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catsushizz · 4 months

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Let Time Pass - S.R

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: you reminisce about the time when you met Spencer Reid at college and had a night of adventure that you'll never forget, but after that, you never spoke, until Penelope Garcia found your unsent letters and decided to play the savior of your undying love.

Genre: mutual pining, angst if you squint, but mostly fluff

WC: 3.2k

Warning: kissing, cursing, invading private property

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this, actually, guess the rom-com that inspired me to write this. I'll give you a hint, the first movie has "sunrise" in the title and the second movie includes unsent letters with addresses hehe.

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Summer rain has always been your favorite accompanied by the sound of the patter of the raindrops. You looked outside your window with a faraway look, your glasses now above your hair as you took a break from reading the unsent letters.

Unsent letters you wrote when you were in college, being in love with someone for so long who you're not sure still remembers you can be draining, you've loved him since the first time he acknowledged your presence during class and when he took you out of campus when it was just the two of you.

Love comes in forms and somehow Spencer's was when he first spewed those few words to you when you were talking to your friends but they weren't paying attention so you stopped and just sat there embarrassed.

"Wasn't Centralia a town that is still burning to this day?" He had asked and your eyes held the universe at his question. You got his name, Spencer Reid and that name hasn't left your mind ever since then.

Love comes in forms and yours are letters.

After that night, you never spoke again, he got his Ph.Ds and life got in the way. You're pretty sure he doesn't remember you, and you're sure he's got his way with life now, maybe he settled down and you're still pining for a man who you're not sure still remembers you.

You remembered how the night went with him, you actually talked until sunrise. At first, you walked around campus and then explored the city together. He told you about his mom, his goals, everything he hasn't said to anyone, and you told him about everything, your secrets that you haven't said to your best friend yet.

You sighed as you shook yourself out of your reverie, you looked down at your letter and traced the dust off from your neatly written letter.

the letter was a year old, you used to write letters every day when you first met him but when you graduated you never stopped but it became less frequent as time passed. Now you write one letter every year and put it inside a box but this time you decide to stop, finally stop chasing your fantasies and let life slap you in the face.

You laughed at your ridiculousness then you heard the door creek and your gaze landed on your best friend. "Hi Pen" you smiled at her.

Penelope's gaze landed on the box in your hand "What's that?" She asked.

You rolled your eyes and stood up from your couch engulfing her in a tight hug "Stop being nosy and when did you arrive?"

She groaned at the contact "50 minutes ago" you laughed and let go of her.

"were you stuck in a conversation with Mom?" She nodded and let her gaze drift off to the box again.

"Seriously, is that your box from college? You never let me touch it and can you please let me see it, I'm older than you, in case you forgot" she insisted as she made the gesture of getting it out of your grasp.

You smacked her in her arms and hissed "No, and you'll never touch this, I don't care how old you are" You glared at her but it held no threat.

"Fine, dinner is ready your Mom asked me to get you" she grumbled and you let out a huff of amusement.

Penelope was never nosy when it came to you but it's been years since you've ever been with someone and she had a hunch that the box had something to do with it.

"Go on ahead I'm going to change in the bathroom," Penelope said straight up lying in front of your face. You didn't question it as it seems believable, perks of working with profilers.

You only hummed and you made a mistake by putting the box inside your closet without locking it. As soon as you left Penelope got out of the bathroom and searched for your box which wasn't hard to find.

She made sure you were completely out of sight before opening it, she didn't know what she expected but surely it wasn't this. Her jaw went slack as she read through your letters from when you were in college until last year, some were long and some were short, with dates in the corner of each letter.

Spencer Reid, her Mighty professor, Her boy genius.

You stopped, why did you stop? She thought while she read through the recent content. She had to do something about it, she had to help you.

Penelope breathed in, fixed her hair in the mirror, and got out of the room, pretending as if she hadn't shoved a box inside her bag and invaded her best friend's privacy, she's doing it for you so it can't be that bad right?

You were laughing at something your dad said but stopped when you saw how unsettled Penelope was "Pen what's wrong?" You asked, your voice laced with concern.

Now she felt guilty, she felt like throwing up but this was for you. "Nothing, I- I just uh, need to go I feel like I forgot something at home" she stammered as she made her way to the door.

"What? Let me drive you home" You stood up from your seat, your mom and dad looking between you two with suspicion in their eyes.

"No!" Penelope abruptly exclaimed, her hand flailing around for you to stop, making you and your parents flinch at the volume of her voice.

She cleared her throat and pushed her bag away from sight which didn't go unnoticed by you "I can drive myself and besides I got something to drop off at a friend's house" she chuckled awkwardly.

You hesitantly sat back down and nodded "Okay... Call me when you get home" You smiled at her and she nodded. She didn't change her clothes but you thought none of it, maybe that was the thing that she forgot.

---

Spencer was lounging on his couch when he heard the loudest knock he had ever heard in his entire life. His brows knitted together as he peeped at the peephole of his door before opening it.

"Garcia?" He mumbled while looking at the frantic girl in front of him, if he didn't know any better she would've murdered someone but that was just a silly thought.

Penelope pushed Spencer inside urgently and pushed a box against his chest, he had to balance himself at the force.

"What's this?" He asked, confusion evident on his face. Penelope sighed and she sat down on the couch with her hand on her face.

"Do you remember a girl in college?" She muttered, her voice barely visible but he heard her.

"You need to be more specific than that, Penelope" Spencer said and pursed his lips as he put the box on the table and sat down beside her.

Penelope frowned as she looked at Spencer "A girl who you spoke to once and never heard from ever again" she said, her body fully facing him.

She noticed his expression doesn't change and she groaned "For a person who has an eidetic memory, you're shit at remembering" she grumbled.

Spencer looked offended "What?! You're the one talking about a girl without context, do you know how many people I spoke to at college? 80% of those people-" Penelope clicked her tongue and signaled for him to stop.

She took the box from the table and pushed it back to his chest which made him glare at her, she ignored him.

"Open it" she demanded. Spencer studied her tense figure and the way she was trying to hug herself to make herself feel better.

"I feel like you stole something that isn't yours-" he said but found himself being cut off by Penelope's hissed.

"Stop profiling me and open the damn box" she whined as she stood up from the couch and paced around his apartment.

Spencer shook his head as he finally opened the box. He looked at Penelope in confusion and when he saw it was a bunch of old letters.

"Whose this for?" He questioned.

"For you, obviously! I wouldn't have brought it to you if it weren't addressed to you" she exclaimed.

"But there isn't any address on these" he shuffled through the letters, they were still in the envelopes.

"Just read it!"

"Garcia, you do know you just invaded someone's privacy right?"

"I know, just read it. Please?"

Spencer sighed and nodded his head. He started on the first letter that was technically open and he let his gaze back to Garcia who was now sweating in guilt.

When he opened it, he felt his heart beginning to thump. Garcia watched him carefully as she noticed his expression gradually changed.

Dear, Spencer Reid

Do you remember when you first talked to me? I remember thinking that you're the kind of man I'm willing to put my life at risk for. I'm sure you endured me rambling about the burning town (that is still burning to this day apparently and it's been 7 years since we last spoke)

But what I'm trying to say is, I'm still in love with you, pathetic I know. But I just can't seem to let you go, you're like impossible not to remember and each day I try to forget about you and move past my ability to love so deeply but I can't.

Do you remember when you talked to me about your mom? I was so proud of you for coming up that far for your mom, and when we sneaked in on a bar and actually stole a bottle of wine? I couldn't stop laughing that time. God, I keep recalling that memory.

I shared all of my thoughts with you, spilled all my secrets to you, and at some point we held hands and I was so shocked because you told me you had a thing with germs. Honestly, it made me feel special.

I'm scared that if I see you again you'll think I'm weird and obsessive, which I'm not! I can stomach a rejection and I'll completely leave you alone if you ask me to. I'm just really bad at letting people go you know?

But I won't drag this on for long, you're not gonna see this anyway, and one last thing, I hope you have the best life the universe has to offer. I'll talk to them face to face if they are mean to you.

This will be my last letter, I'm letting you go now. I've been so in love with you that I feel like I'll be stuck in a loophole where life is trying to berate me every time for not saying anything to you, for not congratulating you when you graduated because I was feeling too shy to approach you that day. I wish I had, then maybe we could've talked more and had the time of our lives and maybe a repeat of what we did when we first met.

I'm just hoping life is a little bit gentler with you this time.

Yours truly

The girl who you talked to until sunrise

When he finished reading the letter he was silent for a good 3 minutes, and then he started shuffling through the letters and read them all like a madman. Penelope had to stop herself from stopping him.

God did he remember you, fucking hell he remembers you. You've been on his mind for 8 years. He even found himself in tears, he didn't expect someone to love him this much. Yearn for him like he yearns for you.

Spencer wasn't the type of guy who got over things easily and he had come to accept it as a part of him, the pair of you spoke once yet he can't deny the spark he felt while talking to you. If it were anybody else he would've found a way to get out of the conversation but your voice was addicting and so was your ramble about the old town.

He even went as far as to pretend not to know about the things that happened within that town just so he could hear your voice a little while longer. Your conversation shifted as time passed and Spencer found himself talking about anything really, he even made jokes that you found funny and he couldn't ignore the flutter in his stomach when he saw you smile.

When he saw you under the first light of the day, he felt himself fall in love, even if the time was fleeting his love wasn't, it never was.

Every time he was on death's door, you were always the subject of his memories. He keeps recalling the night when he felt like the universe was in his favor only for it to laugh at his face when he didn't see you again.

"I can help you, she's at the bar right now, she texted me," Penelope said, snapping him back down on earth.

He wiped a stray tear and sniffled "No, it's too late, she stopped writing like a year ago" he muttered and Penelope noticed the pain in his voice.

"Don't be ridiculous, I know her, she could be writing a letter right now as we speak" Penelope laughed.

"At a bar?"

"It was a joke, Spencer. Now let's go get your girl, Prince Charming!" She grinned as she dug through her bag for her keys.

"I don't know... I feel like I'm just digging my own grave, Garcia. I can't bear to hear her say that she doesn't feel the same way anymore" He whispered, his voice small as he avoided Penelope's disapproving look.

"That girl watches rom-coms, Spence. Do you think she'll brush off her feelings that easily? Try watching Serendipity and come back to me and try again but right now we need to hurry" She grabbed his arms and dragged him out of his apartment.

She stopped when they got into her car "Promise me you won't tell her I gave you the letter" she said sternly.

"But how am I supposed to explain why I'm there?" He asked confused.

"You're a genius, figure it out," she said as she buckled her seatbelt.

---

You were sitting in a booth with your friends. After having dinner with your parents, your friends invited you to a bar where you felt inclined to come, but you didn't know how to decline.

The air was suffocating so you excused yourself and got out of the bar. You sigh as your gaze shifts to the sky, Spencer would've pointed you to the constellation that was present right now.

"The one you're looking at right now is Aquila" You whipped your head to the familiar voice and you heard yourself gasp.

Spencer smiled when your eyes met "The brightest star in the constellation is Altair" he said as he began walking towards you.

"There is a story of an old Chinese legend about two stars, Altair and Vega, In the story two people met and fell in love but were separated by the stars" he was now in front of you, his hands in his pajama pocket, he turned red as he realized what he was wearing.

"What are you doing here?" You said, at a loss for words. He looked different but not in a bad way. He looked good. Hot even.

Spencer chuckled awkwardly, he always knew you were beautiful but God, you are gorgeous now.

You averted your gaze when you noticed a figure in the distance then your blood ran cold when you saw Penelope, Spencer noticed.

"Don't be mad at her, she helped me find you" he defended urgently as he grabbed your arms. You knitted your brows together.

"How d- did you two meet?" You stammered.

"We worked together" he rubbed his nape, a nervous tick that you notice.

Spencer was so sure he knew what to say to you but now that you're actually in front of him, he was left speechless.

"I never told her about you- did you read the letters?!" You exclaimed, your hand flying to your mouth in shock.

Spencer looked guilty as he averted his gaze to the ground "Yes..." He trailed off.

"God, you must think I'm crazy" you grumbled as you kept fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt.

"Hey, I don't think you're crazy" he whispered as he cupped your face with his hand "I actually find it endearing that you still think of me to this day, and just so you know you haven't left my mind either" he softly said, his face was so close you could feel his breath hitting your cheeks.

He tucks a stray hair out of your face, his eyes holding adoration as he meets your eyes again "Really?" You whispered.

His eyes darted to your lips and he felt himself subconsciously lick his lips "Yeah" he muttered.

He brushed his lips against yours as if testing the waters and when you fluttered your eyes shut, he kissed you as if he was going to devour you.

He breathed in as he kissed you, a certain longing lingered in the air. He pulled away to take a breath but then you surged forward and connected your lips against him for the second time, his hand on your waist as he pushed you closer against him, your hand snaking its way to the hair on his nape as you tugged him closer making him groaned in the kiss.

He tugged on your bottom lip asking for permission which you granted and he slid his tongue in, you tasted so sweet he found himself starting to get addicted. You were a panting mess when both of you separated, his forehead resting against yours, your eyes still closed as you took deep breaths.

Spencer rubbed his nose against yours affectionately and you giggled "You know you'll be stuck with me for a long time right?" You muttered.

"Make it forever" he grins, he connects his lips back to you but this time it is softer than the first, you kiss him back as you both fall in a rhythm.

When you pulled back he chased your lips and that made you chuckle "I'm still mad at her for stealing my letters" you muttered.

"Don't be, please. She's the reason I get to see you again" he said as he pulled you in a hug, your head resting against his chest as he pressed a kiss on the crown of your head.

"And I can't believe you were about to give up on me" Spencer joked lightly and you poked him on his hip making him jolt in surprise.

"Hey! Not fair, what was I supposed to do?" You whined and he laughed.

"to make it seem fair" he looks down on you as you meet his gaze, still in his warm embrace "I wrote about you in my journal, all my journals are full of you" he smiled.

You gasp "what? Let me read it please? you've read my letters" you pleaded.

He hummed "Nope, come on Penelope's waiting in the car" he said as he leads you to Penelope's car with his hand on your back.

"That's totally unfair, but I will snoop around"

"No, you won't"

"You snooped on my letters without my permission, so it's right that I should too," you said smugly.

"Shouldn't you be doing that to Penelope?"

"Oh yeah, let's do it"

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Please interact and reblog my post if you like it, it makes me happy hehe :D

The divider is from @cafekitsune :)

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #penelope garcia #catsushizz writings #fanfics #mgg

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seresinhangmanjake · 10 months

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The One I Want: Part 4

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.

Words: 1874

The One I Want Masterlist

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“Are you excited?” Jake asks as he hands you a cup of coffee.

You take a sip and let the liquid run down your throat, then pull the cup away from your face to examine it. Your eyes dart from the caramel-colored drink to your roommate and back. He keeps getting it right, and you don’t know how. It’s as if you wrote the exact measurements of the contents of your usual coffee order on a sticky note and slapped it on the fridge so he had no choice but to memorize it.

“Thank you,” you say. “And, yea…I guess so. It’ll be nice to have a reason to get out every day, but I have a feeling I'll be bored sitting around.” Which you’re perfectly fine with. A job is a job in your mind, and stumbling upon the gift shop across from the beach was convenient for both hirer and hiree. But Jake doesn’t need to know just how unfeeling you are toward your new job. You wouldn’t put it past him to try to unnecessarily cheer you up.

He’s done it a lot. At any hint of distress, you find him beside you. And as someone who finds themself lost in thoughts that allow anxiety or stress or pain to seep onto their face, it means Jake Seresin is often close. Which also means you are constantly at war with what your mind is willing to accept.

There’s the suspicious part consuming most of your mind, telling you that people—men like Jake, especially—don’t go out of their way. Not for someone like you. But another itty bitty piece of your mind wants to believe Jake truly is this nice and caring. You wouldn’t hate to have that kindness in your life be a permanent fixture.

Since you moved in you can’t deny that you rise each morning a little less worried about what the day will hit you with. And you know it’s Jake who has fueled that—indirectly, even. He has yet to comment on you or your body or your clothes or what you eat. Neither positively nor negatively. Though you do catch him staring from time to time, whatever he is thinking doesn’t leave his mouth, which is far more restraint than others have shown in the past.

Jake shoves his hands into his sweatpants pockets and shrugs. “We usually take an hour for lunch. I could always stop by.”

“And do what?” You can’t hold back your snort, nor can you conceal the upturned tick of your lips. Your first smile of the day, light as it is, and Jake’s eyes fix on your mouth until you say, “Are you overdue for a new keychain or cheap beach snow globe?”

“I might be. Those snow globes are great,” he says with a grin, endearingly crooked. “You know, you shake ‘em around; snow goes all over the place.”

“Yes, I’m aware of how they work.”

“Well then you understand why I might want a new one,” he sasses, all but sticking his tongue out like a child.

You hum to hold back your laugh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing you’ve started to find him funny in the last few weeks. Something tells you his ego doesn’t need it. Then, with your hand extended you pass him the mug and make your way toward the door to grab your purse off the nearby hook. “I’ll try to remember that. Thanks for the coffee.”

You are almost out the door, out of his sight and so close to gaining the distance you’ve decided you need from him, when he calls out to you. “Hey, do you want me to pick you up at the end of your shift?”

The smile you’d finally let free from his earlier joke falls, and you swallow hard, suddenly wishing you’d had the money to keep the rental car you used to get yourself from one state to the next. Though you’ll have hours away from him for the day, and the days to come, Jake coming to get you when you’re likely drained from boredom will instantly ruin the mental fortitude you’re trying to regain.

You’d never speak it into existence, but your new job benefits you in more ways than one. After coming up short on last month's rent, you’ll finally be able to put a dent in the money you owe him—because you are paying him even though he doesn’t ask for it—but you were also banking on the separation giving you the chance to get your thoughts and pulse under control.

Anticipation has wormed its way into your daily routine lately. You wake. Wash face. Brush teeth. Dress. Think of Jake. Scold yourself for thinking of Jake. Itch to see him, for reasons you’d rather not focus on. Get pissed for the rapid beating of your heart.

You don’t need it. Not the unexpected thoughts, not the chaos of your pulse, not the disappointment in yourself for failing to learn from previous experiences. Thinking of him too often will fuck things up and leave you worrying about much more than just Jake or his friends or the odd stranger paralyzing you from a sudden comment or snide remark on how you look. Before you know it, you’ll be digging into the front pocket of your suitcase for the final two notecards and tossing a coin.

“It’s only a mile-long walk,” you say, praying the unsteadiness of your voice isn’t detectable through the wall segmenting hallway from kitchen.

“So?”

You sigh. Definitely not the answer you wanted. You don’t know how to respond. There’s no excuse on the tip of your tongue, so you settle on, “Have a good day, Jake. Go save the country or something.”

—

You were spot on with that boredom prediction. Hours have passed and you’ve been forced to fill the time with menial tasks that might just be shrinking a few brain cells. Examining every item in the shop, counting every item in the shop, recounting the little squishy sea critter toys after a group of preteen girls lingered too long in that aisle. As someone so used to being on the move, each minute is slowly eating away you.

With limited options, there are opportunities to let your mind wander and, eventually, you drift into your memories. When the urge to stop them arises, you’re shocked that you kick it back. And before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re grabbing a pocket-sized navy-colored notebook and a pen with a plastic seashell for a cap.

A self-help book you’d skimmed a year prior suggested writing things down to process trauma and grief. The author-slash-therapist didn’t ask for well-detailed memories and feelings, but instead, a quick scribbling of the first things that come to mind. Despite how simple the task seemed, you hadn’t considered it. It seemed silly to relive the pain, to rip open wounds. Even poorly stitched wounds, you won’t deny, that left ragged and raised scars. You’d just been content with no longer bleeding.

