

“Is this it? Can’t we keep trying? Please?”

His eyes were staring inside those deep ones. His tanned skinned hand slightly caressing his lover’s arm. Mindlessly. They were used to pillow talk until the early morning, the sunrise. The night sky turning from dark blue to light orange hues, exactly the color he once made by accident, trying out the paint samples on his palette. A beautiful coincidence. Just like the night they met.

As if faith knew.

When the other boy didn’t answer, he just went for it. His lips trying to convey everything he felt inside the troubled mind, his hands feeling every hitched breath taken away from his other half, the softness of a wanted caress, but also the sting from nails digging in his back, the bite of pleasure, the strained movement of legs - as if love couldn’t be felt without some pain. It suited them, he thought. Every day could be a high. Every day could be a low.

His fingers gripped the sheets of their shared bed. Sharing it for the last time.

“Oh my god, schat”, exclaimed the one.

“I love you”, answered the other.

“I love you too”, was moaned.

“Don’t leave me, please”, was said.

A tear rolling off a heated cheek.

Kissed by soft eyelashes.

The silence that followed wasn’t wounding. It was passion, it was love, it was a high that never experienced a low. A white light behind the eyes. Stars for their lights. Something shared only between them. And never would be again.

“Let us go... please”

The whisper.

And that’s when Sander woke up from his dream.

When he started to cry.

-^-

“Papa, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, darling, always. What is it?”

“How did you and paps meet?”

Oof, that was such a loaded question for a Monday morning. And he didn’t even have his first coffee yet. His eyes instantly analyzed David’s face, which was just a pure reflection of playfulness and wonder. The tiny boy seemed to concoct something on his breakfast croissant. It looked like choco spread, decorated with speculaas cookies.

What is this? Where the hell did he get that idea? This can’t be healthy right?

“Sweetie, did you eat a hearty sandwich before shoving this in your mouth? You can’t live on sweets, you know that. You won’t grow to be a big boy, then!”

“But, papa, I like it. Can I have this, like... one time?”

Oh no, not the puppy eyes.

He was a real manipulator with those big brown orbs. The kid was 9 years old, for God’s sake, how could he be this smart? He knew exactly how to play the game to convince them of mischievous things, things that were bad for him and stuff they needed to say ‘no’ to. But it was sooo rewarding to just say ‘yes’. Just to see the beautiful grin creep up onto the face he loved so much.

Something Sander wanted to collect in a jar and pull out whenever he had his ‘cloudy days’. David didn’t understand the concept of bipolarity yet, so once he was old enough to notice something, they had sat him down to explain. “David, sweetie. You know how papa is sometimes a bit different?”, Robbe tried to approach the subject, while their son stared with unsung tears in his eyes.

“Yeah, he lies on the bed and sleeps and don’t eat and is very, very sad. I don’t understand. Does papa hate me? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry...”

If the room was a stethoscope, the family would’ve heard a heart breaking. It was one thing that Robbe had to deal with his mania and depression. Now another innocent soul was being corrupted by his stupid brain and Sander just couldn’t deal with that. The pain he might induce, the worry in his soul almost growing too much. But as always, his other half seemed to know what to do. While holding his hand, to anchor him back to this world, Robbe explained.

“No, darling. Papa will always love you. Even if you did bad things. But now you didn’t do anything wrong, okay? You see, people have a bright sun inside them. And sometimes that happy, beautiful sun will have clouds blocking their light. Clouds who bring in bad weather, like being tired, not being hungry, not wanting to talk, have sad thoughts, just wanting to sleep all the time. And that’s okay. Because after a few days of rain, comes the sunshine, right?”

“And sometimes a rainbow!”, their beautiful boy exclaimed.

A couple of teeth missing in the front, but his smile was beaming nonetheless. It melted their hearts. “Yes,” Sander whispered softly. If he wasn’t sure about how much he loved his curly angels before, he knew now. When did he become so lucky to have such beautiful love? Him and his loving partner hugging their soft boy, giggling all together, without a care in the world. A fulfilling life.

Perfection.

“Papa, are you there?”

Sander blinked back some tears, while trying to focus on the situation at hand. David was glaring at him, already halfway through the disgustingly sweet croissant in his hands. Some crumbs were falling down the plate. And the choco paste tainting his pink cheeks. The look in his face was peculiar, like he tried to figure out what his dad was thinking. If he was going ‘cloudy’.

