#<- is trying and failing not to be mad at herself for getting behind
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friends? p.2
Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader
Summary: A rivalry between you and Cairo has been going on for several months…what does it take for her to finally break?
Warnings: there r literally none they bicker like an old couple and cairos mean
Word Count: 2k+
A/n: helloooo i’m not sure abt this chapter but lmk what u thought, i cranked this out in its entirety last night, enjoy!
part 1
Friendship was not Cairo Sweet's strong suit. Ask her about Dickinson or Austen or Shakespeare—these were all things she could answer. But the ultimate question of friendship was not something hot on Cairo's mind.
She didn't need it, that was her take. And why would she waste time on something she didn't need?
Friends, much less a partner, was something she never saw for herself. The thought of being a housewife, living in a picture-perfect picket fence house, appalled her. The only things that mattered were her, her writing, and Yale.
So when a certain girl had entered her life, she hated it.
You.
You with your stupid face, and pretty hair, she hated you. A burning passion so intense it heated up her heart and made it race. So intense that she wanted to punch you in the face whenever you passed, only to bandage it up with feather light touches so she could punch you again harder.
At first it was nothing; she didn't have a thing to worry about. A blushing face while you stammered and fumbled around trying to give Mr. Miller an answer, she disregarded you as someone she could respect immediately.
But obviously she had caught you on a bad day, because after those first few weeks, you managed to present yourself in a less idiotic way.
You were, surprisingly smart.
Almost too smart, she pondered. It was getting in the way of her own studies. How could it be, that someone was on bar (never better) than her?
Often she found herself seething at you, arguing at every chance she had with your answers; but, you had given her the same treatment as well.
It wasn't strange for your classes to end in heated debate, both sides failing to yield. It bothered her greatly. She went back home and read more than she'd ever read before, studied just a few minutes longer because she could feel you taunting her.
"Sweet." You nodded, as she pushed open the doors to Millers class. You'd made it a habit to arrive early, leaving only you and her for a good thirty minutes before everyone else arrived.
It was infuriating. To have you so close, open, ready to harm, yet she could do nothing. She'd been having a particularly grueling week. Her parents had just come back from Brazil; and, always seemed to be ready to go at her throat. Gone were her lonely but comforting nights on her bed, candle-lit. Now it was just fights and condescending jabs.
"What did you get on the paper?" Your voice piped up, breaking her from her train of thought. You were referring to the paper Mr.Miller had given back last week, one that counted for forty percent of the grade.
She felt a swell of pride. Scores were something she could argue about. This would take off the stress she'd been building.
"99." She smirked, cocking her head to the side.
You whistled approval, nodding adamantly. Even though there was nothing to suggest so, she could swear she felt condescension in your tone.
She was good at picking out stuff like that. The roll of someone's tongue, the way they smack their lips—it all meant something to her.
She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. "What did you get?" She asked, brows furrowed.
You didn't say anything, simply holding up a finger and mouthing 'one hundo' and watched as disbelief took over her features.
"You're fucking lying." She seethed. Her good mood had suddenly disappeared just as fast as it had appeared.
You spun around in your seat, stupid smile on your face. God, she wanted to jump at you and claw it off.
"Hey, hey, it's okay to be mad. You can't be the best at everything." You told her, hands behind your head.She gripped the desk harder, knuckles turning a faint white.
She stood up, walking over to your desk."You little shi-"
"Good morning, the both of you!" Mr.Miller interrupted, cheery smile. His enthusiasm radiated off his body like rays radiated from the sun. He stopped short when he saw Cairo stalking close to you, a clear pout on her face.
"What are you doing?" He asked, question directed towards her, voice sickly sweet. He had grown fond of Cairo since the beginning of the term; she was his favorite student.
"I'd like her to be removed from the class. Can't you do that Mr.Miller?" She avoided his question, tilting her face at an angle where her chocolate colored eyes shone bright.
His white brows furrowed, not quite comprehending. "You mean," He started, "right now...?"
Bless him, he had no clue how manipulative Cairo was.
She doesn't let up, doesn't let her disappointment show. You notice it in the slight clench of her jaw--she's annoyed.
"I meant for the rest of the term, I can't stand being in the same class as her." She emphasized her words with a glare in your direction. You send her a sweet smile back.
"Please, flattery will get you nowhere." You winked, smile turning into a real one when you see her get visibly agitated.
"Please, girls. Let's be civil here all right?" Mr.Miller pipes up, trying to stand in between Cairo and you. It does nothing to lessen the tension in the air.
He turns slightly to Cairo, voice firm. "And no...I won't kick Y/N out."
The childish part of you desperately wants to fist pump the air; but, the more serious side of you decides maybe you shouldn't do that in the company of your arch nemesis.
Class turns weird fast. Cairo—normally quick and adamant—stays quiet, seemingly distracted by the simplest of things: a bird singing softly from a window, the great big forests where her house stood, the sound of your feet continuing to scrape against the carpet.
It irks you a little. It has you not listening in class, wanting to focus on the girl in front of you.
You almost don't hear it when Miller announces that you'll be working in pairs for the midterm project, preoccupied with her bobbling head, moving as if she were listening to some imaginary music.
"You will not be able to pick your own partner, that's already been done for...by me." He adds, after hearing the onslaught of voices from the students. It's clear he's not changing his mind.
"Alright. When I call your names, go sit with your pair and discuss how you'll do the assignment. Olivia, Taylor." He calls out the first pair, going down (what seems like) an endless list of names, never quite getting to yours.
You watch as countless people move around, silently looking out for who hasn't been called yet. You needed to get a good grade on this, and a lazy partner was going to be a nightmare.
You strain your ears to hear Mr.Miller over the commotion of students moving, but when you turn to squint at him you're surprised to see he's already looking at you.
A sinking feeling eats your entire being whole as you watch his mouth move. He points his finger at you, then someone in front of you.
Cairo Sweet.
Fuck.
Even though you loved to tease her, you did not need to have Cairo Sweet as your partner. She was likely to ruin you before you even got to starting the thing.
You don't make the first move to get up, instead you sit dumbly in your chair, bracing yourself.
Your peace is disrupted by a huff from above you. There she is.
"Move over. I need a seat." She says, something in her voice making you oblige. She pulls over an extra chair and sits by the other end of the table.
"You can come closer ya know." You say, unsure of how friendly to be. You'd only ever really spoke with her from a distance, a comfortable distance. Now that she's up in your personal space you feel ike you're going to suffocate.
She ignores you, pursing her lips as she listens to Miller explain the project.
You inch your chair closer, prepared to make a sly jab at the way she's being a teachers pet, but her stare—which has now been redirected on you—stops you in your tracks. She looks scary.
Lips downturned, nostrils flaring, you're a bit taken aback.
"Okay jeez. You don't have to be such an ass about it." You mumble, distancing yourself a great deal further than you already were. The mood, if it weren't enough already, turns more sour.
She ignores your suggestions and remarks on how to do the project, scribbling something down on to her notepad every now and then.
"Earth to you, Sweet. Are you listening to me?" You press, starting to feel those tendrils of annoyance grabbing you. It was one thing to be an ass, but to put her own feelings above doing good work was low, even for her.
Especially for her, you think.
"Do you ever shut up?" She growls, biting her cheeks so hard you could see the indent it was making on the outside.
"Okayyy...someone's obviously going through something, but can we just-" You gesture to the sheet of paper on the table, you haven't even been allowed to look at what she's written yet.
"I am NOT going through something." She says again, voice cracking. The sound brings forth a peculiar reaction in you, your mouth hanging open. Her eyes look...watery.
Before you can utter a word she's getting up and storming out the classroom, making heads turn left and right at the loud noise.
"Um...I'll be right back too." You say, sending Mr.Miller a cheeky smile and a wink, hoping that'll lessen his curiousity enough to not come out after the two of you.
You push open the doors, call Cairos' name a couple times.
You eventually find her outside, back pressed against the brick wall. She's lighting up a cigarette.
Her body language looks more calm now, but you're not sure what to do. You shuffle on your feet, twiddling your thumbs.
"Sorry I did that." She speaks, not turning to look at you. It startles you a bit, you hadn't realized she saw you.
"Cairo Sweet saying sorry? I must be dreaming." You try, although you're not smiling and she doesn't laugh. Humor seems to be sucked away in this little bubble belonging to only the two of you.
You move a little closer, then even closer when Cairo doesn't object. Even though you did hate her to the bone, you wanted to make sure she was okay.
"Are you...alright?" You ask softly, watching her face for an answer. She seems to be deep in thought.
She takes a swing from her cigarette and blows. "I don't like you." Is what she says.
The ice breaks. You no longer feel like you're supposed to pity her. This was Cairo Sweet, her heart was made of coal.
"Yeah I think we established that. Anything else?" You sigh, leaning back so you're also pressed up against the wall.
She turns to you, and for the first time, she doesn't seem very mad.
"I don't like you." She says again, moving closer. It's in your natural instinct to step back, why was she being so weird? Was she going to hurt you?
She grips your shoulder lightly, enough for you to get the message to stay still.
"I don't like you." Cairo mutters for the third time, eyes piercing into yours. She seems to be speaking a little lower, a little raspier than normal. Cogs seem to be turning in her head, debating and debating and debating.
Debating on what you can't be certain.
"I get it, you don't like me. So what?" You mummur, voice lower than normal. The proximity is making your mind feel a little clouded.
You try not to let your gaze drift down to her lips, but when there's nothing around to distract yourself with, they do.
Her freckles, the ones that litter her face. You get the disgusting urge to touch them.
"So...don't get the wrong idea." She says before taking your lips in a kiss.
It takes you a second to comprehend what's really happening. You stand frigid, mouth parting to gasp. You're gasp is swallowed by her own lips, soft and supple.
Once Cairo feels that you aren't responding, she pulls away, frightened look on her face. Pink lips downturned, her cheeks a rosy red. You don't have time to process what the right move is. For now, you don't need Cairo thinking you didn't like whatever that was.
You reach for her neck, pull her in for a second kiss. It's somehow better than the first. She responds quick, hands wandering to cup your face, then down to circle your waist, then up to tangle in your hair—like she's changing her own mind too quick.
You let her take the lead, pressing you into the wall with a strength you didn't know she possessed.
You're too lost in it all, the smell of her shampoo, the feeling of her teeth scraping your lips, biting down only the slightest, her fingers burning traces wherever they go.
"Sweet." You breathe, coming out more like a soft moan than you would've liked.
She breaks apart from you, a wild mess. You think she's never looked prettier, hair everywhere, lips torn from your heated kisses.
Her eyes are soft until they flash and something else takes over. It's as if your voice had brought her back to life.
"I don't like you." She snarls, and promptly turns on her heels, just a slight increase in speed than her normal strut.
You're left breathless, staring out into the green plains. Mind and heart racing, you're not sure which organ you should listen to.
The implication of what you did hits you like a freight train. You groan and press your hands to your head, willing and willing and willing for a solution to come out of it.
Not to anyones surprise, nothing comes. A magic fairy doesn't tell you what to do, and you're still standing behind school panting.
"Oh god."
#cairo sweet x reader#cairo sweet#millers girl#tara carpenter x reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#melrodrigo#mine#enemies to lovers
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clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
[fem!daughter of apollo reader]
[part 2 to the trees]
summary: clarisse is being weirdly standoffish, and you’re not one to cave to that, no matter how much you like her. and no matter how things go, you still have to get your weapons from the forest.
warnings: swearing, arguing, fighting, monsters, PINING BUT THEYRE IDIOTS, everyone’s so mad at each other rn, kissing (AHHHH), canon typical violence, again probably slightly ooc clarisse but hey i love her anyway
word count: 3.2k
(uhhh so this is probably not what anyone was expecting for part two but this is how i alway a planned it, so here it is!! tag list in reblogs and also thank you for the love on the trees! i love you all so much <3 and i’d die for you just like clarisse and this dumb bitch here would die for each other)
(this is much more enemies to lovers than the first one btw so have fun)
———————————————
the day after capture the flag was always a little tense. of course it was. half the camp had just lost, and not many people at camp were good losers, especially not those who got their butts kicked.
this time, though, there was a new level of tension in the air.
ares kids didn’t often run the flag over the line themselves, and those who did were crowing about it at breakfast, then all morning too.
curiously, clarisse wasn’t. she was eating in silence, picking through her eggs like she was searching for something.
you’d never seen her like that before. no one had. but, it seemed you were the only person to notice. you always were, and you were okay with that.
your brother nudged your arm and shot you a questioning look, but you brushed him off with a smile.
why was clarisse so down? she’d won. what did she have to be upset about? was she mad at you? did you do something to piss her off in the tree? she hadn’t seemed exactly happy when she left.
stuck in your thoughts, you didn’t realise she’d met your eyes until your brother elbowed you.
“ow! what do you want?” you snapped, rubbing your rib cage tenderly.
“clarisse is staring at you,” he said with wide eyes. “dude… what did you do?”
“nothing,” you scoffed and stood up, taking your empty plate to the stack of dirty dishes, trying—and failing—to not look at clarisse as you left.
“y/n, wait up!”
you slowed down for sam as he jogged to catch up to you. there was a newfound bitterness in your mouth when you saw him. you’d never liked him, not like he’d liked you, but you’d never felt like you wanted to be away from him. not like you did in that moment then. but where would you go? to clarisse? yeah, right, she’d laugh in your face, regardless of whatever happened—or might have happened—in that tree.
“what’s up?” you asked. you couldn’t help your voice being drier than usual.
“just wanted to see how those arrows did you? were they good? i can make some more, if you want.” he looked almost eager to do so.
you smiled kindly. he really was sweet. “they were great, thanks, sam. best arrows i’ve ever used, even if i didn’t get too much of a chance to use them.” your steps faltered. “i did leave one in the forest though. i’ll have to get that later.”
your eyes locked on clarisse as she walked towards you down the path. two of her siblings were behind her, laughing, but she wasn’t. in fact, her jaw was set tight and she was glaring. at sam.
“i could come with you?” he suggested. “watch your back. keep you safe, you know?”
clarisse scoffed as she passed. “she doesn’t need you to keep her safe, tool-box.”
that was a little mean. sure, sam carried his tool-box everywhere, but you never know what might need to be fixed! despite yourself, you had to hold in a laugh. your eyes were alight with amusement as you locked gaze with clarisse.
she looked proud of herself, a jaunty grin on her lips. you couldn’t help your gaze dropping to them briefly. she smiled wider. it was infuriating. she now knew what her effect on you was, and she was using it.
“if she needed someone to protect her, she’d come to me, right, angel?” she tilted her head.
your mouth was infuriatingly dry. you nodded. “uh—“
“whatever,” sam snapped. “come on, y/n. let’s go.”
you kind of wanted to stay, but his grip on your arm didn’t leave any room for an argument. you trailed after him as he left, glancing over your shoulder just in time to see clarisse’s face darken with anger.