But recently, you’ve neglected a pulling; a string threaded and knotted into your heart with a force trying to tug it free from the confines of your chest. Though you know that would only serve one unenticing purpose, to demand you examine the organ and assess the damage time has worn into it, you don’t reconsider flipping open the cover of the notebook.

With a free mind, you write down names, places, and towns. You write down words that were thrown at you. You write down the first time someone attacked your most vulnerable parts. And the things said and done that drove you out of one location and onto the next. You write until pages of white are filled with what could only be compared to an insane person's pastime. You write until another customer comes in just as the sun begins to fade.

You feel her presence before you look up from the notebook in your lap, and when you finally do, you internally flinch at the sight.

The pin-straight yellow strands of her hair reach a few inches below her shoulders, her lips are coated in bright red, and her eyes are enhanced with heavy dark shadow tones. She is tits shoved together, pushing cleavage out the low V of her camisole, and tight ass filling out tighter, dangerously short, shorts, and tiny waist a man could wrap his hands around and touch fingertips. She’s everything you avoid, and she pays you no mind as she makes her way to the mugs at the back corner of the store before heading for the t-shirts.

It’s obvious she entered with a mission when you find her not one minute later standing in front of you and setting the items on the counter. As you scan and wrap the mug and place it in the bag with the shirt, you don’t miss the similar words written across both cheap gifts. My Boyfriend is a Naval Aviator flows in cursive script over the chest of the shirt. My Girlfriend F*cks a Naval Aviator curves with the rounded shape of the mug.

You wonder if that boyfriend is one of Jake’s friends. Rooster does have a girlfriend and you have no way of knowing if this woman is his type. You kind of hope she isn’t.

“It’s sixteen dollars even,” you mutter.

She reaches into her cami and pulls out a twenty, slamming it down on the glass countertop that doubles as a display case for the slightly more expensive, yet still cheap, merchandise. The leftover four dollars are then shoved back between her push-up bra and breast. The bag is ripped from your hand and she promptly exits.

That’s one way to end a first day, you think. At least it was one more thing to do with your time. Annoying kids, a notebook you’re not going to dare touch for a few days, and a woman with underlying anger issues who reminds you too much of your past. You deflate as you realize tomorrow is not likely to end up nearly as eventful.

Closing the shop is, thankfully, a quick process, because you’d like to make it back to the apartment before the moon and stars become your main light source. Walking home in the dark doesn’t suit you but you weren’t about to accept Jake’s offer knowing it likely wouldn’t stop there. First he’ll be picking you up, then it’ll develop into him dropping you off, then you’ll be hanging out with him and his friends every weekend. And then what? What good will any of that do you?

As it turns out, though, you don’t have a choice.

Once the building door is shut and locked, you turn to find a black truck pulling up beside you. Your heart misses its next beat as fear grips you, but then you recognize the vehicle. The passenger window rolls down to reveal sandy blond hair, then green eyes, then sharp nose, then wide grin.

“You didn’t actually say no,” Jake says.

Fuck.

With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you step closer, wrap your fingers around the car door handle, and pull.

---

A/N: ended up having to do something tonight, so this part came a little early. I hope you liked it :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath

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be-missed · 8 months

Text

Rule Breaker

Wednesday Addams X Vampire!Fem!Reader

(Picture not mine)

Summary: Wednesday Addams, punished librarian, clashes with Y/N, a rule-breaking vampire. Can Wednesday keep with the antics, or will Y/N push her limits?

A/N: OOC Wednesday (probably) here is a story, my first one for Wednesday. Wednesday was punished by Weems so she's in a Library duty. A short one, I just want to write.

Warnings: Curse words, blood sucking, notify me if there are any.

Masterlist

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Echoes of book that fell down from the farthest side of the library can be heard from where Wednesday is. The girl was returning scattered books that students have left on tables that they were once occupied. With a huff, Wednesday let the book on her hand fall on the pile of books in her pushcart and started to walk her way down the aisle.

While walking and getting close to the area of her destination, she can hear a heavy breathing and silent moans. Taking her last step, she was faced by Y/N who is a vampire and man who is on his knees.

"You're getting the wrong idea" Y/N said looking like a deer caught in head lights, trying to hold the man's head in front of her and trying to wipe her face. Wednesday, not surprised with what Y/N is doing just shrugs her shoulder and said "Your action is disrupting the ambient tranquility, and it's adversely impacting the pristine condition of the flooring."

Y/N then pushed the man making it lying on the pristine wood flooring of the Library that made Wednesday's face scrunch, oh how Wednesday wish that she was not the one tasked to be cleaning the floors.

"I'm sorry, they are following me and I have no place to go, so I-" before Y/N gets to finish her sentence, Wednesday cuts her off and said "You know that you can't eat inside the library, yes?" and Y/N nods, Wednesday continues "This is your first offence, you can't bring your food inside or eat inside the library."

Y/N tries to defend herself and says "I know, I'm sorry I have nowhere to g-" but Wednesday cuts her off again, "I couldn't care less about your lame excuses; you're well aware of the rules, so adhere to them. Consider this your first offence"

With a pout, Y/N nods and hold the lifeless man on a kneeling position so she can continue to drain his blood out. But before her fangs touch the man's neck, a book was thrown into her direction. "I said no eating inside the library. Go somewhere else" Wednesday said and Y/N groaned trying to massage her head that was hit by the book, before Y/N leaves, Wednesday added "Oh, of course, after you eat, go back here and clean the mess that you made."

"This is so unfair" Y/N whispers as she see Wednesday disappearing into the see of bookshelves.

A week have passed after the said rule breaking that Y/N did and she was now second in line on the counter for her to borrow the book that she needs for their botany class. She's trying to ready herself to face Wednesday but a voice have popped her out of her bubble.

"I need your I.D" Wednesday asked with her monotone voice and her life-sucking stare. Y/N then opened her bag and tries to find her I.D inside, she seems to have a hard time finding it inside knowing that her bag is carrying a lot of things, from pencil, to beans of plants, to a finger, and a fucking protein shaker.

"Its hanging around your neck, dimwit" Wednesday said with a smirk on her face, looking at Y/N, thinking how dumb can the other girl can be. With that, Y/N gave her I.D to the other girl and stares at her feet. While Wednesday is logging the borrowed book, Y/N the mutters "He's a bad guy, just so you know."

Wednesday not paying attention to what Y/N and continuing to do her duty. Y/N then tapped the table that got Wednesday's attention repeated what she said, "He's a bad guy, the one that you saw."

With a blank look and a scrunched eyebrow, Wednesday said "I don't care about your preference, all I care is you follow the rules and be clean when you are inside the hall." Wednesday then gives Y/N the book that she's trying to borrow, she then gets up the counter and went to the pushcart to return books.

When Wednesday was out of sight, Y/N then pulls the bunched up roses that she picked from the bushes in the garden that she painted black; "A for effort" Y/N thought, if she can't find a black rose then might as well do it herself.

She goes around the counter and put the black roses and the box of dark chocolate beside Wednesday's bag where she saw Thing, everyone knows Thing. They waved to each other and Y/N tells "Please let this be a secret, okay? I'll give you 2 bottles of hand lotions." Y/N bribed and Thing agrees.

Every other day, Y/N just strolls down the library aisle just to get a glimpse of Wednesday with her pushcart in tow, returning books from where they belong to. In every time that Y/N gets caught by Wednesday, Y/N tries to pretend that she's finding a book.

In an instance, when they were in an aisle and Y/N got caught by Wednesday, she then grabbed the nearest book in front of her and acts that she is reading it.

"Are you following me?" Wednesday asked getting closer to Y/N, the other girl then said "Oh, Wednesday, you're here, I didn't see you there" and ended it with a nervous chuckle. Wednesday then just stared at the other girl for a good second and says "You're reading the book upside down and that's a bible you're holding. If you're gonna lie, better sure you have a great alibi"

Y/N then feels a burn on her hand and muttered curses, she then looked up, trying to find in what section they are, "Why the fuck is a bible in the Fictional section? Did you plan this?" Y/N then looked at Wednesday, blowing her burned hand. Wednesday then smirked "Of course, I know what you're doing. You are going in here every other day and you are following me. So what I did was to set you up and make yourself burn your own hand" Wednesday ended her sentence with a chuckle.

"Damn it, okay, I surrender. You are right I'm going here every other day and I'M following you" Y/N admitted, Wednesday then answered "That's not a good plan. If you're trying to kill me, try to come up of a plan that is foolproof" Wednesday then scoff and left Y/N.

Y/N was left with herself and says, "I'm not trying to kill you..."

Black colored roses and boxes of dark chocolate didn't finish there, Y/N tries so hard to put those near Wednesday's bag every week, with a written poem from Wednesday's favorite author or a miniature of a torturing tool that she made.

Another week have passed and finals season is coming, the Library has extended its working hours to accommodate the students that wants to study for their upcoming test.

Wednesday was walking around trying to check if there are naughty students that would use the Library premises for other purposes other than studying, and with that, she's right. She saw drops of blood on the hardwood floor, following the leak, she then saw Y/N.

With a look that can kill, Wednesday stared at Y/N's back where a pool of blood can be seen below her, "What did I say with eating your food inside the library?" Wednesday said with a stern voice, Y/N's back still facing Wednesday and is trying to ignore the other girl.

Wednesday's blood boil with such disregard that Y/N is giving her, she then walked towards the other girl and grabs her shoulders to make her face, and then there was Y/N; clutching her side, leaking with blood, her fangs out, and a disheveled look.

"I didn't eat my food inside, I swear" Y/N whispers, and then groan, still clutching her side that is bleeding. "What happened to you?" Wednesday said with a concerned voice, not because she is pitying Y/N, but she thinks that another monster is back in town, meaning another mystery can be solved.

Y/N said no response since she was focusing to clutch her side that was bleeding. Wednesday noticed that the vampire is losing blood, so what she did was she let Y/N fall into her side and helping her walk, "Where are we going?" Y/N asked, Wednesday then answered "To my room, I'm gonna stitch you up"

Y/N smiled at the thought that Wednesday did care about her and said "So you care about me?" with a scoff, Wednesday looked at Y/N ridiculously and answered "I'm not pathetic like the others, I need you alive so I have an intel on the new monster."

Y/N stopped on her tracks and looked at Wednesday, the other girl then said "Why are you stopping? I need you alive, come on." With a deep sigh, Y/N then continued to walk until they reached Wednesday's room, Enid was out, trying to study for their finals with the group.

Wednesday laid Y/N on her bed while she's trying to find her operation kit that she uses to dissect animals. Y/N was trying to fight her eyes that were trying to close. With a light slap on her face, Wednesday appeared on top of her, sitting in her crotch with a needle and a surgical tweezers on the other.

"Try not to flinch and yell. If you do, I might as well gag your mouth with a cloth" Wednesday then started to stitch Y/N up, knowing that even Y/N can heal herself, this slash is bigger and deeper. Y/N bites her arm to muffle the groans that she was letting out.

As Wednesday closes up the wound, she looks up at Y/N, now with her eyes closed, steady breathing, and a tear stained face. Wednesday checks Y/N's pulse, and getting a heart attack for a second because she only feels a weak heartbeat then realizing that Y/N is a vampire, of course she have a weak pulse.

Wednesday then cursed herself and thinks, why is she acting like a fool in front of this foolish vampire who almost got herself killed. Of course Wednesday knows that the black colored roses, the boxes of dark chocolates, and the miniatures come from the vampire.

It was a lame gesture and a cliché way to show affection, but it doesn't mean that Wednesday didn't like it. It also doesn't help that it came from Y/N, the vampire that is an achiever in all of her classes that she rivals with, but acts so foolish and brainless when it's just the two of them.

Hours have passed, Wednesday is seating in front of her typewriter, continuing the chapter that she left unfished when she heard a movement from her bed, "Don't move, your stitches will be opened" Wednesday said with a stern voice, not looking at Y/N who goes back on laying.

Y/N's eyes then scanned around the room, this wasn't her first time in here because she got partnered with Enid, but mostly with Wednesday on their projects. And in every time that she got partnered with Wednesday, every braincell of hers that almost know all of the information in the world, will be erased when she looks in Wednesday's eyes, or even if Wednesday is just an arm away from her. She gets so dumb and she be acting like a fool in front of Wednesday, when in fact, she is one of the most brightest student of Nevermore.

Y/N then noticed the empty boxes of chocolate that she gave Wednesday near the trash bin and it made her smile, knowing that Wednesday did eat what she gave her. "What kind of poison did you put on the chocolates? I'm starting to think that I'm getting immune to them" Wednesday stuttered, Y/N then acted clueless "Huh? What do yo mean? I don't even know that brand" and chuckles.

Wednesday then stood up and went closer to Y/N and said, "Stop lying, I know you're the one that's leaving the roses, the chocolates, and the miniatures beside my bag. I'm telling you that it is impressive." With a confused look, Y/N then said "What do you mean poison, Wednesday?"

Wednesday then chuckles "Aren't you trying to kill me? I'm telling you that this poisoned chocolate roulette is a fun way. Now tell me, how many poisoned chocolates do you put inside the box?" Y/N then rolled her eyes, perplexed with Wednesday's view of her gestures.

"Again, Addams, I'm not trying to kill you, okay? The chocolates aren't poisoned. It's not what I'M doing you dumbass" Y/N said trying to sit down from Wednesday's bed. With a smirk Wednesday then answered the vampire "What are you doing then?", challenging the vampire to admit her feelings and to not play around.

"I'm trying to..." Y/N said trying to toy at the loose thread on Wednesday's blanket, "I'm trying to cour-" Y/N got interrupted by an opening door, where Enid is standing, books in front of her.

"Wednesday, a little help?" Enid squeaked out, trying to balance the mountain of books in front of her, Wednesday have no choice but to help her. Putting down the books on her table, Enid then saw Y/N on Wednesday's bed with an annoyed look, then looking at Wednesday scowling at her.

A silence has eaten the room not until Enid said "Oh... I did interrupt something, huh?" With a nervous chuckle, Enid collected her bag and hurries to get out of the room and closed the door.

Waiting for a few minutes, Wednesday then looked at the girl who is sitting on her bed and say, "As you were saying?" with a raised eye brow. Y/N then answered "Never mind that, you were right, I'm trying to kill you."

Wednesday brows met in the middle and she started to clench her fust, because she knows that Y/N will clearly say another thing. Y/N then tries to weakly stand up from Wednesday bed. Nearly falling to the ground, but thankful that Wednesday caught her.

The goth girl sat them on the floor and looks at Y/N's eyes, "Tell me the truth and I'll let you go" Wednesday tells the other girl, Y/N then shakes her head and said "I told you the truth Wednesday, you caught me, I thought that was a foolproof plan and I am wrong."

Wednesday getting annoyed with the other girl said, "You're gonna tell me another thing, Y/N, don't lie to me." Y/N then looked at Wednesday's burning stare, she have no room to run and she was to weak to fight. so with a sigh she tells "'Okay Wednesday, I was doing it to court you, okay? I don't know what else to do, I got so dumb when I'm in front of you and I act like a fool when you are with me. So I can't think of any other way to make you know that I like you and I will die for you, heck, I would even kill for you."

Y/N ended her statement looking at Wednesday's eye. A few beats of silence have passed and a smile grew from Wednesday's lips.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Hope you like this! Thank you for the support! Comments are appreciated, I wanna know what you think. Also, I do not ignore your comments, I just forget to reply, I would get to them soon.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #fanfic #fiction #jenna ortega imagine #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x yn #wednesday addams

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throneofsapphics · 1 month

Text

track 32

Fenrys x Reader x Lorcan

Summary: Cursed to fall in love, only to have everything ripped away from you, moving on to your next life already feels like a drag, only things don't quite follow their usual patterns.

Warnings: discussions of death, Maeve, brief description of torture, happy ending

Word Count: 8077

A/N: the HAPPIEST of birthdays to @whisperingmidnights <3 I hope you have an amazing day (& thank you to @rowaelinsdaughter for your help)

You tumbled into your new body. Again. At least this time the Gods let you skip through the childhood years, instead flooding your mind with memories of your new past. You could only be a toddler so many times before truly losing the last grip on your sanity.

You’d think so much pain and suffering would flood together, the lives all melting into one giant messed up pot but instead each experience remained distinctly painful to you. Distinctly full of suffering and sour memories. You, obviously, hadn’t survived a single one and your trek across the multiverse was written in blood.

It took you up until life 15 to really stop holding onto so many grudges, especially considering you seemed to be destined to fall for the same people each time. Not the same types of people, but the actual same person.

Whoever put a curse on you had been clever. If you were cursed, perhaps you were just really damn unlucky. But right now you needed a bath, a hot meal, and a good night’s rest. Of course you were drunk. Fresh in from a night out on the town with one of your friends, but you had good some good fortune in this life - your own apartment.

Tossing clothes off as you walked, you beelined towards where you knew the bathing room was. You were pretty certain you’d stayed in this exact apartment building before, and if you remembered correctly each apartment had near identical layouts, the entire building cheap and designed for efficiency. In this life, you’d made it your own more than in the previous ones.

You stepped into the tub, let the cold water hit your toes, partially sobering you, rivulets of now psycho-somatic grime and blood streaming from your body to pool in clear water at your feet.

A mind healer would have a field day with you and you knew it all too well.

Plugging the drain, you adjusted it to reach the perfect temperature. Yes, an efficiency building but still had hot running water. It was odd, but you didn’t question it - you were a creature of comfort after all.

You wondered when you’d see them again. You wished you could say that tall of your interactions started off on a fresh beat, that you had it together enough not to judge them based on versions of them in a different universe, but you weren’t.

Having it together? Maybe, certainly not on that level though. Having it together enough to appreciate their presence at this moment? Hell no.

After last time.

“We’re done,” he mumbled, not willing to make eye contact with you.

“Then say it to my face,” you glanced between both of them.

Heads down. Eyes downcast - first time you’d seen them like that.

“Then I really meant that little, didn’t I?”

“No,” one said - you could barely distinguish who through the raging steam in your ears and tears down your cheeks.

“Yes,” the other said. You didn’t know or care who said what. It didn’t matter. Later, just before the death took you you’d find out who made them do it and realize it still didn’t matter. She may have forced them to lie, but they didn’t have to be quite so convincing. 31 lives had taught you logic had no place in heartbreak.

The memory hit you like a physical blow to the chest, a stinging and pressure left in its wake. That heartbreak had killed you the quickest of them all.

Three days.

It was part of your curse, you’d figured out. To always know. What life you were on, the details of your past lives, how long it took you to do, what the death felt like, every little detail was committed to memory all because you’d dared to love someone a little too much, and ended up stealing them away from a wicked witch.

Well, the story didn’t go quite like that but you thought it sounded better in your head that way. In reality, you’d fallen in love and done something stupid, as all people in love do from time to time.

You and Lorcan had agreed you should try to get Fenrys out, that although it would be more difficult to get him released, Fenrys needed it more. You didn’t have the guts to tell him you needed both of them like you needed air, but there hadn’t been time for that. All of your moments were stolen and borrowed time.

“Will you please release him from your service?” You were on your knees, begging. “Please, Majesty.”

The harsh flooring dug into your knees but you kept the same subservient pose. For someone with so much pride, this was humiliating and your Queen knew it.

“No.”

One flat and toneless word.

“No?” You repeated.

Wicked red lips curved into a smile. “That is what I said.”

You had several choice words for her after, and she’d responded with a fucking curse. Cursed to always love, but to never have it stick, cursed to die from heartbreak.

Even after all of these lives the word ‘curse’ was still ugly in your mouth, still made your stomach heave and back seize at the memories. The times you’ve run into the Queen she hadn’t recognized you, but you knew she was still untouchable. Frequently made that way by the ones you loved.