“David... I do remember that I never told you ‘yes’, right?”

The answer was a simple shrug.

“You didn’t answer my question about paps, either. C’est la vie.”

To say that Sander was perplexed, is an serious understatement.

-^-

When Sander was thirteen, he knew.

He wasn’t normal.

This was way before he was diagnosed with bipolarity, but that wasn’t the only thing not fitting the ‘standard normal’. He knew the boys in his class and he simply didn’t like them. They were all talking about video games, Call Of Duty: Black Ops, while eating their weight in greasy snacks and referring to girls like pieces of meat. Making jokes about what they learned from their older siblings or watching too much nighttime television.

And he didn’t.

He liked to write, he wanted to be a writer someday. And paint. Drawing was amazing. Sander loved walking around with cut jeans, graphic band t-shirts and a bleached buzzcut. One day, he’d love to have a pierced eyebrow. That was considered cool in his book. Maybe his career would be ‘rock-and-roll’ artist, since he played the drums too. Something to get his energy out.

Because he had ADHD.

At least, that’s what his doctor said. He just wanted different things than others and sometimes all at once. Was that weird? Apparently so. But he wasn’t entirely convinced about having the disorder. It sounded ill-fitting. Like a shrunken skinny jeans in the dryer, the broken mug in his room where he put his discarded pencils. It didn’t make sense.

Because he was who he was.

He liked who he was.

But who was he exactly?

He knew the day he changed schools. His mom somehow knew, the way only mothers do, that the previous school wasn’t the right fit for him. His course orientation was ‘sciences’ and he almost failed everyone of his classes. Sander was struggling to keep afloat. Almost drowning at the formulas and facts and figures. Those were more abstract to him than art. Art made sense, somehow?

And that’s why his mom send him to an art school.

There he saw people with asymmetric hair, nose rings and cut t-shirts. Girls with alluring auras, rainbow shoes and paint covered arms. Boys with mesmerizing eyes, fresh make-up and decorated backpacks. Beautiful souls who talked about art like breathing. Who understood things like writer’s block, portrait frustration and tunnel vision.

And he fell in love with them, all of them.

His people.

It took him a few years to understand what else made him special. Because he did fall in love with people’s souls, their auras, instead of a specific gender. It was a highlight in his life when he figured that one out. He finally knew another piece of the puzzle. Life was complicated, but knowing something more about yourself, made it so much easier.

His first crush was on a dark skinned boy from his drawing class. He didn’t reciprocate feelings, but liked Sander as a friend. Ekon appreciated the way Sander caught him in his art pieces. Complimented him on how he perfectly attained his off-beat smile, when someone made a joke at his expense. He was a quiet boy. But a boy, nonetheless.

And then there was Saartje. An unconventional girl, even for an art school. She seemed to walk around like an ice queen surrounded by raging fires. Hated every thing he suggested to lift her sculptures to a new level, always answering his comments with a cold stare. Such a soft girly name for such a raging bitch.

And Sander couldn’t help but fall.

Hard.

Without parachute.

But she used that to her advantage.

His love was treated as an exchange. If Sander would shut up about his newest passion called David Bowie, she’d give him a kiss. When he asked her on a date, she would think about it. Maybe if Sander could persuade the teacher to give her a better grade? And if he paid? Being the hormonal teenager he was, he obliged. And he believed. He was tricked into uncertain love.

Something he carried with him.

Especially after his eventual diagnosis. He dated Britt. He thought he deserved this kind of love. The uncertainty, the doubt, the hardships. It was all his brain’s fault, for being the way he was. Love? Love was something to be earned, not to be given. And nobody would give that up so easily for someone as broken as him.

Until that one boy,

in the moonlight.

He never saw true beauty ‘til this night.

And his heart,

did love as true again.

-^-

“Do you want any help with that?”

“Papa, I know how to make myself look like Bowie, you know.”

Sander snorted. He was truly a son of his, wasn’t he? This tiny boy was sitting on a high chair, right in front of a mirror, attempting to put on the make-up in a dramatic way. The tip of his tongue spilling out his lips, trying very hard to focus. He couldn’t stop staring at this sight, which filled him with pride. He must have taught him well.