“angel?” sam scoffed. “who does she think she is?”
“uh…”
“whatever. gods, she’s just so—“ he turned and faced you, almost causing you to bump into his chest. you’d never seen him so intense before. “stay away from her, y/n. seriously. she’s bad news.”
“she’s nice to me,” you protested.
“she’s not nice to anyone. don’t be naive.” he turned on his heel and started to walk away, then turned back, his face softer. “come on. do you want to learn how to weld? you said you did last week.”
did you? you didn’t remember that. but you did vaguely remember a conversation with sam that you spent zoned out and staring at clarisse as she trained, so that was probably it. “oh, no… i have to… train…”
he looked disappointed, but nodded. “okay, that’s cool. maybe another day. or maybe, we can… go for a walk together? or even have lunch on the beach?”
you nodded absently. “maybe.”
“great, it’s a date!”
you frowned. “it’s a what?”
he looked happier than you’d ever seen him. he even kissed your cheek before walking off, a new spring in his step. you stood there for a moment, eyes wide, wondering what the hell just happened. then you heard a scoff from behind you.
when you turned around, clarisse was walking away.
“clarisse,” you said softly, jogging after her. “clarisse, wait!”
“go hang out with your boyfriend, l/n.” she snapped, her arms crossed as she walked. “he’s probably waiting for you so you two can make out in that sweaty little sex dungeon they call a workshop.”
your eyebrows shot up. “okay, first of all, i’m pretty sure it is actually a workshop, and second of all, he’s still not my boyfriend!”
she scoffed again but didn’t answer, stomping up the steps to the ares cabin and stopping at the top, looking down at you.
you felt small under her gaze, but you didn’t back down.
“what are you doing here?” she asked after a moment.
“you said i could come get a new dagger,”you said.
she rolled her eyes and leaned on the porch railing. “and?”
you frowned, looking up at her. “and… i’m here to get one?”
she regarded you for a few seconds in silence, then, just as she was about to speak, a new voice called out.
“clarisse, are you giving out girlfriend privileges already?” one of her brothers, marcus, you thought, stepped into the doorway of the cabin and peered around her to look at you. he looked like a stereotypical son of ares: buff, tall and mean. “that’s cute.” he continued, looking at you like you were an animal in a zoo.
“she’s not my girlfriend,” she scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.
well, that hurt.
“yeah, we’re just—“
“we’re not even friends,” she added hurriedly, not even looking at you. “she just thinks she’s special.”
your jaw clenched. that really hurt. “i don’t think i’m special,” you snapped. “i think i want you to honour your word from yesterday or go and get my dagger out of the forest for me.”
“not my fault you forgot your dagger,” she studied her nails nonchalantly.
“but if you hadn’t thrown my dagger out of a tree and tossed my new arrow aside like it was trash then i wouldn’t have forgotten. and maybe if you hadn’t leaned in like you were about to kiss me, maybe i wouldn’t have forgotten either.” your gaze was as sharp as hers was, meeting in the middle with fire and lightning crackling between you.
she stepped forward, face to face with you. for a second, you thought she’d punch you, but you didn’t back down.
then she laughed. it wasn’t at all like her laugh in the tree the day before. this was her cold, cruel laugh that she usually saved for her victims. with a start, you realised that’s what you were: another victim of clarisse la rue. your heart broke for a split second before you pulled yourself together and straightened your back, meeting her eyes.
“kiss you?” she snickered. “get your head out of your ass, angel, you’re not all that because you can shoot a bow and climb a tree.”
you stepped closer to her, so you were right up in her face. “and you’re not all that because you scare away everyone who cares about you, just because your daddy’s a little mean. you don’t need to be a bitch about everything.”
you regretted it instantly. you’d gone too far. you knew that.
her face dropped and a hurt look flashed through her eyes, but it died as soon as it came to life.
you stepped back and turned, marching away.
“where are you going?” she called after you. “we’re not finished here!”
“you have something else to say to me, clarisse, you come find me!” you shot back, your voice hard. you didn’t start arguments often, but goddamn did you finish them.
you stomped into the forest, determined to find your dagger and arrow so you could prove to both clarisse and sam that you were capable of more than just shooting arrows from trees and running away from fights.
it was darker today. the clouds that covered camp half-blood permeated through the forest, leaving a heavy weight suspended among the trees. the air felt thicker, even, and the birdsong seemed quieter than usual. was there something around? something hanging in the air, waiting to attack you? drag your body back to camp and leave it on clarisse’s doorstep like a cat bringing in a dead bird?
or was your fear just because you were alone instead of with the rest of camp.
whatever it was, it put you on edge.
there was a clicking sound behind you, like someone was cracking a joint, but when you turned, no one was there. you weren’t foolish enough to call out.
you could feel a chill going down your spine, and that’s when you knew: the first shoe had dropped.
your eyelids fluttered and you nearly dropped to the ground, but you leaned heavily against a tree to catch yourself. typical. go out on your own, thinking you can take care of yourself and you get hit with a premonition. how’s that for fate?
you let the feeling wash over you; the pure panic of the near future and the warm grip of a hand on your wrist, like someone was pulling you along.
the future was not looking promising.
there was another clicking sound behind you as you finally managed to straighten up, much closer this time.
you turned around.
the bushes were rustling.
you suddenly realised what that clicking sound was.
mandibles.
two ants the size of german shepherds burst through the foliage. myrmeke.
there was the other shoe, dropping real hard.
“shit!” you stumbled backward, reaching for a weapon. you had no weapon. “double shit!”
you turned and ran.
the ants were fucking fast. they could have caught up to you if you weren’t so agile, turning and springing off in different directions every few steps, sending them careening into trees and rocks. that was the only thing keeping you alive.
where even were you? you didn’t recognise this area. hopefully you weren’t running directly for their anthill. that would be a real twist of fate.
then you burst into a new area, this one with a large tree—a large tree that you recognised.
“yes!” you exclaimed, dashing for the trunk. you found your dagger easily, then your discarded arrow too. you didn’t know what good they’d do against the myrmeke, considering that their shells were as hard as armour and, while force was good in some cases, you had to admit that sharpness may have helped you against them.
you couldn’t run anymore. your screaming lungs told you that. you couldn’t climb either. the ants could climb better than you and you’d be a sitting duck up there, no matter how high you went. but maybe, just maybe, you could hold them off until they got bored or someone realised you were missing.
it wasn’t easy, but you managed to deflect and dodge the myrmeke’s attacks. they were fast, but you were faster. you even managed a swipe at one of their legs as you rolled past, but all it did was leave a tiny chink in its armour.
you were beginning to lose hope.
honestly, what you wouldn’t give for a spear right now. your blunt dagger and slim arrow were about as good as a toothpick against these monsters.
just as you were backed against the tree that you’d once found a safe haven, you heard a battle cry. you could have sobbed from relief, but instead, as the spear-wielding figure landed on top of one of the ants, driving her weapon into the gap between its armoured plates, you took your opportunity to stab your arrow with as much force as you could into the other ant’s gaping mouth, slipping it precisely between its mandibles and, hopefully, into its brain.
it jerked back in pain and screeched, the sound making your ears ring, but it didn’t die. instead, it looked rightfully pissed off, and now it had an arrow sticking from its mouth.
as your saviour pulled her spear from the ants back, a warm, brown liquid sprayed on you. it smelled like ants always did after you crushed them, just a million times worse. you wondered if this was revenge for all the ants you’d murdered in your life.
“gross!” you exclaimed, wiping it off your face.
“grow up, bows, we gotta go!” clarisse. your saviour was clarisse. of course.
just as you were about to protest, two more myrmeke crept out of the forest towards you.
she gripped your wrist, right where that warmth was in your premonition, and dragged you away, making you drop your dagger in the rush.
“i dropped my—“
“save it!” she snapped, pulling you along.
the desperation in her voice kicked you into gear and you started running faster, alongside her now.
you didn’t use the same tactics as before. instead of dodging, you just ran as fast as you could and prayed that the myrmeke would be slower. clarisse seemed to know where she was going, at least.
“you’re such an idiot!” clarisse yelled as they ran.
“we’re doing this now?” you panted incredulously.
“you could have died!”
“we’ll both die if you don’t stop yelling at me!”
finally, gloriously, you breached the edge of the forest and stepped into camp. the myrmeke wouldn’t follow you there.
you dropped to you knees, panting and staring into the forest. clarisse was standing in front of you, her spear ready, just in case.
you’d stepped into a quiet part of camp up behind the amphitheatre, so there was no one around to see you, and no one around to help you. you had a feeling that if the myrmeke didn’t kill you, clarisse wouldn’t hesitate.
once it was clear that they weren’t following, she rounded on you.
you were still on your knees, your legs too tired and shaky with adrenaline to stand, but she didn’t seem to care.
“what were you thinking, going in on your own?” she snapped.
“well i wasn’t expecting to get attacked by killer ants within the camp’s borders!” you protested.
“everyone knows they’re there.”
“i forgot, okay? i’m not perfect.”
“oh, i know.” she rolled her eyes.
“gods, would you just fuck off?” you finally stood up, face to face with her. “you’re horrible sometimes, you know that? i can’t believe i’ve defended you.”
“i don’t need your defending.”
“and i don’t need your help!”
“you would have died!” she yelled, emphasising every word.
“but i didn’t!” you shouted back.
she rolled her eyes and stepped closer, anger practically radiating off her. “yeah, thanks to me. you’d be dead if i hadn’t followed you in there—“
“why did you follow me?” you asked suddenly, voice harsh.
“what?”
“why did you follow me?” you asked again, slower. “i didn’t ask you to look after me, clarisse.”
there it was again. that slightly relaxation of her shoulders when you said her name. it drove you nuts. you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss her for hours or throw her to the myrmeke.
she tensed up again and turned to leave. “whatever. i’m done here.”
“i’m not!” you gripped her shoulder and pulled her back around. to your surprise, she didn’t pull a weapon on you. “why did you follow me, clarisse? was it the same reason that you were flirting with me yesterday? and why you’re so protective of me? and why you hate sam?”
“i wasn’t flirting with you,” she grumbled. “and i hate sam for… personal reasons. and i’m not protective of you! why would you even think that?”
“that’s all bullshit and you know it,” you sneered.
“gods, you aggravate me!” she exclaimed.
“you didn’t have to come help me,” you scoffed, stepping back. “i didn’t ask for your help.”
“and i didn’t want to help you!”
“then why did you? huh? you could handle not winning a fight? you wanted to finish the argument on your terms?” your eyebrows were raised and your face was cold. “or were you gonna beat me up but the giant killer ants got to me first?”
she looked like she was about to explode with anger. “because i love you!”
the air escaped from your lungs in one sharp moment, and it looked like hers did the same thing.
“what?” you asked, your voice softer.
it was silent. she looked like she was trying to find something to say, but couldn’t. her mouth opened and closed weakly, and she shook her head, lips pressed together. you wanted to kiss her.
so you did.
she tensed up as your hands came to her waist, pulling her body and lips against yours hard. then, finally, she relaxed. she dropped her spear at your feet and raised her hands to your hair, threading her fingers through the strands. she was a softer kisser than you’d expected, but it was definitely her. it was all her. the tug on your hair, the underlying, undeniable harshness of the kiss, the spear that rested against your foot. it was perfectly clarisse. you could have kissed her until the sun went down and the ants came and carried you both to their anthill, and if you stayed kissing her like this, you wouldn’t even mind.
when, finally, you pulled away, you were both breathing heavily. all of the tension from the fight hid dissipated, leaving only a warm sparkling in the air, like a mirage around her face in the sunlight. maybe that was a sign? or a vision? whatever it was, it was heaven-sent.
she was smiling. she looked softer like this. gods, you loved it. it felt like fate, and you knew a lot about fate. fate was fickle. fate was cruel. fate brought you the arguments, the myrmeke, the terror. but fate also brought you this. this girl who was glowing in the sun like she was made of pure rays of light. the girl with a spear that she laid down at your feet and would save you barehanded if you asked. the girl who had sunk into your arms like she was made to be there.
“do you think i can get that new dagger now?” you asked cheekily, playing with the hem of her camp shirt. “i mean, i have girlfriend privileges now, right, babe?”
clarisse rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “shut up, devil.”
“ooh, devil. that’s new,” you teased. “i like it. it’s apt.”
“it sure is.” she looked down. “i’m… sorry, by the way.”
“me too,” you nodded. “i didn’t really mean any of that, you know?”
“‘cause you like me,” she said in a teasing voice.
“yeah, ‘cause i like you, or whatever.” you kissed her again, smiling against her lips. “and i know you like me too, because you so did nearly kiss me in that tree yesterday.”
she shrugged. “maybe. maybe not. guess we’ll never know.”
you found out at the next capture the flag game. and the next. and the next. she would go out of her way to find you, defeat you, then kiss you before running off to win the games. and honestly, you didn’t really mind.
fate was a fickle thing, but with clarisse by your side, no one could touch you. sam left you alone, people started treating you better, and you had everything you could ask for. her.
and whenever you two argued, you’d go into the woods together and kill some ants. after all, what says ‘couple’s bonding’ quite like murder?
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo#pjo tv show#pjo x reader#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#dior goodjohn
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How would that keep us safe?
(Kimi Raikkonen x pregnant!wife!reader)
Inspo
When a formula 1 driver's car fails on them, they would a. be angry, b. go straight to their engineers, c. stay in the team's motor home.. but not kimi raikkonen, no sir, especially not with his pregnant wife on a yacht on her own.
or
in which Sebastian Vettel, Mark Webber and Jenson Button make fun of the infamous ice man for being head over heels for his wife so he just decides to double down.
WARNINGS: not proof read (when do I ever proof read this stuff), no sense of timeline whatsoever, just a small crackhead fic that came to mind. Thank you insta algorithm for the Kimi edits, the man is so fine omg, solid dilf right here people.
Masterlist
"God," yn huffed as she, for an accurate description, waddled alongside her husband, Kimi Raikkonen into the Mclaren garage "if you don't keep it in your pants next time I will chop it off."
"Yes dear." Kimi replied with a smile on his face, hiding his laughter as best as he could to spare himself the lecture that would inevitably make him laugh harder- he can't help it, his wife is much more adorable trying to give him an earful with her puffed cheeks, stomping feet and her belly looking like it's about to pop at any second.
It hadn't even been 30 minutes before yn started to feel the heat getting to her, making her fan herself with the collar of her shirt while glaring at the fan that evidently did nothing to help her out.
"Everything alright dear?"
"No, no!" yn turned to look at her husband "it's so fucking hot i feel like my skin is melting off and your daughter wouldn't stop kicking my bladder so no, nothing is fucking alright!"
While the engineers around gulped, scared for their lives, Kimi bit his lips to avoid smiling at his very cute, frustrated wife. He had gotten used to her snapping at him whenever any little thing annoyed her, he knew it's the least he can do and she always apologises so no harm done really.