The breeze sneaking through the poorly insulated window highlighted how water already chilled around you. You didn’t miss that part of this building, the tub held next to no heat and your bathwater always ended up cold in less than fifteen minutes.

You were tempted to stay still and prune, but there was no use in it. A new life, new things to do.

Dragging yourself out of the tub, you dried off as efficiently as you could make yourself, scrounged up some comfortable clothes and headed to your desk. Grabbing a notepad and pen, you began writing.

number thirty-one.

It was a ritual of sorts, perhaps your imaginary mind healer would be proud of you for it, for getting all of your pain out on paper as soon as possible.

Right before you burned it.

Tossing the five sheets of paper on the flames felt good.

Running into them happened far too quickly for your liking. It always did. Life always started and finished too damn fast.

You glanced in the mirror, at what you’d chosen to wear for the night out with your not-really-new friends. The dress fit you perfectly, and showed just enough to leave you feeling bold without being uncomfortable. The gold wrapped around your wrists helped too. Not too much to look rob worthy, but enough to make you feel like some extra type of sheen was thrown over you. Maybe, just maybe this life would bring you a little luck. Was gold supposed to be good luck? You didn’t know, but maybe you’d figure out how to look it up later. If you remembered to.

You felt something warm in your chest, not unlike the flush from the first sip of whiskey. Closing your eyes you could’ve sworn it tugged, dragged you towards another.

No, not in this or any life. It wasn’t possible.

No matter how many times you fell in love and in how many ways, you’d never found a mate and were convinced you were destined not to. 31 lives was enough time to find a mate, a life partner. You should’ve had that done in by life 10.

It was funny, how you’d started measuring your existence in lives rather than years. After all, it fit your circumstances. Permanently destined to be a temporary existence in others lives, and for their existence and influence to end yours. If there was a way out of this, a stopping or breaking of the curse you figured you would’ve found it by now.

A loud pounding on the door and you hissed as the brush slipped, you barely moving your wrist away in time to save your face from a large black streak.

“Gods,” you yelled, “hold on a damn moment.”

“We’re going to miss the bard,” someone - Ella? Yes, Ella, shouted back.

“Alright,” you groused loud enough for her to hear, “one moment.”

One more swipe of kohl and you looked ready. A few deep breaths and you felt ready.

Shoving the cosmetics to the back of the counter, you swung yourself around the doorway, grabbing your coat off the hook and flinging open the front door, finding your friend posed with their fist menacingly mid-air, probably about to break your door down. Memory clicked in, reminding you they can be a tad aggressive on a mission.

Their mouth curved into a too-satisfied smirk, probably that their threats had work. Rolling your eyes, you shoved past them into the hall, quickly locking your door.

“Anyone else for tonight?”

“Just us,” they looped their arm through yours and started for the stairs.

Ugh. Last time in this building you’d been on the ground floor, and you’d definitely miss the convenience of that, but at least you had a pretty balcony view here. It’s all give and take, you supposed.

“Copper for your thoughts?” Ella’s voice interrupted you.

How long had you zoned out? Was that a habit in this lifetime? You couldn’t remember.

“Do I really look that broke?” You deflected.

It worked, she laughed. Maybe it would’ve been nice if she pushed a little.

Fenrys breathed in the fresh air. Maeve had sent him on a mission. Alone. Staking out Varese for several months, observing, but she didn’t exactly tell him what to look for. It was perhaps the most exciting and infuriating mission he’d been assigned. Infuriating, because he truly had no idea what in Hellas’s name he was supposed to do, exciting because he had months to spend doing whatever he thought ‘observing’ looked like.

Yes, he knew it was a mockery of freedom but right now he’d take the gods-damned mockery over what he’s stuck in every day.

Walking through the street, although he stuck to the shadows, unnoticed to the masses, it still felt like each face was sent there to tease him, remind him of the invisible leash tying him to that bitch for the rest of his life. He didn’t know how Lorcan, the bastard, did it with such glee and joy. At least Whitethorn had shown a measure of discontent at some point, he’d even seen a hint of it on perfectly loyal Gavriel’s face.

Something caught his attention. Someone.

Arm in arm with your friend, strolling down the street, exuding pure confidence. Someone aware of their place in this world and what they meant to it. The light in your eyes matched his own. Dimmed, flaring when necessary and just enough to keep up appearances.

Only a fellow fraud would recognize it.

He had to follow. It was insanity, but he needed to see more of you.

That’s how he ended up nursing a drink in the corner of the bar, shadows wreathed around him, cloak pulled up to cover his face. He matched some of the many body guards of nobles around, and through some blessing not a soul had recognized him or even shot him a second glance. Perhaps Friday’s were quite a popular night for the elite to pretend, that or he’d gotten better at blending in. He didn’t know which to put his money on.

Someone, however, caught all of the attention - including his, even when he tried to ignore the magnetic attraction tugging him towards you. Throwing your head back in a laugh, you danced along with your friend, clothing absolutely sinful and fitting right in. He loved it. Every part of your energy felt like it was tugging at him, urging him closer, closer, closer, and he realized just how dangerous that made you.

Dangerous to him, and to yourself through him.

No matter what, she hung over him like a storm cloud.

Anything he might try to pursue with you would end before it could truly began, love or relationship cut off at its knees without a chance to truly blossom. Did he actually want it to? Could Fenrys actually be that selfish?

Yes, if it came to you. He glanced down at his pint. Still half full, and rather weak shit. He wasn’t drunk but still managed to think complete nonsense. Nothing could happen, but for now he supposed it couldn’t hurt to imagine a fantasy life with a stranger he’d never see again live in the corner of his mind, so long as it it stayed there. He was so, so wrong.

Lorcan Salvaterre knew about sacrifice. In fact, he was an expert at it, at this point. But, every bit was worth it for her. His Queen. The only female he’d truly loved to the point where he’d do anything and everything.

Perhaps other love could have come his way, but it had never been the right time. Timing, in his opinion, shouldn’t matter. He’d always make the time for Maeve, and everything he’d done since meeting her had been for her. When she ordered him away, he left. When she kept him by her side - but never her bed - he stayed. Maeve said jump, he asked how high.

That's why Lorcan was trying to figure out when in Hellas he’d become so disillusioned, starting thinking things so unlike him. He couldn’t tell her, couldn’t tell anyone. Lorcan didn’t have any friends or confidants, that wasn’t something he dealt in. To him, there was no purpose in friends when his entire life’s purpose was bound by blood to servitude.

The closest thing he had to friends was his blood brothers, and like hell he’d ever tell them of this ... treachery waging war inside of his mind.

Lunch swirled unpleasantly in his stomach as he thought of the word. Treason.

When Maeve called him to the throne room, when he knelt before her, he mentally prepared himself for his immortal life to end rather early. She must know. She always knows.

Instead, he needed to figure out how he’d pissed her off because she’d sent him off for some kind of torturous punishment. Keeping an eye on Fenrys, currently loose in Varese.

“Anything I should watch out for in particular, majesty?” He was quite proud of how he kept the bitterness from his tone. Or thought he did.

“You’ll know if you see something off,” she dismissed him with a wave. “Consider it a vacation, of sorts.”

Blood sworn didn’t get vacations, he wanted to protest. He didn’t want - or need one. Had he really been slacking that much? The journey would provide adequate time for reflection, for him to dissect and figure out exactly where he’d gone wrong so he could prevent those mistakes in the future. That was essential. This trip however, like most things with Fenrys, would probably turn out to be a complete waste of his time. Time that could be spent doing much better things. But ... he supposed if this is what his Queen wanted him to do, it was exactly what he’d be doing, regardless of his feelings on the subject. His feeling always had been, and always would be inconsequential.

He was here. Already. Fuck.

It was day 2, and you couldn’t catch a break. Is there such thing as a resting life? One where you could go through without any relationships, just peace and enjoying your moments of solitude? No, not for someone like you.

Running away from them never worked, they would haunt your every movement until they consumed every last bit of you and scattered crumbs on the wind, only for the crumbs to reform and drag you back towards them.

Do you embrace fate or run away from it? It was inevitable, what was the point in fighting anymore? You were so tired of it. Exhaustion rippled from you in waves, you were surprised everyone around you hadn’t noticed as soon as you walked in.

Even if you wanted to, Fate, in the form of the most gorgeous man to exist, all bronze skin, onyx eyes, and golden hair, didn’t give you a choice. He slid into the bar stool next to you.

You didn’t smile, at first, but your traitorous heart warmed in his presence.

“Have we met before?” He said, jokingly.

If only he knew.

“Maybe in your dreams,” you slid your hand across the bar and grabbed your glass, drinking deeply. He winced.

“Am I that bad of company?”

“You’ve been here for,” you glanced at the clock pointedly, “a minute. It has nothing to do with you.” You’d tried every approach in the past to get them to see if it would deter them enough for them to circumvent fate, but nothing worked. Each version of you was destined for tragedy with each version of them.

“That’s fair enough,” Fenrys replied. You reminded yourself you didn’t know his name.

“What do they call you?” The words came out, regardless of your internal wince, knowing you were setting him up for a ridiculous line.

“In b-”

You held a hand up and his mouth clamped shut. “No, no, none of that.”

He laughed, deep and rich, a sound you ... had you heard that laugh from him before? Perhaps not, at least not in a few lives. Recently things had been so depressing.

“I like you,” he nudged you gently with his elbow, your heart ached.

not again not again not again.

‘Yes,’ a cruel voice from red lips whispered in your mind, ‘again, again, again. Forever. This is what you deserve.’

Someone cleared their throat. Fenrys.

“Sorry,” you murmured, glancing at the bottom of your nearly empty glass. Empty. Fuck. You couldn’t handle this sober. Were you sober? Your friends were long gone, all found partners for the night while you nursed your worries at the bar. “What’s your name?” You took the last sip of your drink as the last syllable left your lips, ideally it could hide any signs of a lie from him.

“Fenrys,” he leaned back enough in his stool to extend his arm to you, rather formally. When you placed your hand in his, intending to squeeze it to death, he deftly rearranged your hands and raised your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there. “At your service.”

“Charmer,” you rolled your eyes but softly pulled your hand away and replied with your name.

He said your name quietly, extending the vowels, as if testing how it sounded on his tongue, how it might sound in other -

You chided yourself, pulling your mind out of the gutter. With the situation you knew he was always in, that was the last thing you needed to be thinking about. Or that he needed to be. You might not escape him, but you certainly wouldn’t do anything to make this harder on yourself. At least thats what you’re saying now.

“Last call,” the gruff barman said, scowling at Fenrys before shooting you a smile. Your mind rattled through details. Right, you regularly shut this tavern down and always left a good tip.

You leaned over to Fenrys and whispered low so the other male couldn’t hear, “he’s easy to win over. A good tip, manners, and easy orders.”

Fenrys hid his snort in his drink, draining the last droplets. “Thank you for the advice, love,” he whispered conspiratorially. Asshole.

“Whatever,” you mumbled and left your usual amount, sliding off the stool. Just because you were fated to make each other’s lives hell didn’t mean you had to deal with him being rude. Maybe you were just sensitive.

A ‘wait’ followed you but you ignored it. Inevitable.

He caught up to you on the street, calling your name again.

Something else struck you. He was alone in Varese. When did this happen? This was odd. Out of all of your lifetimes nothing had followed this pattern, never meeting so quickly and certainly not with Fenrys on his own with his leash rather loose for what the bitch prefers. You needed to figure out more.

“Want to come back to my place for a drink?” You said, slowly turning to look at him.

If he was surprised by your quick change of tune, he didn’t say a thing, only nodding and linking your arms together. Like he’d been waiting for a friend. The pain in your chest was physical as much as it was emotional.

Lorcan was here to keep an eye on Fenrys, and if that meant sitting in the shadows on a rooftop, peering through a beautiful female’s stupidly open window then so be it. You walked around and even acted like you didn’t give a damn whether you lived or died, but he could tell you were smart, based on how you’d handled Fenrys.

He’d ended enough lives to have an appreciation for it, and the way you were so gods-damned careless with yours pissed him off.

Lorcan should be questioning why his feelings towards you are so strong, but instead he’s observing every little detail of the interactions between you and Fenrys. For his report, of course. He always paid attention to detail, there was no other reason than being thorough. At least he kept telling himself that.

It wasn’t because he liked the way your hair moved, or how you rolled your eyes frequently at his blood-sworn brother, followed by a barely there smile that he only noticed because the shadows danced around it, as if you repelled the darkness.

Maybe you could repel the darkness in him.

What. The. Fuck.

Lorcan hadn’t drank, and even if he had he never entertained thoughts like this.

Refocusing, he committed to memory every detail of what Fenrys was doing, how he reacted to you, how attached he might be and how you might already be used against him by his Queen.

An unfamiliar feeling settled in his stomach, tainting him.

Guilt.

He didn’t want to use you.

But if it came to it, he wouldn't have a choice. He never really did.

Fenrys whistled lowly on his way home, through the empty streets. Still aware of his surroundings, also aware that none would dare approach him - not with the steel and the stature he carried himself with, proof he knew how to use it.

All he’d done is sit and talk with you for hours, in fact the dawn was currently beginning to crest over the city. Hours of sitting and talking felt like mere minutes with you, and he found he had more fun in that time than he had in years, perhaps decades, perhaps since entering Maeve’s service.

It was sad, really, that you could only be a temporary fixture, for your own safety.

Still, his mind rattled with ways to do the impossible, with how he could be with you forever without ... it was useless, really, to even ponder it. The false hope and ideas would only taint the present he had, for however long Maeve let him stay here in his ... his fantasy, he supposed.

He could imagine many fantasies with you involved but the biggest was your friendship. The way you hadn’t hit on him, made any kind of sexual innuendos or advances, thats why he followed you out of the bar. Because you made him comfortable in a way nobody else had in so, so long. Like you’d been doing it for lifetimes.

The scent hit him. The male wanted him to know he was there. His entire body stiffened, posture straightened slightly, pleasant after buzz from your intoxicating presence gone just like that.

Lorcan Salvaterre. His commander.

“Who was that?” Lorcan wasted no time and matched pace with him.

“None of your business,” Fenrys snapped. Aware that he could be punished for it, but he didn’t care, he looked the male right in the eyes.

Lorcan ... Lorcan didn’t push him. At all. Instead, something like understanding passed through his eyes. Had Lorcan needed to protect someone from Maeve before?

Probably not. He was a cold hearted bastard through and through.

“Keep her away,” the words were whispered on the wind - there and gone. Just like Lorcan, who melted into the shadows.

Away from who? Lorcan didn’t say ‘keep away from her,’ and Fenrys knew everything the bastard did was intentional.

Lorcan Salvaterre was here. You knew it, having caught the faintest hint of his unfortunately familiar scent, trailing after you like a hound.

The fact that he was following you made you nervous. Yes, similar situations had occured before but everything about this time seemed so different that it filled you with mixed emotions.

What are the odds there’s actually something good in store for you? Slim, you decided, based on history and reasoning, and you knew Lorcan Salvaterre stalking anyone was bad news, but especially for you when you had ... history with the Queen he so lovingly served.

Someone whose head deserved to be ripped right from her neck, you cast the thought into the universe and hoped it landed, hoped she felt a phantom prick in the side of her neck.

Maybe she regretted cursing you to some kind of eternal half existence, always in and out of different worlds. Doubtful. More likely she tired of whatever game she decided to play for you and set the person who she knew would hurt the most to kill you. Even you could admit you were extrapolating.

Maybe an attitude change could fix everything. A tad less drama.

You glanced out the window, at the rain currently pouring down, at the moisture leaking into your apartment. The weather certainly didn’t match up for life changes, if anything it read of staying right where you were.

Accepting it wouldn’t happen today, you saved the attitude change for the next sunny day. Those practically screamed change in fortune. Or you hoped they did.

A week passed. You saw Fenrys each night at the Tavern, and scented a weirdly careless Lorcan on your trail each day.

Your attitude may not have changed with the next bout of sunshine, but you had a plan. It was rather simple, to somehow draw Lorcan out. However, there was a difference between having a plan and knowing how to execute it. You supposed that made your plan an idea more than anything.

Fenrys had mentioned business meetings he’d be attending one night, and you decided that was the perfect to do it. The perfect night to pretend to get sloshed, and you had the help of your favorite barkeep.

Knowing Lorcan, he probably had questions for you, and wouldn’t miss the opportunity to get some answers while your inhibitions were ‘lowered.’ Arrogant males like him wouldn’t let opportunities slide by, but Lorcan Salvaterre stayed Maeve’s commander for a reason, and you knew your acting skills had to be top notch to keep him from becoming suspicious.

“When will you stop pretending to drink those?” Lorcan asked gruffly as he slid into the stool next to you, his hulking frame towering over the bar and casting a shadow over you. You were a good actress, but he was better, and caught on after the first couple of drinks and exchanged looks between you and the barkeep, who you were on very friendly terms with.

The obsession with you, the flares of irrational anger when another man trailed too close, Lorcan knew what this was, and knew he was screwing both of you over with it. Fated for misery and doom, no matter how the cards played out. He’d be stuck with her, Lorcan noted how she was demoted in his mind, and you’d be ... free.

All those years he’d spent making fun of those males now served to make him feel like a lot of an asshole because he gotit. There was a crack in his armor, a weakness in his resolve, and nobody knew about it. He intended to keep it that way until you were far, far away from him and his ... his Queen, and then as long as possible after that. His stomach clenched at the thought of what she might do to you in order to help keep him in line. Nothing good, and everything bad.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you answered primly, turning away from him. Why had he come over here again?

He laughed, low and harshly. “Sure you don’t, sweetheart,” he exaggerated the last word - turning it into an insult. It didn’t feel right. His entire being flared against any insult to you, even coming from him.

But ... the little flash of anger in your eyes, the way your nostrils flared, that was amusing. He liked the fire in you. “What did you call me?”

He shrugged.

You scoffed, muttering an insult he chose to ignore under your breath. “Nothing to say to that one?” You pushed when he didn’t answer, letting your elbow brush against his, “I thought it was creative. If you need me to I can keep going, there’s plenty where it came from.”

“It was well done,” perhaps he wasn’t particularly in the mood to be insulted all night, and he got the sense you were more than capable of doing just that.

“Well done,” you echoed, and he nodded. Your mouth curled into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

In the future, you might just deny it ever happened, but Lorcan Salvaterre ended up in your apartment that night. You ignored the fact that he seemed to know the way there. There had always been plenty you were willing to ignore when it came to that male, and that hadn’t changed over the last however many lives.

Once Lorcan - once he’d found his Queen, you’d been second. But before that, he’d made you his everything. You never could blame him for leading you to beg Maeve that first time, that cursed time.

Still, on the nights when you were alone, when the rain or a pretty mountain outline reminded you of him, when everything felt too much, it was easier to pin it on him, even if it made you a horrible person. Horrible, even for an ex-lover, but then again you were always an expert at self-depreciation.

Looking at the male now, like a statue of a God carved from granite, you knew he’d be the death of you. Again. But how could you fight him? You never had the strength to in the past. Maybe you weren’t trying to survive hard enough ...

Things had never moved this quickly in the past, they’d always been at a pace just slow enough to be torturous with your knowledge of your impending doom.

Maybe this time you needed to really try.

For Lorcan. For Fenrys. But mostly, for yourself.

The door closed behind you and you slipped back into reality, into the new situation you found yourself in.

“Drink?” You asked over your shoulder, heading right for your kitchen.

He caught your hand, spinning you back towards him.

“I had something else in mind,” he said roughly, and dipped his head towards yours.

You knew he could be patient, he could be gentle, he could be kind, but you got none of that now.