The next generation was secured.

“Dad, stop staring at me and go find my other dad.”, David said sternly.

Ok, but who was the parent in this relationship exactly? Sometimes Sander didn't know. Yet, catching the eye of the supervisor right behind him, he was sure that everything was going to be a-okay. Maybe he did needed to find Robbe and the boys. It’ll do him some good. It had been ages since they had some real interaction that wasn’t through a phone.

It wasn’t difficult to spot them through the crowd of curious adults. The exaggerated screaming at each other was enough. Robbe had been pulled into the biggest hug by Milan, flanked by a jumping Moyo, giggling Aaron and a serious Jens. It sounded like the weirdest end of the world. But the feeling that coursed through his heart wasn’t unusual.

Pride.

For what they all achieved.

How they all stayed together.

Through hell and back.

Moyo had, somehow, become a successful club owner of a couple of nightlife establishments all around the city. From an only-known-by-initiates speakeasy to a high paid, high-end sky club, he knew what he wanted to do with his life and brought it to the table. Jens, on the other hand, went on a totally different route. After failing to start a few start-ups, he became g a video editing/sound mix freelancer and stay-at-home dad to help his lawyer-wife.

Aaron was still on the grind as a social worker, working until late at night to fight for the hardest cases. “These people deserve a happy ending”, he’d always say. And Sander couldn’t agree more.

Last but not least, Milan. The interior designer with an ecological mind. He had helped them out with the decoration of their home, which was totally picture perfect. And still cheap as f.

After the whole ordeal of greeting, Robbe seemed to have a huge smile plastered on his face. That was good, Sander though. Lately he looked so lost, certainly in Sander’s neighborhood. And he didn’t know why. As far as he knew, he didn’t say or do anything wrong. On the contrary. He’d encouraged Robbe to bring Wouter along, saying it was totally okay to find love again.

Where was that bastard, anyways?

“Heeeeeey, Jack Frost!”, the entire group turned towards him and engulfed him into an instant hug. Causing a lot of high pitched giggling, ‘omg, your hand is on my butt’-s and eye rolls. The warmth next to him was familiar, though. As was the scent. Which made his heart drum a little harder, like it wasn’t stating the obvious already. Pulling away, the electrified gaze lingered.

“How are you?”, the one asked.

“I’m good.”, the other answered.

He wanted to know more. Sander always wanted to know more. His heart never stopped beating for this boy, so everything he would say, would be engraved in his soul. His broken mind. His eternal love. That would never change. Even through the pain, he knew that they belonged together. That it was neither fault. Life just happened.

Like always.

But before he could ask anything else, a woman approached the brown haired man. Some colorful glasses, a beautiful classic dress and an intrigued smile on her face. Robbe immediately greeted her as ‘Mrs. Raymaeckers’. “I saw David backstage. Are you ready to see the performance, Mr. Ijzermans?”, she politely asked. Robbe slowly nodded his head with a careful smile.

“Ofcourse, David is going to be amazing, he was bouncing off the walls about this. I’m interested in what he’s going to play...”

“Ah yes. The David Bowie thing. He’s truly special, isn’t he? Unique in some ways.”, she giggled, while wrapping her hand around his arm. Causing a lot of heads unsubtly turning towards the gesture.

“I love how he has such a playful spirit. Does he have that from his father or his mother?”. She blinked rapidly. Auburn hair tossed over her shoulder. A beaming smile.

Wait...

Was she...

Trying to flirt with him?

A potential married man?

Sander saw how the other boys desperately held in their laughs. Some of them failed. Robbe’s cheeks reddened slightly, like he didn’t know how to answer this delicate question.

She just assumed he was straight?

That was such heteronormativity.

It irked the beach blonde man, that people could still think this way, like a child couldn’t have two fathers or mothers?

“He has that from me, actually.”

Six pairs of eyes bore into his. Most of them applauding the ballsy move on his part, one of them grateful for this way out. The last one, however, went through a whole process.

Confusion, calculation, realization and shame.

“Oh... I’m sorry.”, Mrs. Raymaeckers sheepishly stated. "I didn’t know. I just assumed... Ahem. Well, I’m gonna check the rest. Bye, Mr Ijzermans. Bye, Mr-”

“Driesen.”, he answered coldly.

