#just further traumatizing my oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spacebarbarianweird · 7 months

Note

Hi!! I eat up ur comfort fics so how about a tav! That’s so overwhelmed mentally they have a lot of trouble sleeping and how the companions (of ur choosing or just one) would help/react to finding them awake crying at like 3am. I’ve been having so much trouble sleeping and it would mean a lot🫶🫶

Oh, that hits home! My insomnia is the worst! And the darkness always comes in the quitest hours of the night. Hope, you don't mind an OC fic with Tiriel the Barbarian as Tav. If it's not to your liking send me another request, I will gladly write another one (or doing your class/race)

Insomnia

Summary: Astarion isn't the only who has traumatic past.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, post-game, named Tav, established relationship, f!tav

Thanks @themadlufor beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

"Fairy girl!" the chieftain bellows. "Come here, little bitch!"

Tiriel tries to hide. She isn't Tiriel yet —she is only twelve, and she doesn't have a name yet. Only slurs and nicknames - Pixie, Fairy, Rabbit. All possible insults toward someone who is only half a human as if it were her fault her mother didn't keep her legs shut when a handsome young elf passed by their village.

The nameless girl is smaller in size than her siblings - the Chieftain's children. Mother has five with him - three older than "Fairy Girl" and two younger. The youngest ones don't understand why one of their sisters has pointy ears and can see in the dark but the others happily "put the elven bastard in line."

"Didn't you hear, Pixie girl?" The stepfather is getting angrier.

No. Don't approach him. You know what he is going to do!

An older brother, sixteen and almost adult, grabs the half-elven girl's collar and drags him to the chieftain. The brother is as cruel as his father and will never forgive his mother's infidelity.

"We should have fed you to the wolves once you were born, Pixie"

I have a name you fucking bastard, my name is Tiriel!

No, not now. Three years. Three years more of misery, humiliation, beatings - but it will end. It will end with fire in the girl's veins, the primal gift of Rage. With blood and violence when the chieftain choked on his own blood. With running away through the cold autumn woods and merciless mountain winds. With tears of desperation when the girl realizes she is on her own lost, and tired.

It will end with a party of adventurers led by an old Tiefling telling the "Pixie girl" that she needs a name, not a slur. Asking her to lead them through the wildernes. Allowing her to be part of their team, a reckless Barbarian who kills first and asks later.

Tiriel, she will tell them. My name is Tiriel.

But the grasp of the nightmare doesn't relent to her. Pain. Cry. Half of her ear is covered in blood. A burst of laughter. An angry dwarf-healer takes the girl to her hut to stitch the ear back.

Tiriel opens her eyes.

She can't understand where she is. She is in a dark tent, under a thick blanket. It's so thick it's difficult to breathe.

No, it's not only the blanket wrapped around her.

She gently touches Astarion's curls. The vampire sleeps covering her body like a weighted blanket. His head is on her chest, hands wrapped around her. He doesn't breathe, his heart doesn't beat.

He is in an elven trance.

Tiriel hopes he is seeing something good.

They've been together for two years, traveling further and further and further North. Sooner or later they will have to turn back, probably heading South-east, but for now they are simply moving, following their mutual wanderlust.

The nightmare was so real Tiriel almost feels like she re-lived those events. But human ancestry prevents half-elves from the experience of reverie.

She needs to go out, to the sunlight - the northern days are so short Tiriel craves at least some of it.

But with Astarion sleeping on her it's impossible. Well, at least he doesn't need much time.

She tries to go back to sleep but can't. Tiriel is tired from the insanity of the last day - she hasn’t slept well because they couldn't find shelter and had to flee into the underground tunnels. They were followed by at least three different groups of enemies that forced them into fighting.

Tiriel needs to sleep.

But she can't.

The events of the past wrap around her mind. Her miserable childhood, her terrible mother, her awful siblings. Only the old dwarf, a retired adventuress, was kind to her.

She feels a wave of tears approaching. Tiriel chokes on them and at that moment Astarion's hands hug her tighter.

He is very well aware of his surroundings when he trances.

Tiriel brushes her finger along his ear forcing his body to stir.

"I thought you slept longer than me," he mutters, slowly returning to reality.

Tiriel hugs him tighter, caressing his back’s scars. Gods, she loves it when he is like that!

Conscious and aware of his surroundings but absolutely unable to make coherent movements and dominate the situation.

"Can't sleep."

"Considering what we've been through it's rather alarming", he wakes up and leans on his elbows and Tiriel shivers, feeling the cold air between their bodies.

And then he notices.

"You've been crying, haven't you?"

Tiriel's mind interprets it as a signal and she bursts into tears. But who is crying? Tiriel the Barbarian or that nameless girl she once was?

Astarion sits up and tugs Tiriel into him, cradling her in his arms. She notices the utter panic in his crimson eyes changing to something else, something she can't yet identify.

"Hush, love, whatever it was, it's in the past - or we can kill it"

"It's just... I don't know..." Tiriel finds her voice. "It was so real. Now I know how it feels when you are tortured in your reverie. Do you think that can happen to me, too?"

"I have never heard of half-elves being able to meditate. It's something only Tel'Quessira can do. Even the ones with human blood, but who still pass as elves, have difficulties with that. What was it?"

"My bastard stepfather, my bitch mother, and my cut ear"

Astarion presses his lips to her forehead. Then he kisses her cheeks and fingers - there is no lust or desire in it, he kisses her like a parent would kiss a sick child, trying to soothe their pain.

It really does make her feel better.

She sighs. "I really need to sleep. But I can't."

"Then don't. Why torture yourself?"

"Because it will be a long night once the sun sets."

"Not an answer, Tiriel."

Tiriel smiles. Astarion doesn't have any pet names for her - sometimes calls her "love" or "heart" but mostly it's just Tiriel. And her name dances on the tip of his tongue, ringing like a prayer, like a spell.

He brushes his fingers along her ear lobes, then swipes along her facial scar and kisses her neck. She feels his fangs but he doesn't try to bite.

Astarion rarely feeds from her - usually when nightmares grip him or there isn't enough food for him.

"Astarion."

"Hm?"

"You can bite me if you want."

"Who am I to say no to such a generous offer. Although, are you sure?"

"Yes, the blood loss will make me dizzy. And I will be hungry once wake up."

"Absolutely not a problem my dear, there is plenty of prey in the woods."

Astarion helps her to lie back on the bedroll and kneels beside her. She notices the predatory spark in his eyes.

The fangs pierce her skin and Tiriel feels like drowning in the cold water. Her eyesight gets blurry, and a gentle numb feeling spreads through her body.

As he releases her, the darkness takes her. There are no nightmares, no memories - only peace.

***

Astarion leaves the tent and breathes the cold autumn air. Night calls upon him and so is the hunt. Well, Tiriel will be hungry like a starved wolf once she wakes up. And she will also crave something sweet.

Sometimes she is brave and fierce and sometimes she is like a little girl asking for candy after a rough day.

Tiriel never had a good childhood. It still drives Astarion mad - he was an adult when all that abuse happened to him. And there are probably still people alive who decide it's a good idea to beat a child, cut her ears, starve her as if she were at fault for existing.

Tiriel could have grown up bitter and evil, and she had the right to be like that; instead, she became the kindest and bravest person he has ever met.

Brave enough to let him close. So kind to find good things in him. She is clumsy, rude, and loud but delicate at the same time. There is some ghostly elegance in Tiriel, a gift from her elven ancestors. Mixed with the stubbornness and fire that are innate to humans.

Well, maybe, they should go look for her home village together and beat some asses. Tiriel will definitely feel better about it. He still remembers how she kicked Cazador's dead body once they were all ready to leave the dungeons.

Her kindness is paired with violence, and that's another thing he loves..

"Sleep well, love," he whispers. "I will be back before you wake up."

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen

72 notes · View notes

buggysangel17 · 1 year

Text

Three Peas In A Pod III

Summary: She gives Buggy a semblance of an explanation. Characters: Shanks x Buggy x F!Reading (she/her). OC Twins. (Rosa & Azul) Word Count: 1,590 Chapter Warnings: Profanities. Slight Make Out Session. Mentions of Body Parts being cut off (Don't worry it's just Buggy). Mentions of mishandling of said body parts cut of (the twins are little shits for this lol).

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Send Me An Ask?

Chapter III: Betting On Losing Dogs

“We’re coming with you, Ma!”

“You two need to stay here, I need to deal with your father.” You had tried your best to reassure your twins, their swords still cautiously pointed at Buggy and the rest of his crew. “I need the both of you here with the crew where you two are safer.”

“You think I can’t keep my children safe?” Buggy questioned.

“Just a few minutes ago you were threatening them, so excuse me if I don’t feel safe having them anywhere near you or your crew of fucking freaks.” You glared right back on his crew that gave your leering looks.

“How would we know that he’s not going to hurt you in any way?” Azul questioned, one hand on his sword, the other on his pocket, you were all too certain that he was holding onto one of his smoke bomb, ready to use it with just a single signal from you.

“Fair trade would be good.” You shrugged in one fluid movement punched Buggy in the stomach, before pulling a dagger from your boots and slicing off both his ear and his dominant hand, much to the screams that escaped your children’s lips.

“You really have to traumatize my kids?” Buggy groaned.

Without hesitation, you had handed the ear and hand to your twins, both throwing the decapitated parts amongst themselves in utter fear and disgust for the entirety of it.

“Oh so now they’re your kids.” You snapped, slapping the two on the back of their heads to finally calm them down. “Don’t worry, when I get back, your father will re-attach those parts back to his stupid body.”