His hand gripped your jaw, tight enough to keep you still but not harsh enough to hurt, his mouth moved fervently against yours as you matched his pace. It was the collision of a thousand stars, a world breaking and re-forming into something new and beautiful and wonderful. It was everything and more. It was the multiverse coming together into a single moment and screaming yes! this is what you were waiting for. He slowed, softened, as if some kind of guilt caught up with him. You wouldn’t have that. Couldn’t. You gripped the back of his hair and pulled him back closer to you, pressing your body against his.

He would be yours for the night, but little did he know you‘d already been his for eternity.

You owe him nothing. You owe him nothing. You owe him nothing, Fenrys reminded himself as he walked out of the bar, spotting you teasing Lorcan. He’d finished his business meetings early and thought he might see if you were still haunting your favorite spot at the bar.

Still, he wanted to rush up to you and ask you if you knew who the hell you were tangling with but ... he supposed he was like Lorcan in that way, one of Maeve’s Blood Sworn, and to have two of them shown publicly taking an interest in you was nothing short of deadly and he refused to subject you to that. So Fenrys left.

And hated himself for it, but self hatred was nothing new to him.

Fenrys wasn’t sure how he found Lorcan’s rooms, considering the male probably didn’t want to be found right now. Probably wanted to bask in you. Your beauty, the time he sp-

He stopped himself from thinking of it. Even thought of shifting now, to a body where emotions were simpler and didn’t drain quite so much. Fenrys rarely shifted voluntarily when away from her, not after she kept him in that form so frequently. ‘Where he was easier to deal with,’ she’d said once, and the words still stung as His Majesty, he thought the words mockingly, intended for them to.

The door swung open.

Lorcan didn’t speak, just stood there with his arms crossed and jaw clenched.

Fenrys felt young, and not in a good way. What was he? A jealous lover? Concerned friend? Idiot?

Then it hit him.

The scent.

Yours.

His.

Entwined.

Without him.

Rage, pure and strong filled him. The scent was particular, and he’d seen it just a few times before. Lorcan, intelligently, had a shield around himself before Fenrys he was on the verge of some kind of burst.

“Not fucking possible,” Fenrys backed away, “we can’t have the same mate.”

Lorcan’s eyes widened, but he was looking beyond him. Fenrys whirled around.

You.

“I can’t have a mate,” you said quietly, desperately. “I never have before,” then to yourself, “it’s never been like this,” you switched your gaze to the window, he watched you try to angle your face so they couldn’t see the tears in your eyes but they were evident. Everything was evident when it came to you.

“Get inside,” Lorcan said roughly to both of you.

He had a point, it wasn't exactly the space for this conversation. A hallway where anyone could be walking by and overhear. That’s the last thing he wanted, anything that might put you in further danger.

When he didn’t instantly move, Lorcan grabbed his shirt, tugging him inside. There was a knife at Lorcan’s throat before the male could blink.

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me,” Fenrys hissed, slowly sliding the knife away and sheathing it at his side.

He was surprised his commander hadn’t caught it, but then again he was staring at a pretty female in the hallway, your gaze still distant and fixed on the window. He called your name, just loud enough to carry across the distance. Your head snapped, you blinked a few times. He tilted his head towards the room.

An over-exaggerated sigh, probably for their sake more than anything, and then you followed them inside. Each step seemed to make you shrink further into yourself, he noticed, that confidence and bravado fading and leaving someone vulnerable behind.

It took a strong hand to tamp down on instincts rising, telling him to eliminate any immediate threats to you. The main one being Lorcan, but also any other males and possibly females in the vicinity. It was absolutely ridiculous, the way he was feeling even if he wasn’t acting on it. At least he hadn’t acted on it. Yet. If only because he was well aware it would piss you off.

“What did you mean, ‘it’s never been like this?’” Lorcan asked and you read the skepticism in his eyes. Not quite distrust, but an interesting mix of confusion and concern. That had the potential to change quickly. Could you even speak about it or would you drop dead? You’d always assumed you couldn’t but ...

“I’m cursed,” you started. They exchanged a brief glance, and for some reason that irritated you, but you kept going. “We’ve met before. Many times,” you knew that would grab and probably keep their attention, at least for a little while. You held a hand up when their brows furrowed in concern, “just hear me out before you write me off as crazy.”

“I would never write you off,” Fenrys murmured, and you shot him a thankful look but he kept his mouth shut after that. Perhaps it had something to do with the glare on Lorcan’s face.

The words were difficult.

Each one felt stilted and awkward, but they watched and listened as if each word you said was pure gold and something about that made you feel powerful. They went through the emotions with you, although it was a tad more difficult to tell with Lorcan, but you struggled together in a way. For some reason, it started to feel like this might turn into a goodbye and you weren’t quite ready for that. After all, you didn’t know how anyone could stay with someone ... someone with the kind of tainted past you have.

“Why would she do that?” You finished. It a was rare chance to ask two people who probably have more insight than any others into how the mind of the Queen works, not that you believe she’d let anyone truly understand her.

“Cruelty,” Fenrys said.

The same time as Lorcan said, “jealousy.”

“Makes sense,” you huffed, eyes rolling towards the ceiling. It was stupid.

“How do you end up reincarnated?” Lorcan asked. The question you were hoping to avoid.

“I die.”

“Of old age,” Fenrys said, but didn’t sound as if he believed it.

“No,” you said sharply, exhaling. “You’ll laugh at me.”

“Try me. Believe it or not, I don’t find your death very funny,” Fenrys said dryly. Lorcan was watching with apt attention, eyes watching you like a hawk.

“Heartbreak,” you grunted, quickly whirling towards - fuck. You’d meant to look out the window, but saw the mirror instead and the twin faces of horror behind you struck something deep inside of your heart.

“I -” your throat closed up, the words not quite getting out.

“What is it?” Fenrys curled his fingers inward, and despite a slight internal cringe you let him beckon you, let him take your hands, let him give you this kind of comfort.

“I wish you remembered,” you whispered, glancing at Lorcan too, who’s eyes and face told you, yes he knew you were changing the subject, and no the conversation was not over yet.

“I don’t -,” Lorcan Salvaterre stumbled over his words, perhaps for the first time in his life, “I don’t mind making new memories, as long as they’re with you.”

You beamed. Fenrys laughed. He debated how upset you would be if he killed the other male.

Other male.

He knew, already, that he’d have to share you.

For you, Lorcan could and would make anything work. You were worth everything, absolutely everything.

Maeve, a voice whispered in his mind. He pushed it down, ignored it for now. That was an ... his Queen would never be an issue, but a situation he could deal with at a later date.

He swore to himself he’d never make fun of a mated male again. Technically he wasn’t mated yet, but he would be ... soon, he had to be. Being your mate felt like an irrevocably necessary part of his soul, like he might die without it, without having that bond with you to tether him to this world and give him meaning. Meaning he’d been lacking his entire life.

He didn’t know or care if Fenrys felt the same way but he supposed he should. He had an obligation to his mate’s mate, after all, outside of the fact that Fenrys is his bloodsworn brother.

Bloodsworn.

His bones and blood chilled. He couldn’t be yours, not really. The realization threatened to bring tears to his eyes, but he couldn’t cry, not here - not in front of you. You needed him strong.

He stood, abruptly, but didn’t care. He jerked his chin to Fenrys. “We need to talk,” he let his eyes say the rest.

He found he didn’t like how some of the shine left Fenrys’s, how they dulled at the implication of their Queen’s existence. Too bad, for now.

“Great. Secrets,” you muttered, and a slight smile threatened his lips, but you still waved them away. Perhaps you understood secrets better than anyone else.

Lorcan led Fenrys to an adjacent room, and their shields went up at the same time. To keep any nosy females from overhearing. The more she knew, the more danger she was in. At least they were on the same page.

“Where is safe for her?” Fenrys started.

At least he had his priorities straight.

“Antica,” Lorcan answered. Maeve didn’t dare touch the southern continent, yet. “For now,” he added for honesty’s sake. “The curse won’t break until Maeve is ...” He didn’t, couldn’t bring himself to, speak the words out loud, it felt too much like treason.

“Dead,” Fenrys said for him. He had no problem with it, apparently. If Lorcan had been as insolent as the male in front of him, he would’ve been put to death long ago, and he knew that. Perhaps Fenrys didn’t, but it wasn’t the time for that conversation. “So we spirit her away, and then what? How do we keep her from dying?”

“A blood promise.”

“Like what?” Fenrys leaned back against the wall, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“When the curse is broken, we will find her.”

Antica. Hot, miserable, mate-less Antica. In truth, it wasn’t that miserable, but you'd be enjoying yourself a lot more if your mates hadn’t shipped you off here as quickly as they could.

All in the name of keeping you ‘safe,’ you grimaced in the mirror, brushing down your hair, now frizzy slightly from the rare rain that breezed in the day before. They're and gone like a phantom, almost. Almost like their presences in your life.

You could still remember their touches from that last night, firm but gentle, still tentative like new lovers can be. You thought you knew everything about their touch from the past, but even they kept some surprises across multi-verses, or maybe it had just been a while since it had been the three of you and your memory was getting poorer.

Probably that.

You pushed the door open, throwing yourself into the throng of people making their way to the one of the several monthly markets in the city. Throng of people, you thought. It was awfully busy.

‘War,’

‘Sending us-’

‘Saved the princess,’

‘Foreign lord.’

The whispers hit your ears one by one like a drum. A war. Against who?

You stopped casually at the closest table, and sure enough the seller was chittering to the person who came before you about it. A war, and the khaganate would be marching for Aelin Galathynius.

You rolled the name over on your tongue, it being vaguely familiar. Perhaps you should have kept up more with politics throughout the ages, you probably could’ve made a load of money betting, but that felt a tad too immoral, and you did fear the judgement of your own conscience.

As soon as the intrigue was there, it was gone. You’d heard of several wars over the last two decades, the longest you'd lived so far, and none of them had brought your mates back to you. You seriously doubted this would be the one.

You refused to acknowledge the ugly truth. They’d probably already forgotten about you.

In the lonely and mindless hours stuck in his Wolf form, Fenrys thought of the beautiful female in Antica, and dreamed of a life without Maeve, however impossible it was he never stopped hoping.

The female screamed on the table in front of him, but he was frozen in time and space. All he could do right now was bear witness to the horrible crime in front of him. Aelin Galathynius deserved someone to bear witness to her pain and her strength.

The female who should’ve been his Queen, and the female who was his mate had so much in common. Not necessarily appearance, but your attitude and the way you carried themselves. So much that being with her for those months had felt like an even larger blessing. It wasn’t infidelity, not by any means, but perhaps a bit wrong he was using Aelin as a proxy for you.

The screams in front of him distracted him from his thoughts and dragged him back to the present. She’d passed out, he was waking her with some foul smelling cloth. Each day, he thought he’d reached the limits of what he could bear without closing his eyes, but somehow - because he knew you would do it - he managed to watch. Witness. Wait. It was all he could do now.

Lorcan Salvaterre knew he was a miserable male to be around, but traveling through Varese had turned him downright sour. At least internally.

He knew he needed to get to Aelin, and he knew he needed to get to Fenrys. For the bond they shared with each other that they’d never told a soul about. If he didn’t get to him, you’d never ever forgive him.

He might be too much off a coward to tell you, but he would know in his soul and that’s enough. He’d find Fenrys, get her away from him, do whatever it took.

You woke up one morning with an unusual lightness, a ‘pep’ in your step, so to speak. You’d never understood that phrase until then, when you felt like all of your burdens and issues had been freed in a spare moment, like nothing could weigh you down right then.

As usual, you got your gossip through the market, and it all made sense.

Doranelle has a new Queen.

Queen Maeve was killed in Terrasen.

You were free.

You tilted your head up towards the sky, and let the sun shine down on your face, not caring you were stopped in the middle of the park. From the corner of your eye you spotted an older woman copying your movements, not in a mocking way, but in a yes the sun is quite nice today way.

The flip side of your freedom meant your mates would be coming soon. They’d be coming soon.

To Antica.

To you.

You scrambled back to your apartment to start packing. How long did it take to get from Terrasen here?

You paused halfway through throwing your closet onto your bed.

A letter would’ve arrived by now, but you’d received no such thing.

That night you fell asleep on top of your clothes.

The next day you built the courage to put them away.

You didn’t know where in the world they were now that Maeve is gone, and perhaps with the curse lifting they felt they no longer were obligated to be with you and love you, and maybe -

A familiar scent hit the same time as a knock on your door.

You rushed to it, throwing it open finding ...

Both of them. Your mouth parted, words not quite leaving your lips. Finally, you managed a lame, “you came.”

“We promised,” Lorcan said “Can we come in?”

Yes, they obviously could, you swung the door wider and ushered them inside.

“We came as soon as we could,” Fenrys promised.

The silence was awkward for a few moments as the three of you tried to figure out how to navigate this. But, it was easy enough to break as you threw yourself at both of them, managing to catch each of them in a hug at the same time.

“I forgot to tell you before I left,” you started, muffled in the shirts but knew they heard you. You’d memorized these words long ago. “I spent so long looking for all of the things that would kill me, I forgot the ones that made me feel alive. Both of you made me feel alive. Thank you.”

#fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys moonbeam x y/n #lorcan salvaterre x reader #lorcan salvaterre x y/n #fenrys x y/n #fenrys x reader #lorcan x y/n #lorcan x reader #fenrys x reader x lorcan #lorcan x reader x fenrys

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mxdarling · 10 months

Text

[“I can’t live without you. I would lose it!”]

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

ೃ⁀➷: summary: you're a rule-breaker and you tried resisting him, keyword: tried.

ೃ⁀➷: Word count: 1130

ೃ⁀➷: Reference/Inspiration: N/A

ೃ⁀➷: Event: [200 followers event]

[note:] If there is anything else triggering here that I didn’t list in the warnings section, please tell me. I don’t condone this type of behavior, this is merely just for entertaining purposes and some sort of coping mechanism for me. If you continue to read beyond this point, ignoring my warnings, I am not responsible for your actions from here on out.

[Warnings:] bad oneshot, maybe ooc riddle, after overblot riddle, yandere behavior, slight controlling behavior, unintentionally guilt-tripping, reader is a rule-breaker, reader is insecure, tiny fluff, tiny angst, cursing ("ass" & "fucking"), mentions of an argument.

[GN reader]

RIDDLE ROSEHEART is a strict ruler, a top student, a perfectionist—any other adjective to describe him that wasn't romantic. Even after the overblot incident, it was difficult to imagine anyone liking him with the traits he carried around the campus; it was even more difficult to imagine him, THE riddle roseheart, liking someone else. Especially if that someone is you—an infamous first-year rule-breaker who hangs out with deuce, ace, and grim—and what's even better, they aren't capable of casting a single spell. A bizarre pair was commented on by most of the students and a few of the teachers and staff. A top student, like riddle, who is almost perfect in every aspect of his life, with someone like you who could care less about upholding simple rules and regulations.

No one believed when deuce, ace and grim said, "riddle and prefect are dating!" and "our teapot tyrant is dating our prefect!! can you believe it!?" Yet when heartslabyul students started seeing their dorm leader and you together more often, the dots were starting to connect, and soon enough, almost everyone knew you two were dating. The teasing went up rapidly (by a certain person in octavinelle, who's also 188cm eel), especially towards riddle, not that it offended him, but it would leave him with a tomato face frequently during the day.

Dating riddle was not a journey you would have thought you would ever experience. It was cute the way he would get shy around showing affection towards you in public—the slight brush of his hand hitting yours, the tints of pink on his cheeks, the (not so) sneaky glances he gives to you when he thinks you're not looking. The obvious blush you see when you catch him staring at you red-handed. Everyone can tell you two will have heart eyes whenever the other is near. You can hear the coo's and ew's from your fellow peers, yet you pay no attention to them as riddle takes all your attention for himself. Whether he's aware of that or not, you don't complain; you could never complain when it came to him.

Yet, of course, all relationships have their fights and disagreements. Most of them would be about you, your rule-breaking habits, and how you don't care enough about your studies. How you don't seem to care that you would fail your classes if your current grades keep up like this. It's at these times that you can clearly feel his disappointment in you. It's these times where you can't help but feel like he can do so much better than you, wondering why he even settled for you in the first place. It's these times where you can see riddle trying to change and not let his old habits slip in again. He's trying, and you can see that all his hardest efforts are never unnoticed by you.

As sweet as the relationship you two shared was, somehow its flavor turned slightly bitter. It was starting to get draining, draining, and draining. Each day, a riddle will ask you to do something or wear something for him, and you do it in a heartbeat! The way he started to slowly change your schedule to match his, the way he started to limit your free time with friends and activities. Spending less time inside your own dorm and more in riddle's bedroom. Gradually, you seem to know more about parts of a book than you do outdoors. It didn't bother you to sacrifice these little things for riddle. Doing little things and doing favors for him was never a bother to you—never at all—until it started getting way, way too much for you.

Here you are again, sitting in his bedroom. If you weren't returning to your dorm, you most likely would've forgotten what it looked like. The history book in front of you started to feel like hands dragging your head to its incredibly long text full of everything that you weren't going to try and digest. You want to throw away the book and do something without sitting your ass on the floor for more than 8 hours. You stand up, telling riddle you're leaving. Replying defensively, he tried to stop you, but, of course, being the natural rule-breaker you are, you resisted him. You aren't sure how exactly it happened, but what was supposed to be a little act of rebellion against his strict behavior turned into a full-blown argument. There were tears. You couldn't take this any longer than you had; you were at your breaking point, and you think now is a good time to fucking leave.

Stomping angrily towards the door, not even bothering to grab and bring your books with you, turning the knob to open the door to leave, or attempting to turn the knob, turns out it's locked. You scoff at his effort to keep you within his room before you could try and unlock the door and actually be able to turn the knob—you feel a pair of arms locking themselves around your stomach.

"Please, don't leave me," he says in a whisper, yet with the quiet atmosphere, you can hear what he says perfectly. Pleading, he's pleading... That's.. unusual. It's not like him to be pleading, yet knowing his home life, you should've known. Behind all that strict and commanding demeanor was a traumatized child wanting to play and have fun like other kids. He sounded so lost and so alone; he was trembling behind your back. His tears tainted the back of your shirt, and he tightened his grip around your stomach like a child not wanting their parents to leave for work. You are mad; you are so mad at him, acting like he was the one suffering in this relationship, yet something in you can't be mad at him.

In your head, your rational side advises you to leave. Leave him weeping at the entrance of his bedroom door as he watches you walk away from this exhausting relationship, away from this draining push and pull, and away from him and his emotional baggage. You want to leave; you need to leave. The door is right there in front of you, waiting for it to be opened, waiting for you to leave. Taking several glances at the door knob and your hand, you let your hand lose grip of the handle. You lost all the energy to try and leave, and frankly, giving up seemed like a good option for you. You could just sit back and let riddle take the lead. riddle wouldn't have to be alone during his toughest times because you would be there for him.

"Thank you.. thank you for not leaving... I can't live without you. I would lose it!"

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

[a/n; woah first yandere riddle work in this blog (as of now since i have another yandere riddle work that i have saved in my drafts) and i must say a very interesting character to write as a yandere, also another one i'm not quite familiar in yandere terms. also i was a little addicted to grinding on honkai star rail for my bronya built i've almost completed so this may have took a little while aha.. (though it's nothing new in this blog LMAOO) but thank you anon for requesting riddle with dialogue #39! terribly sorry for not doing azul i really only had motivation to finish riddle's part so for the sake of my sanity i just didn't write for azul, perhaps next time i will loll. (SORRY I'VE BEEN SO DEAD!!!)]

(edit: WHY AM I ONLY NOTICING THAT I WROTE RIDDLE WITH AZUL'S DIALOGUE??? omg i;m so sorry anon for this mistake....)

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angelstate · 2 years

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(Don't) Say You're Sorry, Please.