“Bye, Mr. Driesen.” And with that, she was gone. As fast as the wind.

He didn’t like it.

He just didn’t.

How people could still think the way they did, how they would just come up to potential married men and flirt with them? How was that okay?

He knew he was clenching his fist, because of the pain. Fingernails making tiny half moons. It stung. Jealousy and anger tasting like poison in his mouth. His stare trying to find a fixated spot to calm his breathing.

He found it in some deep brown eyes.

A cautious smile coming towards him. He knew. Robbe always knew what Sander needed, even when he didn’t know himself. He was intuitive that way. His beautiful man, such a perfect human. The father of his child. And he couldn’t help, but sigh. Breathing slowly, heart thumping. A small caress around his fist, trying to soften the harsh ache. Only making the ache in his heart greater.

“Robbe”, he whispered silently.

“Yeah, Sander?”

He didn’t say anything more. He couldn’t. Robbe needed to live his own life, making his own mistakes, battle his own prejudices. Feeling his own real love. So Sander just stood there. Looking at the face he adored the most and he started to notice something. It almost looked like Robbe was anticipating this, was waiting for some kind of answer, some kind of truth.

And that's when they heard it.

A David Bowie lookalike coming onto the stage.

Childlike coughing in the microphone.

The first notes of a guitar riff.

The scratchy start of ‘doodoodoo''.

The song.

David Bowie.

The sign.

“You've got your mother in a whirl She's not sure if you're a boy or a girl Hey babe, your hair's alright Hey babe, let's go out tonight You like me, and I like it all We like dancing and we look divine You love bands when they're playing hard You want more and you want it fast They put you down, they say I'm wrong You tacky thing, you put them on.

Rebel rebel, you've torn your dress Rebel rebel, your face is a mess Rebel rebel, how could they know? Hot tramp, I love you so!”

#wtfock #wtfam #skambingo #skamevents #part 2 of 4

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every1studio · 4 years

Text

REQUESTED: “someone’s hero” [ateez: hongjoong]

genre: ANGST + slight fluff + MENTIONS OF AN END

ficstyle: bulletpoints

request: “ Hi!!! Can I get an angsty hananki disease au for hongjoong?? “ + “ Ur robbing us of a spiderman hongjoong😔💜🥺♥️♥️ “

note: trying to kill 2 birds with one stone here

"Hongjoong! you were almost late for class!” you smacked the arm of your best friend as he collapsed on his desk

Hongjoong was almost late because he was just doing small acts of good deeds

you know, the usual

helping an elderly woman cross the crosswalk

picking up after people as they litter

saving a bank from a band of robbers

the usual

Hongjoong lived another life outside of being your typical high school student and helping others

back in middle school, he got bit by a radioactive spider; giving him the abilities of a spider

he honed his skills for the greater good and perform heroic deeds to help the neighborhood

but he knew he couldn’t juggle being a normal high school

so the only people that knew of his hidden identity are his parents

you nudge at Hongjoong’s elbow as you show him your phone

“our friendly neighborhood hero strikes again. I really wanna know who this guy is..”

Hongjoong smirks at you as he rests his chin on his arm, “what would you say if you got a chance to talk to him?”

you sat up a little straighter, “I would thank him for his services and..”

“and~?” Hongjoong’s ears perked up

“I would ask to see his face.. I mean what if he’s this insanely good looking guy?!”

“he could be insanely ugly too..” he jeered

you slapped him on the arm, “don’t talk about him like that! with that selfless heart and toned body? there’s no way that he’s ugly!”

Hongjoong blushed at your words but you couldn’t know his true identity, nobody could

he ruffles the back of his head before clearing his throat, “so um.. are you gonna go to homecoming?”

you shrugged as you got out your physics textbook, “I don’t know... you know it’s not my thing...”

he dramatically hung his head down as he pouted at you, “it’s our senior year though...”