“You really never changed, Yellow.” He groaned.

With your second and third-in-command, Mako and Mori you had instructed them both to continue on with the journey as planned, but being as vague as possible in hopes not to arouse any more suspicion with the clown. Kissing your twin that were now surprisingly playing with the decapitated appendages, you hopped onto the Clown’s ship alongside him and waited for your own ship to set sail all over again. Glimpses of your twins’ worry was reassured with a smile from you.

“Wanna explain why you freely gave yourself up to me again?” Buggy questioned as soon as you have no longer seen sight of the ship.

“I didn’t give up anything.” You shrugged turning to face him, ignoring the other eyes still glued to you. “But I thought now would be a good time as any to give you answers.” You shrugged, trying your best to act unaffected by his earlier statement of not forgiving you for keeping his children away from him.

“Ya think?” He snorts walking towards what you believed was his private area, beckoning you to follow him.

You did without much of an ounce of hesitation, the crew of misfits dividing like the red sea as the both of you walked further into the ship. Your eyes peered around them, memorizing each faces and making sure you could see who would be the most likely to strike first if you do anything funny in the confinements of the ship.

But as soon as you had locked the doors, there wasn’t much of an explanation to be made as you were shoved onto the wall and all the air leaving your chest as you were consumed by the kiss of one of the two men that you would allow to see you at your most weakest.

“I fucking hate you for what you and Shanks did to me, but I still fucking miss you more than I should.” He spat, pulling you with his only hand closer to him, and you find yourself reciprocating his kiss with the same gusto.

But as you found yourself slowly loosing your resolve, Buggy finds himself yelping and holding to his head in pain.

“What’s wrong?” You questioned, dazed from the kiss.

“They’re screaming in my ear.” He complained.

You find yourself smiling at the fact. That was your babies and you thought them both well. Give anyone and everyone hell, even their own father too.

“Good on them.” You snort watching the man deep in thought. “What are you doing?”

“Fucking looking for some sort of paper or pen in your stinkin’ ship. That’s the only way I could keep their pipes closed for a while.”

You nodded, turning your attention away from him and towards his bedroom instead. The room is a chaotic blend of mismatched furniture, colorful fabrics, and assorted trinkets, much like the man himself. As you look around, memories of your time together as part of Roger’s crew come flooding back like a tidal wave.

Your gaze falls on a weathered pirate flag hanging on one wall, faded but still proudly displaying the Jolly Roger. It’s the same flag you raised countless times as you sailed the Grand line with Buggy, Shanks, and the crew. You remember the exhilaration of those adventures, the battles, and the endless laughter shared.

On a rickety wooden shelf, you spot a collection of small figurines, each representing a different island you visited together. These miniature landmarks trigger vivid recollections of your travels, from the frozen tundras of Drum Island to the fiery depths of Alabasta. It's a testament to the countless escapades you've shared.

Beside the figurines, a framed photograph captures a moment from your past. In the picture, you, Shanks and Buggy are much younger, your faces lit up with unbridled joy. It was taken during a rare moment of calm when you were ashore in a peaceful village. You remember how his hand had found yours as you walked along the beach, fingers entwined, and a promise of a future you both yearned for together as an unofficial official throuple—as you playfully called yourselves back then.

The corner of the room is dominated by a massive treasure chest, its lid slightly ajar. The chest is filled with an eclectic mix of items: gold coins, gemstones, and various trinkets you've gathered over the years. These treasures are the fruits of your labor and adventures, each representing a shared victory, a hard-fought battle, or a daring heist. You can't help but smile at the thought of the crazy schemes you and Buggy hatched to acquire them and Shanks trying his best to make sure neither of you got into trouble because of it.

Amidst the plundered riches, you spot a small, ornate jewelry box. You remember the day Buggy gave it to you, a token of his affection during a brief moment of vulnerability. Inside, a delicate necklace with a single, heart-shaped pendant lies nestled. It's a symbol of the love you both kept hidden from the world, the love that only grew stronger as you faced the dangers of the Grand Line together.

As you take in the room filled with mementos, you realize that even though you and Buggy have gone your separate ways, the memories of your shared adventures and the love you once shared will forever be a part of you. It's a bittersweet feeling, knowing that the past is gone, but the trinkets and tokens in this room are a testament to the enduring bond you will always share, no matter where your pirate journeys take you. Flooded by the what ifs of you living in the sea with the twins so early on, how would your lives would have been vastly different from what it was now.

“Why did you keep this?” You asked him the moment he was no longer busy with using his decapitated hand aboard your own ship.

“Only piece of you I had.” It was the only explanation he could give, plopping down on the unmade bed of his. “I just love to hurt myself, you know. With the past, and everything it meant to me—only to find out you were capable of hurting me more than you or Shanks could ever do already.”

“I had to do if for the twins.” It was your only explanation. “What life could I give to them if we’re constantly running from the Marines? I needed to give them the stability that I know you and Shanks couldn’t really have back then.”

“You could have told me!” He spat standing up and rushing towards you. His anger raising tenfolds now as he looked down at you. “At least I should have been given the decency to know that I was a father.” He spoke, softer now as he turned his back to you. “I’m sure Shanks took the role of a father well without me to mess things up.”

“Shanks doesn’t know.” You admit. “Neither of you did.”

“So what’s your plan now? Now that you’ve just eaten your words and now throwing the twins right into the belly of this madness?”

“Give them what they always wanted.” You shrugged. “They want the One Piece, so I’ll give them the One Piece, with or without you or Shanks to help us get it.”

130 notes · View notes

silent-littles-blog · 4 months

Note

Hi hi hi! I’m melatonin! Do you wanna be friends?

I have a request if you don’t mind could you do Cg pomni x fem baby regressor reader? Maybe with mentions of stuffys playtime packs and baby bottles

Only if you want to ofc!

Thanks a lot!

-Melatonin💘💉

Cg Pomni x Fem baby regressor

Theme: Stuffies, playtime, baby bottles

I am using more broad tags, if this isn't your tea, just skip this and continue to other posts

· ─────────꒰🎪꒱───────── ·

[ Prologue ]

I hope I did well! Ive never done fanfics before, so this might suck. I am better at writing casual things with characters I know (preferably OCs)

It's been a long time since the Digital Circus welcomed a new member with open arms, so your sudden appearance shook everyone up. For a moment, everyone remembered that despite the saturated colors of the circus, the infinite dimensions they could explore, it never made up for the life they had before.

Pomni had a horrible time adapting to the circus, which eventually graduated into an argument with Caine. Though, after the harsh exchange of arguments, Caine decided to study human behavior closely, but very secretly without admitting it upfront.

You found yourself in the circus about a month ago and so far it's been traumatizing. A new name has been picked for you, ‘[name]‘, a silly one at that. You've been introduced to new activities and new people, but your memories have been taken away. You knew something was missing, you don't belong here, but you can't do anything about it.

Frankly, Pomni had the same issue. She's been here for six months, Ragatha introduced her to age regression, as Gangle showed signs of that first. Pomni adapted the coping mechanism quickly and it helped her on her journey to recover. She's been a flip now.

Pomni has noticed your strange behavior, the sudden anxiety and stress that plagues your mind whenever you seem to get deja vu. It feels like you've been uncomfortable when approached with childish things. Being offered toys, or even confronting attractions around the circus yourself.

She introduced you to age regression a month ago, but so far, it's been no help. Only today, Pomni stumbles upon you regressed as she enters your room.

[ Story begin ]

"[name]?" A silent squeak escapes Pomni's mouth, a tone that makes her worries clear. Her eyes dance around your room, with no sign of your presence. Only when Pomni sets her foot in, her ears capture soft giggling coming from beneath your bed. She cocks her eyebrow as she keeps the door open, assuming the worst, has the anxiety got to you? Did you finally abstract?

She keeps herself on high guard, "[name], I- I can hear you. Where are you?" she speaks as she advances further into the room, closer to the bed where you dwell. Suddenly, you crawl out fast, striking her feet with a soft grasp. Pomni gasps and almost allows a scream to escape her throat. Her eyes are wide open as she stares at you in shock, suddenly noticing the hand-made paci she's made you a week ago.

"Oh my... hello little one!" Her eyes sparkle with the sudden surprise, she kneels down and gently tucks her hand under your arms, lifting you up and pulling you on her lap. "You scared me! Such a scary little thing you are." You giggle under your pacifier, hands put together as you let her embrace you. Pomni slowly stands up with you in her arm and she coos at you, she can't contain the excitement about finding you regressed by yourself.

"You must feel pretty bored, no? Hiding under the bed, let's take you outside, yeah [name]?" You squeal silently and clap your hands together, and off to the door you go. Pomni carried you into the main hall, finding Ragatha and Zooble enjoying some tea time together. They both face you in Pomni's arms, Ragatha gasps, covering her mouth with her soft hands. "[name]!" She happily crows.

Pomni sets you down on the ground to let her arms rest and stretches a little. In instance, you crawl to Zooble and Ragatha as you notice the colorful blanket they are sitting on. You get yourself comfortable in their presence, Zooble coos at you and Pomni quickly rushed away and you stared at her with a whine, but in a moment, she was back with some blocks and stuffies in her arms. She set the stuff on the blanket, showing you a cute, fluffy teddy bear, a stuffed kitty and a stim toy with a variety of textures made from different materials. She took the teddy bear into her hands, "Hello [name], would you care for a snack!", she imitated the bears voice and pulled out a chocolate bar from her pocket. You squealed in excitement and took the chocolate bar with no hesitance.