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem! reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending!

Warnings: harsh argument, cursing, mention of alcohol and reader getting drunk, explicit emotions, symptoms of mental illness.

Summary: you and peter were no longer happy, it took a big fight, harsh words and some time apart to realize how much love you felt for one another.

Words: 3k!

you didn't know how it got to this point, when the calmness of a silly discussion turned into a heated argument and a silent competition of who could scream harder horrible things to the other.

It got to the point where you had been crying for so long it was hard to breath and your eyes sting every time you blinked, it felt as if your stuck in the middle of a panic attack and couldn't get out of it no matter what you tried to do.

You didn't even remember when everything went wrong and you ended up here, it was like all your memories had been swept away and now there was a recognizable emptiness that the both of you shared.

you knew everything but could remember nothing.

you didn't had what it took to fight like this with Peter. You didn't have the voice, the feelings or the calculated thoughts to defend yourself.

You threw weak attempts of calming the situation but nothing worked so you let the venom that was boiling in your chest spill over and make you say things you would regret.

The love was long forgotten.

"just shut the fuck up, peter! for once in your fucking life shut the fuck up. You aren't the voice of truth all the fucking time, sometimes you are in the wrong, get over it for fucks sake!" You screamed at him and pulled your hair in an attempt to let out some of the anger you felt.

"i should shut up?! You're the one who acts like a fucking bitch all the goddamn time. You are fucking insufferable, i swear to god sometimes i can't fucking understand why i even put up with your shit!" peter screamed back at you, he was pointing at you the entire time. blaming you for this.

"you put up with my shit?! I'm the one who has a fucking super hero for a boyfriend. If anyone is putting up with shit is fucking me!! You always get hurt and put yourself in danger. you run to saves stranger from small fucking crimes, but who takes care of me?! You love playing hero but always end up getting hurt, What is going to take for you to realize that you are not prepared to save anyone!!" You screamed as loud as you could everything that came to your mind.

You were so done with this shit, with the argument, with the super hero bullshit. It was draining, being there to help peter get healthy every time he got hurt stopped being out of love but obligation.

While he took care of the city you were left to take care of him, but who was making the time to take care of you? Nobody. Nobody was taking care of you.

"i'm not prepared?! I have saved the world more than once! I've gone through hell trying to keep everyone save!! Im more than capable of saving people from small shitty crimes!" peter said trough gritted teeth.

"then why, tell why the fuck you can never help me?! Why you can never save me?! Am i not worth your stupid help!!?" you felt tears starting to leave your eyes harder than ever.

You knew that there was no way you could ever recover from this fight and be like you were before; this was a breaking point that was long time coming in the relationship.

"i don't help you?! every second that I'm not being spiderman im by your side fucking teaching you to not fuck up like you always do!" Peter screamed and raised his hand, closed his fist before letting his arm fall back down.

"you are so full of shit" this time you didn't shouted, your voice was trembling and soft, your throat wasn't prepared for any more screaming.

"you are so full of shit, Parker. we are never together, if you're not being spiderman you're busy doing shit to get better at being a super hero. You are never here for me. Im sorry that when i see you after a long time i want to tell you how my life has been. Im so fucking sorry i want you to be here for me." Your eyes filled with tears again your vision was blurry because of it but you didn't let any more tears fall. This wasn't worth the pain.

"im full of shit for being a super hero? Im so sorry if I'm not here because im saving people's life. I have so much shit going on that the last thing i wanna hear is more problems you want me to fix. I am so fucking sorry i can't fix your fucking life, you won't believe how much bigger problems i have to deal with outside of this fucking room" peter spoke his voice was stern.

In that moment, you realized something. You weren't his first priority. You weren't even on the list of things he worried about.

Why were you still here with him? Why haven't you walked away from a place you clearly weren't wanted in?

You loved peter so much to the point you forgot that he should love you too to be together.

"i think we need a break from each other" you whispered and rubbed your eyes to get rid of the tears.

Silence.

Peter didn't said nothing, just stood in the middle of your room looking completely lost. his eyes for the first time tonight filled with tears and his lower lip quivered in what you could only describe as pure sorrow.

"you don't mean that" peter said and tried to get close to you but you took a step back and embraced yourself.

"it's for the best, peter." you reassured him. it was really for the best. This time it had gotten too far to not notice the two of you needed space.

"no no no, I'm sorry, ok? Im really sorry. Please don't break up with me" peter pleaded.

"don't say you're sorry, please. we just need some time alone." you hugged peter one last time.

"we'll fix this, right?" Peter whispered in your ear and tighten his hold on you. It was so hard to let go.

you couldn't respond, no didn't knew if this could be fixed.

peter just took in your silence and kissed you for the last time, just way to promise to not let the relationship die tonight.

___________

Three weeks had passed since the fight.

thinking back to that night felt like a dream, you could feel the guilt of everything you said weight heavier and heavier every day.

You regretted everything you said, every word you let out that night. you may have ruined one of the only good things in your life out of pure selfishness.

peter and you rarely talked, there was nothing to say, no. There was too much to say and that scared the both of you. what if one you had realized the relationship was going to be fixable?

The fear was ingrained in the both of your minds, both of you suffering because of the same fear.

"how is she?" Peter asked mj, who was concentrated eating her lunch.

"your ex girlfriend?" Mj said sarcastically and looked at peter with boredom.

"we didn't broke up" peter said quickly, the title of ex girlfriend made his heart clench in pain.

"she's sad and doesn't look good at all, Parker" she said honestly and looked at her food before continuing.

"if your dumbass checked on her you would know that" she said and took a bite of a mini carrot.

"we are taking some time apart" peter defend himself, it was true but that wasn't the reason he checked up on you. He was scared of seeing what the decision made to you.

He had shattered since that night, crying anytime he was left alone with his thoughts. He feared to see you in a worst condition than he was. Scared to see how his words bruised you.

"yeah? maybe try spend a life time apart because you don't want to see how you left her, Parker." Mj said in bitterness, you were her best friend and seeing you in pain because of him didn't sat right with her. She understood the situation but would always make the people that hurt you hurt too.

Peter just sat there, looking worried and sad.

You were feeling like shit, every inch of your mind was filled with sadness and your body reflected your state of mind so clearly it was embarrassing to go out looking like the human version of sadness.

right now, you were in one of the stalls of the girls bathroom, trying to eat your lunch but you had no appetite, you stopped feeling hungry two weeks ago.

You couldn't eat, so you took supplements like candy, trying to keep your body healthy but it didn't worked. You lost weight and looked pale.

But it didn't really mattered, nothing felt like it mattered. In your mind, you had no reason whatsoever to care about yourself or anything at all.

_____________

It was Friday night and you were drunk as fuck. not in a party, just in the solitude of your living room, lit cigarette in hand and a tall glass filled all the way with pure vodka.

the tv was on, the movie 'The perks of being a Wallflower' playing but the sound acting as a background noise because all your attention was on your phone, waiting for a message from him to pop up.

How much you wished you had the courage to message him first.

You took a big sip from the glass and felt the familiar warm spread in your chest, your empty stomach had been suffering all day and now was experiment the harshest treatment you had ever put it through.

Not even in your high school years you were careless enough to not eat anything before drinking strong alcohol.

"say you're sorry, please?" you whispered to yourself, trying to force yourself to call him, to admit your mistakes and beg for forgiveness.

You spend two hours staring at your phone, all the vodka in you glass had already disappeared and the entire bottle followed soon after; before you even realize it

"I'll say I'm sorry, please forgive me..." you whispered and pressed to call peter. you put the call on speaker and held your phone close to your mouth.

You had your knees to your chest and had wrapped a blanket around yourself, trying to stay calm and collected.

"hello?" Peter answered the call.

"hi...pete" you said, voice dripping evidence of your drunken state.

"how are you, y/n?" he asked and you heard how he sat on his bed from the way the springs made a uncomfortable sound.

"i'm.. I'm drunk" you admitted and laughed a little.

"I, I really wanted to talk to you, pete." you're voice broke, and your eyes glossed over with tears.

"I wanted to talk to you too, flower" the pet name made your heart clench.

"really?" you asked, your tone filled with the warm that the pet name created in your soul.

"yeah, i was thinking about you, i used my telepathic powers and you called" he joked and you giggled.

"thanks for using your powers, pete" you took a deep breath.

"i called because i want to tell you something" you said and heard how peter took a deep breath.

"tell me, flower. Im all ears" he spoke sweetly, so sweetly you felt your heart clench again.

"i just, i wanted to tell you that i'm sorry, i'm really sorry about everything i said when we were fighting." you took a pause and to stop the tears from falling.

"i don't 'up with you', i honestly don't even know why i said that. you are amazing to be around and i was wrong for saying differently. you're a great super hero and the fact that you put yourself in danger and get hurt just to save other people is admirable. You're more than prepared to be the biggest super hero the world has known" you let out a shaky breath, your eyes betrayed you and multiple tears fell from your eyes.

"and you're right, you do help me to not do stupid things. I just...i just feel like i'm not worth it enough of more attention than the one you give me to save me from my stupidity."

"and lastly, you're not full of shit. That's me, not you. I know you have bigger problems than giving me attention just because i feel like im entitled to your time. I feel really guilty for everything i said. Forgive me, please?" You finished speaking.

Peter was speechless, and his heart already broken heart, ended breaking completely when you bed for his forgiveness.

You beg him for forgiveness? how could you feel sorry for saying the things he needed to hear to wake up and realize he wasn't a good boyfriend? You opened his eyes when you spoke up about how abandoned you felt because of him never being there for you.

If anyone should apologize was him.

"flower..." Peter sighed.

"yes?" You responded, voice shaky and anxious.

"I'm sorry for everything i said too. I shouldn't have called you a bitch. You're not insufferable, your the sweetest and loveliest person i have ever met. i'm grateful that i have you in my life."

"and you're right about me never being there to give you anything other than help, i love you and i thought that just because you knew that i didn't have to remind you every day. you have all the right to tell me how you feel or what you're going through and i should always be there to hear you. I know that you don't want me to fix your life or your problems. You only wanted to be heard but i didn't care to listen at the time."

"thanks for believing I'm a great super hero and I'm sorry that I've been saving people without thinking about how me getting hurt so much and running to you to heal me affected you. I've been selfish in our relationship just because i wanted to be selfless and save people. Forgive me, please"

Peter asked and you took a deep breath.

"if i forgive you will you forgive me too?" you asked back, you also wanted to be forgiven.

"of course, flower" peter answered and your heart skipped a beat.

"then, i forgive you, pete." you said and felt a smile forming on your face.

"i forgive you too, flower." Peter smiled too.

All the weight you have been carrying on your shoulders was lifted just like the light on your soul, you could finally live again. No more sorrow and pain.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" You asked with hope.

"yeah, we'll see each other tomorrow" peter made the plan of showing up at your apartment tomorrow, make everything right and give you all the affection and time you deserved.

______________

(a few months later)

you were sleeping peacefully in your bed, wrapped up in blankets and softly breathing. It was spring break and you have spent all day cleaning so you were having your well deserved rest.

that was until you starting hearing something hitting your window, being a light sleeper you woke up almost immediately, you checked the time on you phone '01:23am'

Still being half asleep you didn't even thought about what who hitting against your window because it was obvious, you stood up, walked over to the window, opened it and turned around to lie down again in your bed.

"hi baby" you said when you were back in your bed, this time your back against the wall to give peter space to lay down with you.

"hi flower" peter pressed the spider in the middle of his suit making loose and fall of his body.

He picked up the hoodie that was on your desk and put it on before laying down beside you, almost instantly he hugged you and you wrapped one of your legs around his waist to bring him closer to you while one of your arms wrapped around his next. Your free hand started caressing his hair sofly.

"how was night patrol?" you asked, your eyelids already closing in tiredness.

"it was calm, i just helped a few drunk guys get home" peter said and rubbing your back, drawing random shapes with his fingers.

"that's good" you whispered.

"go to sleep, flower." peter whispered against your ear and tighten his hold on your waist making you be totally pressed against him, your face in the crook of his neck.

"goodnight spidey" was the last thing you said before falling asleep.

"goodnight flower, i love you" peter kissed the top of your head before falling asleep too.

The both of you finally being the happy couple you deserved to be. The love you felt for each other was no longer forgotten in the pain of misunderstood emotions, now it was more alive than ever, burning and keeping you warm and safe from all the sorrow you had to go through to be happy with peter again.

Everything was fixed and was better than the first time you started to love each other.

There was no longer pain, just peace and the comfortable bed of love the both of you slept in for the rest of your life.

How beautiful it was to love Peter, forever save in his arms.

#peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman #tom holland spiderman #spiderman fic #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff

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pinchofhoney · 1 year

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the last goodbye, part two

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

« part one | part two

pedro pascal x fem!reader

world count: 5.2k

warning: angst, age gap (the reader is in her mid 20s), mention of smoking, mention of drinking alcohol

summary: All men do is messing with your head.

a/n: i’m incredibly proud of myself that the first part evoked such emotions in you. i was totally not expecting this, as i wrote it at a time when i wasn’t in a good place mentally, feeling terrible after losing my pet. if you feel disappointed by the lack of gripping action, i apologize (not really). i don't want to rush things, i want their emotions to sink into your soul✨

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @alexxavicry @babypeapodd @domaniquessidehoe @one-sweet-gubler @danelhi @pedroholicx @rosaliedepp @phoenixinthewater @blu3flame @hummusxx @onceandfuturereader @marysucks-blog @sloanexx @nxt-zen @secretdazeobservation

As you slowly emerged from the depths of sleep, your tired eyes flickered open, gradually adjusting to the blinding brightness of the white ceiling looming above you. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you struggled to shake off the weariness that clung to your body like a heavy blanket. It was difficult to tell how many hours you had slept, but it certainly didn't feel like enough.

You shifted your weight and let out a groan as your muscles protested against the movement. The events of the past few days had been a whirlwind, leaving you drained and achy. It's funny how mental anguish can affect your body. With a sense of resignation, you rolled over onto your side, wincing at the pain that shot through your joints. Your hand fumbled around in the air until it found the offending alarm clock, blaring its obnoxious tune throughout the bedroom.

You muttered a curse under your breath as you pressed the button to silence the alarm. Despite your reluctance to start the day, you knew that you couldn't afford to linger in bed any longer. With a deep breath, you swung your legs over the edge of the mattress and forced yourself to stand up. Another day, another- You wished you could say slay, but not today. Another set of challenges to face? More likely.

As you sluggishly made your way towards the bathroom, thoughts of Pedro crept back into your mind. It had only been two weeks since he broke up with you, but it felt like an eternity. The pain was still raw and fresh, and you struggled to make sense of it all.

Every moment you had shared with him played out in your mind like a movie, and you analyzed each one, searching for some clue, some sign of what went wrong. But it was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces – there was no explanation, no clear reason why he had ended things so abruptly.

You had loved him with all your heart and trusted him like no one before, but in the end, he had shattered your heart into a million pieces, leaving you to pick up the fragments and try to put them back together. The moment Pedro said those fateful words, the trust you had built up in him crumbled to dust in the blink of an eye. And now, you found yourself spiraling into an absurd mania, constantly questioning whether anyone in your life would leave you just like he did.

The fear of being abandoned consumed you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that everyone you cared about was destined to disappear. It was a toxic mindset, but it was deeply ingrained in you since childhood and one that you couldn't seem to escape.

On the one hand, you wanted to reach out to your friends, to let out all the pain and heartbreak that you've been holding in, but at the same time, you didn't want to burden them with your problems or risk pushing them away, so instead, you buried your emotions deep inside, hiding behind a mask of indifference and detachment. It was easier that way, at least you tried to tricked yourself in believing it was. But the truth was, the pain was eating away at you from the inside out, and you didn't know how much longer you could keep up that fake smile.

There was nothing you wanted more than to go back in time, to before everything fell apart, to the days when you were happy and carefree, but you knew that wasn't possible. All you could do was try to pick up the pieces and move forward, even though it felt like an impossible task.

Your days had become a blur of schoolwork and long shifts at the movie theater. It was a grind, but it kept you busy and distracted from the pain of your shattered heart. At least, that's what you thought, again.

Despite your best efforts to move on, your mind kept drifting back to Pedro. Every time you walked by the coffee shop where you used to have your morning cup of coffee with him, you couldn't help but look inside, hoping he would be there. You even went inside a few times, ordered a coffee, and sat down, pretending to read a book or browse your phone, all while stealing glances around the room. But he was never there, and you always left feeling disappointed and foolish.

Even going to the gym in the evenings, which used to be your solace, had become a source of anxiety. You couldn't shake the feeling that everyone there knew about your breakup with Pedro and was silently judging you. As you ran on the treadmill, you felt self-conscious and exposed, as if all your flaws and vulnerabilities were on display for everyone to see.

And yet, despite all of this, you still couldn't resist the urge to go to the places where you used to go with Pedro. You found yourself walking past his favorite pizza place, just to catch a whiff of the familiar scent of marinara sauce and melted cheese. You even drove by his street once, just to see if his car was parked outside his house. You knew it was ridiculous, but you couldn't help yourself. The pain of losing him was too great, and the thought of never seeing him again was almost unbearable.

Actually saying that you will never see him again was an overstatement. Despite the heartbreak he had caused you, he was the hottest topic in entire Hollywood and beyond. His star power had skyrocketed, and his charming looks and hoarse laughter made (not only) teenage girls swoon all over the world. His photos and videos seemed to be everywhere, constantly popping up on your Instagram and Twitter feeds, taunting you with reminders of what you had lost. He was a viral sensation, and it was impossible to escape the constant barrage of Pedro's updates – a stark reminder that he was out there living his life while you were struggling to move on.

You stood in front of the mirror, studying your reflection with a heavy heart. Your once bright eyes were now surrounded by a rim of redness, and dark circles that looked like bruises appeared to have taken permanent residence beneath them. Your hair was a mess, its strands sticking out in every direction, as if it was trying to mimic the chaos you felt inside. Your skin was pale and lifeless, a far cry from its former glowing self. Just fourteen days ago, you were a different person, filled with happiness, with Pedro by your side. And now, everything was in shambles.

You shook off the memories and forced yourself to focus on the present, on getting dressed and making it to your classes on time. It was a challenge, but you tried to keep thoughts of Pedro at bay, knowing that dwelling on the past would only make the pain worse. You grabbed your bag, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the streets of Los Angeles.

As you stepped out into the blinding glare of the sun, the sounds of the bustling city enveloped you. Cars honked, people chatted, and a cool breeze caressed your face, but everything seemed distant and unimportant. You repeated to yourself the mantra to take things one step at a time, hoping that each step would lead you closer to healing the wounds Pedro had done to you.

But little did you know, he was also battling his own demons, struggling to come to terms with his actions and the hurt he had caused you. It was a cruel irony that both of you were struggling in your own ways, and neither of you knew the full extent of the other's pain.

“Pedro?” the sound of his own name snapped him out of the recesses of his head and effectively brought him down to earth. He blinked several times, trying to adjust to the bright lights shining in his direction. Looking around, he realized he was on the set of the advertisement he was working on.

The confused director approached him, placing his hands on his hips in a pretentious position. “What's going on, man?” he asked, clearly annoyed. “It's just a minute clip, all you have to say right now is to catch grandma, you have to think like grandma,” he threw his hands in the air in exasperation, then placed the fingers of one hand on the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

Pedro tried to focus on the director's words, but his mind was still clouded with thoughts of you. He couldn't believe how he had treated you a day after your first anniversary, telling you that he suddenly stopped having feelings for you and breaking your heart. The day after the anniversary, which he didn't even show up for, because he didn't have the courage to do so. To look into your smiling eyes, having in the back of his mind what he had been planning for some time. The guilt was eating him alive, and he found himself replaying the scene of your breakup in his head over and over again.