"It's okay, here, how about you go watch the race from the yacht? Will that be better?" Kimi whispered as he stood behind his wife with his hands underneath her belly, lifting it up to give his wife some rest.
"Oh my god," yn groaned in relief "I really needed that, I love you."
Staying like that for a few minutes, yn agreed that it would be much better if she watched the race from the yacht in her swimming suit, the atmosphere and the clothing would definitely make it much more comfortable for her. And just as she was about to leave, new company arrived.
"Ohhh, did he piss you off enough to leave him before a race?"
"Damn Kimi, don't make a pregnant woman that mad, especially not your wife."
The voices of Sebastian Vettel and Jenson Button joined the couple, along with the laugh of Mark Webber.
"Oh, shut up." As much as Kimi tells yn that he would rather eat chalk than willingly hang out with these guys, he is indeed fond of them.
"He didn't piss me off," yn pulled her husband down so she could kiss him, smiling upon hearing two of the three newcomers groan and a whistle (of course it's sebastian) "i just feel like I will burst any second so I am going to watch the race from One More Toy"
"What the fuck is one more toy?"
"Oh, it's kimi's yacht."
"Our yacht."
Placing one palm on her belly while his other rests on her cheek, Kimi smiled at his wife "be safe, yes?"
"Yeah, of course."
Giving her a kiss on her forehead, Kimi let go of his wife, watching her head towards his yacht with the help of one of the interns.
"Be safe." Came the mocking voice of Jenson Button
"I'll be so safe." Sebastian continued as they both reincarnated the way Kimi and Yn were standing a few seconds ago; Jenson's hands on Sebastian's stomach and cheek
"I'm going to kill you on this track."
Deciding to join, Mark stood in between Sebastian and Jenson, breaking up their proximity and placing his arms around their shoulders "but how would that keep us safe?"
"An engine failure, yet again from Mclaren."
"It seems like Raikkonen is the one who will retire this race, what a shame."
"Everyone was hoping for him to win this race, he had been phenomenal these past few races giving one stellar performance after the other, truly a waste to see him go this early into the race."
"Well, it looks like Kimi is going to walk to the garage."
"That is insane, it's like a 20 minute walk, no?"
"And we are back, and oh my god, there is Kimi Raikkonen in his yacht, he hasn't got a shirt on, with his wife on his lap, the father to be could not care less in this moment ladies and gentlemen."
"What a legend, the Iceman strikes again everyone, leaving the race to be on a yacht with his family. And oh my god, it seems that the couple are having the time of their lives on their yacht 'one more toy' with snacks all around and their hands all over each other."
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1#kimi räikkönen#kimi raikkonen#kimi räikkonën#kimi raikkonen x reader#kimi raikkonen x you#kimi raikkonen x wife reader#kimi raikkonen x pregnant reader#f1 smau#f1 instagram au#f1 social media au
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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Eighteen
Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.
Warnings: Nothing super specific, but things get pretty dark (at least in my opinion). Mentions of torture.
The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist
Masterlist of Masterlists
Azriel grabbed Rhys by the front of his jacket, hands shaking horribly despite all his efforts to stop. It had started this morning, when another disastrous attempt to talk to Andrian had left Azriel with his mind in shambles, knife pressed against his own throat. It had been going on for weeks now. Someway, somehow, Andrian would find a way to break through Azriel’s defenses and force him to relieve his worst memories. Sometimes he dreamt of his burning hands. Mostly he thought of you, and the day he’d nearly killed you.
“Tell me you didn’t,” Azriel growled desperately. “Tell me!”
It was too easy for him to pick out when his brother was speaking with Feyre, and something about the way Rhysand had been looking at him— like he was a fraction of a second away from splintering into a million pieces — told Azriel enough about who had been sent for. You were the only one who could calm him. The only one who could do what he and Rhys had failed to do.
Violet eyes shone from a perfectly handsome face. A face he knew too well. A face that he wanted to punch right now.
“I’m afraid I can’t, brother,” Rhysand responded gravely.
Azriel slammed his fist against the wall instead, taking out a chunk of granite that spit grey dust into the air. He swore beneath his breath, pacing the hallway and trying to steady his racing heart. He’d never wanted you to see this place. He’d never even wanted you to step foot on the island above, its rolling peaks a stark contrast to the tunnels below where Azriel conducted his business. Business that stained his hands a thousand shades of red.
“You’ve been working yourself ragged, Az, and Andrian still hasn’t said anything. Not to you. Not to me. We need to know all we can about Koschei. Vassa’s on the brink of madness. Henna’s dead. I can’t even get past Andrian’s mental wards. What the fuck are we meant to do?”
“So you thought to go behind my back and bring Y/n into this?! She’s not something for you to use, Rhys.”
“She’s already in this mess.” Rhys reminded him, as he often did. His eyes softened as he looked to the locked door at the end of the hall with its small, rectangular window. Bars breaking up the lamplight glowing from within. “And you know she’d agree this is the best course of action. She’ll be able to do it.”
Azriel’s hands shook. “Give me another week and I’ll get us the information we need. Tell Feyre to turn around. Don’t bring Y/n here.” Don’t let her see this part of me.
“The boy doesn’t have another week. He doesn’t even have a day.”
The shaking traveled throughout Azriel’s entire body. His eyes darkened and he began the process of hiding his heart away within the void that curled inside of him. That wicked beast that was always on the verge of swallowing him whole.
Feyre winnowed you both to the outskirts of the northern territories and you went from sweating in your fur-lined leathers to shivering in the knee deep snow. The Illyrian Mountains rose behind you like predatorial rows of shark teeth and the endless sea stretched in front, slate grey and empty except for lonely ripples of sea foam. Through the frosty haze you could make out a smattering of islands, each with their own tooth-like tips capped with snow and ice. Feyre looked at you, her eyes leaning more towards blue now that she’d tapped into the Winter Court’s power to stave off the cold.
The Warren was protected by wards that made winnowing impossible, so you let Feyre scoop you up in her powerful arms, wings growing from her back like unfurling shadows before the ground dropped away from her feet and she took off into the sky.
You clung to her shoulders, eyes slamming shut so you wouldn’t have to look down at the churning black waters and the rocks they crashed against. If you were to fall now, you could only hope you drown before the waves ripped your body to pieces against the rocks like meat torn between a pair of canines.
You stayed frozen and tight as a coil until the rush of wind stopped and you no longer felt your stomach creeping up into your throat. You could have dropped to your knees and kissed the ground if you weren’t sure your lips would freeze there. You did shove your hands into the gritty sand though, breathing slowly through your nose until you finally had the strength to stand.
Feyre led you down the long stretch of beach, waves whistling in the wind — a haunting, beautiful melody, like a woman crying.
Azriel had discovered The Warren centuries ago. After a particularly brutal brawl that had left him with a broken arm and cracked ribs, he’d taken to the skies, desperate to escape the hard packed floors and burning scent of sex mixed with alcohol that seemed to invade every corner of the Windhaven barracks. He’d been fighting over a woman, a woman that had been dragged into the rowdy common room trembling with the telltale sign of a whisky haze over her burnt umber eyes, dress ripped and muddy.
Did it even matter that he’d brought her back untouched to that leaning house with its wooden slabs frosted over and the chimney coughing up black smoke like a diseased lung? Azriel had wondered as he flew without a destination in mind. And when he’d finally collapsed on the island, frozen ground beneath his hands and knees and spitting out blood from his cut up gums, his shadows had tugged him towards the gaping mouth of The Warren, urging him to explore a darkness that was his and his alone. It had been his escape. A safe place in the world that had so few. But when Rhysand became High Lord and he the Spymaster, Azriel hadn’t hesitated to give up The Warren in the service of the Night Court, adding it to the long list of sacrifices he made so that he might actually start to feel like he deserved his place with his family.
You stilled in front of The Warren’s entrance, black walls glittering and damp from sea spray. Jagged, cracked bone rocks hovered overhead like axes ready to fall, jutting out of a cliffside and curling over the beach in the shape of a hunched back or an unhinged jaw. Wind whistled from within like asthma — high-pitched and keening.
“This is where you keep all your prisoners.” You weren’t asking a question, merely stating a fact.
Feyre had had little time for explanations back at the House. She’d focused on defending your body against the frigid cold to come, her mind split between you and Rhysand as he worried over Azriel from miles away.
“Not all of them. Only the ones Azriel finds useful.”
“The ones he plans to torture for information.”
From somewhere deep within the earth you swore you heard the clanging of chains, a growl, and a desperate groan that had the hair on your neck rising.
Feyre’s usual warmth was gone, replaced by something with more tact and less care. “This isn’t a place for the faint of heart, Y/n. And neither is Azriel. He’s tried to hide this from you, but it’s as much a part of him as anything else and if you care for him as much as I believe you do, you’re going to need to get used to this.”
There was the faintest flicker of doubt in your heart. “Andrian… he’s just a boy… you haven’t—Az hasn’t—”
“No,” Feyre said quickly. Horrified. “Azriel found him weeks ago trying to slip back into Day Court. We brought him here because it’s the most heavily warded place in Prythian and because the world needs to be protected from him as much as he needs to be protected from the world.” She grabbed your hands. They felt cold as ice. “Y/n. I swear to you, we haven’t hurt that boy. We won’t hurt him.”
“I know. I just… I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Already you felt sick to your stomach just for asking. Azriel was many things — dangerous, cruel to those he felt were deserving of it, maybe even murderous at times — but he was still Az… and you weren’t afraid. Not even as you let Feyre lead you into The Warren, and you were swallowed whole.
The mouth of the cave quickly narrowed into a tunnel before turning at a severe angle and twisting like a corkscrew downward. If it weren’t for you and Feyre’s glowing bodies, you might have missed one of The Warren’s slick steps and tumbled down forever.
You passed by two offshoots, each branching out into their own secret tunnels that whispered and echoed and smelled faintly of blood. Coppery and sour.
One of the rooms you walked through smelled like metal and limestone. The rust-colored ground and drain in the center of the floor told you all you needed to know about its purpose and before you could stop yourself, before you could even think about whether this was truly a good idea, you found yourself pressing a hand against one of the chains hanging from the ceiling.
If Feyre was right and this was truly a part of Azriel — something horrible that needed to come with all of the good that he was — then you wanted to know. You felt that you had some right to know, and if it was the power the Mother had granted you, then you would use it when you saw fit.
Feyre froze when your power flooded the room without warning, feeling the energy and fury radiating off your skin without even turning to look at you. You kept the memories a safe distance away, but drank in the knowledge of every horrible hand that had hung from that ceiling like you were reading a list of names from a book. You read their crimes. You read every drop of blood that Azriel had spilled on the ground.
“Y/n?” Feyre asked tentatively, fearfully, when you blinked and released the chain.
She had every hope the bond would snap in place for you soon and that you’d help end Azriel’s centuries of loneliness. That you might be the one to finally show him he was deserving of kindness. But to love Azriel as he was, with all his rough edges and the pain he could inflict as much as he carried… it was not for the faint of heart.
“I understand why Azriel wanted to hide this place from me. This part of him,” you said quietly and to no one in particular. Not even to Feyre. “But he shouldn’t have.” Your eyes turned harder than stone. “They deserved it. Each and every one of them.”
Feyre stood, shocked into silence, and it wasn’t until you gripped her arm and nudged her into the next room that she found she was able to walk again.
You passed by more hallways and more rooms, some disturbingly clean and empty, others with chains hanging from the ceiling or littered on the floor. But the strangest part was, you could smell Azriel within these cramped walls, and that alone made you quicken your steps.
You chased that familiar scent, walking confidently through the dark and passing Feyre until you were spit out in a long, neat tunnel with one metal door at the end. Tendrils of shadow flickered from around the corner.
“Azriel?”
Your heart pounded in your chest when you saw him leaning against the wall, hands folded behind his back. Rhys’s eyes flickered to you, then to his mate as she followed closely behind. Azriel stiffened, his eyes locked and heavy. Shadows tugged at his eyes and accentuated the sharpness of his cheeks. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the day he left you… which wasn’t so far from the truth. Because the whole time he’d been here, he’d been thinking of you, and the ways you might hate him for what he did and the sick corners of his soul. For—
You sailed into his arms, wrapping yourself around his torso and pressing your face into the hollow of his neck. Part of your mind chastised you, calling you silly and desperate as it reminded you it had only been ten days since you’d last seen him. But you didn’t care. It felt far longer than that. Too long.
You needed this almost as much as he did.
You disappeared behind his wings, cocooned safely in membranous folds and shadows that kissed your skin. Azriel himself buried his face in your hair, feeling some of his worst worries dissipate. You hadn’t run away. You hadn’t been so disgusted as to leave just yet.
“Y/n,” he murmured your name before kissing your temple. “Gods, I missed you.”
“I would hope so.” You murmured into the curve of his jaw, “I might be a boring bookworm but I’m better company than this place.”
Azriel winced. “You have no idea.”
You missed the pointed look that Rhys and Feyre threw your way, but Azriel didn’t. He was tall enough to see over your head as Feyre pointed to the door at the end of the hallway, eyes glistening. They had come here for a purpose, and the sooner it was over with, the sooner they could all go home.
Azriel’s arms tightened around you. “I didn’t want you to come here. I didn’t want… I didn’t want you to see the things I do.”
“I know.” You traced the curve of his jaw, thumb smoothing over his cheek. “But I’m not afraid, Azriel.”
His eyes flickered from fear to relief to love, like one of those picture books you had to flip through to see the scene play out.
“You’re not?”
You shook your head no. Then you kissed him on the lips and whispered the words for him and him alone. “I trust you. You’re the most terrifying thing here anyway, and you’re mine.”
Yours.
Azriel quitel liked the sound of that.
Even here in the dungeons burrowed beneath empty frozen lands, Azriel found it within him to hope. Horrid creatures might be hidden elsewhere, creeping like slugs under the earth that he’d have to crush beneath his boot or tear treasured secrets from, but for now you were still by his side. For now you were still his and he would always be yours.
You looped your arm through his and moved towards that door at the end of the hallway, steeling yourself for what you already knew was behind it.
The light from the barred window flashed warm and cool then warm again. Light warped and pranced. The scent of rot hung in the air, humid and choking. You touched the door handle, feeling the magic fall away like it recognized you and opened up into a makeshift, but quaint bedroom. There were no windows here for there was nothing to see below ground, but some of Feyre’s landscape paintings hung on the wall. Faelights bloomed overhead, throwing light and heat on a child’s bed with green sheets, a table, and a bookcase overflowing with an assortment of puzzles and novels and toys. You felt your blood turn cold. They’d once belonged to Nyx before being repurposed for the little boy trembling on the floor.
You stared at him in horror.
The little boy who’d been so violently bright that morning in the marketplace was dull. Although he was wearing fresh clothes, his skin had turned a stone gray, black marks dotting his once silken, silver skin like a disease. He was aware of his condition, weeping on the plush rug cut in the shape of a flower as he batted at his arms, willing them to turn healthy again.