For the time being, you spent the time playing with the three. Mainly snug to Pomni while Ragatha took care of snacks and food. Later, you began to be hungry, it hinting at your sudden shift in behavior. Pomni stood by your side while Ragatha disappeared to prepare you warm milk. She handed the bottle to Pomni, who then proceeded to bottle feed you, your eyes began to feel heavy gradually.

You finished your bottle and cuddled into Pomni, tugging at her hat for comfort as you liked how the bells ring. She picked you up and walked you to your room where she placed you upon your bed.

"Goodnight, [name]." She pecked your forehead with a kiss and let you rest.

· ─────────꒰🎪꒱───────── ·

32 notes · View notes

spacehareart · 2 months

Text

A little MLP AU I'm slowly gonna make based on stuff for me to cope with-

Note: any fandom stuff i do is to be treated with patience as its all a side project for my main OC projects.

Celestia was a Unicorn, but Luna was an Alicorn.

Celestia wanted to be a ruler, not Luna.

Celestia was always pressuring Luna into things she didn't want.

Luna has some traumatic experiences, and blames Celestia for neglect due to Celestia being her official guardian.

Opaline is in this AU and is actually friends with Luna, she's older than both Celestia and Luna.

Opaline becomes the big sister figure Luna needed, though she is a little toxic towards her ( but nothing too extreme ).

Celestia doesn't know or care, pre Discord. Once they both prison Discord, where Luna feels guilt for it. Celestia tells her not to worry about it.

Celestia forbids Luna to see Opaline anymore, further causing Luna to be more and more bottled.

Luna has Nightmare Moon, and the beginings of the Tantabus as headmates ( they are NOT evil alters, she literally could do that all by herself. ).

Nightmare Moon actually is gentle and kind to Luna, and often soothes her. But one day, Celestia and Luna had an arguement over the day and night cycles, how no one saw her beautiful night sky. No matter how hard she worked, everyone took her for granted. So She broke, and Nightmare Moon took over to deal with Celestia.

she obviously lost and was sent to the moon which FURTHER corrupted Luna due to trauma and fears, while Celestia felt guilt, she didn't even bother to announce it or anything

Opaline hated Celestia for it, and left to go into hiding.

1000 years later, Nightmare Moon comes back and traps Celestia, not realizing Celestia was counting on it as a lesson for twilight.

The night and moon is usually purple and a full moon, but this night its a crescent moon and a very dark, almost black, blue, and no stars can be seen.

When NMM is "defeated", Luna comes back, but before Celestia returns, Luna notices Twilight and the main 6 with their elements. She is angry, and she asks what did Celestia tell her. Before anything can be said, Celestia comes and tries to act all high and mighty, pushing Luna to apologize and accept HER apology that was half assed. Luna reluctantly did it.

Luna often ran away from the Castle after that. At one point Celestia started questioning her about it, and she just flew away to ponyville.

She bumped into Twilight, and told her the truth. Twilight was in shock, and dissapointed in her mentor. She and the main six decided they would help Luna in anyway that they can.

Luna eventually learned about Sunset shimmer and Cadence, and was furious that Celestia replaced her twice and neglected Sunset.

Running out of ideas when i wrote this, but Luna eventually takes Sunset shimmer as a student, but beforehand she secretly teaches Cadence and Twilight things Celestia could never.Opaline never found out about Luna's return until way later when Twilight becomes a Alicorn.

#plural artist #Disabled artist #MLP AU #Mlp #My little pony AU #my little pony #Princess Luna #Princess Celestia #opaline arcana #Sunset shimmer #princess cadence #Twilight sparkle #Nightmare Moon #Mlp Headcanons

24 notes · View notes

wentasch · 10 months

Text

Nearly one month since I posted an art piece. So I’m just gonna throw at you a Nomu Shunko sketch.

I enjoy drawing somewhat scary things. (Can’t really call my sketch scary in comparison to what others on this app draw but still-)

Also, I had the great idea of making her tall ass even taller because I can.

So Ujiko buffed her whole body muscles even more to make her run faster and jump higher. She also gets her tail back now stronger and more useful for fights. She also gets longer claws and teeth to kill more efficiently.

Everything to make her a walking killing machine.

I imagine that after Shunko got executed in Tartarus Ujiko, under a fake name of course, bought the corpse of the commission. Then after years of experimenting on her body Ujiko thought it would strengthen the doctors relationship with the Harima clan to gift her to them.

Harima accepted the „gift“ and send it straight to Junto who Shunko has been working with as a right hand for before her capture.

She’s back in Harima’s net to forever serve him again.

As always credits to @sleepwalkersqueen for the Harima Clan concept and of course the character Junto.

#bnha #my hero acadamy #fear of you #oc #art #shunko #juntotakami #harima shunko #harima #nomu #FoY #just further traumatizing my oc

48 notes · View notes

ishouldbedoinghw · 10 months

Text

You Can't Erase Me

One Piece fanfic, part 3

Previous parts are in my pinned masterlist.

A woman enslaved by the celestial dragons is found by a man with red hair. Angst ensues.

A/N: This story will follow the canon loosely; some events will stay the same, others will be edited for the plot. The timing of events will also be slightly edited from canon so that certain characters are included. The main character is an OC of mine and in her mid-20s. Yes this is important. Character design will likely come soon.

TW: slavery, human trafficking, vomit, mentions of attempted sexual abuse, traumatic flashbacks, discussion of trauma, general angst

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

The first thing I remember next is vomit. There's acid pouring out of my mouth and sweat covering my body, and I'm emptying my stomach again and again and again until I don't think I even have bones anymore.

I'm hunched over, gripping the sides of a bucket so hard my knuckles turn white and my fingertips bleed. My clothing sticks to my body, and my mouth is writhing with the taste of vomit and bitter salt. My right hand reaches under me, trying to find some stability and trace the seven grooves in the floor. I can't feel them. The floor beneath me isn't the smooth wood I'm accustomed to, but a bumpy, moist texture that makes me want to vomit again.

Where am I what am I doing why am I sick what's happened-

A hand gingerly touches my back, and a white-hot pain tears through my body, making me scream. The hand quickly withdraws, taking the pain with it. At first, I think it might be the honey-man, then nausea rolls through me again as I picture the not-boy's hands touching me again, and I'm gagging over the bucket.

"It- it's alright, I won't touch you again," says a voice behind me, and I want to whirl around and put space between me and whoever is calling out to me, but the most my body will do is heave itself around slowly. My limbs feel heavy, and my head is pounding with the movement, and I catch a glimpse of dark blonde hair before I let out a choked sob that I don't quite understand. I spent my life serving the not-boy, why do I now want to scream at the thought of him being here?

Despite my mind's screaming protests, the blonde hair moves closer to me, and the blurred figure becomes a face. I relax slightly - it isn't him.

But I can't convince myself that I'm okay. I can't remember ever seeing anyone that looked like this man, he was never someone that came into the not-boy's room. He wasn't the honey-man, and I'd never heard his voice even murmuring in the hallways or through the walls.

"My name is Hongo," he speaks again, gesturing toward himself. "I'm a doctor, I'm here to make sure you're okay, and I'm not going to hurt you."

A doctor?

I stay silent, and he speaks again.

"What's your name?"

My mouth is sticky and unyielding as I try to open it. He looks at me, not speaking.

Is he just waiting for me to say something?

He's sitting cross-legged across from me, and I feel very... studied under his gaze. There's a scar creeping from his hairline, and most of his dirty blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail near the top of his head, the rest shaved from the top of his ear down. He's clearly older, but he moves with the energy of a much younger man, still full of life.

My tongue loosens, and I finally say, "They call me Cheeper."

He smiles at me then, all teeth that splits his face in two. He's missing a couple of teeth on one side, and I find myself staring at the gaps.

"But is that your name?" he presses further.

I really didn't think it was, the longer I thought about it. I think at one point I'd been something else, but I'd been Cheeper for so long that it was really the only name I associated myself with.

"No," I said finally, shifting my gaze from him to the floor.

"Do you have a name?"

Why does he care so much?

"I don't know," I shrug and start picking at the floor, somewhat missing the familiar one, two, three, four, five, six, seven grooves again. My body was still uncomfortably sticky, and my fingers left little semi-transparent smears as I traced shapes in the floor. The more I move my hands, the more I notice them shaking.

Hongo's hand starts reaching toward me again, and I find myself shuffling away before my back hits the wall behind me, and that burning pain shoots through me again. I let out a choked sob at the sensation, and he snatches his hand back, looking a bit sheepish.

"Is it okay if I touch you? Sorry I didn't ask before, I'm used to- well, different kinds of patients."

I wasn't sure what he meant by that, and I didn't ask. I just force myself to nod, closing my eyes and bracing myself for the pain from earlier.

Hongo's POV

"It would be better if you opened your eyes for this, might help you keep calm if you can see what I'm doin'," I say, reaching for a pair of thin gloves from on top of the table to my right.

She warily opens her eyes again, but doesn't relax an ounce, even at the sight of the gloves. She almost reminds me of a deer, with the way her spindly limbs tremble and how she looks at me with wide, terrified eyes.

"How about you just watch what I'm doing, you can tell me to stop anytime," I say as gently as I can, showing her my hands.

Her pale lips twitch, and her eyes are watery at she looks away, clearly fighting with herself. I wait, moving my hands to now fold them in my lap.

"I-" she finally says, her voice barely audible. "I don't want it to hurt again."