He remembered very well how your face crumpled with sadness and confusion as he told you the news. How you asked him to reconsider, to give your relationship another chance. How you cried and asked him what you had done wrong. He didn't have the answers then, and he still didn't have them now.

Pedro's heart simply sank as he realized that he had made a mistake the very next day after the breakup. He had let go of someone who loved him unconditionally, someone who had been there for him through thick and thin. And for what? Because he suddenly stopped feeling the way he used to? He couldn't even be sure if that was true. Perhaps it was just a minor crisis that he could have resolved if he had spoken to you honestly.

The director ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “You know what, Pedro? Take a break. Get some fresh air and clear your head. We can't afford to waste the whole day on this stupid phone game ad. Let's reconvene in 20 minutes,” he barked, his irritation palpable. Without bothering to wait for Pedro's response, he stormed off, leaving Pedro.

His eyes flitted around the room, taking in the frustrated expressions of the crew members. They had all been waiting for him to get his lines right, but he had been too distracted to focus on the task at hand. He was wasting the time and resources of his colleagues and he felt ashamed because of that.

As the director snapped out orders to the rest of the team, Pedro swiped his hand over his tired face, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath his fingertips. He let out a deep sigh, feeling drained both physically and emotionally. His mind was consumed with thoughts of what could have been, of what he had lost because of his own recklessness. He needed some space to clear his head.

Without a word, he left the building and made his way out to the back of one of the buildings in Los Angeles. The cool breeze brushed against his face, providing a much-needed respite from the chaos of the set. He let out a long breath, trying to calm himself.

It wasn't easy to pretend that everything was fine in front of everyone, because it wasn't. Every day it became harder and harder for Pedro to put on a brave face and act like he was okay. He dug out a pack of cigarettes from his blazer pocket and blindly stared into it. He quickly found the lighter in the other pocket and with his slightly shaking hand, he lit the cigarette. The familiar smell and taste of nicotine filled his senses, providing a temporary escape from the overwhelming emotions that consumed him. He leaned against the rough dirt wall of the building, the sound of the bustling city muffled in the distance. The smoke filled his lungs, choking him slightly, but he welcomed the pain, as it was a distraction from the pain in his heart.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He couldn't silence the voices in his head, telling him that he had made a huge mistake by ending things with you. The breakup had hit him harder than he ever imagined it could. He missed you so much, and the regret ate away at him with each passing day. He took another long drag of the cigarette, the tip glowing red.

Despite the comfort that the cigarette provided, Pedro knew it was a bad habit. He had managed to quit a while ago, but the stress of recent events had caused him to slip back into it. He felt guilty for indulging in it again, but at the same time, he didn't care. All he wanted was to forget his troubles, even if it was just for a little while.

Every single day during those two weeks, Pedro's thoughts were consumed by the image of him standing in front of you, while cup your face with his hands and apologizing for everything. He imagined the words he would say to you, begging for your forgiveness and hoping that you would take him back. But as much as he longed to make things right, he was too much of a coward to actually face you. He couldn't bring himself to look you in the eyes and see the disappointment he had caused, so he actively avoided all the places where he knew he could potentially run into you. The mere thought of seeing you filled him with a mix of intense longing and paralyzing fear.

He held onto the belief that you wouldn't be able to forgive him and the thought of being rejected by you was too much to him. The fear of embarrassment kept him from reaching out and trying to make amends, even though he knew deep down that he wanted nothing more than to be back in your warm embrace. The possibility of facing your disappointment and disapproval was a daunting prospect, and so he chose to continue avoiding you, hoping that time would eventually make him forget about you.

The sound of a notification coming from his phone snapped him back to reality and he opened his eyes. He fished the device out of his pants pocket and glanced at the screen, noticing a message from his friend, Oscar. He took a drag on the cigarette he had been smoking and read the message.

I was thinking about this birthday party. Do you want me to cancel the invitation for Y/N? – The Grumpy Eagle, sent at 3:14pm.

Pedro had completely forgotten about Oscar's upcoming birthday celebration, which he and his wife Elvira hosted every year. It was a small party, but it had become an annual tradition among their circle of friends. He knew that both of you had been invited long before the two of you broke up, and it was pretty obvious anyway, since he was Oscar's best friend and you had quickly become a favorite of Oscar's wife and kids.

He took another drag on his cigarette, thinking on response. Pedro wasn't sure if you would show up, but he knew that you disliked disappointing people, and skipping out on someone's birthday party would undoubtedly lead to disappointment. Even if you didn't enjoy celebrating your own birthday, you understood that it meant more to others and the happy memories associated with it.

No need to cancel the invitation, that’s fine. I’ll be fine. See you on Tuesday – Sent at 3:17pm.

He took one last puff of the cigarette before flicking it away and making his way back to the set, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of you.

You were in your rented apartment, standing in front of your small closet and talking to your best friend over Facetime. With your back to the screen, you felt on the verge of tears as you realized you had nothing suitable to wear to Oscar's party. The phone was propped up on your bedside table, and you turned to face Xavier's amused expression on the screen.

“I'm about to go crazy,” you said, frustration creeping into your voice. “I can't find anything to wear.”

Xavier chuckled and lay back on his own bed, still visible on the screen. “Relax, Y/N. We'll find something. Let me see what you've got.”

You knelt down at the table and held up a few dresses for him to see. Xavier made a face at each one, shaking his head disapprovingly. Finally, he suggested a simple black dress that you had forgotten you owned.

“That's perfect,” he said, grinning at you. “You'll look amazing. Just throw on some heels and you're good to go.”

“And what are you going to wear?” you asked, taking the phone in both hands and moving it closer to your face.

Since you didn't want to go to the party alone, you decided to bring Xavier with you, even though he didn't know anyone in Pedro's inner circle, including Oscar and Elvira. The only connection Xavier had to Pedro was through you, as they had met a few times before.

He was shocked when he heard about your breakup with Pedro two weeks ago. He had always thought that you and Pedro were perfect for each other, and it came as a surprise when you told him that things had ended between you two. He remembered how happy you had seemed with Pedro, always talking about the little things he did that made you fall even more in love with him. It was hard to believe that it was all over now.

Xavier had been there for you through all the tears and heartbreak that came with the breakup. He was the only person you really talked to about what happened. He had listened to you vent about Pedro, and had even gone as far as to offer to confront him about the way he had hurt you, but you had refused, saying that it wouldn't change anything, and that you just needed time to heal.

Now, as he watched you on Facetime, he could see the sadness in your eyes. He knew that finding something to wear to this birthday party was the least of your worries.

“Oh, you know, my finest t-shirt and jeans,” he answered with a playfully tone. “Maybe I'll even splurge and wear my dress shoes instead of my sneakers.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Don't worry, I'll make sure to tuck my shirt in for the occasion.”

You laughed at Xavier's words, feeling relieved that he could make light of the situation. “Well, make sure you don't outshine me too much,” you teased. “I don't want to be upstaged by your dress shoes and tucked-in shirt.”

Xavier chuckled. “No worries, you'll be the star of the show,” he said reassuringly. “But seriously, don't stress about it. We'll have a good time no matter what.”

His words were comforting and a feeling of appreciation and thankfulness filled your heart. “Thanks, Xavier,” you said, smiling. “I really appreciate you coming with me.”

Xavier grinned. “Of course, what are friends for?” he replied. “Besides, I would do anything to see Pedro's face when he sees you in that dress. He's going to regret ever letting you go.”

You laughed, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the thought of Pedro's reaction. “I doubt he'll care,” you said, shrugging it off. “But it'll be nice to look good for myself, at least.”

Xavier shook his head. “Trust me, he'll care,” he said with a wink and then stood up from his bed, straightening his shirt. “Alright, I better get ready too. I need to iron my jeans and find my fanciest t-shirt,” he joked. “I'll pick you up at 7. See ya!” he said before ending the call, at which you smiled to yourself, feeling grateful for your friend's support.

As you and Xavier made your way to the door of Oscar's house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping up on you. You clutched the gift tightly in your hand, hoping it will help you calm down. You turned to Xavier, about to voice your concerns about this evening, but he beat you to it.

“Hey, it's going to be fine,” Xavier said, sensing your unease. “We'll have a good time. And don't worry about Pedro, I'll not leave you alone even for a moment. When I go to the toilet, I'll drag you along with me,” he joked trying to boost your mood.

You let out a deep sigh. “I'm scared.”

Xavier smiled reassuringly. “I know, but we'll stick together and make the most of it,” he said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “And besides, you look amazing. Pedro's going to regret all of his life choices.”

You couldn't help but feel a little flustered at the compliment. “Thanks,” you said, feeling a little less anxious. “Okay, let's do this.”

As you approached the door, your heart rate started to increase again. You could hear the sound of laughter and chatter from inside grew louder, intensifying your apprehension. But before you could even think about turning back to Xavier's car, Elvira opened the door and greeted you warmly. “Y/N!” she called out joyfully, pulling you into a tight embrace. The familiar scent of Elvira's perfume and the comforting warmth of her hug helped ease your nerves a little bit.

“It's so good to see you,” Elvira continued. “Oscar will be so happy you came. You know damn well how much he liked you.”

You smiled gratefully at her words, while Elvira already shifted her gaze to the man standing next to you.

“And who's this handsome gentleman with you?” Elvira asked, pulling away from you and turning to Xavier.

Xavier extended his hand. “I'm Xavier. Y/N's best friend,” he introduced himself with a smile.

Elvira shook his hand. “I'm Elvira, Oscar's wife. Nice to meet you,” she said warmly.

You suddenly felt an odd need to explain why you brought a stranger to their house, even though you knew that Elvira was aware of the recent events.

“I didn't want to come alone, the last days were-” you started to explain, but Elvira quickly cut you off, sensing your discomfort.

“That's fine, Y/N. You don't need to explain yourself, we both know what happened,” Elvira said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze to encourage you. “Come on in,” she added, motioning towards the open door and stepping aside to let you both enter the house.

As you walked past her, Elvira turned her gaze to Xavier and sent him a warm smile. You couldn't help but feel grateful for her kindness and understanding, and you knew that you were in good hands for the evening.

The birthday party was in full swing, with colorful decorations hanging from the ceiling and walls, and a large cake with lit candles in the center of the room. The scent of savory and sweet treats wafted through the air, making your mouth water.

Oscar was the center of attention, greeting his guests with a big smile and warm hugs. He was surrounded by his closest friends, chatting and laughing away, and occasionally stopping to pose for a picture with them.

You, on the other hand, felt out of place in the midst of the older crowd, except for Oscar's children, who were running around and playing games. You had hoped to have a conversation with Pedro, but he avoided your gaze the entire time, which made you feel uncomfortable and self-conscious.

However, Xavier was by your side throughout the evening, keeping you company and making you laugh with his witty remarks and stories. You introduced him to some of the people at the party, and of course to Oscar, and he encouraged you to dance, which helped you loosen up and enjoy the party a little more.

As the night wore on, the guests started to leave one by one, and the house grew quieter. The children were already fast asleep, and the adults seemed to be in a mellower mood, with lighter snacks and drinks replacing the heavier ones from earlier in the evening.

You found yourself in the kitchen with Xavier, enjoying a lively conversation with Elvira and Oscar about the latest news in the city. Elvira was recounting her recent trip to Europe when Oscar suddenly interrupted her by reaching for a bottle of wine and pouring it into a set of glasses.

“Let's raise a toast to life, to good friends, and to family,” Oscar exclaimed, lifting his glass. You all joined in, clinking your glasses together, laughing and toasting to the good times. The mood had shifted from one of excitement to one of warmth and sentimentality.

As you took a sip of the wine, you noticed Pedro standing at the edge of the room, watching you with an intense gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you felt a strange mix of discomfort and confusion. You had wanted to talk to him earlier in the evening, but he had been avoiding you, so his sudden interest now was puzzling. Feeling the need for comfort and safety, you moved closer to Xavier, feeling his arm wrap around your shoulders. You didn't know if Pedro was still watching you, but you felt better in your friend’s presence.

To your surprise, Pedro suddenly approached the four of you, inserting himself into the conversation. He started to talk about a recent article he had read in the newspaper, bringing up a topic that interested everyone. Xavier and Elvira seemed to welcome his presence, and Oscar was glad to have his longtime friend join in. However, you couldn't shake the feeling that his gaze was still fixed on you, even as he talked with the others.

As the conversation continued, Oscar and Elvira decided to check in with the guests in the living room, leaving you, Xavier, and Pedro alone in the kitchen. The silence was palpable as you all stood there, unsure of what to say or do next. Pedro finally broke the silence, turning his attention to you.

“So, Y/N, I can see that you are having fun?” he asked, his eyes still lingering on you.

You tried to hide your discomfort, forcing a smile and answering politely, “Yeah. I try to, at least.”

It was hard not to notice that Pedro wasn't completely sober – although he wasn't fully drunk either. He kept shooting unpleasant glances at Xavier every now and then and his eyes were colder than always.

Your friend seemed oblivious to Pedro's behavior, but you knew better. You could feel the tension rising in the room, and you started to feel anxious. Pedro's jealousy was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if he still had feelings for you, even though you weren’t a thing anymore.

Trying to diffuse the situation, you asked Pedro how his job was going, hoping to steer the conversation away from any uncomfortable topics. He answered curtly, barely giving you any information, and then turned his attention back to Xavier, sizing him up with a cold stare.

You felt your heart rate increase, sensing that things were about to get out of hand. You knew that you needed to do something, but you weren’t sure what. As you opened your mouth to speak, Pedro cut you off.

“Two weeks were enough for you to find a replacement, huh?”

His question made you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Excuse me?”

Pedro's words didn't make sense to you, and you glanced over at Xavier, who looked equally confused. Pedro scoffed and clarified, “I saw you two earlier. I saw the way you look at him, Y/N. And now here you are, pretending to be just friends.”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment and anger. How dare he accuse you of something like that? The jealousy in Pedro's eyes was unmistakable, and it was clear that he didn't believe in your friendship with Xavier, even though he knew him.

Xavier stepped in, sensing the tension rising in the room, his voice calm but firm. “Pedro, let's take a deep breath and calm down for a moment. You’re tipsy, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Pedro wasn't backing down, his eyes fixed on Xavier, even though he was actually speaking to you. “I don't trust him. And I don't trust you, Y/N.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and your heart sank in your chest. You couldn't believe what Pedro was saying. How could he accuse you of being untrustworthy when he was the one who had abandoned you without any explanation? Anger and sadness boiled inside you, making it hard to even form coherent thoughts, and the tears started to gather in your eyes.

“You don’t trust me? You were the one who stood me out on the day of our anniversary. It was you who came to break up with me the next day without giving me any explanation. It was you-you…” the floodgates opened, and tears streamed down your face, mixing with the anger and frustration that you felt. You sniffed and wiped your nose with the back of your hand, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “How dare you tell me that you don't trust me?” you said, your voice shaking with emotion.

Pedro's expression softened slightly, and for a moment, you thought that he might actually apologize for his absurd behavior, but then, his gaze hardened again, and he shook his head.

“I had my reasons,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And I don't need to justify them to anyone.”

You stared at him in silence, trying to make sense of his sudden outburst. He's being unreasonable and irrational, you thought. You shook your head in disbelief and took a step back. “You know what?” you asked, staring into Pedro's eyes. “I will not talk to you. I'm not going to listen to you suddenly make me some kind of scolding because alcohol went to your head. You're a grown man, and you're acting like a kid,” you barked, your anger seeping through every syllable. You then turned your back on Pedro, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry again.

You left him, standing motionless in the kitchen with his eyes fixated on the door through in which you had just disappeared with Xavier. His heart was heavy with regret as he realized that he fucked up again. He knew that he had messed up, that he had let his jealousy and insecurities take control of his words and actions. He desperately wanted to talk to you on this party, to apologize for his behavior and make things right, but now it was too late for that. He had taken a few drinks to calm his nerves, hoping that it would help him find the courage to talk to you, but now he realized that it had only fueled his anger and made things worse. The sight of you laughing and chatting with Xavier had been the final blow, and now he was left alone with his regrets once again.

#the last goodbye #angst #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #x reader angst #daddy is a state of mind #the last of us fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #joel miller x reader #javier pena x reader

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yanxidarlings · 5 months

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am struggling to find inspiration to write slytherin so here's some nightmare fuel instead 💀 also pls tell me it's not just me the yellow font is gone and i am in despair (gave zs green instead bcos he's pretty much a 🐍)

YANDERE! CORMAC MCLAGGEN VS YANDERE! ZACHARIAS SMITH

• on todays edition of shit no one asked for: the most cursed pair of yanderes. just imagine for a second being stuck with two yanderes, already a situation of itself, but two douchebag yanderes, now that's just comically unlucky.

• cormac and zacharias are pretty much at the bottom of the yandere foodchain — paired up against anyone else and no doubt the other yandere comes out on top, but what if we take other yanderes out of the equation? what if our dear darling / reader doesn't have to deal with groups of snakes and eagles? (cormacias smithlaggen)

• i feel like both cormac and zacharias's obsession would be someone who doesn't have many people around them. because fundamentally neither are smart nor talented enough to come up with an elaborate scheme to trap the darling, the only way to 'get' their darling would be to drag them into a draining and boundless friendship.

• despite being incredibly similar in the way they 'yandere', their biggest difference is how they treat the darling: to zacharias, his darling is the only person who matters in his life, whilst cormac is simply obsessed with the idea of them, whether it be for their looks, intelligence, reputation, they're the person he wants to spend his life with, whether they like it or not.

• whilst their motivations might be different, both are preoccupied with 'keeping' their darling, feelings and emotions be damned. sure, zacharias wants his darling to be happy, but without him? he wants to wipe the smile off their face whenever he see's them with anyone else. they can be miserable, unstable and depressed, he doesn't care and he'll deal with whatever mood swings they throw at him. the one thing he won't deal with is his darling being away from him.

• zacharias might be the 'sweeter' (i use this term loosely) of the two, but that by no means implies he'd be fine with sharing. zach can barely share his darling with themself, and has pretty much attached himself to their hip. he doesn't bother having other close friends or caring about other people, zacharias only needs you and you only need him.

• but what exactly is he going to do when cormac comes onto his darling? the gryffindor just inserts himself into their perfectly content life and acts like their boyfriend, and broke his nose the one time zacharias dared tell him to (looks down) get lost in the forbidden forest and get [redacted] by a centaur-

• cormac? he's worse, he objectifies his darling in every way possible. he might not see exactly see them as an object, but he has trouble taking any of their emotions seriously. you don't want to spend the night with him? sounds like a you problem, love </3. is he happy when they're happy? sure, but does he give a rats arse if they're uncomfortable? mclaggen doesn't even notice.

• despite his less than savoury traits, cormac isn't opposed to sharing, and might even prefer it, as long as he gets his daily darling time, does it really matter if there's another?

• he might even become more tolerable as a yandere sharing, maybe it's the competition being the darlings favourite becomes, or maybe it's just the 'good' influence from watching zacharias bend over backwards to make their darling happy, but he slowly starts to care.

• albeit, still in a himbo, macho way. pricked your finger? cormac happily marches to and from the hospital wing to bring his darling a bandaid. broke a bone? (because cormac didn't catch you in time after throwing you down the stairs) he won't let his dear lift a finger (literally, you tried to get up and he kept pushing you back down).

• one thing they can agree on is that the darling is not allowed any privacy or agency in this relationship, you don't want to kiss? too bad, pucker up love it's time for the 4pm make out session, cormac called first dibs today!. you want to study for the o.w.l's? suck it up, nerd, it's hogsmeade day, zacharias is taking you to the three broomsticks and cormac has a game later that you have to cheer at.