“No no no no no no,” he sobbed. He grabbed at his pillowy hair in frustration and tugged. A cloud of fragile strands came away and he cried harder, trying to stick them back to his scalp.
Rhysand’s face was broken and pale. He tried not to look at Andrian. He was too young. Reminded him too much of his own son.
“You were right.” Rhysand’s voice was hollow, laced with a pain that grabbed your throat and squeezed. “Koschei did kill him. He’s been dead this whole time.”
“NO!” Andrian screamed. “HE DIDN’T! HE PROTECTED ME!”
Fat tears rolled out of filmy eyes, dusty and brown as pond water. Rage filled him with new energy and he tried to attack your mind as he’d already done with Azriel. But there was something altogether different about your magic, something flexible that morphed and rearranged your mental walls until it felt like he was trying to attack himself.
He gave up when your walls didn’t fall, and chose the physical route instead. You recoiled as he took a swipe, bony arms reaching out in an awkward lunge. But his legs were too weak and crumpled beneath him. He looked like a fish laid out to rot on a summer day — bloated and slick.
“Koschei brought him back to life for his powers—”
“HE LOVES ME! PAPA LOVES ME!”
“To use as he saw fit when the time was right.”
“But he can’t survive being separated for so long from Koschei’s power, can he?”
Just like Vassa. Left on their own without their maker they couldn’t handle the curses that had been placed on them. They’d bend until they broke… unless they found another way…
“The killings,” You murmured as the pieces slowly fell into place, “He killed those Librarians and the tailor and the florist…” You didn’t want to be right about this. You prayed to the Mother that you were wrong.
But Azriel read the thoughts in your eyes and nodded. Feyre could only stand still and Rhysand couldn’t do more than speak out in that dead voice of his.
Andrian had killed those fae, not just to send a message, but because that was the price for going against nature, for being brought back from the dead. Power demanded balance. To stay alive, Andrian had needed others to take his place. Those Librarians and the Velarians hadn’t been murdered. They’d been sacrificed.
What Koschei had done to this boy — what he’d turned him into — made you want to crawl into a dark corner and stay there forever.
Andrian’s sobs died out. A crack of lightning followed by unnerving silence that had Azriel’s blood freezing in his veins. Andrian wasn’t much older than he’d been when he’d first been tossed into that dark cellar. When his brothers had set his hands aflame.
“He loves me,” he declared, as if saying it would make it true. He stayed curled up in a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth on his heels. “He stayed when Henna left me. He wasn’t afraid of me like the others. He took care of me.”
But Koschei hadn’t taken care of him. He’d taught Andrian to love him. To worship him, because that’s what he craved above all else. He’d helped the boy control his powers and had allowed him to live so he could send him off to die when it was most convenient. You’d thought Henna was Koschei’s perfect soldier, but you were wrong. Andrian was. He’d been broken and molded into something that should never have existed. He’d been sent to Prythian after his sister’s death to take her place. A boy who would have no choice but to return to the lake or die trying.
And he was dying. You could see it clear as day. Two teeth clinked onto the floor and Andrian’s hands flew up to his mouth. He whimpered, eyes locking on you like you might be able to fix this.
You wanted to beg Rhys and Feyre to do something, to fix him, but it was a useless endeavor. They wouldn’t have brought you here if they could just reach into Andrian’s mind and end it all peacefully. Andrian was too powerful for that. But you could use another way.
You approached him like a wild, injured animal, grimacing when he tried to run at you only for his ankle to twist and then snap. He fell to the floor in a pathetic sprawl.
“Hey there, little feather.”
Andrian paused at that familiar nickname, watery eyes looking up. You said it just like Henna had once upon a time. The same inflection in a differently pitched voice. His lips trembled.
“She left me.”
You shook your head before kneeling on the ground in front of him. He smelled of death. It clung to his linen shirt and trousers. It clung to the few strands of hair still woven into his scalp, skin so thin you could make out his skull.
“She didn’t leave you, Andrian.” You poured your voice out over him, as soothing as you could make it, forcing the tears down. “She thought you’d died and that you’d stayed dead. She had a little ceremony for you out near the willow tree and buried your favorite toy beneath it with a handful of water lilies. Do you remember it? The little wooden doll you dressed up like a soldier with the red cap and the silver shoes?”
He clamped his hands over his ears, shaking his head while his weak neck teetered dangerously atop his shoulders.
“Andrian—” You pulled his hands away and in a bold, dangerous move brought them to your temple and slowly lowered your mental wards. You didn’t give him free reign, but rather guided him through snippets of memories you’d taken from Henna before her death. They all revolved around him. Before, and even after Koschei had poisoned their minds, Andrian had remained her true priority.
The boy’s eyes flashed from anger to confusion then, finally, to despair.
“She didn’t leave you.”
Andrian waited a few moments that had your heart seizing, then rushed into your arms, tightening them like a vice around your shoulders and burying his face in your hair. You held your breath, but tightened your grip. You weren’t his sister, but you were the closest thing he had.
Slowly, like sand falling through an hourglass, you felt his arms weaken and fall from your shoulders. He stared at you, wide and terrified as his hand snapped off at the wrist and fell to your side in a grey heap.
“Make it stop. Please make it stop.”
You smoothed back his hair, shoving down the tears that threatened to fall. His eyes were white now and unseeing. “It’s ok, little feather. It’s ok.”
“I don’t—” Even his voice was crumbling apart. Raspy and broken like cracked glass. He had little time left. The fight in him gone. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go to that dark place. Please don’t make me go.”
Azriel had been watching the entire time, trying not to picture the little boy with dark hair, weak wings, and bandaged hands. He went so, so still.
“Hey, hey, it’s ok. It’s going to be ok.” You promised. You forced your trembling lips into a smile.
He took in a rasping breath. “Will you go with me this time, Henna? Please.”
You gritted your teeth, brows furrowed in an effort to stay here instead of turning and sprinting back to the surface.
“I will. That’s why I came” You brushed his hair away from his forehead, saying nothing when the wispy white strands were torn away from his scalp like silk… just like the memories of Koschei’s lake you plucked from his mind without him knowing. You swallowed the pain of what you knew was coming. “I won’t let you be alone.”
He went quiet after that. Maybe his voice had deteriorated beyond saving, maybe he finally felt at peace. All you knew is that you needed to keep brushing his hair and holding onto his hand when he laid down and placed his head in your lap. He was like a little windup doll that had run out of string. He kept breathing until he finally stopped.
<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->
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Author's Note:
So... this was a rather sad one, bit of a tonal shift if you ask me, but I wanted to wrap up the stuff with Henna and Andrian before we continue on to other things.
BUT, you have to appreciate when Y/n walks into what's effectively a torture chamber and goes "yeah, nope, still in love with Azriel." It's just one of those things that gets brushed under the rug but like... this guy's WHOLE JOB is inflicting pain upon people.... and you know what, it's a fantasy book, so who the hell cares. We stan Y/n being supportive of Azriel's career lol
#the shadowsinger and the inkbird#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader slowburn#azriel shadowsinger
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Pops reacting to childreader 💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💸💸💸🪙💰
I have been cliff hung 1 to many times...
*this part opt but I have a feel either dragon or winged reader would be kinda scared at first.. cus he's built fucking different bro*
Wandering Dragon pt2 (Whitebeard Pirates x fem!reader)
A/N: Homie you got me dying with the comment uou left on the last post and the request made me cough out a lung 😂. What do y’all think bout this one? Cause I think I COOKED, it’s really wholesome
Part one With Whitebeard pirates and revolutionary army
Dividers by @/saradika
“And you know what? Even if you are only 8, I’m sure Pops isn’t going to turn you away. He’s gonna love you, Reader. You are just that darn adorable.”
She digs her head in his shoulder.
He snickers, feeling her face hearing up
“Aww. You’re so cute, you know that? What happened to the bold rascal?” he teases, gently stroking her head and hair.
The only response he receives is a gentle swat from her tail
Ace laughs even more.
“Aww, is that your way of saying you’re shy? “he says, pulling her closer.
“And a bit of a brat, aren’t you? Don’t think I missed that tail swat. But I can’t stay mad at such a cutie, now can I?” Thatch snickers, ruffling her hair
“Hmm... I need to bring you to Pops. You’re getting clingy already.”
She gasps and shoots up
“Am not!”
Ace laughs a bit.
“Are too!” he says, playfully poking her nose.
She pouts
Thatch grins at their interaction and gestures to Ace, who nods slightly; he approaches the girl slowly and suddenly digs his fingers in her.
She shrieks as he starts tickling her as she tries to wriggle out of Ace’s grasp
Thatch laughs loudly at seeing her struggling.
“Heh.. that’s adorable,”
She begins flapping her wings, getting out of his grasp, and flies up and out of the Storage room, giggling
“H-Hey, come back here.”
She laughs, looking back at them as they try to catch up to her, a similar emotion on their faces; as they chase her, she fails to notice where she is going, crashing right into someone.
“Ow, So…rry?” she begins, but her words die out as she sees who she crashed into, as right in front of her was a man the size of a mountain.
She wraps her wings around herself, coiling her tail around her body in a similar manner as she tries to hide from the man in front of her in fear.
The man is none other than Whitebeard himself, looking down at the young stowaway.
“Hm... who are you?” he asks, glancing at the men who run and stop behind her.
Ace laughs, pointing at her.
“We found her below deck. She says her name’s Reader. Looks like she was exploring before we happened upon her. Probably didn’t even know she was on our ship.”
She whimpers, wrapping her limbs tighter around herself until someone slowly steps closer and kneels down next to her; she takes a peek, spotting a man whose appearance reminded her of a pineapple
Marco smiles at the girl.
“Hey, kid. Don’t be scared. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says softly in a soothing tone for her.
She stares at him but makes no movement to release her defensive stance
He approaches slowly before squatting in front of her.
“Look, I’m the first division commander of this ship. It’s fine. You’re in safe hands. And that guy you crashed into...”
He points at the big guy.
“That’s our captain. Edward Newgate, but most of us just call him Pops. He’s a real sweetheart. But he can be a bit of an intimidating when you first meet him.”
She sniffles, glancing at the man towering next to them and back to Marco, and then glances at Thatch and Ace behind her
Ace and Thatch smile, seeing her look at them.
“Don’t worry,” Ace says gently
“Pops, he’s not gonna hurt you either. No way.” Ace confirms
“Marco’s right. I know he may look intimidating, but he’s like a father to all of us; he would never hurt you,” Thatch says, backing his crewmates up
She glances back to Marco in front of her
He’s still smiling softly at her, not pushing her to come out of her defensive position.
“Do you want to come say hi to him?”
She nods, slowly unfurling herself
Marco gently grabs her hand, walking her right up to Whitebeard himself. He gently nudges her forward so she and the captain can meet each other.
She glances up at him, stretches her wing, and slowly flies up so that she is face-to-face with him
“..ny…mi…ter” she mumbles
He raises an eyebrow
“What was that?”
“You look funny, mister,” she mutters
Whitebeard laughs uproariously.
“Haha! Do I look funny? That is quite an interesting description, young lady. I mean, I suppose I look a bit weird but funny? You’re the only person to ever say that to me.” he snickers
“I like this one, bold one,” he says, glancing down at his sons
“And she’s pretty feisty, I can tell. Not too many kids can call Whitebeard funny,” Thatch adds in
“She’s one of a kind, that’s for sure,” Marco says, smiling at her
“She’s a clingy one, too,” Ace adds
This snaps her out of her shy, fear-filled state as she flies down and barrels into Ace
“Am not!”
Ace laughs, catching her.
“See, clingy!” he says teasingly.
“And a brat, can’t forget that,” Thatch scoffs.
Whitebeard laughs louder, amused by his crew’s responses
She hmph fluttering away from the pair and closer to the giant; she began buzzing around him
Whitebeard chuckles, amused by her playful behavior, as he begins playing with her, making her flutter around.
“Heh, you’re a real-spirited kid. Almost reminds me of a certain someone I know,” he says, looking over to Ace.
“Are you a dragon? You’re big like one.”
Whitebeard laughs at her question, amused by the comparison.
“No, I’m not a dragon. I’m a Human, just a very, very big one.”
“Do you know much about what a devil fruit is, kid?” he asks her
“Yeah! Mister Sabo told me about it! They give you these superb powers, right?”
Ace’s eyes widen
“Oi kid, come over here a sec.”
“Hmm?” They dive down towards the three men
“What?”
“Who did you say told you about a devil fruit?”
“Mister Sabo!”
Ace grins
“By any chance, did this Sabo tell you if he had a devil fruit?”
“Yeah! He said he had a Mera Mera fruit. I thought he was a dragon since he could make fire, but he said he wasn’t a dragon.” She pouts as she says this
“He just ate the Mera Mera and was a fireman! And it’s so funny, 'cause there was this grumpy guy called Dragon, and he wasn’t a dragon either! I was so sad,” she rambles on
Ace burst into laughter, igniting his hand on fire in a similar fashion Sabo had done back then
She looks at it and glances between the flame and Ace’s face a few times
“It’s you!”
Ace grins at her before extinguishing the flames on his hand
“It is me,” he says, confirming the little girl’s discovery
“Mister Sabo said you and him had the same mera mera fruit, which is never heard of!”
Ace nods
“Yup, that’s about right. Me and Sabo both ate a specific type of fruit known as the Mera Mera no Mi; I got really hurt a while ago, was gone for a minute there, which is why we think the mera mera appeared again, and he ate it, so now we both have it’s power” he said pointing to a big scar on his chest
“That’s so cool!” She squeals
“Ah! Are you okay? That looks like a pretty big scar!”
Ace chuckles
“I’m fine now; got seen by the best doctors to get a look at it; one of them is the guy behind you!”
She glances at Marco
“Mister Pineapple did?!”
Marco stills as her comment slight red tint growing on his face while Ace and Thatch start laughing uncontrollably; even Whitebeard lets out a snort at her exclamation
Marco sighs, shaking his head with a slight smile on his face
“Really are a little Rascal,” he mutters
“Yes, I helped patch him up a while back, used my devil fruit,” he said as his body ignited in flames
She gasps
“Did you also eat Mera Mera?”
Marco chuckles
“Not quite. I also ate a devil fruit, but unlike Sabo and Ace, I ate the Tori Tori no Mi.”
“Wah? There’s more than one type?”
“There are hundreds, if not thousands, of them. Each grants you a different power.”
“Superb! Mister Pops, what about you? What fruit did you eat?”
“Me? Well, I happen to have eaten the Gura Gura no Mi. It was a long time ago when I ate it, but it’s a very powerful one. It allows you to control earthquakes and vibrations.” Whitebeard explains with a smile on his face
“That's so cool,” they squeal
“It certainly is,” Whitebeard says, smiling.