I shift closer to where she's cowered in the corner as subtly as I can, holding my arm out.

"Look," I say softly, "Touch my arm."

She doesn't move, so I continue:

"I think you have some injury on your back that's causing that pain. I won't touch you there if you don't want, but I need to see what other injuries you have if you don't wanna get more sick."

She looks at me again, tears spilling down her face as she says, "Okay."

I grab her wrist as gingerly as I can, and she visibly flinches as I press her fingertips to my arm.

"See?" I say, giving her what I hope is a comforting smile. She doesn't shy away as I release her wrist, so I take that as permission to continue.

She watches me with wide eyes as I check over her exposed skin. She's ghastly pale, and extremely dehydrated - to be expected from someone who was just fished out of the ocean and promptly puked everywhere. Her skin is raw and bruising around her neck, but nothing too serious as far as I can tell.

Lean back away from her, I start chewing on the inside of my cheek as I figure out what to say next. I don't want to push her, especially considering I'm a man she doesn't know, but I'm worried about the pain in her back.

I let out a sigh, and say "Listen, I know you're scared, and you don't want me to touch your back, but I need to see what's wrong so I can help."

"Do you promise you're going to help?" Her voice is barely a whisper, but I can't help but be thrilled that she's cooperated thus far. I stand, holding my hand out to her. She stares at it for a moment before putting both of her hands in mine, gripping both sides of my palm as I help lift her to her feet. She doesn't let go, and her legs tremble beneath her as her grip on my hand tightens.

Can she even stand on her own?

I start chewing the inside of my cheek again as I take just how truly tiny she really is. I can't even tell how old she is, she's all bones and pale skin, and my stomach clenches as I take in how malnourished she seems to be. I let her lean on me as I lead her to the bed on the other side of the room. As I gently guide her to sit down, her arm shoots down to stabilize herself on the stiff mattress. I almost turn back around to grab the puke bucket again as I watch her head hang and her breath quicken, but she looks up at me again after a minute, waiting for me to start.

"I promise that I'm here to help, but I can't promise this is going to be painless."

Her throat bobs, and for a moment I'm afraid she'll refuse my help, but she nods her head. I let out a sigh of relief, and start checking her vitals, saving the inspection of her back for last. I start mumbling what I'm doing once I touch her, hoping to offer some form of comfort.

Finally, I let out a puff of air and stand to full height, my knees cracking a bit as I did so.

"Alright, girlie, I need to lift your shirt up to see what's going on there, okay? I'm just gonna push it up over your shoulders, and it'll stay covering your front."

She just nodded once, and hunched over a bit more. The corner of my mouth twitches at her attempt to help. I had no idea where the poor girl came from, or how she'd ended up with some mermaid, especially so far from Fishman Island. Hell, even she didn't know. As I sat down next to her and gingerly started lifting the hem of her ratty shirt, I tried wracking my brain to figure out how a person couldn't even remember their own damn name.

A sour smell hit me as I slowly pushed her shirt up to her shoulders, and I could see raw, festering skin underneath. Bile rose into my throat, and my breathing grew unsteady as I saw the full state of her back. There, settling an infection deep into this girl's back, was the brand of the Celestial Dragons.

And it all made sense. The raw skin and bruising around her throat, the lack of any nourishment, right down to her lack of spirit-

My hand started shaking as my gaze traveled down to the exposed skin of her hips, littered in bruises. My breathing grew labored, and I had to clench my fist to keep myself from pulling her into my chest and telling her it would be alright, she was safe, and that she was far away from whatever sick bastards had done this to her.

But I couldn't scare her. I'm not even sure she was aware of anything that had really happened to her, and I sure as hell didn't know how to tell her.

I knelt in front of her so that I was at her eye level, and steadied my breathing.

"Well, girlie, you've got a nasty burn that looks infected. It's gonna hurt like a bitch, but I've gotta clean it and treat it or it'll get a lot worse."

To be honest, I wasn't sure how that infection hadn't killed her already. If she couldn't even remember where she came from, and she didn't even know what was on her own body, I can't even imagine how long she'd been under their control.

"Girlie," I started softly, "Do you know where you got all this?"

She looks at me, and shifts on the bed to run a trembling hand through her hair. It looks like a deep maroon or magenta, and seems to have been buzzed fairly recently.

"I don't know. I-"

She was cut off with a sharp knock on the door. I wanted to groan, knowing exactly who it was interrupting me. The door swings open, and there he stands - my captain, Red-Hair Shanks.

#one piece #red haired shanks #straw hat pirates #mihawk #mihawk x reader #tw r4p3 #tw sex trafficking

58 notes · View notes

the-cat-and-the-birdie · 1 year

Note

Do you think the Peters would continue to wear their masks in HQ because it's weird seeing your face on other people even if they're all a teensy bit different or would they have gotten over it quickly?

This kinda opens up a big chasm that I'm SO CURIOUS ABOUT - Because I would assume they'd get use to it, but HOW.

And now this has turned into a long post about

The Spider Society: Multiverse Integration Process Analysis

[In this post I theorize and deconstruct:

The psychological existential damage that would come with joining The Society

How The Society handles integration and mental health for new recruits in everything from those in different timelines (Noir & Webslinger), Duplicates (Like Gwen & Hobie)

These are all headcanons based on.....me.

And...this devolves into a rant a little bit in the beginning BEAR WITH ME - But I hope you enjoy and I'm DYING to hear people's thoughts!! We GETTIN INTO IT]

So. Joining the Society sounds swell. But thinking about it for more than two seconds..

Even the idea is like...borderline traumatic.

Think about it. Like we've only ever seen ourselves in mirrors and photos - mirrors being reflections and photos having a shorter focal length than the human eye.

We normally have a very limited view on how we've ever seen ourselves externally.

So turning up to HQ isn't just seeing yourself - it's seeing yourself WRONG. In a way you've never seen yourself before. Some even theorize that your brain wouldn't even process it as you because of your visual expectations of yourself.

So as a Peter-

Maybe he doesn't even realize at first that the people around him ARE HIM, until it clicks like 'OH. THATS WHAT I LOOK LIKE?!' Is that my face???

It would only take a couple seconds to do the math, but it's still JARRING. To see yourself moving and speaking and actively laughing.

Hearing your own laugh.

HEARING YOUR VOICE SAY THINGS YOU'D NEVER SAY. Literally looking at another Spider-person like 'I would not say that'. It must be so mentally jarring and confusing to suddenly have a new and complete external view of yourself you have no control over - even moreso with such wide variation.

And then it goes even further - as trans person like

I imagine Trans-Guy Peter Parker turning up to campus and realizing '..oh, most other Peters are cis.' The emotions of that would be so surreal and conflicting. Part affirmative of your place in the universe as a guy, but also part isolating or confusing.

Part 'Hell yeah other guys', part 'WTF universe' [Like if I saw cis guy version of myself bruh Idk if I'd hug him or fight him to the death right then and there i REALLY don't know I might snap and go Miguel Mode on that mfer anything could happen]

It even goes further to time eras:

I understand why Noir isn't in the Society. Having a bunch of Spider-people from 2023 saying 'Oh wow you're from 1933, well your life is gonna SUCK for the next decade or two cause in my universe in WW2 Germany-'

Like...that's NERVE-WRECKING.

Cause he'd probably be like 'wow swell, chipper. so umm...is WW2 a canon event because im trying really hard to stop that'

Imagine being from the 1930's and someone comes up and spoils WW2 for you. WORLD WAR 2. SPOILED. Like it's a soap opera.

If someone shows Noir Oppenheimer it's like..game over. What's he gonna do does he even know what an atom bomb is.?????

When joining, everyone is faced with a LARGE possibility of existential damage - even moreso for Peters, minority Peters, or people like Gwen.

Which begs the question - HOW DOES INTEGRATION WORK?

How does The Spider Society handle Integration?

I'm so curious to hear thoughts about this. Because how can you integrate someone of a different history, technological understanding, and basic EXISTENCE without psychologically sending them in a tailspin?

I'm gonna take a crack at it!

Culturally and Timeline wise? -

Culturally, how does one adjust? Like Noir?

I was thinking about this with the creation of my new OC - and I ran into a huge problem in terms off integration.

I recently created an OC who is supposed to come from a Wakanda-like rendition of South America - in a universe where the Spanish conquistadors never colonized.

Which is a lovely thought - But logically speaking

That Spider-person has to go to HQ and be told that in every other world their land was colonized for hundreds of years. *vine thud*

Then that Spider-person would logically, have to be told that large swathes of their culture were either destroyed, desecrated or were never created to begin with because of this colonization

- and that THEIR universe is the only universe where their people survive and thrive.

AND THEN they're looking at her like

'Now that we explained that uhhh can you go through an integration course for us? :) so you can assimilate into our society? but the course is only in widely spoken languages like English and SPANISH. Do you speak SPANISH? Welcome to NUEVA YORK btw'

UH-OH. THAT SUCKS ASS. Who's gonna be the one to tell her that???

Of course she'd be like 'Actually, this is the worst day of my life i hate everyone here and im psychologically stressed beyond repair, thanks for that. your society and multiverse sucks balls btw'

And this is not something I'm choosing to put the character through.

In fact, the character is supposed to be about the empowerment of Quechua people and avoiding the trauma of colonization.

But by simply existing in the context of The Spider Society - Logically speaking - she has to face this huge inevitable trauma and reality outside of her universe.

And that adjustment goes way beyond her learning technology. She'd genuinely be in mourning.