“I’ll let you know if I change my mind,” you said as you rolled your eyes

Hongjoong didn’t have the courage to ask you out; he was suppose to ask you out a long time ago

it was easier was you two were younger

but the older you two got, the harder it was for him to tell you all the feelings he had pent up inside for you

you could say he’s been in love with you when you two were 5 and finding ladybugs until the sunset

he made a daisy ring for you and announced that when you two are old enough, he’ll buy you a real shiny ring

up until today, he doesn’t know if you liked him back or not

but that fact that you didn’t push him away gave him hope

Hongjoong was a pretty good student so he only had 3 classes; which were all the classes that you had with him

it gave him enough time to spend with you AND go do his heroic deeds

“do you want anything from Starbucks?” Hongjoong gets up to leave for the day

you gave him a smile that he fell in love with, “the usual please~”

“with extra cinnamon on top?” he asked with a smile

“just the way I like it~”

Hongjoong was so giddy he didn’t notice Yunho walking passed him, with a bouquet of flowers behind his back

it was a long day for Hongjoong, he got caught up with a bunch of little hooligans but he made it back to school in time for your last class of the day

everyone was teasing and nudging at you and Yunho

Hongjoong had a bad feeling about it

he stopped someone who was recording the two of you, “what’s going on?”

“oh Yunho asked Y/N out to homecoming in the CUTEST way; they’ve got to hook up!” the girl squealed as she posted the video on her social media

Hongjoong felt like it was hard to breath all of a sudden; he tried clearing his throat but the feeling didn’t go away

he was going to turn away until-

“Joongie!!” it belong to your voice and upon hearing it, it made his chest hurt

“here’s your Starbucks..” he managed to choke up

you took the drink and placed it down

you moved his face so that he was only going to focus on your face, “Joongie... are you okay? what’s wrong?”

Hongjoong pushed through the excruciating pain with a smile, “I’m okay.. I’m just tired, I don’t think I can take you home today..”

you were genuinely concerned for him; he’s always taken care of you, just as you have with him

but you thought maybe some space would be good for him

“please call me when you get the chance...” you looked at him with worried eyes

he pats your hair like he always did but he doesn’t say anything

he made eye contact with Yunho and walked away

there was nothing to hate about Yunho; he was tall, handsome, caring, and just a genuinely good person

would you have changed your mind if he asked you first?

would you have gone with homecoming with him?

would he have had a chance with you?

but was he ready for you to know the truth about him?

all these thoughts made his chest hurts

he laid in bed, coughing and hacking up petals

daisy petals, to be exact; which took him back to his proposal to you back when you were kids

homecoming was suppose to be the end of the week

it was announced on the news that their neighborhood hero was nowhere to be seen

Hongjoong’s condition made it hard for him to use any of abilities

he thought that this was a passing sickness that will go away; he did his research on his condition

Hanakaki Disease: where the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from an one-sided love. when the person the victim loves returns the feelings, the condition will be lifted. or can be removed surgically but the feelings the victim has for the beloved will disappear

Hongjoong slouched in his chair when he read articles upon articles about this condition

he couldn’t go through with the surgery; he wanted to love you until the day he died

every time he thinks about you, he coughs up a bouquet of daisy petals

the most he can do with his spidery abilities is use it to clean up the petals in his room

despite of living so close, you two loved to exchange handwritten letter; he kept every single on that you wrote to him and would read it until he fell asleep

he got excused from school for a week; which was probably for the best

he wouldn’t have to seen you with Yunho

he answered your texts and calls but other than that, he wouldn’t let you visit him

told you that he was scared that you would catch what he has

this went on until the night of homecoming

Hongjoong was getting ready for homecoming; it was his senior year after all

you invited him to go with your group; he was your childhood friend and your best friend after all

“you look beautiful..” he murmurs into your ear after you all get into venue

“you don’t look too bad yourself, Hongjoong~” you smirked

but your joking demeanor changed as you grabbed the sleeve of his tuxedo, “I missed you.. I know you were only gone for a week but it felt like more...”

Hongjoong’s chest didn’t feel as heavy as it’s been for the whole week he was at home, “I missed you too..”

“Y/N! you ready?” Yunho put his arm out for you to take, “oh hey Hongjoong, you feeling better?”