“I can do all sorts of things with it, like this.”
He raises his hand, and a massive shockwave emanates from it, shaking the Moby Dick to its core. It even causes the little girl to fly backward into Ace’s arms.
The tiny child squeaks, her coordination being thrown off at the sudden movement
She takes a second to get her surroundings straight but marvels at Whitebeard’s display
“Haha, see what I meant? Pretty potent fruit, huh?” Whitebeard asks, seemingly pleased that the girl is so engaged by his abilities.
Ace takes this as a chance to play around with the little girl a bit, holding her and swinging her slightly as she lands in his arms.
“Ah, that reminds me, Reader, you hungry? I can prepare you something. Got you this in the meantime,” he says, throwing an apple her way
“Thank you! Here!” She says, coughing; the others look worried; their worried stares soon turn into something else as she coughs up some gold coins, offering them to Thatch
They just stare at it dumbfounded as she coughs up gold coins.
“What the hell?!” Thatch exclaims
“Watch your language around her,” Ace says, slapping the back of his head
“Why you…” he growls as they begin brawling
Reader flies above them, laughing at their interactions
“You have a wild family, Mister Pops”
Whitebeard sighs, chuckling at his son’s antics.
“Oh, you have no idea, girl,” he chuckles
Marco laughs quietly at the both of them,
“Settle down, boys,” he chides them, not moving to try and settle the argument between the two of them; as Reader continues laughing at the chaos unfolding, Whitebeard glances at her.
“Man… you’re gonna be a real handful for all of us, aren’t ya?” Whitebeard chuckles
I was intending this to be a real short one but then I couldn’t find a place to stop it without it being to sudden so I just kept going I found a place I could have cut it but then I was like nah, we need more.
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
#one piece x reader#one piece#one piece x child!reader#one piece fluff#one piece imagine#whitebeard pirates x reader#whitebeard one piece#whitebeard pirates#whitebeard pirates x child!reader#ace x child!reader#thatch x child!reader#marco the phoenix x reader#marco the phoenix#marco x child!reader#op whitebeard#whitebeard crew#whitebeard x reader#portgas d ace x child!reader#portgas ace x reader#portgas d ace x reader#ace x reader#edward newgate#thatch x reader#thatch#marco x reader#marco op#marco one piece#marco the pineapple#marco phoenix#portgas d ace
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Could you write for leah where leah amd reder have kids and its parents evening and one of the kids have bad reports.
Parents Evening
Leah Williamson x reader request
-> Leah and Reader attend a Parents Evening and there are a lot more tears than expected
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
“Abigail Lynn Williamson! What is this?”
And with that Leah knew that her calm evening was over. It was never fun for the twenty-eight-year-old to hear you, her wife, yell. Especially not at your eight-year-old daughter Abigail, who was currently cuddled up to the blonde’s chest, carefully watching her little brother crawl on the floor.
“What did you do?” The defender’s whisper was met with an even quieter “I don’t know Mama.” But the flushed cheeks and restless eyes trying to avoid looking into her mothers gave her away. Abby knew exactly what was up, and it didn’t take Leah long to figure it out either.
You had rounded the corner now, a crumpled piece of paper in your cramping fist – your face just as hot as your daughter's (at least she had gotten something from you). “I found this at the bottom of your bag, Missy.”
Your oldest child tried to hide herself in Leah’s side, who knew that that was not a good idea and pulled her out of it. “It’s not important Mommy. I promise!” By now Leah had stood up, and tried to take the paper from you – but your grip would not allow it. So instead, she maneuvered you to sit down on the arm-chair.
You had just entered the third trimester with your third child, and pregnancy was a bitch.
This was the last one, as you liked to remind your wife every evening. But she did not believe you. If she knew anyone who wanted a big family, it was you. And after you had Abby, you had also claimed, that she was the last one. Even though she was only the beginning.
“Nothing you say?” Abigail’s eyes were still fleeting from Leah’s, too scared to look at her mother, even though she knew that Leah could not be mad at her.
“Dear Parents, I would like to invite you to attend your daughter’s year 3 parents’ evening on Thursday second of November. The evening will run from 4.30 pm until 7.30 pm and will be a chance for you to meet your child’s teachers and discuss their progress, behaviors for learning, and attainment in each subject.”
If you had not been so mad, your wife would have laughed at the scared look on her daughter’s face. She was petrified. “Yeah but it's not-“
“Not mandatory? No, it is not. But a bright pink sticky note says ‘Dear Mrs. and Mrs. Williamson, please attend the evening – I would like to have a word with you. Yours faithfully, D. Halliwell”
Abigail tried to ignore your stare by sliding off the couch onto the floor, trying to motivate her three-year-old brother, Noah, to play with her. But the young boy was tired and just wanted to look at the pretty pictures in his book.
After successfully having Abigail through IVF, the next attempts had failed, and for four long years, Leah and you had struggled to get pregnant again. While the process was grueling, you were so incredibly happy to have Noah with you, and both Leah and you had learned a lot through the process.
“So what baby – It’s a parent's evening, not the end of the world. What’s up?” Your ever-so-loving wife had moved behind you, massaging your tense shoulders, trying to calm you down – anxious for you and the baby. “The second of November Leah.”
But nothing clicked in the blonde’s head. “That is today. Baby. And it starts at four-thirty. That is in an hour.” Now the footballer understood. The problem was not that there was a parent’s evening, or that Abby had ‘forgotten’ about it but the fact that it was today.
Tears started to well up in the eight-year-olds eyes, pulling yours out as well. You were already an emotional person, but seeing your baby cry? The end of the world – not that the pregnancy and its hormones were any help at all.
“I’m sorry Mommy.” A now crying Abigail climbed on your lap, pressing her wet face into the crook of your neck, sobbing.
Leah's heart broke at the sight, but instead of getting involved, knowing that the two of you needed to talk, she took Noah and made her way to the kitchen. “Please don’t hate me, Mommy.”
“Oh, Baby. I could never hate you. I am not mad, okay? I just want you to tell me things like this – and lying about it does not make it better. Do you understand?” You gently wiped away her tears as the small blonde sniffled a small “Yes, Mommy.”
Your wife had re-entered the room a nearly asleep Noah on her hip, her phone in hand. “Beth and Viv are going to pick them up in a couple of minutes, go on up Abby – pack your bag.” After pressing one last, very wet, kiss to your cheek your daughter hurried upstairs to pack her overnight bag, excited that she got to stay with her favorite aunties for the night. “Lee, I’m a mess. I look-“
“Beautiful.” The defender pulled you up by your hands, eyes fleeting to the baby bump. “I’m gonna get them two ready, while you’ll get yourself ready, yeah? Don’t hurry, we have enough time as long as we are there by half six. Go take a bath baby.”
Before you reached the stairs, your wife pulled you back by the hips for a quick kiss – but after she pulled away ending the kiss, she quickly doubled down – into a bruising heavy kiss. “Alright, up ya go.” The blonde’s voice was hoarse as she gasped for air, a cocky smirk on her face.
By five you had said goodbye to the kids, promising Beth and Viv that you would bring breakfast to pick them up. The couple was over the moon, happy to take in their favorite arsenal kids, even on such short notice.
Both Leah and you were dressed to impress – your wife in a nice beige suit and you in one of your favorite winter dresses. Occasions like this were still scary so you wanted to make good impressions. It was nerve-wracking that you did not know why your presence was requested, but even with Abby in year three you still did not know if the teaching staff was completely fine with both you and Leah as a married couple and mothers.
The fear of homophobia is still at large.
During the drive Leah tried to calm you down, drawing shapes and hearts onto your thighs – but you were still tense. And that did not change. Not after you had been greeted at the door and escorted to Abigail’s classroom by a prefect.
“Mrs. and Mrs. Williamson, nice to see you again!” Mrs. Halliwell greeted both of you with a firm handshake and a tense smile on her lips. Leah, being the best wife ever, pulled out one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk for you, gesturing to sit down. She took the seat next to you and her hand quickly found yours under the table.
“I am glad to see that the invitation for this evening has made its way to you.” Blue eyes met yours, as Lee looked at you, remembering what had happened not too long ago. “Regardless I am afraid that I do not have much good news for you.”
There it was. The panic that had been boiling up deep inside of you.
Both you and your wife were preparing for the worst, whatever it may be.
“Abigail does not have the best marks in most subjects. Except for physical education.” Mrs. Halliwell threw a quick glance at Leah, who was obviously the athlete in the relationship.
You knew that Abby’s marks were not the greatest, but you were working on it, helping with homework and various projects. You had even gotten a tutor for math, the subject she felt the most insecure about – and it was her idea.
“She cannot pay attention to things longer than ten minutes, always playing around with toys or drawing. Her behavior is poor at best. She does not listen to a word I say, always thinking about something else. Things must change.”
There was a feeling in your stomach that you did not like – you hated it. The nagging voice of the teacher nearly made you doze off, you could not even imagine having to sit through it for hours like your poor daughter did.
But the disgust Mrs. Halliwell held in her voice when she talked about Abigail made you tear up. Sweet little Abby, who could listen to you read to her for hours, being able to recite every single one you had made up for her as she wrote them down in a storybook, just for the two of you. She even drew pictures alongside it, wanting to share them with her brother Noah, and her unborn sibling.
Sweet Abigail, who would hang on to Leah’s and her teammates ’ lips, desperate for every bit of footballing information she could get. But apparently, the teacher knew a different side of Abigail, one you did not.
“Do you have anything nice to say about or daughter?” Leah was getting angry as well, her grip on your hand tightening as her jaw clenched.
Mrs. Halliwell drew in a sharp breath as she filled through her papers “She is very opinionated and does not let anyone talk over her. Abigail is a great leader as she takes charge of the football team.” What sounded like a compliment, felt like a punch to the face as she called your daughter bossy. Not a single word that left her lips was said with joy, dislike lacing every word.
Leah could feel your anger radiating off you and she knew that she had to intervene “So what can we do to better things?” The woman whom you had thought of as ‘nice’ got uglier in character the longer you looked at her. Pursed, chapped lips, dry eyes with thin damaged hair – she looked tired. “As long as she doesn’t change, I don’t see any way she could improve.”
Change.
She wanted your daughter to change, instead of helping her as she was. “Change in what way?” Leah was more composed than you, used to watchful eyes and judgment. “She needs to calm down and stop talking every chance she gets – Abigail needs to pay attention. But personally, I think that it is hopeless.”
Boom. There it was.
It was over and Leah knew it, letting go of your hand as you stood up, a hand pressed to your tummy. “Excuse me? Hopeless? You are talking about an eight-year-old girl. Someone who is dependent on you, to learn. If you teach the way that you talk to us, I can understand why she does not pay attention.”
You were in full mother-bear mode, protective of your young. And while Leah was angry as well, she needed to control the situation.
And her thoughts, as she could not help but find it incredibly hot how angry and protective you got, about your child, hers in your tummy.
“Where are her things?” The stunned Mrs. Halliwell just stared at you as you, as you stood in front of her – steam practically pouring out of your ears. She pointed over to one of the desks. Of course, it was the messiest in the room, Leah’s genes coming through strong.
Your wife understood clearly, gathering all of Abby’s things from the table, as well as from her drawer in the class cupboard. “We will be going now – and you will hear from us. Have a nice evening Mrs. Halliwell.” With that you stormed out, Leah hot on your heels with Abby’s arts and crafts in her hands as the door slammed shut behind the both of you.
You held it together until you entered the car, tears escaping you in streams. “Did you hear how she talked about our daughter?” With a coo, Leah pulled you into her chest. A gentle hand stroking your hair, trying to calm you down. “I know darling.” More sobs shook your body, reminding her of how Abby had cried earlier in the day. “She was so mean to my baby, Lee!”
You both had decided to pick Abby up from the Miedema-Mead house, wanting to talk to her alone, in need of a bit of quality time with her.
Viv pulled you into a deep hug with Noah in her arms, who really wanted to stay the night at their house. The Dutch had no idea what happened, but she could see your need for stability. Beth and Leah were leaning against your family car, the defender explaining what happened quietly to her friend whose eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “Is that teacher still alive or did Momma over there get to her first?”
Abigail was quiet in the car, afraid that she was in trouble. You had given up your seat in the front, opting to sit next to the girl, holding her hand in yours.
Back at home, Leah had led everyone into your bedroom, helping you up into the high bed, your bump slightly in the way. “Are you okay baby?” You knew that the question was for the both of you, as the eight-year-old cuddled up between the two of you “Yeah, I’m fine Mama. How are you?”
And there they were again. Those annoying tears. Sweet little Abigail who was so considerate of her Mom’s feelings.
“I’m fine, thank you, baby. We wanted to talk to you about something. Is that okay?” The smaller blonde nodded, fear taking over her eyes as well. “Sorry ‘bout my marks – I’ll get better. I promise” Her little voice was muffled by Leah’s shirt that she was burrowing herself in. All three of you had changed into warm, matching pajamas as soon as you had gotten home.
“Don’t worry about them, darling.” Surprised eyes met yours as you pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Do you like Mrs. Halliwell, baby?” The instant mean face that she pulled, looked exactly like your wife’s when she was in a bad mood – answering your question without words. “That’s okay, Darl. Why don’t you like her?”
“She is so boring and she can’t explain things – I don’t understand anything. She doesn’t answer my questions and she doesn’t let me read when she asks for volunteers. I know how to read! Better than Ben, and she chooses him every time.” Her angry rambling reminded Leah of you when the book you read does not end the way you want it to. “And she doesn’t let me draw when I am finished with my questions, she yells at me a lot. And she, she jus-“ Abigail couldn’t continue, sobs wrecking her tiny body and eventually yours.
You were a terrible mother; how did you not notice? Even big and strong Leah was close to tears, watching some of the most important people of her life cry, kissing both her girls on the cheek. “Kay baby. Ya need to answer a question for us, okay? Think about it for a sec.” You held your breath as Leah asked her mini-me: “Do you want to leave Mrs. Halliwell’s class?”
The nod did not even come a second later. “Just her class or the school? Mommy and I can homeschool you til the next year starts. We can find ya a nice new school?”
“Yes please, Mama.” It was heartbreaking to see this little girl ready to give up her school because of a teacher. The principal would hear of this, and you would make sure of it.
“Please tell us if something makes you sad okay baby? We can try to fix it, but only if we know what’s up.” Abby had her smile back, as she nodded at you – imitating her mother, placing slobbery kisses all over your face, making you giggle.
Leah could barely contain her joy. Her girls back laughing again – and with Abby homeschooled she would not need to dry your tears every morning when the small blonde left the house.
“Do you have a wish baby? Your birthday is coming up.” She thought hard. Much harder than she had when deciding if she wanted to leave school – “A baby sister please.”
Both Leah and you were stunned.
A baby sister.
You had not told anybody the gender of the new baby yet – but it was safe to say, that Abby would get what she wanted. Her birthday would be a complete success.