She wouldn't be able to connect with other Latin American Spider-people, because she's NOT 'Latin-American'. That idea is foreign to her.

She'd constantly be told or sent messages that her universe and nation and reality was a novel rarity. A lucky fluke.

There has to be some integration process in place -

If you're from a universe like Barbieland, where your society is matriarchal, you'd probably be really stunned and hurt to experience casual or outright sexism for the first time.

And then being told by other Spiderwomen that - yeah no, your universe isn't actually that common. Most universes SUCK for women.

-That'd scare the shit outta you. You'd be like fine I dont wanna go to other universes I wanna go home and cry

On the other hand, people like Hobie exist, who hail from dystopias. And for them, it's the reverse. The Society may be a new batch of freedom they've never dealt with before.

And they have to be assured they are back not and do have more freedom and that's good. Almost like the deprogramming from a cult (into something another society that's very similar).

Someone would have to explain:

People from different times (or social standings) as well.

Sure, Hobie may have adjusted easy, but we can only assume that. And I've talked before about how learning about other Spider-People, The Society, and their blatant disrespect to what HE considers the point of Spider-man - was probably incredibly stressful for him.

Or even simple things of telling a black Spider-person from let's say 1940 that 'you have equality now - there's groups and movements and you can meet black people from newer universes that are happy and free to do as they please. You can heal'. After DECADES of oppression.

Or telling a gay or trans Spider-person 'Oh, most universes are actually super accepting. I'm sorry yours is so oppressive. The HRT here is great and free.'

EVEN FOR SILLY PEOPLE for Spider-people like lets say Spider-Fool (a silly little guy). How do you explain to Spider-Fool that Miguel isn't a king - he's just some guy and NO horseback jousting with Webslinger is against rules and not a way to settle disputes??

They're not hearing that.

Or explaining to people that Lyla isn't a person and its possible for her to be everywhere at once.

Logically speaking someone has explain this to them right out very early on and I'm so curious about that!!

There has to be something there to mentally support them so they don't crack and also explain to them the nuances of existence in a universe that's literally like the New York of the multiverse- full of dozens of cultures and subgroups.

My Analysis -

So I'm assuming an cultural integration includes:

Some sort of Common World History Course

A Social Etiquette Course and a

Multiverse Minority Sensitivity Course that deals with either accepting and adjusting to the fact you're a Multiverse Minority or how to approach and speak to Multiverse Minorities if you're a Peter or something.

Optionally: The MMS Course may also include routine therapy sessions at the Mental Health Center to check their adjustments

So okay, you've explained the multiverse and how to exist in it! Great

____

Now you have to explain THE TIMELINE.

Which is arguably WORSE. And I'm not even TOUCHING Canon Events here.

Let's talk about Gwen. Because I feel for her. REALLY REALLY BAD FOR HER.

How did they explain to Gwen WHO she was - or WHY these grown men were staring at her?

Imagine being Gwen on day one. Asking herself how all these guys know her name.

She's basically alone beside these new adults and Peter B. - and suddenly large groups of grown men are staring at her because holy shit she looks exactly like their sweetheart who they last saw in a goddamn casket.

Like not only is that gonna really throw off Peters mentally - it's probably terrifying for Gwen.

I'm not slagging off Peters here, but I genuinely think that Gwen's first time on campus would draw crowds. It a genuine situation on campus. Like people standing around her at all times until Miguel makes them stop.

Because when you lose someone SO traumatically, and then suddenly they're in front of you without warning - your first reaction would be to stare, and be totally stunned. It's surreal.

Even if you knew it was 'technically possible'. When they're standing there in front of you after you've seen them buried, your brain needs time to process that.

So I do think that her being there would trigger some kind of event on campus, and not in a good way.

Gwen's like 'How do these people - these GUYS know me? What's this crowd for? Why are some of them crying? This is scary.'

She's 16 for christ's sake.

And then someone has to explain to her who she is, and how she dies. Come on now.

Imagine someone being like 'Oh yeah you break ur back and die from a fall in literally every universe lol. Anyway can you go out and swing at high altitude after an anomaly? thanks, don't fall! - just kiddin'

Wouldn't you be like 'nah actually i wanna never leave my room'?. That could instill a level of fear that's paralyzing because you're waiting for the other Gwen shoe to drop (sorry had to take the pun)

Or even worse -

You're Gwen literally just existing and a grown Peter comes up to you and just shows you your own funeral photo. Like ?????????????? You'd be there like ?????????????????????!!!!!

HOW DO YOU REACT TO THAT???? How do you stop that??? How do you explain or process that?????

That scenario is completely possible in the context of Spiderverse!!

How do they explain to people like Gwen or Hobie their 'PLACE' in the universe?

Especially someone like Hobie who isn't with the shits to begin with.

In the comics, we see Pavitr reflect on The Spider Society and race - and when entire identities are dragged into it - it's going to get confusing.

Did they TELL Hobie's he's Prowler? Would he even believe them?

Or did they let him come across a Prowler only to see them and be like 'M8 that's me that's literally me standing there'

Once again, you may theoretically know it's possible. But also - the human brain isn't made to process that. In the moment you have no idea how you'd react, realistically speaking.

The situation in itself goes entirely against the brain's understanding of fate, reality, and your entire personhood.

Seeing yourself from 3rd person doing actions you would not do is like - forced depersonalization and disssociation. IRL.

You are literally being depersonalized from your actual basic identity. Dissociated and forced to watch from an outside view - except it's not something your brain is doing - IT'S THE UNIVERSE and you're watching it in real time.

There has to be some way all of these people are like - capable of processing all this in a natural way like a university - with some sort of mental support and coaching. It wouldn't be possible without it.

If Webslinger can walk around and see flying cars in Neuva York and not care, then something had to get him to that point.

Timeline wise - I can only guess classes are separated based on need and classifications which I spoke about here.

A Mental Health Course & Identity Coaching for Peters - to help them resecure their identity in a sea of copies

A Mental Health Course & Identity Coaching for 'Not Peters' - like Pavitr

A Mental Health Course & Identity Coaching for Duplicates - like Gwen & Hobie, to help them 'regain autonomy' in a universe in which they are a rarity or a 'lucky chance'

ADDITIONALLY:

For their own safety and privacy people like Gwen and Felicia Hardy (NightSpider) stay in separate dorms, so they're not exposed to Peter's. (not that NightSpider stays on campus. Her penthouse is nice AF)

When a Peter experiences a Gwen Stacy canon event Gwen is put on a short sabbatical - usually Miguel just tells Hobie to keep her in his universe. This is one of the only times he'll tell Hobie to do this, but it's just easier and safer if she's not there.

Villainy Monitoring: For Hobie - extra surveillance, for a number of reasons. But Lyla also calculates his rates of villainy. They're always INCREDIBLY low, and Hobie's file indicates there's basically a 0 percent chance of him going Prowler - BUT it is something they check for. This would go for any other 'Villainous Duplicates' like Harry Osborns who become Spider-man.

Even though she's not too dangerous, NightSpider is considered a light antagonistic-but-not-evil 'Villainous Duplicate' designation in her file.

But those would have to be just the basics.

........... And now that I read this back I see that I may have went a bit off the rails...... hm.

Um...anyway I don't know where I was going for this and I'm not even sure this is what you asked for but I think it's SO interesting psychologically suhkfgdfjgkdf

This also gave me a lot of ideas for how the universes work and the web and how close different universes are but that's a whole other jar of worms.

But if you made it this far PLEASE PLEASE tell me how you think Hobie and Gwen and Your Spidersona would adjust to Spider Society! I'm curious!

..........I don't know how to end this. Thank you for this ask tho!! Here Hobie

(my face after saying the most random shit known to humankind without proofreading and then hitting post like i did something)

#NO PROOFREAD JUST YELLING #gwen stacy #atsv #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spider society #spiderman #spider-man #spidergwen #spider gwen #Hobie brown #spidersonas #spidersona #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr

129 notes · View notes

tsukiakurotori · 3 months

Text

Character Intro

Hello. So, I have decided I would venture into the FFXIV side of things after a break from it due to some irl stuff. Tsukia's story has changed much from when she first came into being, but I'm excited to see where this new direction takes her as I reclaim this beloved character. And I want to share it with any who care to join me in the slow, lengthy adventure. 😊

Without further ado, allow me to introduce you to the unsuspecting tiny dragon who went from searching for her sister to stepping into her fallen sister's shoes as the Warrior of Light.

(❗Trigger warning: mention of suicide and assault)

"I was given this power to protect and to heal. The elementals entrusted it to me. They put their faith in me. I will not let down that faith."

Age: 24 (as of the start of HW)

Height: 5'0"

Pronouns: She/Her

Nameday: 8th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon

Guardian: Menphina

Laughing, bright, wise, empathetic, confident, and powerful. A young Raen Au Ra, Tsukia was born into an old family with a long tradition of being master Ninjas. However, Tsukia eventually grew to realize this was not the path she wanted, though both she and her sister were highly skilled. Both of them wanted something else. Much to the ire of their strict father.

After a traumatic event, Tsukia chose to become a Conjurer in order to protect and heal others, and then later a White Mage under the guidance of the elementals, who took a liking to her. They know she is not the type who would abuse such power, hence why they allow her to have it. She had great potential, becoming extremely powerful, though she prefers to use her strength to heal and protect. But make no mistake. If you try and harm those she loves, she will not hold back.