Hongjoong had the urge to cough but he held it back, “better than ever”

you slipped away from Hongjoong and linked arms with Yunho

when you walked away with Yunho, Hongjoong excused him to cough

he coughed up petals until he couldn’t breathe and asked himself was it worth it to even go to this dance

everyone in the group danced to the music but Hongjoong couldn’t help but watch the lights dancing off of your face

you looked so beautiful, he could cry

suddenly, the ground started to shake

everyone was stumbling and falling

the earthquake alarms came on

everyone ran to the safety zones

Hongjoong knew that in a case of this kind of panic; he was needed the most

he slipped out of his tuxedo and started to help out anywhere that he could

there was still chaos even though the earthquake subsided

it seemed like only the building that the dance took place at was the only unstable building so evacuating everyone was a better idea than having them hide in the safety zone until authorities came

Hongjoong thought he got everyone out until Yunho came back into the building

“hey man.. I was with my date and I can’t seem to find them.. you gotta go find them! please...”

“you gotta get back outside.. I’ll look for them...”

Hongjoong sprinted, swung at the speed of light trying to find you

he found you trapped in between two slabs of concrete; you were safe but you were unable to get out of it

he shot out webs that moved the slabs out of the way

“oh my gosh... I’m a big fan of yours...” you were in awe that you were standing right in front of the neighborhood hero

“look we gotta go.. it’s not safe here..” he tried to get you out to safety

“wait look this is probably the only time I’ll even get to talk to you like this.. how can I thank you?” you fidgeted; the adrenaline was running in your veins, “could I kiss you?”

Hongjoong wasn’t able to say anything but he lifted his mask off

“Joongie?”

“surprise~ and I insanely handsome like you thought I was” he announced with a sense of sarcastically glum manner

you grabbed his face and kissed him

he was so shock and in that moment, he didn’t know he could breathe so clearly

he wrapped his arm around your waist

it was like time stopped for the two of you, “Joongie, I have sooo many questions..”

“let’s get out of here first..“ he reeled back into reality, “gotta get you back to Yunho..”

you couldn’t say anything to that

he dropped you off at the entrance

there was a moment of blissful silence until the entrance way was crumbling

he pushed you as hard as he could into Yunho’s arm and tried to keep the pillars up

but even at the extraordinary limits of his abilities, Hongjoong couldn’t keep them up

in front of your face, you saw them collapse onto him

your eyes welt up with tears, you tried to run to him as you called his name but Yunho held you back

the authorities came too late

Hongjoong didn’t make it to the hospital

his death was a tragedy; he was known as the infamous neighborhood hero

but he was your childhood friend

and your best friend

and your first love

his mother let you into his room one last time before they were going to move away

the death of their son was too much for them to stay in the same house that they raised him in

the TV was on in his room; there was a bed made of daisy petals

“Kim Hongjoong, senior at KQ High School, died as our friendly neighborhood, hero. he was also known as Spider-Man. the hospital also diagnosed that he was suffering with Hanakaki disease. our hero died with an one-sided love disease..”

you switched off the TV and clenched your heart

you convinced yourself that you didn’t have anything to do with his Hanakaki disease

his mother knocked on the door before entering, “hey there sweetie... Hongjoong told me to give this to you if anything happened to him..”

she gave you a peck on the forehead, “let me know if you need anything..”

the letter was sealed with a spider web

Y/N.. hey.. remember all the letters we wrote each other? I have them all saved up still. I read them when I’m bored.. or when I miss you. if you’re getting this letter, something probably happened to me. and if you’re getting this letter, I probably haven’t told you everything about me. I’m Spider-Man. big surprise! but that’s not the main point of this letter. I was able to make this neighborhood safe but I wasn’t able to confess to you. the scariest thing was, knowing that another guy could make you happier than I could. and all of my efforts would just be a nuisance to you. I just want you to know if that no matter what, I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise of proposing to you when we were kids.. childish I know, but that’s what keeps me going everyday. I want you to be the best version of yourself and be the happiest person in the world. Yunho is a great guy and I know that he’s going to treat you well. even if I’m not your hero, I hope someone out there will be..

your tears trickled over the letter

he wasn’t just someone’s hero

he was yours

you loved every part of him; he was your hero before he was anyone else’s hero

but you convinced yourself that you were never going to be good enough for him

but like the wishes he had for you in his letter

your brain convinced your heart that you were going to continue loving Yunho so that you wouldn’t have the Hanakaki disease

you wished that there was more time for him to confess to you

you wished that there was more time for you to confess to him

and now you lost your childhood friend

your best friend

and your first, true love

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