#woso x reader#woso imagine#arsenal wfc x reader#woso#engwnt x reader#woso imagines#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson#lionesses x reader
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Feral Masterlist
Joel Miller x Feral Reader/OFC
(You’ve all lovingly named this character Feral Reader, but she’s referenced as Starshine or Red sometimes in the stories.)
Warning: Explicit Content, Graphic Violence, Trauma, PTSD
(Put in order of story timeline)
Monsters
Two-Shot | (18+ Minors DNI) | 3rd POV | AO3
Part 1 | Part 2
Honey
One-Shot | (18+ Minors DNI) | 3rd POV | AO3
The first time there was an excuse, the second time was just about release after a hard day.
Be Still Drabble | 3rd POV | AO3
It takes her a while to notice. Joel is having a panic attack.
Bitter
Two-Shot | 3rd POV | AO3
Joel makes a decision for all of them when they finally find Tommy in Jackson.
Part 1 | Part 2
Violent Delights
One-Shot | 3rd POV | AO3
With Joel injured and Ellie captured, she has to make a choice.
Violent Ends
One-Shot | 3rd POV | AO3
They find the Fireflies and one by one, the lights go out.
Crossword
Snippet | 3rd POV | AO3
It’s the first time their group has been split up and Joel definitely isn’t waiting for you at the gates.
Daisies
Drabble | 3rd POV | AO3
The women of Jackson have their eyes set on Joel Miller.
Beast
One-Shot | 18+ Minors DNI for Graphic Violence | 3rd POV | AO3
All she can see is that he’s hurt and she would tear them apart.
Left Behind
One-Shot | 3rd POV | AO3
Settling into life in Jackson wasn't going so easily and Joel is hit with the possibility she may not be welcomed to stay.
Territorial
One-Shot | 3rd POV | AO3
She never paid attention to the newcomers when they joined Jackson until one of them begins to get close to Joel.
Dominant
One-Shot | 3rd POV | AO3
Jealousy and rationality don’t mix.
Hero Worship
Drabble | 3rd POV
Ellie has a little admirer
Your Bury Me
One-Shot | 3rd POV | AO3
A failed trade, a dress, music, and their own form of confession.
Mine
Drabble | 3rd POV
He doesn’t like other’s attention on her
Drabbles:
Reckless: Ellie gets mad at her for being too careless with herself
Red’s Personality
***Red Integrating Into Jackson Headcanons
***Red and Joel Headcanons
Does Red ever try singing again?
***Tommy x Red Headcanons
Tommy after the punch
***Ellie x Red Headcanons
***Joel falling for Red Headcanons
Red is Ellie’s Mom
Gifts from the Barn Cat
The Morning After Bitter Part 2
Joel’s Nightmares
***Moments in Domesticity Headcanons
***Ellie and Red arguement Headcanons
Asks
Where does Red met them in the timeline?
TLOU Part 2 Question
Sunshine Bestie
Red and cheating scenario
Romance and Connections
Red and Pregnancies
Maria and Red’s relationship
Ellie’s Adjustment
Maria standing up for Red
Reds Triggers
Red & the baby (More)
When Reds Sick
Annie’s Birthday
Joel Calming Red Down
Red’s Trinkets
________________________________
If you would like to be added to a taglist for this series, please reply to this post!
Taglist:
@alouise20 @faceache111 @hawsx3 @taxidriversainz @iluvbunnyhops @mrfitzdarcyslover @emlovesya @agent007knight @spaacerabbit @namgification @wonwoosthetic @wxnderingthoughts @sagggy @escaping-reality8 @badwolf00593 @themothersmercy @badwolf00593 @mxtokko @happinessinthebeing @taranicristeard @aroacefanenby @barbellpedro @maviee @sgt-morgan @peppesgirl @spideysimpossiblegirl @hreader7 @jackierose902109
#tlou#the last of us#raicodoll writes#writing masterlist#tlou fanfic#the last of us fanfic#fic: monsters#anon asks#series: feral#feral reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x feral reader#joel miller fanfic#ellie williams#prompt requests
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Heyyy, give me something angsty with Felix please🥰 like maybe she comes home really tired and he’s just mad about everything small and calls her clingy🙀 and they go to bed angry (really bad idea btw never do that‼️) and then in the morning she tries to avoid him bc she doesn’t want to seem clingy? Happy ending tho, I can’t take too much heartbreak🩵
By my side.
Warnings: Yelling and crying.
Paring: Felix x Reader.
This is my first Felix story and I messed it up lol. Anyways. Enjoy 🩷
**
Y/n slowly removed her shoes at the door trying not to make a sound. Her body was aching and she was extremely exhausted. She moved like a sloth as she put away everything; her coat, her bag, etc.
When she heard the sound of banging dishes she knew her boyfriend, Felix, was home from his schedules.
Never in her life did she ever think she would be so irritated by his presence. She thought she would come home to a quiet house, she really wanted to be alone since work was so tiring.
"Oh! Hey my love," Felix face lit up when he saw his girlfriend walk through the living room. He quickly hurried around the counter to give her a kiss in which she returned.
"Heyy," she said trying to be as energetic as him but completely failed. Her chest was tight and all she wanted to do was cry.
"What's the matter?" He frowned when he noticed her little pout, "how was work?"
His hands automatically land on her waist trying to sooth the not's on her back. He cringed at how stiff she was and automatically knew she wasn't in a good mood.
"Can I have some alone time babe," she shrugged his hands off and started to make her way to their room.
"Did something happen?" Felix frowned as he quickly followed behind. She let out a frustrated sigh seeing he was still going on. He heard the sigh and was a little hurt by it but decided to push it to the side and make sure she was okay. That was what mattered right now.
"Nothing, I just want to be alone Lix-"
"I made us brownies! We can eat it with ice cream and chocolate-"
"Felix! For the love of God I said it's enough! Leave me alone. You're being clingy." She screamed and slammed the bathroom door in his face. He quickly took a step back in disbelief. He was hurt and it was so obvious.
His heart ached. He didn't know what to do but stand there hearing her soft sobs. Should he say something? Should he wait outside? Should he leave?
He was overthinking it. His hands were shaking and tears filled his eyes. She never yelled at him. Never did she even try to tell him off. This was all new to him. Was she getting tired of him? He thought.
Meanwhile on the other side, Y/n's tears were streaming down her face. She felt disgusted and guilty. Felix didn't deserve any of that. She knew it, he was just trying to help.
How could she let a miserable day at work affect her home life? Her relationship? Her thoughts became foggy as she sat there. All she could do was cry and so she cried until she finally fell asleep on the cold, hard tiles.
**
The frantic knocks on the door were what woke her up. Her head was banging and she was freezing. She looked over at her phone and saw it had been an hour and a few minutes. All she could hear was Felix's voice in distress calling out for her.
He sounded weak, worried and tired. What had she done? She quickly got off the floor and opened the door to see what was going on.
When the door opened Felix pulled her into his arms. He was so scared that she might have passed out or did something to herself since she had been locked in for an hour.
"Are you okay my love? Don't ever do that again to me! I was so scared something might have happened," he told her off but still managed to keep her in his arms.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you," she whispered, "I know you were just looking out for me and you were worried. I love you babe," she tightened her grip around his waist as she hid her tears.
"Hey, look at me," he slowly put his finger under her chin. "We all have bad days, I know you didn't mean any of it. Okay?" She nodded, "stop crying my love, you need to talk to me and don't shut me out. Please?"
"I don't know what I would do without you," she whimpered.
"Well first off, you wouldn't be able to reach the top shelves..." he trailed off and smiled at her little laugh. He loved her laugh. Her laugh made him feel warm and happy. All he wanted was for her to be happy.
"You're so silly-"
"Yeah but you love it," he pecked her lips and helped wipe her tears, "should we go cuddle and eat the brownies now?"
"Yes please, I was actually craving them when I was in there,"
"My poor baby, go lay down and I'll be back in a bit," he let go of her and made his way to the kitchen where he got busy.
Y/n sat in their cozy bed trying to figure out how she would explain to Felix what was going on and she knew he was not going to let it go unless she told him and so she did.
#skz imagines#skz comfort#skz x reader#skz angst#skz fluff#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz stay#bangchansgfblog#felix fluff#felix x reader#felix x y/n#stray kids felix#lee felix
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⋆୨ chapter three ୧˚ for a while, you were all mine
⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter two - a million miles away, still you connect me in your way <> next: chapter four - behind a box of reasons why ୧˚
⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?
ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 6.3k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, third parties, yn and sae finally sharing one bed | notes: eeep this was long i’m sorry !! more of the other girl here heh ^_< also mwah thank you to all of you who’s reading ily !! <3
In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t right of you to go through your husband’s stuff. Maybe you should’ve just looked at that little black box and left it there and continue to be ignorant.
But no. In this world, you’re nosy and greedy and you wanted to know who exactly it is that Itoshi Sae of all people can’t get over and now you have exactly what you were looking for.
After extensive research—and by research you mean scrolling through your husband’s social media (all of them), you managed to find her tagged in a post buried way below on his Facebook wall. Silver lining is: there’s nothing recent. The bad part? Judging by the date, they’ve known each other for a long time.
Apparently her name is Mirin, and her family’s made up of a whole slew of top lawyers in the whole of Japan. There’s not a lot on her Facebook, but her Instagram is a whole other story. Her posts the last few years put her somewhere in Europe, and judging by the content, she’s been studying there for a while. But before that, back when the posts were all in Japan, you catch a few photos of Sae. Some of them have Oliver and Eita, and a couple of other guys you haven’t met before.
It’s really wrong of you to do this, only because you know you’re just setting yourself up for a world of paranoia, but you can’t stop. You move over to the pictures she’s tagged in, and there’s one from Oliver that catches your attention.
Because it’s dated a few weeks back.
The first of two photos show Oliver, Eita, Sae and the same guy you saw back in Mirin’s feed—the one with jet black spiky hair. They’re in a bar, you presume, sitting around a private booth with a ton of alcohol in the ice bucket on the table. You recognise his attire; it’s from the very first night Sae bothered to sit down at the dining table and eat with you.
The second makes your heart crash to the floor. In the photo, in Sae’s place is Mirin herself, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a skin-tight red dress that you wouldn’t ever think of wearing. (One, because it’s much too revealing for your own taste, and two, well, just because you’re more of an oversized t-shirt kind of girl.)
All you can take away from what you saw is that Mirin is now back in Japan. Coupled with the fact that Sae had been gone even though he was off from work for those first few days of your marriage, you deduce what you wish isn’t true—was he meeting up with her all this time? Even
Trying to avoid falling into utter madness, you grab your phone and text your ever-trusty best friend.
Reo, meet you at our usual. ASAP!!!
Just as you’re about to leave the house, Sae gets back from wherever he’s been (which now you can’t help but wonder whether he was meeting Mirin), and you run right into his chest.
“Careful, busy?” Sae asks, which is more than Sae usually does and you realise just how low the bar is set right now.
Still, you answer him like you always do. “Yeah I’m gonna meet Reo for a bit,” you tell him, biting back a snarky comment about Mirin.
Even with those doubts of Sae in your head, you can’t help but stop to appreciate how he hands you your keys from the key hanger before you forget, or how his other hand is gripping onto yours, warm and just slightly calloused. It’s the first time you’ve felt them since that day at your own wedding.
“Take your time, I’ll handle our dinner tonight,” he tells you, and you think that’s already a lot considering that he’s never really bothered with anything the past few weeks, but then you feel a soft sensation against your forehead—very brief, so unfamiliar, way too soft—and then it’s gone in just a second and it’s way too quick that it has you doubting its existence at all.
All you hear is a soft “see you” before the door shuts behind you, and then there’s only the erratic beating of your heart that fills your ears.
“Yikes.”
“Very helpful, thanks,” you sigh exasperatedly as you plop down onto the cushioned seat across from Reo.
Reo laughs, handing you your phone back, open to Oliver’s Instagram account. “Then ask for a divorce, I’m sure he’d happily oblige if all of that’s true.”
“You know why I can’t, Reo,” you remind him, close to giving up.
Reo nods, remembering about your parents and deciding not to make matters worse. “Did you ask him about it though?”
You frown, glaring up at your best friend who’s now happily sipping on his cold brew. “And let him guess that I was stalking his ex? Sure I did.”
Reo snorts at your sarcasm. He thinks it’s funny how you’re oddly meek in front of Sae, and yet you’re snappish around him. Comes with the many years of being best friends, he supposes. But on that note, “you think there’s something going on between them?”
For the first time, Reo sees you helpless, eyes staring into nothing, index finger idly tracing circles on the polished wooden surface. “I don’t know,” because all you know is that you’re already exhausted from overthinking all the things they could be doing behind your back. “But… he’s always away and he says it’s work when I know it’s not. And she’s back and they were at the same place and urgh, I don’t know what to do.”
By that last line, you’re already burying your head in your hands, slumped against the table, Reo watching on as you grumble in frustration. He chuckles, gently patting your head before you look up at him, “what if they’re just friends right now?”
“It’s still weird, isn’t it? I mean… from the looks of it, they were pretty serious at one point.” Your words are all muffled because you’re pretty sure this is you being jealous now—thanks to Sae considerably warming up to you (be it at his own sluggish pace), it’s hard not to feel anything for him. In a way, you’re learning to like a lot about him, but there’s this unshakeable doubt you can’t brush off in the form of his ex.
Reo leans back against his chair now, pondering out loud. “Hmm I wonder what that reminds me of.”
In a second, you know all too well what he’s referring to, and you find yourself unable to look him in the eye. “That’s… different. We didn’t act on it.”
He rests his elbow on the table, head resting against his fist, “yeah but… we were still each other’s first kiss, right?”
“But we didn’t amount to anything.”
“Except that we’re best friends now,” Reo tells you, and you know he’s trying to get a point across but you’re not sure you want to understand it.
“And that’s all we ever were, Reo.”
Smiling, Reo leans forward a little, cautious at keeping his voice down. It won’t do if people misunderstand and word gets around. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but you were all I wanted at one point. For more than just that one day under the cherry blossoms, more than that one time I stole your first kiss.”
It stuns you a little to hear it, because any romantic emotions between the two of you were never said or shared. Both you and Reo knew back then that your parents wouldn’t ever be in favour of him and his rebelliousness that you both just decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. At that time, when you were both foolish kids, having that something intangible was enough. Maybe it faded for you faster than it had for Reo, but he knew that it once existed. Even if only for a second.
“And?”
You’ve gone soft now, and Reo knows you understand. You’re just in denial.
“Are you sure Sae would feel the same if he knew about it? If he knew I used to love you too?” Reo asks you, genuinely wondering for himself.
You’re about to argue that Sae doesn’t even care, but putting yourself into his shoes, you get where Reo’s coming from. History is history. No matter how long ago it was or how short the relationship (or lack of one) was, the feelings still existed, once upon a time.