This event also led to her elder sister (Seiren) leaving their clan behind, casting aside who she was, for it was Tsukia's sister who killed the man who had assaulted Tsukia, a man Seiren had once considered a friend. She took up the lance rather than being a Ninja, the path she chose as Tsukia did hers. Even if it was for her little sister's sake, Seiren could not stay. They did not know what came of her after. Until the day Tsukia began to look for her.

She’d finally been able to gain approval to venture out of the clan and so went in search of her sister, only to find that Seiren took her life by walking into the waters of Costa del Sol and never emerging, leaving only her worn lance behind.

So ended one story...while another shall begin.

“Where do you wanna go? How much do you want to risk?” Her smile was dazzling as her eyes shone, still swirling with the aether she'd called upon.

(Some explanation below, with slight spoilers)

Side notes: Her sister was the WoL during the Calamity and who returned during ARR, without her memories of the battle, inadvertently assuming the mantle once more. She fell in love with Foulques, saving him from death and helping him turn his life around. However, he was lost to her during Operation Archon, as he fought alongside the Twin Adders at the cost of his life. This sent her into a dark spiral, leading to her death before the commencement of Heavensward. By some twist of fate, it is Tsukia who ends up bearing her sister's mantle from there on.

Other OCs:

Liena Eryssel

Safianne Sahain

(I will say that, though I do not have much practice in it, I would be open to attempting some RP. I am a beginner at RP compared to writing, but my two Elezen OCs have some leeway that makes it possible. So, I just wanted to put this out here. After all, it might be nice to try new things occasionally.😊💕)

#ffxiv #ffxiv oc #au ra #character lore #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv wol #ffxiv au ra

18 notes · View notes

rafecameronsslxt · 2 years

Text

Hooked

Warnings: Smut? (Barely a paragraph), Toxic (Always), complete angst.

Synopsis: Adriana learns she's pregnant with Rafe's child. Rafe traumatizes Adriana even further, destroying the once almost perfect life they had. Adriana picks Rafe over her friends. Topper and her kiss, leaving secrets to be hidden and uncovered later.

Rafe Cameron x OC

Part FIVE of series. (Can be read as stand alone)

Part ONE- Part TWO- Part THREE- Part FOUR- Part SIX- Part SEVEN

Masterlist

A/N: Season three coming out on Thursday AND a season FOUR is coming!!! Drew Starkey IS ALMOST 30 girl he looks early 20s!?

Words: 4,536

I spent an hour rehearsing what I’d be saying to Wheezie. She was the only person I could trust not to tell anyone this information. “Wheezie, hi- No. Wheezie, your brother– ugh, Wheezie, I trust you a lot.” Instead of repeating her name a million times to myself, I call her and tell Wheezie to meet me at the park in our neighborhood, but make myself clear for her to walk.

Today was sunny, hot, and nerve-racking. At this point, I’d fixed Rafe’s hat on my head about a million times, waiting on Wheezie. The wind barely blows while I stare blankly at the palm trees. They were moving, but it was faint, like they were deciding whether to go with the flow or defy it, or I shouldn’t be using palm trees as an analogy.

“Hey, loser. You sounded urgent and scared me.” Wheezie says, out of breath with her hands on her knees. I look over to the swing next to me. She sits down. “Wheezie I’mpregnantandtooscaredtotellanyoneandyoucan’t tell anyone either, not even Sarah.” Although the words coming out of me sounded more gibberish than actual English, her jaw dropped, and she stood up from the swing. “WOW, play back what you just said because I don’t know if I HEARD right.” She puts her hands to her face in astonishment.

“I’m pregnant with Rafe’s child.” She started jumping around, laughing, and I wished that was me when I’d found out. “That’s amazing, Adriana! I’ll be a step-aunt!” Wheezie seems genuinely happy and proud of me. She takes my hands, let's go and squeals. By the time Wheezie is done freaking out, I’m smiling ear to ear at her silliness. “Wait, since this is a top-secret thing, I can come with you to those baby ultrasounds, so you're not alone.” She sits down on the swing, grinning.

I forgot to mention it’s been three weeks since that night with Rafe and me. He hasn’t gotten better. Actually, he owes his drug dealer money but spends it on a new bike like an idiot. Rafe isn’t ready for a child, and neither am I. We’re nineteen, just out of high school a year ago.

Wheezie turns her head to me. “Why are you sad? This is the best thing ever. I mean, A BABY. Rafe Cameron's baby! Top news article; Kook gets knocked up by high school sweetheart, kook prince, and psychopath Rafe Cameron. BOOM.” She makes an explosion with her hands. I glance at her with intense sorrow at her insensitive comment. Wheezie throws her hands into the air, surrendering and mumbles, sorry.

We start walking to her house. She holds my hand, giving me as much comfort as a thirteen-year-old can. Wheezie had been such a precious child; I know she means a lot to Sarah.

I wave to Wheez as she walks inside, a smile engraved on her face. I turned my back and was about to leave when I heard Rafe call out my name.

He’s slouched against his bike, looking down at his wrist and cursing. “What happened!?” I get on my knees, taking his forearm into my hand. His wrist is burnt and red. My eyes widen at the look of it. “Rafe, come on. Baby, get up.” I force him to put his arm around my shoulder, and we get up together and walk inside the house to his bathroom.

I look through the cabinets and find antiseptic; locating a rag might’ve been for the better, but I poured the alcohol on his wrist. Rafe throws his head back, and tears of pain fall down his cheeks. Then I find gauze, wrapping the white cotton around his reddened wrist. My hands go to his face wiping away his tears.

My hands run under Rafe’s shirt, feeling his abs. I could think of a million ways to alleviate his pain.

Something I’ve realized about being pregnant is my sex drive has been off the rails this week. “Not today, baby. I have to talk to my dad about something.” Rafe removes my wandering hands and pulls me up from my knees. “I hope things go ok.” I give Rafe an open-mouthed kiss.

Not much more happened. I walked home, fell asleep, and woke up to my phone ringing.

“Hello?” I answered groggily while rubbing my eyes. “We're locking Sarah and Kie on the boat together. You should come, loser.” John B laughs over the phone to me. I start smiling. “Kie is killing you guys and Sarah all in one day. I’m sure of it, but I can’t come. Sorry JB.” I laugh while walking downstairs to the kitchen, skimming the fridge to see if anything entices me. “I’ll give you the details later then. Love you, Ad.” Then Pope and JJ chime in, saying their goodbyes and I love you’s. “Ok, ok, I love you guys too.” I shut the fridge, not finding anything suitable to my cravings.

A soft knock comes from the front door. I open the door finding Rafe with tears in his gorgeous blue eyes. He leans down and hugs me. I don’t question it and snake my arms around his back. Rafe’s tears start wetting my shirt.

We stay like this, in the middle of the doorway, hugging each other.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I softly ask while my hand is on his cheek and my thumb brushes against his smooth skin. Rafe doesn’t say anything. Instead, he looks up at the bland ceiling, his arms lying on his stomach. One of my legs is laid over his, and I stare at the side of his face.

Rafe’s head turns toward mine. A blank stare. His eyes are unreadable because they're everywhere but here. Rafe’s eyes bore into mine. “Imagine if we had a child right now. We’d be so fucked.” He laughs humorlessly. My breathing stops. The oxygen in my lungs dissipates but returns relatively quickly.

I nod slowly, Inhaling and exhaling deeply.

“If we had a child, what would you name them.” Rafe placed his hand on my thigh. My heart is beating too fast like it’ll burst out of my chest. “Uh, for a girl, I’d name her Lilith and a boy for sure, Renner.” I’d thought about baby names so much that I didn’t need time to ponder. “Mhm, those are pretty.” He mumbles.

His fingers trail over my shorts. I grab Rafe’s hand and move it away from me. I started to become weird about him getting close to my stomach because a bump had begun to form, and I wasn’t sure if he’d feel that my stomach was hard or more solid.

Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Just let me,” I say slowly. This whole week he’s been trying to touch me, but I pushed him away every time, and I’ve probably given him a record of blowjobs this week, so he’ll shut up.

I throw my legs on either side of Rafe’s hips sitting directly on his crotch. I bend down and kiss him. It wasn’t chaste. It had been lustful and needed. I began to roll my hips onto Rafe feeling his dick push into me through his shorts. Since I was home alone, all I had on was an oversized long-sleeve that went down to my knees and silk lace panties, and as much as I wanted to feel him, my nerves got the best of me, defying my body.

I slide my lips to Rafe’s neck, sucking on his skin until it turns a reddish-purple. My body glides down his. I take his shorts and underwear off, all in one swift movement.

Adriana wraps her hands around Rafe’s erect dick. She looked up at him, her forest-green eyes searing into his sea-colored ones. Adriana wrapped her plump lips around his tip, running her tongue roughly over him and then spitting onto Rafe’s cock.

Her hand surrounds him again, moving up and down.

Rafe couldn’t understand why she was pushing him away, both physically and mentally. He felt they’d become two different people, and he needed her. She was his world, and without Adriana, his world would be in pieces.

When I go to suck him, Rafe pushes his body up against the headboard. I sit on my knees and give him a questioning face. “I- I can’t do this, baby.” Rafe gets up, putting his boxers and shorts on. My eyes start watering. “I’m not leaving. I think we should just talk, ok, baby.” He says calmly, reassuring my doubts.

Rafe and me lay down again, looking at each other. His arm was resting on my lower back and hip. “So, I lied. I was stealing my dad's money and got caught, and shit happened.” I run my hand through Rafe’s dishevelled hair. He waits for me to tell him what’s wrong with me and to get mad at him for trying to steal Ward's money, but I don’t do either.