"oh come oon!" zacharias whined as his arm was once again pushed off by m/n, but he did not let up, and once again slung his arm around the others shoulders "how much exposure therapy do i need to put you through, mate" he dragged them along, walking towards the quidditch pitch that was slowly piling up with students, all eagerly waiting for the match to begin.

m/n let out a sigh of relief as zacharias finally removed his arm, instead gripping onto their forearm and guiding them up the stands "we have to get seats at the top, cormac bet me five galleons he could high five me on his broom — there's this new quill at scrivenshafts i'm dying to get"

the match felt like it was never going to end, the screaming of gryffindor and slytherin as each team got a hold of the quaffle was deafening, and his eyes were to stay glued to cormac the entire match, he couldn't gaze at any other player even for a second, especially potter, or else-

"potters got the snitch!"

the sound of lee jordans voice erupted the gryffindor side of the pitch into victorious roars of applause. they knew what came next, it always happened but maybe cormac would be too distracted by his victory to-

"how about a kiss for the star of the match" ah, cormac had already flown over to where they sat "i want my five galleons first!" zacharias pipped up, patting at mclaggens pockets "get off me smith — you can have it tomorrow, i just came here for my kiss" and with that, before m/n could say anything, cormac had grabbed ahold of either side of their face, pulling their lips to his.

• cormac and zacharias don't so much share as they do tolerate each others presence within the darlings life. the bright side is that together, they do stand a chance against another yandere, probably not an intelligent one like anthony goldstein, or a violent one like one of the theo's™, but if the darling were to have also caught to attention of someone like lorenzo berkshire, they probably wouldn't loose custody immediately.

#yandere harry potter #hp writings #yandere cormac mclaggen #yandere zacharias smith #cormac mclaggen #zacharias smith #freddie stroma #miles heizer #yandere harry potter x reader #yandere hp #yandere hufflepuff #yandere gryffindor #harry potter fanfiction

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lilacxquartz · 4 months

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Don't Make Me Feel Alive | Chapter 2

Kenjaku (Pseudo-Geto) × Fem!Reader

[This fic contains Shibuya Arc spoilers and is updated every Saturday.]

ABOUT: Diagnosed at an early age with an illness that slowly deteriorated your body; you went from being a promising sorcerer to a retired husk of your once former self until he found you, offering you an opportunity to live instead—not that you had a choice to refuse.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You’re not sure how, but he did a good job in keeping you up and running, albeit on limited energy.

TAGS/THEMES: (in the future chapters): »yandere, chronically ill reader, forced dynamic, non-con, dub-con, violence, caretaking, unrequited feelings, sorcerer reader, dead-dove, mixed pov, potential interpretations of dubious sorcery«

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

[Side Note:] extremely dubious sorcery up ahead, after feverishly researching cursed tools in jjk until like 3am, there doesn’t really seem to be any real limit, so we will pretend this all works. also his name isn’t revealed until the next chapter, so he’s just a he for now instead of kenjaku :)

***

2. Trial and Error

Reluctantly, you ended up accepting his help as long as he followed through with restoring you back to life, finding that to his credit, he proved somehow more capable than the hospital staff—his care actually keeping you in check and as a result, preventing the disease from completely claiming you.

His method of keeping you alive initially was through channelling energy into your body, pushing a small fraction into your core, forcing you to live.

However, while it proved effective, it was inefficient and unsustainable, even draining on him.

Luckily, he was quick to devise an alternative, just for you.

“This should do the job better,” he announced as he fastened a chain around your neck, a small item of some sort resembling an amulet weighing it down.

“And what is this…?” you asked, fiddling with the pendant as it rested slightly heavily against your chest.

“It’s a cursed tool containing a looping feedback of energy,” he explained, gently guiding your hand from the stone, not wanting for you to somehow damage it already, “you can draw energy from it and it will give you life, simply returning it to the pendant once you have spent it.”

“That… totally makes sense,” you replied, not following at all.

He rolled his eyes, wondering how to explain it exactly, putting on (somewhat) good behaviour while he still had you in his reach. For as long as you remained compliant, he would be neutral.

“Consider it a bit like breathing; it gives you energy that then returns to the stone that it then gives back to you.”

“And this will… this will cure me?” you asked with some hope.

“Not at all,” he replied rather bluntly, “but, it will prevent you from dying. Your disease, while incurable, won't be the cause of your death as long as you just keep this pendant close.”

“Oh,” you replied, knowing deep down that it was all too good to be true, after all.

“Also,” he spoke, still needing to hold your attention, “surprise, surprise—there’s a catch to it.”

“T-there is?”

“While it gives energy, it also takes away energy as it restores itself,” he explained as he held the pendant in his hand, “so there is a chance you will feel your condition in its raw form as it recharges.”

“Wouldn’t that kill me?” you warily asked.

“No,” he continued to explain, shaking his head, “the energy is constant, but it’s closer to being a battery, if anything. Just like when an electronic device powering down when the battery is low, doesn’t mean it’s nonfunctioning. So, I suggest sleeping during that time.”

“So, my condition will still continue to develop when this… ‘battery’ thing is recharging?” You asked, feeling a little defeated at the thought. While you liked the idea of staying alive, you didn’t like the pain during your down time.

“Correct,” he confirmed as his smile returned, “although there is a chance I might be able to prevent that in the future. Don’t get your hopes up though.”

A deep and heavy silence followed as you processed the words that he delivered, feeling equal parts relieved that you had an opportunity to prolong your existence so you didn’t have to meet a premature end—while also feeling defeated, knowing that the disease will continue to worsen as time passes you by.

All things considered however, you already were in the late stages of your illness as it already had done its damage, so technically speaking, whether it got worse or not, if it was somehow even manageable, then it wouldn’t have been for nothing.

All you had to do was help someone that you probably really shouldn’t. Besides, you felt normal right now, what if he’s able to fix that even further?

“Anyway, I want you to try walking,” he spoke up after a while, his hardened gaze relaxing as he longed for his experimentation to continue—feeling that this method was strangely humane for someone like him, he could have taken a more drastic turn with you, but he played the safer route for now.

The temptation to dissect you was still fresh in his mind though, wanting nothing more than to crack you open to prod and poke at your mind, maybe even finding some sort of anomaly that surgeons couldn’t but it was all too risky. From what he knew about your disease, it was a neurological flaw, so as to not damage your capabilities further, he refrained.

As a compromise, he settled on something simpler. A cursed tool was fine for the time being.

It would do for now, he thought.

Besides, it was actually sort of fun—as long as you were compliant. Had you not been so easy to work with, then he would have done more to make you give in. He almost felt disappointed that didn’t fight back more, wanting to mess with you until you gave in.

But, this wasn’t bad either.

He then observed you quietly as you fulfilled his request, slowly rising from the bed, making a mental note of each and every single movement you made. His eyes continued to glare over you, watching carefully as you gambled your own stability.

You gritted your teeth as you struggled to maintain composure, focusing all of your efforts into hopefully regaining control of your legs—being unfortunately familiar with the loss of sensation from time to time. Walking quickly became something you dreaded as the disease ate away at your core, exhausting you whenever you would try to fight it.

“You can manage a little step can’t you? I’m sure you’re not that weak,” he teased, offering you some encouragement to take a step forward, feeling slightly frustrated as you remained statued on the spot, too cautious to move.

Eventually though, you did finally take a step forward, finding that you could indeed walk, even if your legs did feel strangely heavy but you supposed that it had also been a while since you were last out of bed.

His gaze meanwhile locked on the pendant, observing that while you used up a significant amount of energy, that this might stabilise over time as you continued to train yourself to get back on track.

His end game was to harvest some sort of function from you come Halloween; the night that his long-awaited plans would finally take place. He had just under a year to build on those final details, having already found a set direction with how he wanted for this all to unfold.

This whole thing was just a what if—an experiment, a side project at best, so he had some time to spare, finding it almost fun in restoring a sorcerer, a challenge that he hadn’t yet attempted.

“Can you channel your technique at all?” he asked you, intending to try and test something out.

You nodded as you attempted to channel your own dormant cursed energy, feeling the life energy that you had otherwise lacked before. Your hands drew out wishing blue flames and upon forming the correct sign, electricity crackled at the edge of your fingertips—in turn, his dark eyes lit up with fascination as he continued to trial the limitations with you.

“So you aren’t useless. Now hit me with it,” he requested next, wanting to see if it would actually electrocute him or if it would feel like a tingle.

“Like… attack you?” you warily asked.

“I can take it,” he teased, a small arch forming on his lips.

He thought that it was actually kind of amusing that you were so hesitant to do so, especially considering the strange situation he had you tied up in. In his mind, you should want to grasp at the opportunity to attack him, not question the very idea.

You hesitantly nodded in response, doing your best to channel your cursed energy, locking it into a pointed sign, launching an attack that hit him with a crackle of electrifying energy—initially feeling pleasantly surprised that you were able to do so, but then feeling terribly wrong as something felt violently off.

Suddenly, your body was overcome with sweeping exhaustion; quickly draining you of the remaining energy that the pendant offered, leaving you feeling completely and utterly depleted. Your vision darkened next, pulling—pushing you somewhere unknown, not quite meeting with death but at least mingling with it.

Noticing this quickly, he took a step forward to catch you before you collided with the floor. He grunted as he allowed for you to fall forward with his body tanking the hit, your frame leaning against the front of his own for support—without realising he was doing it, he held you closer, finding that he actually quite enjoyed the warmth.

Perhaps it was the fault of the situation he had placed you under; spending the last couple of days tending to your needs, ensuring that your health wouldn’t continue to deteriorate. As a result, this pushed him unintentionally closer to you, taking on the role of a caretaker whether it suited him or not—and, as he held you close, he couldn’t deny that some sort of connection was beginning to form.

As you otherwise started to slowly stir back awake, he pondered the possibility of surrendering this responsibility to one of his subordinates instead, knowing that they likely had nothing better to do. Yet, the more thought he gave the idea, the more it didn’t sit quite right with him.

After all, they lacked the knowledge that he did, they wouldn’t know exactly what to look out for nor would they know how to lessen the pressure of your condition, should the pendant fail to do so.

It was simply better to do it himself.

This was his project to bear the burden of and he wasn’t about to let it fall into the hands of someone who would likely kill you out of negligence alone.

So no, he thought, settling on a firm decision deep within his mind, dismissing the idea completely. His subordinates would mess it up somehow, he was certain of it.

So as he guided you carefully back to bed, he gently laid you down and focused his attention on the pendant, wondering what exactly could be done to prevent another hiccup like this in the future.

Thinking that maybe he could change the function of the cursed tool, he plotted potential adjustments that could ensure a more steady flow of energy, thinking that it could in theory be an easy fix.

Noticing that you were now at least partially awake, he placed a firm hand down on your shoulder to keep you in place.

Studying the pendant with unwavering curiosity, he spoke up to you in a detached tone, waving you off with the flick of his wrist, “Rest for now. I’ll think of something.”

You listened as the exhaustion encouraged you to do so anyway, feeling the heavy weight of sleep anchor you down.

He watched intently as you surrendered to a deep rest as slowly but surely the tension you harboured washed away. With each and every single breath that you took, your bruised complexion slowly returned to looking healthier again—the pendant in turn glowed, pulsating a ripple of energy as it slowly restored your core.

He took note of the pulsating from the amulet, still not being satisfied with it. Ideally, he wanted for the glow to be constant but that was something else to work on at another time. For now, he focused on the output conducted by you before doing anything else.

His eyes continued to lock onto your sleeping body for what felt like an eternity, his own limbs growing gradually stiff the longer he stood there. He did so in order to monitor your condition and ensure that nothing else would go wrong, but at least for now it all seemed as stable as it could possibly be.

Slowly he kept creeping closer as you slept, intending to work on the pendant while you were out cold. Whether he intended for it to happen or not, your recovery room started to merge with his workspace, deciding that it was better to work on the battery as closely as possible rather than to risk a potential death from letting his guard down and as such, even if it took many hours on end, an adjustment was made.

Whether or not it was successful however, only tomorrow would tell.

And if the pendant was able to actually fuel life when it shouldn’t, then he would have made another breakthrough. He just had to refine it all a little first.

It was then that exhaustion caught up to him as well as he felt his host body reel in from such unrelenting overtime. He yawned as his eyelids fell heavy against his eyes and his movements became gradually sluggish.

Despite such overwhelming fatigue, he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave you alone by yourself, at least not yet, speculating that this early on that failure was right around the corner.

It had been a long time since he had included someone so personally intertwined in his plans and admittedly, he found your company surprisingly tolerable, if even enjoyable.

Not that he would ever admit such a thing to you.

If you ever asked him if he liked you, he would simply leave you alone for days on end just to mess with you.

(Just to make you miss him.)

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eluxcastar · 1 year

Note

May I request Arlecchino finding her lover collapsed on the floor in tears from a fever they are suffering from and then taking care of them?

Arlecchino and her poor sick s/o

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: a terrible fever leaves you effectively bedridden for days

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, mentions reader vomiting but does not happen within it, the reader is a massive simp, oh and also they're married because I said so

୨୧﹑words :: 2.6k

I haven't abandoned you honeys I'm just working on a time-consuming Arlecchino request that's like 8k words long ❤️ so here's a little something to tide you over for a bit in light of the newest teaser from mihoyo

You have spent three days curled up in your bed with a temperature so bad Arlecchino almost considered taking you to Dottore to sort it out, but you were more than happy to wait it out instead.

Those three days had been spent swiftly losing any food you tried to eat and barely keeping down the water you forced yourself to drink so that you wouldn't get dehydrated with how much the heat made you sweat.

Now that days have passed, your throat hurts, and you curse your gag reflex. You don't even want to drink water, and the dizziness that prevents you from getting up has hardly subsided. You've slept through most of it, yet you can't bear to spend another minute glued to your bed, tossing and turning amidst your covers. They're thoroughly a mess, no thanks to hours of indecision as you become hot under them and cold without them for too long.

It's a frustrating thing to be confronted with your weakness.

There is truly nothing worse. This time last week, you would've been by your lovely Arlecchino's side, helping her with her work as she managed the less enjoyable affairs for the House of Hearth. It's always nice to have someone with you to curb your boredom when you have to do menial work.

But since you woke up in the middle of the night overwhelmed by dizziness so horrible you couldn't figure out which way was left, you have been stuck here where you cannot reach her for much of the day. She insisted she should remain with you, but you weren't eager to take up more of her precious time for no reason other than your conscience. You know she would be happy to. You just don't want to trouble her.

While she's gone, you should remember to do the things she made you promise to do: get lots of rest, drink water, don't push yourself.

By what is basically the force of fate, you have been good at resting and not pushing yourself. It's the water you're struggling with. You tried to force yourself to half something earlier, using whatever surface was available to support yourself, but you found yourself with an upset stomach and an awful lingering feeling in your throat.

Your second trip to the kitchen for a glass of water is equally unsuccessful.

She asked only three things of you, and even that is out of your depth? You must be pathetic. Soon, Arlecchino will return home, and she will see the glaring problem that you're dehydrated and be disappointed that you couldn't even listen to her requests.

The floor is the most comfortable spot to sit or kneel awkwardly on your hands and knees after quickly lowering yourself to the floor when you are hit with a dizzy spell to avoid hitting it at a high speed once you inevitably fall over.

Is sickness making you a wreck? Were you always this quick to give up? You never feel this uneasy. Your fever must be messing with your head and making you overemotional, but you feel so useless, whatever the reason. Suddenly you understand those people forced to retire from their work only to become restless and idle all day from an overwhelming absence in their life, if only for a few days.

It hurts, mentally mostly, but the physical pain of it all is hardly helping. Something about fevers is so draining to your body.

Water. You'd just like to drink some water. Is that too much to ask? Surely not.

Water…on the floor underneath you. It's only a drop, but you never even made it to the fridge. Where could it have come from? You place your finger on it, confirming it is most definitely not a product of your fever-driven imagination as it feels very real. Another drop lands on the back of your hand, then on the floor in quick succession, too quick for anything like a hole in the ceiling. Holes in the ceiling can't pass water through your head, either.

Tears? You're not crying-- you reach up to feel your cheek. Oh, you are. You are crying.

When did that happen? You never cry, not in good health anyway. It's completely unlike you. Though not in good health, maybe it's not so unthinkable. Maybe you are weak like this, even mentally. You didn't think a little sickness could bring you down very much; evidently, you were wrong.

You first settle back on your kneels, wiping your eyes clean of the tears that started and won't stop coming, especially now that you realise it. Like a wound that doesn't hurt until you look at it and realise how bad it looks, it hits you all at once that you really are quite miserable in this state. Water is too hard for you to get. Really? Is that how far you've fallen?

This powerless feeling is horrible, like a weakness eating at your bones every moment you spend sick. Conclusively, you really hate being sick.

You must not have noticed the sound of the door opening, possibly because you were distracted by your condition and its inhibition of your simple desire to drink a glass of water so that you could tell Arlecchino that you did it. Maybe that was supposed to prove to her you were getting better or something. You obviously weren't, but it feels nice to lie to yourself sometimes and try to convince yourself that you won't be bearing with this sickness for very long.

On the other hand, you certainly do notice the footsteps encroaching on you and your pathetic state. It doesn't matter who's there. You don't want anyone to see you this way. Not Arlecchino and not any fatuu she may have sent to check on you. Not that you're on the floor, and most definitely not that the reason you're down there is because you're crying. It would be too shameful to handle ever publicly showing your face again. You scramble to try and get back on your feet and wipe your tears, but it only proves your weakness to you as you get up so fast you make yourself dizzy again and stumble to find something to hold onto before you fall again.

The only reason you don't end up flat on your ass is because Arlecchino grabs you by your shoulders and holds you close, so close you feel her poor jacket soak up your tears. You want to pull away so you don't wet her clothes, but you can't. She is your only anchor right now. If you do that, she'll really know you're crying. Of course, she is already aware that you are, but if you at least stay with your face buried in the fur of her overcoat, you don't have to acknowledge that she knows.

Evidently, bed is the best place for you right now, and you are promptly returned there so that you can lay back and rest.

"I didn't even realise I was crying, swear!" Your attempts to save yourself are pointless, as she never cared whether you were crying or not in the first place. It's natural to cry, even if she doesn't want to see you upset.

"It's alright. Covers on or off?" There is a certain gentleness in her voice that makes you look away in embarrassment, though it is undeniably attractive that a hot woman would take care of you while you're sick. The 'in health' part is really sexy too, but the sickness part stirs butterflies in your stomach...

"Off," you respond.

It’s even hotter you get to be married to that woman.

She places a kiss on your forehead, as gentle as the rest of her actions, a degree of care present that she does not usually impart. She is not heartless and cold toward you, but this side of her is a rare one reserved for the moments when you feel especially precious. Sickness, injury...

It is a rarity that you treasure because it means a lot to you.

"I just got overwhelmed I guess." You can't think of a way to explain it to her that actually makes some degree of sense. Any explanation you think of sounds stupid to your brain and probably hers. "I'm fine, I promise."

"I know, I know. Glass of water, and something to eat small enough it won't upset your stomach." Her thumb brushing over your forehead is enough to settle those rampant emotions of yours, though still teary-eyed and moody.

"Just give me a second and I can do it." Again with your insistence to not be helped, you're just spouting off lies at this point, fooling yourself but not her.

She laughs at your stubbornness. "No you can't." She says that so matter-of-factly you can't even be bothered to fight as the words die in your throat at how amused she seems. It's one of your endearing traits, you like to think. The slight smile she walks off with would certainly support that delusion.

You're probably fooling yourself about that part too, but something about her collectedness while your brain is all scrambled up and chaotic calms you, and you fish around the bed for the coat she had discarded and laid out at your feet before she left. It's nice and heavy but not too warm when laid across you so haphazardly that it overheats you. The fur around the collar is uncomfortably wet in one spot.