Still, you have a feeling that there’s more than meets the eye. Especially if Sae has to hide it all the time. He’s never even said her name to you, if they met at all.
“Anyway look, do you want me to try asking Oliver about it? I’ll be discreet, though I can’t really say the same for that knucklehead,” Reo warns you. It’s not like he knows Oliver much outside of any business dealings, but he can tell that much at least.
You shake your head anyway, knowing it’s a bad idea. For all you know, Sae would just lash out at you for prying into his business when you’re just his on-paper wife.
“Wonder why they broke up though,” you think out loud, watching the liquid in your cup swish around, close to spilling off the edge as you swirl it with your hand, almost completely lost in thought.
Reo answers you without missing a beat. “She went abroad to study and just called it off thinking it wouldn’t work.” His eyes go wide the moment your head shoots up, and he winces after letting it slip.
“You knew?”
“Yeah…”
“What the- how?” Because it’s incredulous how Reo happens to know that much more about the relationship.
He sighs, fessing up. “I was asking around about Sae remember? When I told you he’s just a tough nut to—”
“Yeah yeah,” you wave it off, wanting him to get to the point.
“Well, Oliver’s kinda a blabbermouth so…” Reo sighs, as if he senses there’s no point in keeping it in, not when you’re already halfway into that rabbit hole yourself.
And you’re all ears. Half because you really just want to learn more about it and the other half just wanting confirmation that you’re not crazy for overthinking about this. But then Reo tells you and you’re not sure anymore.
“He said Sae was never over her, loved her to bits.” Reo pauses, hesitating before he opens his mouth again. “He said Sae was waiting for her to get back before starting things up again.”
Oh.
SEVEN YEARS AGO.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
Surely it wasn’t a stretch to be furious that distance would be enough of a reason for a breakup? Surely Sae didn’t have to think himself crazy for refuting such an idea?
Mirin’s hair flowed in the wind, pretty as it always was, and it would be even prettier in his memories. She looked unsure, and he knew it too. He knew her like the back of his hand, down to the injury on his ankle. She was only doing what she thought was right, and that was offering each of their own freedom, though Sae had no single doubt in his mind that that wasn’t what he wanted.
“Sae, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” she told him, her eyes swimming with tears that she wouldn’t allow to overflow.
Always so stubborn, and forever thinking less of herself. That was how he knew her to be. And as much as he hated that stubbornness at that moment, he loved her just as much.
With a hand reaching out to her, he pulled her to him, letting her rest her head in his chest, something that he savoured because it wouldn’t be long until she’ll be gone for who knows how long.
“Is it selfish of me to say I don’t want to break up with you?” Sae was asking her, genuinely. He didn’t know how to handle this—when life held different paths for two people in love, wasn’t it just common sense that they could still tread it and yet be together? Was long distance really the end of everything they had?
Mirin sniffled just a little before she pulled away and forced herself to smile, something that Sae hated. It was always the fake ones that irked him, even now.
“Is it selfish for me to think that we’re supposed to?”
Maybe he didn’t know the answer. But all he knew was that if she still felt like they should, then he’d concede. He was always weak when it came to her. It was always the same. He couldn’t imagine being weak to anyone else. It was her. Only her.
“Fine, we’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he told her, a tone so gentle that no one but her has ever heard. But he drew close, tipping her chin up so she would look at him, his teal eyes appreciating every inch of her beautiful face, the most beautiful one he had ever seen, and the most beautiful one he thought he would ever see. “But you know something?”
Mirin swallowed the lump in her throat, the amount of love she felt threatening to swallow her whole. “What?”
Sae let out a deep chuckle, a soft one before he pressed his lips against hers, a promise laid between their lips like it was a secret only they both would keep.
“Nothing would stop me from waiting for you to come back. So come back to me, okay? Come back, I’ll wait for you.”
That night when you get home, you feel just slightly numb. After hearing what you did, it’s no surprise. You’ve always been kind of weak when it comes to feelings. You’re more heart over mind and you’d choose your heart over and over again even if you had no more blood left to bleed.
You think you’re never getting over it until you walk in and realise that Sae’s in the kitchen, setting your dinner down on the table. It’s like your tears automatically dissipate once you look into his eyes.
“Oh, just nice,” is all he mumbles before he sits down at his place on the entirely too-big dining table for the two of you.
Across from him, you sit down as you look at the spread before you. A steak on each of your plates, potato puree at the side. In the middle there’s assorted sides of mushrooms, corn kernels and what you assume to be a tray of sauces for the meat.
“Did you cook all of these?” You ask, almost breathless. You’re about to say he’s a much better cook than you are, until Sae speaks up.
“No.” He seems nearly unwilling to answer you, a delicate frown on his face. “Accidentally burnt the pans when I tried to cook.”
“Huh?” You spin your head around to find the sink filled with all your pans, and from the looks of it, Sae had been trying to scrub the burnt portions off unsuccessfully.
“We need to buy new pans.”
Sae says this all too monotonously, like he’s half-robot and half completely embarrassed, that you can’t help but laugh out loud. Besides, it’s kind of cute that there’s a faint pink on his cheeks. You’ve never seen that before.
He looks at you incredulously, like he wasn’t expecting you to laugh at him like he’s a damn clown. Flinging a mushroom at you with his fork, he rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans.
Pouting at him mockingly, you decide to tease him a little more. “You didn’t touch anything else in the house and ruin them, did you?”
And you were joking, until you realise Sae’s averting his gaze, stuffing his mouth full with corn kernels.
“Sae!”
“We might need to get new stuff for the laundry room too,” he confesses, talking with his mouth full. (Spoiler: you find out later that he put the wrong detergents in the washer and accidentally flooded the laundry room.)
Still, you think it’s sort of endearing that he tried to do the chores while you were the one out for a change, so you stop yourself from making fun of him too much. It’s not like whatever you learned earlier isn’t still sitting in the back of your head (because a part of you wonders if he’s doing all this out of guilt), but some part of you wants to be selfish and let yourself feel special, even if it’s delusional, at least for a little bit.
You want to feel like the wife he misses when you’re not around, like the person he would think of when his mind strays. Is this all too much to ask?
Maybe you just can’t help yourself, so you bring yourself to ask: “Sae, why did you agree to this?”
There’s a pregnant pause in the room, the only sounds filling the silence being the stainless steel cutlery hitting the plates as Sae adjusts himself. “Why did you?”
You suppose that maybe it’ll be easier for him to share if you start first, so you bite the bait. “Long story but… if I don’t then it’ll fall to my sister and she’s happy with someone else.” You swallow the meat in your mouth, the fat rendered so well it makes you crave for more. “I don’t want her to have to sacrifice that. Our parents aren’t exactly the nicest people in the world.”
Sae listens to you, an understanding settling in his chest. He could laugh from the coincidence of it all. “Same, but for my brother,” he tells you, prodding at his steak. “And he’s happy with soccer, not some girl. Can’t get a girl to save his life.”
Somehow, you can hear the quiet fondness that he has for Rin that makes you believe he’s a good brother.
“Would a marriage affect his career all that much?”
There’s a certain complexity behind Sae’s expression when you ask that question, something that you can’t decipher. But he scoffs, “let’s just say, my parents aren’t the nicest people either. I would know.”
And something tells you that it’s not something you want to ask yet, so you let his answer sit with you.
“Oh, speaking of parents,” Sae brings up his phone, switching the subject and handing it over to you. It’s a string of texts between him and his mother, apparently. You hold it up to your face, reading through and it appears they’d gotten you both tickets. “Mine got us both tickets, so.”
As you scroll, a grin appears on your face as you look at him. “Honeymoon tickets to Korea?” You’re almost squealing. It’s been a long while since you’ve last had a vacation, and ten days of distraction sounds really nice after all the information you’d just learned today.
Sae rolls his eyes, though you don’t miss the slight tug upwards at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, so get packing, we leave in two days.”
And as excited as you are, you feel a vibration and the brief flash of ‘dummy’ messaging him, the only part of the preview that you can see being: no, take me with you :(
You’re pretty sure it vibrates some more but by then, you’re already handing the phone back and Sae just locks his phone without bothering. Shaking your head, you try to stuff that image back to the deepest crevices of your mind, determined to not let it ruin your mood for your getaway.
Ex lover or not, Sae is still your husband and it’s not like he hates this (by the looks of things, it’s only been getting better and better), so you’re still hell bent on making things work.
Two days fly by way too quickly.
The day after Sae tells you about the trip, you immediately get to work at packing. Ten days is not a short trip and you plan to make full use of it, and for that, you have to be ready.
You had spent the whole day buying anything you would need—travel-friendly items and whatnot—while commuting back home to your parents’ house (at a timing you know they’re at work, of course!) to take anything you might’ve left there that you needed. Just as you left the house, nostalgia took over as you looked around at the place where you grew up.
It’s strange. People say to cherish what time you have with your parents, that one day you’re going to move out and you’re going to miss it.
You don’t feel like that’s necessarily true, because you’re living proof. The only thing you’d miss is your sister and you still talk to her everyday. Meanwhile, the only times your mother or father ever talks to you is to ask you about your marriage and warning you not to annoy Sae too much, as though it was a given and that it shouldn’t be the other way around.
Maybe it doesn’t make much sense; you and Sae (or maybe just you) trying to be a family when you both have no idea what a proper family is like. Even if it is just on paper.
Now you’re on a town car to the airport and you’re fiddling with your passport in your hands, staring out the window like a little child that’s going overseas for the first time. (Next to you, Sae’s thinking the exact same thing—you do look so much like an excited child. Or maybe a puppy.)
Of course, Sae’s parents waste no expenses in gifting you two first-class seats. Not that you’ve never been in first class, but it’s nice to be next to Sae, and you catch yourself, realising just how quickly you’re catching feelings.
“What?” Sae’s just getting ready to turn his phone to flight-safe mode when he catches you staring, a hint of smugness forming inside of him.
Even with a small partition separating your seats, you can see his teal eyes staring at you, long lashes fluttering in all its glory. Instead of offering an answer, you just shake your head and lean back, busying yourself by adjusting the screen in front of you.
Being in a state of denial is easy; it’s actually fun to sit in first class next to Sae, on a three-hour flight to your honeymoon, annoying him each chance you get, earning yourself a death stare every instant before laughing yourself silly when he flips off at you. It’s been a few weeks, but you think you’ve grown accustomed to what Sae is like that you know his middle fingers to you are never meant to be taken seriously and his silence is just how he is when he isn’t fully opened up. It nearly makes you think you’re crazy for doubting him and yet you don’t have the balls to question him about any of that. Not yet, because you’re not ready for this to end (if it will).
The itinerary had already been planned out by Sae’s mother, but it wasn’t like either of you wanted to follow it. One, Sae likes to do things spontaneously anyway and two, well, you have a feeling that he might want to treat this like a solo trip. It’s not like either of you have properly been husband and wife much to have a proper honeymoon together.
So count you surprised when you suggested that you both try to do solo trips around the city and just meet up for dinner, only to have Sae agree and yet follow you wherever you decide to go that first day.
At first, you were just wondering whether he had the same plans, but after he followed you into a Sephora looking absolutely clueless and then getting all flustered and sticking to you the moment the staff there asked him if he wanted to do a skin test, you allow yourself to think that he’s actually tagging along with you.
“What are you doing?” You decide to ask after exiting another store, carrying no less than five bags thanks to your anxiety of asking Sae what he’s up to.
On his part, he merely shrugs and looks away, hands in his coat pocket, looking absolutely like a model out of a magazine. Sometimes you wonder if he’s really yours. On paper, at least.
“This is our honeymoon, right? Makes sense that we’re together.” That’s all the explanation Sae offers, his gaze hovering over the bags you’re carrying, before he leans closer. “Besides, you’re my wife,” he says, gently grabbing your bags and carrying it for you.
He doesn’t say that it’s just on paper this time. And you can’t help but read into it. It’s perplexing how easily his words can affect you. It has your heart doing somersaults and your lips nervously pursing together.
“So, where next?” He prompts, looking at you expectantly.
And maybe you’re a little too excited for this pleasant turn of events that you’re grinning from ear to ear as you stare at him. “Wait, really?”
You can’t even hide the glee in your voice and Sae, for the first time, smiles—even if he’s doing it as he rolls his eyes at you.
“Yes, stupid,” he tells you, chuckling as you hop slightly in excited. “Are we going or are you just gonna stand here like a little puppy?”
With excited nods and a little squeal, you clap your hands together before daring to put your fingers around his wrist, dragging him with you.
Sae follows quietly behind you, staring at you as you happily tread ahead, your hands warm and guarding his against the slightly chilly air, hair flowing in the wind and he suddenly thinks you’re even prettier than he first thought you were. And then he starts thinking that maybe this part of his life that’s planned by his parents isn’t so bad after all.
Though, when you get back to the hotel, you find out that Sae has already specially asked for two separate beds, to the surprise of all the hotel staff, because of course, Mrs Itoshi had booked the honeymoon suite for the both of you. Special requests for that room usually mean flowers on the bed, or breakfast just the way they like it—not for the groom of all people to be asking for a separate bed altogether, especially when he insists there is no additional person.
“I’ll sleep out here,” Sae tells you the moment you get back to the hotel that night, gesturing to the bed set up by the television, much to your bummer. But you suppose you can’t expect too much—hand holding was already a miracle in itself.
“Oh yeah, sure,” you shrug it off, like it doesn’t even matter. Deep down you feel like a rock was dropped from your throat to the bottom of your stomach, forming a gaping hole in your heart along the way that you tried to will into non-existence.
Still, somehow, despite this little obstacle, you find yourself optimistic after being witness to Sae’s change in demeanour.
“Hey, Y/N?”
When you turn around, you see a hint of hesitation flicker across his teal eyes before he shakes his head, brushing it off.
“It’s nothing, goodnight.”
Although you’re curious, you decide not to press him about it. Offering a small smile, you nod.
“Goodnight, Sae.”
Over the course of your entire honeymoon, you find that you shouldn’t be chiding yourself for being delusional in the first place.
For once in this one-sided love affair, you feel like perhaps it’s not so one-sided at all. Because from what you’ve learned about Sae in your close-to-minimal time together, he isn’t someone that you can force into doing anything he doesn’t want to. At least when it comes to mundane activities which includes trips. (Unless you’re his parents who you have no doubt in your mind probably mirrors your own and have their ways of controlling him, per se.)
But it’s hard to think he doesn’t want to do any of this with you when he’s so compliant. He follows your bucket list of things to do and doesn’t complain once. He lets you drag him to the palace and looks only slightly concerned when you tell him you want to “do the thing where we can dress up like royalty and take pictures” but he only sighs and concedes within seconds.
When he comes out of the room looking like the most handsome prince you’d ever met, you’re too shy to meet his gaze but he tilts your head up to look at him for most of the shots anyway. With his face so close to yours, with these kinds of small gestures which he willingly initiates, you begin to wonder if it’s possible to make him happy in this possibly loveless marriage.