“Rafe, I’m not mad. I just want you to hold me and tell me that things will be ok with us after tomorrow.” My voice starts breaking like chemicals that leak into the sea. I turn around and push my body so close to his that there isn’t any room left. Rafe puts his hurt wrist around my waist and doesn’t seem to notice anything about my stomach. Which I was worrying about for so long.

He kisses my shoulder gently. “It’s going to be ok, baby.” Rafe’s soft voice says, comforting me. It wasn’t going to be ok because the pogues were filling me in about what’s been happening and their plan. Which is great, but I’m afraid. I am so fucking terrified.

I hear Rafe’s voice soothing me like a lullaby until I’m deep asleep.

The room is dark when I open my eyes. The sun barely shone through the closed curtains leaving streaks in my pitch-black room. My hands move around, finding nothing other than crumpled sheets.

I throw my comforter off me and turn my light on. The room is vacant of, Rafe. I check my phone. It’s two in the afternoon! I hate sleeping in for too long. I run to my closet, throwing out clothes to wear on my bed.

One of Rafe’s striped grey and white button-ups that I tuck into high-waisted white shorts with a brown belt. My phone starts ringing; it's John B. “Hey, listen, me and the pogues are going to stop Ward from taking off with the gold.” John B sounds out of breath. “Ok, be careful. Seriously JB. I love you.” We say our goodbyes to each other, feeling like it’ll be my last time.

I walk into my bathroom and put my hands on the counter, feeling a substance on my palms. The marbled counter has a perfect line of excess white powder. It coats my hand; I run the water and wash the cocaine down the drain, wiping the rest into the sink.

My phone starts ringing for the second time. “Hey, baby. You’re coming with me to visit Ward and Sarah since they’ve decided to go to the Bahamas today.” My face drops at Rafe’s demand.

He wasn’t asking. He was telling me I’d be going with him. “I’ll be at your house in a minute. Just wait outside.” His voice isn’t his, and he hangs up.

While walking as slowly as possible down the stairs, I call John B over and over. He doesn’t answer, and Rafe’s truck pulls up. No, no, this can’t be happening.

On the ride there, we don’t talk to each other.

The only thing being heard was Rafe’s light breaths, cars passing by too quickly, or Rafe had been driving fast. “Rafe, can you please slow down.” He keeps his eyes on the road, maintaining the truck at a steady rapid pace. I place my hand on his thigh, feeling a little more secure, but I know I’m not. Rafe doesn’t acknowledge my hand or how it’s squeezing his thigh tightly.

I tried stopping him. I really did.

Then, a shot rings throughout my ears loudly, I’m listening, but things aren’t going through, properly. It’s white noise running through my body. Sarah looks at me, crying and just as traumatized as myself, but the difference is my body is next to Rafe’s. His murderous hands, while Rafe stands there looking down at John B, trying to help Sheriff Peterkin.

John B starts talking to the walkie talkie asking for help, and Rafe doesn’t take it lightly, hovering the gun close to John B’s head. The next thing I know, John B starts running, and Rafe begins to shoot, and the three of us get him to stop.

My head turns to Rafe, a vacant expression with feelings racing throughout my veins. “Rafe, wha- what did you just do?” My voice is shaky, and so are my hands. My whole body feels like it might fall to the ground at any moment. Rafe’s hands go to my face, and the gun presses against the side of my hair. My hands push his off. I walk back wobbly and unbalanced.

“Take Sarah and Adriana to the house. Take them home!” Ward yells at him. Rafe grabs Sarah’s arms, and she fights back, trying to get away from her brother. Her brother that caused death and destruction to the lives we once knew.

His red hands grabbed my clean ones, dragging me along with Sarah. I didn’t fight back. I walked and sat in Rafe’s truck lifelessly, but I was carrying a human in my stomach. Would this trauma affect the baby? What if I die while having this baby of a murder?

Sarah, the girl I’ve known since fourth grade and told everything to, will never trust me again. JJ a boy who was like my brother and probably wouldn’t understand. Pope was someone I could go to for comfort. John B protected me throughout many things in my life. Kiara, Kie, my girl, she would especially hate me for not being the first person to know I was pregnant.

Rafe’s sea eyes glance into the rearview mirror at me while he and Sarah argue. When he does, I’m biting my nails, looking at the trees we pass by quickly. Things- life doesn’t feel expectant. I can’t wrap my head around this situation.

My Rafe. Rafe Cameron is unhinged but never a murderer. The guy I’ve known since fifth grade killed someone in cold blood and then told himself he was doing it for the greater good. This is not my boyfriend, the man who kissed my lips and said I love you. We planned our lives together.

Tears fall silently. I bite my tongue to keep quiet and wipe my face every time one does fall.

Rafe and I had started separating like toxic chemicals, but somehow are hanging onto each other. We’d become two separate people but fused the both of us together simultaneously. This baby and our love would keep us together. I feel outlandish for even loving Rafe. I feel crazy.

The truck door opens, and we’re at the Cameron’s house. Rose is watering pretty flowers that are full of life and color. Rafe holds out his hand, waiting for me to take it. I don’t and get out myself. Rose starts talking, but words aren’t comprehending with me. We walk inside.

“Adriana, look at me. Please, baby.” Rafe says softly, closing and locking his bedroom door. I can’t bring myself to look into his dark blue eyes. “Baby, please. I need you to tell me you still love me. Adriana!” His words are bouncing off the walls to my ears. So much is happening. I stare into his eyes and see Rafe, but then the gun, blood, everything.

He starts crying. His sea is overflowing, while my ocean has been flooding. I push my brunette hair stuck to my wet face behind my ears.

Rafe gets close to me, and I stumble back into his desk. “Me or them?” He closes me in along with the indignant question. The flooded ocean cries out more. I shake my head. “No, no, no. Rafe, don’t do this to me, please.” My head lays against his chest, his shirt getting soaked. He knows; he just wants me to say it out loud because it’ll be real. I’ll speak it into existence.

“You, Rafe.” I fall, but he picks up my limp body and lays me on the bed. His face brightens, and mine darkens, signing away my friends. The people I betrayed and backstabbed. “I’m pregnant, too,” I whisper; his face drops. Rafe’s slicked-back hair is a mess.

Even if I hadn’t been pregnant, I think I would’ve still chosen Rafe, and I hate myself for that. But, sometimes love takes you like a storm, a hurricane, no- a tsunami, and despite every wrong, I decided him because I’m stupid. But I didn’t want to risk my unborn child's life, running, and the chances of getting shot were high by the police.

“Adriana, we- we talked about that last night, and you didn’t say anything.” Rafe stutters, but he’s angry.

Rafe stands up, pacing around his room, hands on his head; they ball into a fist, he lets go, and his fingers curl in the air. Rafe starts throwing things. First, a fake potted plant at the door, smashing to pieces by the impact, then everything from his desk falls to the floor; pens, a random book, and two of our framed pictures when we were happy. Finally, the glass shatters into fragments on the wood floor, incorporating indentations into the wood.

I cautiously touch my manic boyfriend's shoulder. He turns around quickly, and I take a step back. “Rafe, please stop. We can- you and me can talk about this, baby.” There was so much to talk about, and we’d have to tell our parents. Rafe isn’t in a good place, and neither am I.

“What’s there to talk about. We have to fucking do this. Adriana, things fucking suck right now. Do you understand that? A baby! My fucking baby! Is this what you wanted. A perfect life, Adriana. Well, here it is.” His jaw clenches, and he grits his teeth. “I think I need to go. I’ll come back later.” I folded my arms over my chest and bit my bottom lip hard until blood drew.

Rafe shakes his head at me. “Stop doing that.” He says lowly and opens the door. As I walked out the door, I turned back around. Rafe kisses me. It was grim and full of anger, but it wasn’t rough like he usually would. Instead, it was soft, like I would kiss when we were in fights.

Rather than driving to my house, I make my way to The Cut, specifically the beach and call Kiara. I made myself clear when I only wanted Kie to come because I couldn’t handle the whole group's criticism, but I know Kie would not take this lightly either, but she’s my best friend and deserves to know from me.

After a few minutes, I see Kiara walking in the distance. She runs to me and smothers me with her tight hug, which I take for remembrance. “I’ll start. Why were you with Rafe when that happened?” She makes hand motions but gets straight to the point. “He made me come, or maybe I had a choice to run away, but in the long run, I would've come either way. But Kie, I have to tell you two big things.” My eyes start to sting from tears, and she looks worried. My fingers run through the soft sand. She nods, waiting for me to go on. “I’m pregnant and cannot run with you guys. Rafe made me choose and- I’m sorry.” Tears slip down my cheeks, and she looks at me, processing the words.

“Adriana- what. A baby. A murders, baby, and you chose him.” Her eyes widen. “What am I supposed to do, Kie? I will not put this child in danger. I know you're mad at me, and I’m sorry. I really am, but I can’t go with you guys.” Her face softens, realizing this might be the last time I see her for a while. Her eyes go red.

Kiara takes a deep breath in and then out. She clutches onto me, and I hold onto her. “Can I?” She asks, referring to my stomach. I nod and lift my shirt to see a little bump. She puts her hand on my stomach, feeling its hardness. “Can’t wait to see this beautiful baby. He or she will have some good genes from their mother.” She jokes, looking at me with tears in her pretty brown eyes and smiling.