However could that have happened? Sure hope someone didn't get their tears all over it.

What's best is that it smells like her, covered in her scent from top to bottom, and now you are too. It's like getting a warm hug from your wife in the absence of a hug or your wife

Ok maybe it's impossible to marry you and not know that you're really stubborn when you want to be.

"I'll stay with you like this for the entire week if that's what you want. I don't mind if I catch whatever you managed to get." Her words are so sweet that you get those butterflies again. Could you really handle a week with her like this? Probably not. You might just drop dead, but if nothing else, you'd be dying happy.

"I would definitely mind that." You laugh back, trying to match her responses and diffuse the idea you might want her gone.

"What? Don't want to take care of me?" She's just teasing, but her expression doesn't give that away at a glance.

"Didn't say that!"

You can't help feeling happy. You like this as your medicine a lot, and it has nothing to do with your face being this close to her chest and everything to do with her warmth and her words like everything is normal, and you're both just messing around. If that were the truth, it might be really nice too, but it makes being sick a hell of a lot more enjoyable.

It can't be more than a minute or two before she returns with a glass of water and some dry biscuits. The only two things that you can keep down seem like heaven in her hands despite how bland both of them are. It feels nice to finally be hydrated, and it feels great to have something in your stomach aside from an empty feeling.

Arlecchino takes the time as an opportunity to settle into bed beside you.

As you set the glass of water down on the floor beside your bed, you turn back over to squirm your way into her waiting arms, now receiving a warm hug from your wife in the presence of both a hug and your wife.

You are comfortable with a bit of pillow shifting, some wriggling into place and a slight repositioning of your head. You are not smothered by her and can breathe while remaining in her arms. Your head is not in a position where your neck hurts, and your legs are comfortably intertwined with hers. Dreams do come true, and on that note, you won't be moving from this position for the next few hours if you can help it.

"You can keep the coat if you want. I'll wash it once you're better." Her voice is low, trying not to be too loud when you are so close but audible.

You would shake your head but don't dare, only mumbling back to her. "You need it for work tomorrow."

"I'll take a day off." She says it so off-handedly it sounds suspiciously normal for a moment before the shock of it hits you.

Your eyes open, and you tilt your head up just enough to see her face, completely serious. "Are you sure? You'll have a lot to do--"

She makes a face like she is thinking, though it is an act to emphasise what she says next. "I'll use it to manage files from the House of Hearth if it would make you feel better about getting to steal all my attention at home."

"Accepted." Evidently, you are far too easy to bargain with.

She laughs to herself nonetheless, hand stroking your back. "I don't want to leave for work only to come home to you crying again."

You go dead silent and look away again. "...Sorry."

"I didn't mean it in that way." She tries to reassure you with those words, and it works a little but doesn't take away from your embarrassment. Are you going to remember that for the next five years wondering if she's judging you for it knowing damn well she's not and probably doesn't remember it? Hopefully not. "It worried me, that's all. I want to be here if you need me."

Ok maybe that's really hot too.

"Well, if you're sure, then I'm not going to tell you no." You wouldn't stop her anyway because, secretly, you would really like for her to stay with you. You wanted that from the start and just couldn't swallow your pride to admit it.

The small chuckle she lets out hearing that tells you that she is very aware of that fact. Maybe it's hard to marry you and not know that.

Ok maybe it's impossible to marry you and not know that you're really stubborn when you want to be.

"I would definitely mind that." You laugh back, trying to match her responses and diffuse the idea you might want her gone.

"What? Don't want to take care of me?" She's just teasing, but her expression doesn't give that away at a glance.

"Didn't say that!"

#✦ — scenarios.#✦ — fluff.#♡ — anon visit.#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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jadeacereigen · 1 year

Text

Signs Serizawa knows Reigen has no powers

The Reigen spinoff implies that Reigen hasn't told Serizawa who he really is yet. I think plenty of people have taken this to mean that Serizawa is still unaware, but I disagree. I'm fairly certain that Serizawa already knows the truth and has accepted it, not caring to call Reigen out for his lies because they don't matter that much to him.

Read ahead for a long list because I have no life...

1) Mob's memories

We don't really know what exactly Serizawa saw from Mob's memories (we catch a few glimpses in the anime, but we don't know how many memories he saw nor how clearly he actually did). However, it could be enough for Serizawa to know what Mob knew at the time—maybe not that Reigen is powerless entirely, but at least that he is lying about what he is truly capable of.

2) Serizawa probably overheard the conversation between Toichiro and Reigen

I mean, he jumps in to save Reigen at the perfect time, so I feel like he was watching the conversation leading up to that point from the sidelines. Toichiro called Reigen out for being a powerless fraud, and Reigen did not confirm but he also did not deny it.

3) Serizawa only defied Toichiro when he was going to attack Reigen

The fact that Serizawa finally decides to defy Toichiro at that key moment... I feel like he was only able to muster up that courage because he knew it was a matter of life or death for Reigen. He knew that Reigen wouldn't be able to defend himself like Mob or Shou could, so he finally decided to act then despite knowing it would betray the man he admired most.

4) Serizawa never questions why Reigen is unable to do certain things

Granted, a lot of this is just how Serizawa is as a person, as he's not the confrontational type at all and tends to just go with the flow. However, even Mob questioned Reigen sometimes, like pointing out that he should've been able to see weak spirits or asking why he didn't do anything to help. Serizawa never does, he never really expects Reigen to do anything regarding spiritual matters. Serizawa never questions why Reigen does nothing in the yokai fight, for example.

People might point to times where Serizawa leaves Reigen to do something on his own (i.e. the train ova where Serizawa leaves Reigen in the parallel dimension or the scene in Season 3 where Serizawa initially says nothing while Reigen holds a cursed object). However, I don't think it necessarily means Serizawa thinks Reigen has powers, I think it just means Serizawa trusts Reigen's experience in the field. Serizawa may be a powerful esper, but he has little experience using his powers in an actual job.

In the train OVA, Serizawa was just following advice from a business handbook that said to never question one's boss. I think it's notable that the moment Reigen tells Serizawa he can make decisions for himself, the first thing Serizawa says is "Please, let me help you somehow." It feels like that was something Serizawa wanted to do this whole time, but Reigen kept telling him to leave him to his investigation and he felt like he had to listen.

A similar mindset is why Serizawa just lets Reigen hold a really cursed object and doesn't say anything about it until Reigen asks him. Serizawa was just too used to blindly leaving things to his superior rather than following what he thought was right.

5) Serizawa tries to stop Reigen from entering the storm

When Reigen and Serizawa try to brave the storm caused by Shigeo, Serizawa says that they cannot continue as his powers are being drained. Reigen tells him that he will go forward on his own, claiming he'll be fine, but Serizawa says "there's no way you'll be fine!"

Those aren't the words of someone who believes Reigen has any powers, in my opinion. Those are the words of someone who knows Reigen is utterly powerless and sincerely believes that him braving the storm will be a death sentence. If someone as powerful as Serizawa can't brave the storm, how could Reigen possibly survive?

6) Serizawa never refers to Reigen as a psychic

PLEASE CORRECT ME IF I'M WRONG. However, I genuinely do not recall any scene where Serizawa refers to Reigen as a psychic or even mentions Reigen having powers. Even Mob, despite questioning Reigen's honesty, referred to him as a strong psychic from time to time. Serizawa never does that, as far as I can tell.

Anyway, that's all the evidence I can think of. Thanks for reading if you made it this far 😭

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #serizawa katsuya #reigen arataka #jade speaks

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seoliee · 9 months

Text

Driving Fear Into Your Heart

Word Count: 2.7k words

Pairing: X x Reader

TW: Cursing, Kidnapping, Stabbing, Yandere Tendencies (Pls read smth else if not comfortable)

A/N: I said this was inspired by X's halloween theme skin, but idk this maybe how I perceived it instead? Anyhow, lemme know y'all thoughts <3

In a dark and hollow forest somewhere near the city. Where only fragments of moonlight shone through the small crevices of the tall trees branches and its leaves. It was eerily silent, until swaying locks of hair pass through the bushes in a haste.

A girl ran barefooted, cracking sounds of dried leaves filled her hearing, leaving a trail behind. Her complexion was pale, fear stricken and distressed. Her body felt sore and drained, it was only sheer adrenaline that made her push through.

Her feet were starting to hurt, forming small cuts and bruises on the sole. She has to stop running at some point, but she can't. Not when she's running for her life.

~*4 days ago*~

She was in the cafeteria, sitting along with her friend at their usual booth and chatting about ramdom stuff. Just like the usual. She was attentively listening when her childhood friend X, came into view along with his own fair share of group.

She found herself falling out of the conversation and instead decided to watch him from a distance. Only did her friend's voice broke her out of the trance with a small nudge.

"Don't stare at him too much or he'll melt." Her friend says teasingly, chuckling at her obvious crush at the lab nerd.

"I-I wasn't staring!" She quickly rebukes her claim, though her blood red cheeks and ear were contradicting it.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Anyway.." Her friend's tone suddenly became serious, which made her get a bit confused as her friend seldom becomes serious during their conversations. "Have you heard about the kidnappings that's happening near the university recently?"

She shakes her head. She's been too absorbed on finishing her research paper these past few days that she blocked out any kind of gossips or news that would distract her from concentrating. She even went as far as to cancel all her plans of hanging out with X.

"There were a total of three missing cases reported and all of them were students of different universities near our campus."

"The authorities haven't gotten a single clue whether it's a solo or a group operation. Either way, the kidnappers are still out there so do be careful."

Her warning sent a chill down her spine, terrified that such happenings were happening near them. Those poor students, she hopes that they were at least safe and alive.

She sent her friend a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand in a comforting way. "Don't worry. I always walk home with X anyway. You should be careful too."

"Oh, I'll be fine. Besides, I'm going on a date with y'know who later..." Her friend managed to light up the mood immediately by redirecting into another topic that she knew, she would interested in.

"What?? Since when? Tell me the fucking details!" She exclaims hysterically, practically slapping her hands down on the table earning a few strange looks from the people around them. She couldn't care less though.

Alas, the final bell rang throughout the halls signaling the end of the day. Tired groans from her fellow students and a few hastily gathers up their things, wanting to leave immediately.

As for her, she's delighted to walk home with him again after for so long only to be met with disappoinment.

"Sorry, (Y/n). I promised the guys I would hang out with them afterschool so I won't be able to walk you home." X says apologetically, a troubled smile grazing his handsome features.

He could see how your bright and grinning gorgeous face warps into a look of disappointment, making him feel guilty. "I can cancel it though. I'd rather be with you anyway."

The disappointment in her face quickly turns into a sheepish smile as she shook her head for a no. "No, it's alright. I can walk home with my friend instead." She obviously can't make him cancel his plans just for her satisfaction. After all, he has a life of his own.

"You sure? I could really—"

"Hey, X! You coming or what?!" One of his friends yells from a far, having an impatient look while the others grin at him in a teasing manner as they watch the scene unfold.

"Be there in a sec!" He yells back in response, looking over his shoulders with his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He looked back at her in disbelief. "Sorry about that. I gotta go. Remember to text me once you got home, okay?"

"I will." She chuckles, fondly grinning as light pink hue flows to her cheeks. This made X's heart softened, huffing a tiny chuckle as he brush a stray hair behind her ear.

"Be safe, my little lamb."

She watches as he ran up to his friends, some of them teasing him for the little moment they had. She's glad to know he found good friends despite his peculiar personality, he meant well.

~•~

After getting off the bus, the way to her apartment was already a bit dark and somewhat silent than usual at her on time arrival at dawn. Though, that's to be expected as she's staying in a peaceful neighborhood which she should be thankful for.

The soles of her shoes clicks on the pavement on each step she makes, the soft cold breeze of air moving past her ear as chills ran down her spine. Her surroundings were dark, the only light present were from the flickering street lights and the moon above her, which she thinks added to her paranoia.

She doesn't know if it's because she isn't used to walking home alone or is there someone watching her? She swore she could feel eyes from everywhere around her.

As she turned to a corner, footsteps sudden came to light from behind. She didn't thought anything of it, as it could be a passerby or a neighbor. Thankfully, she's near to her home so she briskly walked and much to her surprise, the person behind her began to speed up.

This set off alarm bells in her head, once she could see the light from her porch. She began to ran and screamed for help. However, all hope is lost once she felt a sharp pain struck behind her head as darkness engulf her sight.

~*~

A horrible stench whapped into her nose, as consciousness slowly seeped back into her figure. She pry her eyes open, blinking away the drowsiness as her vision clears up and able to take in her surroundings.

She's sat in the corner of a crusty room, the wallpapers were ripped and moldy. The pipes above her were leaking with merky water which where the awful stench came from. The windows in the room were boarded, as nothing but the gush of wind and crickets were heard from the outside.

She tried to move, but found it difficult as her wrists were tightly bounded together from behind to a pipe. She found it quite hard to breath because of the tight cloth on her lips. Panic fills her body as she heard heavy footsteps, and an unknown man had entered the room.

She glares at him, which made him smirk at her feistiness. He bends down to her eye level, and pats her head. "You're a pretty one, aren't you?"

His breath fans to her face, which made her feel nauseous and wants to puke at the horrible smell of alcohol and poor oral hygiene coming from him. He took off the cloth that's covering her mouth and traced his disgusting thumb across her bottom lip.

She didn't hesitate to bite down on his finger, hard enough to make him scream and recoil his hand away as blood rushes out of the bite. The man was furious and smashed the bottle of alcohol in his hand and points the severed half towards her.

"Don't fuck with me, woman. I can—" He was cut off when he heard a buzz coming from his phone. He clicked his tongue and immediately answers the phone, proceeding to leave the room.

Once he's out of sight, all the energy seeped out of her body as hot tears rushes down her cheeks. Tears trickle down to her knees, as she kept her mouth close to silent her ugly sobs. Her chest felt so tight, she's scared, deeply scared. She didn't think something like this could happen to her. Not when after being warned by her friend.

Then, she saw a faint glimmer from her peripheral vision. She looks up and saw a piece of broken glass from the bottle near her. She uses her foot to reach towards the shard and manages to push it to her side and tries her best to grab it.

Once she successfully got it, she began to slowly cut the rope, but found it to be quite thick and tough for the nibble blade.

It took her roughly 3 days before she could finally cut the rope because she was constantly interrupted by people coming in and sometimes watching over her. She felt drained as she refused to eat anything they gave her, but it didn't matter because she'll be out of her in no time.

She pushed her body up, and slowly walked up to the door, careful not to make any noise. She turns the knob and opens a small gap to peek. It was silent and there was only one man outside, and he was sleeping soundly, practically snoring.

She gently swing the door open, careful to not make it creek as she steps out of the room. She held in her breath as she began to take light steps behind the sleeping man. She sucked in her breath as the man began to turn in his sleep, rendering her still as she kept her eyes on him. Once she deemed it was safe, she continues her way to the door.

She steps out into the cold night, as a smile finally crept to her lips, tasting her freedom. Only for panic to once again surge as one of the men guarding outside saw her and calls to her, alerting the others.

She didn't think twice and ran into the dark woods. She didn't mind if twigs poked the sole of her feet, nor if she stepped on pointed pebbles. She just ran wherever she could, taking sharp turns to confuse her captors.

She could hear their voices getting farther, but she knows she shouldn't celebrate yet as the woods were hollow and wasn't sure if she's heading towards civilization or deeper in.

Her speed slow down as her adrenaline began to dissipate, she's breathless and looks around for any source of life. Much to her surprise, a hand had grabbed her wrist and instinctively she swipped her hand forcefully and elbows whoever it is.

The person grunts and moans in pain, the voice was oddly familiar. The person lights up their phone to their face, and soon she was able to make out who he was.

"You pack a mean elbow, little lamb." X smiles, chuckling despite the stinging pain on his nose. "Makes me think you didn't actually needed me."

His face quickly transforms into a scowl, looking back once he heard numerous of voices barking behind them. Without another word, he took her wrist and guided her out of the woods.

She saw his motorcycle parked by the side of the road, she hopped on and X quickly stepped onto the pedal as they drove away.

Her hands tightly hugged the small of his waist, leaning her head against his broad back as she tries to catch her breath. Her feet were in pain as well as her whole body. She couldn't stop shaking, as she cried on his back.

She felt his hand comfortably brush against hers, which sent butterflies inside her stomach flutter in ease.

"How.. did you find me?" She asks, keeping her head close to his back and listens to his faint heartbeat.

"I finally managed to track your gps using my phone and followed its location." He replies, keeping his voice low and words consise. "Sorry it took me a while. I had to first know your ips before managing to connect. Thank god, your phone is in working order too or I won't be able to track you."

His words flew into her ear, but she couldn't make sense of it as her energy began to lower that's she finding it difficult to keep her eyes open. "Thank you, X."

"No worries. After all, you know I'm always here for you." She could hear the usual smile in his voice. She finally lets herself rest and is unable to hear his next words.

"And I'm all that you need, and no one else matters, my little lamb."

A sickening and sadistic smile curls up to his lips, chuckling lowly.

~•~

X dumps a bucket full of cold water down on the unconscious person tied up to a chair infront of him. The man, jolts awake and flickers his eyes up at X.

"Good, good. You're finally awake. Did you slept well?" X muses, keeping the usual permanent smile on his face.

The man didn't bother to answer, starting to wiggle his way out of the chair in panic. X was displeased by this, but made no action and instead clicked his tongue.

The man finally stopped trying, his energy running low. "You bastard! Why are you doing this, X?! Let me go!"

The man's voice was irritating to X's ears, but he was glad to respond to his question in a simple and conventional manner.

X had walked up to the nearby switch and flicks it. Light began to shine on the wall littered with pictures. Pictures of (Y/n). His cheeks reddens as he took a step closer to the wall, his eyes flickering at each picture he took throughout the years in complete secrecy.

"Don't you think she's beautiful?" X asks the man, which confuses him and found the revelation quite disturbing.

"W-What...?"

"You asked why I'm doing this and it's because of her." X says, turning towards him once more. He took a step closer to a nearby table, his hand brushing against each tool on it. "I am merely protecting her from the filth swarming around her and trying to take what's mine..."

X grips the handle of a sharp and bloodied knife in his hand, taking slow steps towards the now frantic man who's eyes are filled with terror as he tries to reason with him.

X stops infront of him, bending down to his eye level. He moves his face closer to him, keeping his heterochromatic eyes into the man's terrified and shaking ones, a sadistic smile slowly forming on his lips. "This wouldn't have happened if you just kept your distance from her and not end up in the same predicament like the others..."

X had driven the knife into the man's throat, and pulls it back out. He watches as the man gurgle in his own blood rushing out of his mouth. He continues his attack until he was satisfied.

He only stopped a buzz emits in his pocket that came from his phone. With his bloodied hand, he tapped the screen and answers the caller.

"You got her? That's good news!" X muses, as he nods at the following sentences from the person in the other line.

His eyes flickers down to the mutilated and lifeless man in front of him, blood pours down onto the ground and pools around his shoes. He clicked his tongue, thinking he made quite a mess this time.

"Yeah yeah, I got it. Remember, don't touch her. Unless, you got a death wish." X warns before ending the call. He began to walk towards the wall swapped with photos of you, filling his heart with love and feeling of ease.

"Sorry, my little lamb. You just have to learn the hard way this time." X took a certain picture from the wall, looking down on it with a soft eyes and smile. It was a picture of them back when they were still children.

"And this time, with driving fear into your heart. You'll realize that I'm the only you'll ever need and trust after I come and save you."

~•~

I think I flunked this lol.

Thanks for reading though <3

Happy holidays everyone!!!

#reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 x x reader #reverse 1999 x #r1999 x #x r1999 #reverse 1999 #r1999

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