“I love you, Kie.” I laugh, crying. “I love you, Ad.” She lays her head on my shoulder. “Make sure you tell the others,” I yell to her from a distance. Kiara puts her thumb up and turns back around into the darkness fading, already turning into a dream.

That night I told my parents about me being pregnant, and news about John B had already been going around. They weren’t mad at me, but they did lecture me about John B thinking he’s a murderer when he’s not. Rafe is.

Today was my first ultrasound, and just as Wheezie asked, I did. I didn’t tell Rafe about this because I wanted support from a stable person, but I feel bad because it’s his child too.

Wheezie turns on music and blasts it throughout my jeep. The sonographer, for which I had to look up the technical term because I don’t know what they’re called, had thought Wheezie was my child. I giggled no, and Wheezie started coughing because she choked on her saliva. The building was comfy instead of all white and brick.

I pulled into the driveway and saw Rafe. “Bye, Wheez.” I smile at the little girl walking past Rafe and into the house. Rafe gets in the jeep, squinting at me. I sigh, and a tingly wave goes to my fingers. I get nervous. “Where were you guys?” He questions me as if I have something to hide, and I don’t because I was planning to tell Rafe about the ultrasound afterwards.

“I was at the ultrasound place with Wheezie. Here are the pictures.” I hand him the black and white strip of pictures. “Wow. He’s adorable.” Rafe looks genuinely happy. He gets tears in his eyes. “I think it’s going to be a boy.” Rafe nods and kisses me. I bask in the feeling of this euphoric moment. He takes my hand and kisses the back of it. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” I squeeze his hand, and we let go at the same time. Rafe gets out of the jeep and walks inside with a grin on his sharp face. He took the pictures with him. I did want to hang them up.

The last stop was Topper. Sometimes I hated Topper and wanted to punch him like Rafe, but it was different. My boyfriend Rafe messes things up because that’s Rafe, but Topper is Top. He sides with his friends over anything despite them being wrong, and at this point, I only have Topper. I haven’t talked with him since Pope or the one sentence at Midsummers, but that doesn’t count.

I hesitated to knock on the door, already regretting this. Just before I knocked on the door, it opened. The dyed blonde-haired boy bumped into me. Topper's eyebrows knit together. “Adriana?” He questions, bringing me inside. “Hey, Top.” The smile barely makes it to my face. Seeing Topper is a relief because I know I can tell him things, and he wouldn’t speak to Rafe about it.

I start walking back and forth in the foyer of his house. “It’s been so bad, Topper.” I stop pacing around and stare at him. Tears threaten to fall from the ocean. The ocean seems to be a thunderstorm every day, never letting me down. “Ad, what do you mean. If Rafe is hurting you again.” Topper changes from confused to angry in a millisecond. “I’m pregnant. Rafe’s baby.” I start biting my nails. They’re down to the ends and can feel the skin.

Topper’s tall figure leans down and wraps his arms around me. I hadn’t felt this safe in a while; Being secured by someone felt pleasant. It was now a foreign sensation. My body falls to the white marble flooring just before Topper can catch me. He quickly picks me up, takes me to the boring white couch, and lays me down.

Thirty minutes pass, and I’m covered with a blanket and have water in my hand. “Rafe made me choose, like him or my friends. I know Rafe, and you hate the pouges, but they were my only friend's Topper, and he made me pick, but at the same time, I understand and don’t-” My head is laying on Topper's shoulder blade while we both look at each other. I kiss him.

He kisses back for a second. Topper has a stubble that scratches against my face, which I never liked. Rafe knew I didn’t like his stubble rubbing against my face, so he shaved it for me. His lips are soft, but not Rafe’s. Rafe’s lips were kissable and mine, and he’d let me kiss him all day if it was possible, and I’d take him in a moment.

We both pull back, instant regret washing over us. Another wave of hurt falls over me. “Adriana, this- I- no.” He doesn’t know what to say and simply sighs. “I’m sorry. I- it just happened. You’re like my brother.” I spit out in absolute disgust as my voice sharpens like the end of a razor. Topper burst out laughing. “Wow, ok. Honesty is key?” He says in a questioning manner. A smile crosses my face, and I let out a deep breath. “Sorry, that wasn’t supposed to come out like that.” I cover my mouth before I start dying of laughter.

We talk more about Rafe. The rest of our conversation consists of random discussions and the baby. Mostly the baby.

Besides the awkward lips-to-lips thing, it felt like another night I would’ve spent at Top’s house. I would describe it as brother and sister type, but I feel weird saying siblings after we kissed.

By the end of the night or morning, the kiss is forgotten and drowned out by laughs and smiles carved into our gorgeous faces. I arrived home by two in the morning and texted Rafe, making plans to have dinner today around three in the afternoon.

When I lay down, my body instantly loosens up. The fluffy white comforter envelops me in the warmth and Rafe's intense fragrance, still keeping its place in my room. My hands lay on my stomach, which is making a baby as we speak.

This is really happening, a baby. My child.

@beautifulvoidwinner

#rafe cameron #rafe angst #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe obx #obx fanfiction #obx #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey

222 notes · View notes

justanotherlonelywritersblog · 8 months

Text

My Everlasting Muse pt.1

Harry styles x OC

Warnings: 18+ Drugs, smoking, alcohol, mature content, swearing

Meeting someone who is irrevocably, unapologetically themselves is near impossible these days.

There was a point in my life where I was stuck in a tsunami of grief, with waves of hidden agendas and vendettas constantly crashing against me. Never knowing which friend would be the next to betray me, or which camera would snap a picture of my walking corpse, or which news outlet would pay the prettiest dime for a glimpse of my remains. Hollywood breeds trust issues and kills the most beautiful minds. All because they had a dream, they once thought was worth pursuing.

Growing up the idea of music and having a career in it sounded magical. So unbelievably naive, I studied every vinyl, witnessed as many concerts as I could, and sang until my vocal cords went raw. And when the opportunity planted itself in front of me, I leaped across the ocean with hopes and dreams and ended up landing in the viper's den. And as the tickets sold, and my voice was heard across the world I learned to hate what I once used to adore. And as the stadiums roared, and the music played, my interest in cocaine and booze increased every day.

The family and friends I used to hang out with every Sunday, no longer heard from me. Getting their updates on my life with the rest of the world, through tabloids and news stations. The claws of Hollywood were digging into me, indulging every night, waking up to a groupie every morning, and feeling lost in the process of creation. I sang words of love and ambition but was experiencing none of those feelings. On the outside, I was the epitome of coming from nothing and making a real name for yourself. But was it worth sacrificing everything and everyone I've ever known? Well, I don't know.

I was drowning and quickly sinking further down a whole of scandals and self-destruction, not knowing who to ask or how to ask for help, when everyone around me is in the same sinking boat as I am. I wrote a song when I was younger, it's the reason I have the fortune I do now, it was about how love can save you from the darkest of things. But I didn't know at the time, that even love couldn't save you from yourself.

Or at least I thought so.

A girl with eyes of salt, and an annoyingly positive personality somehow swam onto my sinking ship and rescued me from the wreck that was myself. I didn't think it was possible. A girl I once detested and hated everything she stood for, who was irrevocably and unapologetically herself, became my everlasting muse.

And honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way.

..............

Love is ironic.

It's magnetizing because it can elicit happiness, but it can also elicit pain. For it is the pain that reminds you of how truly connected you are to the person you fell in love with.

I wasn't always so unapologetically me.

There was a time in my life when I would sit under the stars and pray to anything, anyone up there, to give me a sign that I wasn't broken, that I wasn't unlovable, and that there was someone out there who would reassure me that I wasn't a freak of nature. Growing up in a home where shouting was the courtesy, and broken bottles were normal, it made sense I clang to the first person who showed me a sliver of love. So entrapped in the appeal of being in love, I naively went from one traumatic home to another.

A voice that used to be gentle, now reflected my father's. Deep and intoxicated, staggering around our home with shoves and the occasional fist to my face. Isolated and a million miles away from everything I've ever known, I became trapped in this cycle of intoxication and abuse that I so badly wanted to escape.

I was repeating my mother's mistakes.

And the day I realized that I left in a raggedy zeppelin t-shirt, with blood-soaked hands and never looked back.

Starting over in a new city, with a new name and a new goal in life.

Just be me.

I wanted to determine my own fate, my own decisions, my own passions. I was over letting people walk over me and being confined to their ideas of what I should be.

However, I never expected this new chapter in my life to end up unraveling like it did.

Booze, regrets, parties, and cigarettes.

I guess the trauma was resurfacing through self-deprecating behavior. But I'm not shaming my past mistakes, for it ended up leading to my savior. He was older, and his aura pulsed trouble. He didn't have to carry himself; his name did all the work for him. His brooding nature, and downright miserable attitude made me want to be the positive one for once.

I knew the logical thing was to ignore him. I knew who he was, I knew the danger that surrounded him, and the spotlight that followed him. I should've left him and never looked back, as I had done in my past life. However, there was something magnetic pulling me towards him. Maybe it was the universe, maybe it was just luck how we always ended up in the same place and the same time.

I became his anchor; he became my life.

I never thought I'd be known as Harry Style's everlasting muse.

But honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

............

pt. 2 here

A/N: ahhhhhh i'm so excited!! Let me know what you think so far! This is my first fan fic so please be nice lol

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy reading this! Updates will come as soon as I can! I'm so excited about this story, let me know what you think so far!

#harry styles #harry styles fic rec #harry edward styles #one direction #harry styles smut #oc #pls be nice #harry styles x oc #harry styles x y/n #creative writing

37 notes · View notes