Spending ten days together, surrounded by just each other and doing things that couples do; it nearly makes you feel as if this is real. Like Sae really loves you and that he had asked you to marry him one day out of the blue because of it. Nothing like how you felt that first time you met him, in your dressing room minutes before you were about to become husband and wife, being talked down to and told that this was a facade and could be nothing more.
Now he’s here with you, sticking close and following you around, entertaining your requests for activities, falling asleep on your shoulder when you were on the plane to Jeju, and sometimes he absentmindedly holds your hand like he’s used to it. He helps you with your luggage always, and he makes sure you get food whenever your stomach starts growling, and he’s more observant than you give him credit for because he starts picking the radish off your plate without you asking.
Your album’s suddenly filled with pictures of you and Sae and you were hesitant at first but dragging him to the amusement park when he wasn’t for it at first was a good decision; for a while, you get to see what he’s like when all the downturned lines on his face reverse, when he looks the most like an actual guy in his mid-twenties, enjoying life instead of brooding all the time. Thanks to that, your pictures are more both of you smiling or being goofy together instead of faceless pictures because neither of you feel like showing your faces at all.
By the time your honeymoon is about to come to an end, you find that maybe there’s hope for this after all. That maybe you’d just been overthinking everything prior to this and it shouldn’t be worth worrying over after the trip ends.
But you find that hope can be flimsy sometimes.
On the seventh night there, you and Sae are both on your bed, in the actual bedroom, fighting (not literally) over a multiplayer game. Just two adults hunched over one phone playing frustrating games meant for kids. (Somehow it makes you feel like perhaps neither of you ever had a normal childhood and this is something to make up for it.) It’s all fun and games until you see a throng of message notifications from dummy mixed in with several from what you presume to be Sae’s group chat with the guys.
And you can keep pretending like it doesn’t matter, except Sae immediately stops after the current round and tells you he has to take a call. And you already know more or less who he’s going to talk to. And just like that, you feel like you’re back to square one all over again.
The subsequent nights (and days) aren’t easy for you either. After just giving up on thinking and forcing yourself to sleep that night, you’d been stuck with paranoia everyday. Especially when you realise that he’s starting to take calls every night outside on the balcony where he’s sure you’re out of earshot.
You wonder if he’s being lovey dovey with her outside when he talks to her. You wonder if he imagines you as her when you’re out together. You wonder if he wishes you were her. You wonder if all this is just a gimmick; a test run for when he does the actual things with the actual girl he wants to do them with.
Safe to say, by your last night there, you’re a mess. The moment you get back from trying to be happy all day (which was a disaster because you wouldn’t stop trying to minimise contact with Sae), you tell him you’re too tired and that you’ll just go ahead and go to bed.
Which, of course, is code for ‘you just want to lie in bed and cry all night’.
Sae couldn’t even get a word out before you shut the door on him, plopping down onto the bed and crying into your pillow. Maybe holding everything in was a bad idea. Now you’re bursting with emotions and you try to call Reo a few minutes later but you can’t even get him because he’s busy somehow and you’re positive that the gods hate you right now.
There is one thing about being on rock bottom that you like, though; at least you know how you feel. You’re exhausted and upset and envious because you wish you could be that person for your husband. But you keep getting reminded that you’re not. That somehow you’re just a mere stand-in until he marries his real wife next time. The one he promised to love forever. (Technically, he vowed that to you on your wedding day too, but that’s not the same and you know it.)
Deciding to shut off your phone and have this time to yourself to cry your eyes out, you miss the sudden swarm of notifications that come in. And thanks to you stuffing your head into the pillow, you don’t notice Sae opening the door and peeking inside, an unfamiliar feeling settling inside him at the sound of you sobbing.
He gently closes the door behind him as he walks to you, your back turned to him, your hands and feet hanging onto the bolster like a koala to a branch. Slowly, he saunters over to you, almost like he’s afraid to. When his hand rests on your shoulder and he sinks into the mattress beside you, you stiffen up for just a moment before spinning around and sobbing into his chest instead.
You didn’t expect him to even enter your room at all, much less let you stain his shirt or hold you close when you’re being emotional like this, but he stays there, hand gently rubbing your arm, up and down, a gentle kiss placed on the top of your head. It makes you wonder what kind of games he’s playing. Is this Sae not being able to make up his mind and that’s why he’s still so nice to you even when he has his old flame in the back of his head?
“Do you… want me to leave you alone?” He asks, though you can argue it’s kind of a stupid question but then you realise he probably doesn’t know much about actual relationships so you let it slide.
You shake your head in response, deciding that as stupid as it all sounds, you want to throw your hat in the ring. You’ve fallen for him, and you want him for yourself.
And maybe it’s wrong of you to project this on him, but your absence of a normal family where a home is not just a house and where parents shower their children with actual love and concern makes you yearn for one yourself. And maybe it’s not a great idea to want that from a man you married from being forced to, but thanks to this honeymoon you can see that there’s a flicker of spark there.
That Sae’s not emotionless and he’s definitely not cold to you. Not anymore. That if you guys had been given more time instead of being rushed into things by your parents then maybe the whole wedding could’ve gone without any of the hitches you experienced. That every single radish he picked off your plate, every picture he took with you, every time he held your hand, every time he pulled you close—none of that was manufactured, was it?
So isn’t it possible for you to be happy with him? So is it still foolish or selfish of you to want to be with him?
Is it too much if you ask him about it?
“Hey, Sae?” Your voice is soft and timid and more vulnerable than you’ve ever shown, but he hears you loud and clear, his “hm?” resounding against his chest, right next to your ear. “Can you stay?”
A few seconds of pause, and he replies, “of course.”
You shake your head slightly. “I don’t mean that. I mean, you know, what we said on our wedding day.” Your voice is entirely muffled, still Sae understands.
There’s an even longer pause this time, and you think that Sae’s just thinking of a way to get out of this until you hear him speak up again.
“Idiot,” he chides, but you can hear the soft affection in his voice. Suddenly, you feel his pinky wrapping around your own, and he holds it near your face. “I promise you,” he whispers, and you wish you could see the expression on his face, “I’ll stay.”
It might be wishful thinking but you think he really means it.
taglist: @kimvmarvel @mxplesyrvp @yuzurins @futuristicxie @kiopanxp @k0z3me @y-sabell-a @sae1toshilover @xoxojisu @karmatiz @sagejin @minnieminnie00-got7 @hearts4heidi @shiinobu-x @n1uh @prepchuu @leeyzhuo @shidouryusm @tsukishiro-yue2402 @kaiserkisser @pookiebearcave @dcvilxswish @saeskiss @whtflrr @arminseas @raphsimp @saharei @danibxe @lectris00 @comet-kun @ishitam67 @gskill @sweet2wthsblog *bolded: can’t tag you due to your settings >_<
#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#itoshi sae x reader#sae x reader#bllk x you#bllk x y/n#sae x you#itoshi sae x you#sae x y/n#itoshi sae x y/n#itoshi sae#blue lock#૪ aeri’s fics !
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Here are some sad Trolls headcanons/scenarios that won't leave my head (I try to put them in a timeline order)
Floyd left expecting to come back eventually. What it took to leave BergenTown made him scared of coming back for a long while.
Since Indie sub-genres are basically all also sub-genres of other genres (Indie Pop, Indie Folk, etc) maybe there's a tribe of Indie trolls out there that are just a bunch of trolls descended from the other main six tribes. (I sometimes imagine Floyd spent a lot of time there in the 20+ years he was gone)
Clay used to scratch his arms/wrists when he was mad as a kid. They had him wear wristbands to help, and he actually loved the feeling of wearing them.
Floyd could stop any fight between his brothers by crying. This how he ended up known as "the sensitive one"
One of the bros tried to convince Branch John Dory was actually his dad. He cried, because he didn't want his bros to not be his bros anymore. John Dory was mad about this prank because of how upset it made Branch, and because he never wanted to replace their parents.
This "date" made Spruce feel so uncomfortable, he threw up when he got home. He pretended he was just sick, and John Dory never stopped apologizing for convincing him to go out while he was "sick." (image from Branch's clueboard, cleaned up by @kittyball23)
In general, I think the ages of BroZone at the time of the break-up were Young Adult, Teen, Preteen, Child, and Baby.
Grandma Rosiepuff geniunely expected the other bros to come back after a bit of time. They'd fought before, and they always made up.
Branch went gray not just because Grandma sacrificed herself for him, not just because he lost the only family of his that stayed. But also because he failed her. He failed to keep her safe. And he failed his brothers who trusted him to look after their grandma.
Creek was always manipulative and toxic af. During the big escape, his shoved Branch out of the way. (no one ever believed Branch when he said it was on purpose.
Someone helped Branch get back up and keep going so he wasn't left behind. He never got a good look at who it was. He used to imagine finding them and becoming a sort of found family with them.
It was Clay. He saw Creek shove another kid out of the way (obviously on purpose). But he didn't recognize who the gray troll kid was. He just quickly got the kid up and moving so he could go back and look for Branch and Grandma (this is how he ended up left behind with Viva and the Putt-Putt trolls).
People tried to look out for Branch while he was still a kid. But he liked to keep his distance, so they all did, too. They weren't ever able to help him get his color back, anyway. (Poppy was the only one who never gave up trying to help him)
Everyone kind of agreed to stop bringing up the trolls left behind around King Peppy (and in extension Poppy) because it's cause him to completely shut down. It looked like he might go gray, too.
Clay developed some self-destructive habits after arriving at the golf course. He thought he failed to save his baby brother. He was very good at keeping it hidden. Eventually he improved through sheer stubbornness. He keeps the old wristbands as a comfort, and to cover scars. (Literally no one but him knows)
John Dory interacted with a few other survivalists on the Neverglade Trail. Maybe he had an opportunity to "settle down" with one of them. But the guilt of leaving his brothers behind started eating him up, so he ran. (who knows, maybe he has a kid he doesn't know about)
When John Dory tried coming home, it was a few years after the escape from the Troll Tree. He saw it empty and thought it meant the Bergens had finally eaten every last troll. Maybe some of his brothers escaped. But the way he saw it, the younger the brother, the more likely they didn't make it. John Dory was convinced his baby brother was dead.
John Dory didn't have very much memorabilia when he first left. When he returned to the Troll Tree empty, he took as much stuff as he could carry without being scared of getting caught.
Bruce really wanted to invite his younger brothers to his wedding, but he didn't have a way to contact them. John Dory was the only one he had any way of reaching.
That postcard to John Dory was sent because he was desperate to reach out to ONE of his brothers, but he didn't want to have that reconciliation or fight at his wedding. So it's a mostly blank postcard. (John Dory cried, because it was confirmation one of his brothers was alive.)
Bruce named his daughter Rosie, after Grandma Rosiepuff. (he thought of naming some of his sons after his presumed dead younger brothers, but that felt wrong when he changed his own name to distance himself from them and the band)
Poppy might have briefly had a bit of a crush on Creek. This makes the betrayal all the more devastating.
At some point between the events of the first movie and Floyd getting captured, he crossed paths with Creek. They briefly had a fling, but eventually, Creek's toxicity became too much, and Floyd went left for someplace new. (And Creek might have been arrested in the Indie Mountains.)
None of the other troll tribes knew the Pop Trolls were annually being eaten alive for so many years. Some find their ability to keep so cheery and positive after all that to be actually impressive.
Peppy is doing therapy with Mr. Dinkles because the events of World Tour made him realize he doesn't have a good way of coping with things. (Running, hiding, and keeping secrets aren't actually good in the long run.)
Crimp experienced some major abuse from Velvet and Veneer. Yet she never tried leaving the job as their assistant because it was the only job she could get.
John Dory, Bruce, and Clay never expected to see Branch grown up. They didn't know how to react to/treat him like a grown up when they first saw him again.
Floyd genuinely thought he'd die in that bottle, even if the bros managed to hit the perfect family harmony. At that point, he was so drained, his hair was almost entirely white, and he couldn't even stand himself up. But the idea that the last thing he'd ever see would be his brothers singing and dancing together like old times made him happy.
The perfect family harmony undid most of the physical damage Floyd experienced. But he still feels a sort of phantom pains sometimes. His legs will feel numb and tingly. Stretching helps.
Velvet tried to completely throw her brother under the bus after they got arrested. She tried to blame him for everything, tried to claim she was forced to go along with it. Veneer's confession, Crimp's testimony, and just the way she slowly took more and more of the spotlight away from her brother kept her from getting her way. Veneer even got a lighter sentence than she did.
#dreamworks trolls#trolls brozone#trolls band together#trolls branch#trolls floyd#trolls john dory#trolls bruce#trolls clay#trolls poppy#trolls headcanons
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Remember me? (Part 9)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.
But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.
Except for a very adorable reminder of him.
•○●⛦●○•
Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.
A/n: Aight y'all. This thing contains some heavy themes i guess, so this one can be skipped if you want. this part is basically a filler chapter.
This picks up one month after the last part ended.
Andddd....
Here we go.
•○🌑○•
Feyre's pov.
Feyre was walking home from her art studio, Nyx hopping along next to her. The day was beautiful, not too bright, not too cloudy. It was a perfect day to go out with her family on a picnic and simply enjoy their company and thank the mother for her blessings.
Or at least it would have been a good day for that if her family hadn't been falling apart.
Rhys had been pulling away more than ever. He had become detached from reality, drinking his days away and being locked up in his office all day. He had become more snappy than ever, yelling and throwing a fit at the smallest inconveniences.
A few days ago, he had punched and cracked a wall because his food was too hot.
Rhys was... he going mad. There was no other was to put it.
He did not want to be talked to, and if he found someone looking at him for longer than a moment, he would snarl like a wild beast. His appearance had also become... worse.
He looked so sick, like he would drop dead at any moment.
A loud gasp drew Feyre from her thoughts, and she looked down to find Nyx staring wide eyed at a spot on the ground nearby.
"Nyx?" Feyre questioned gently, trying to get his attention.
Nyx snatched his hand away from his mother's, sprinting away when Feyre tried to grab his hand again.
"Nyx! What are you doing?"
She followed Nyx, walking briskly behind him. She slowed to a stop when he did, watching as the little boy bent down.
A moment later, he drew up again, a huge, adorable grin on his face.
In his hands was a smooth, white rock. He held it gingerly, both his hands cupped, like holding it too tightly would shatter the beautiful thing.
"Papa would love this mommy."
Her heart melted and shattered at the same time.
But she couldn't bring herself to tell him that Rhys probably wouldn't care, so far lost in his head was he.
"Yes darling, he would love it."
Nyx gave her a toothy grin in return, turning back to the ground as he searched for something. He bent down again, and when he came up this time, he held a smaller rock in his hand and held it out to Feyre.
"This one is for Finnie. I will give it to him when we meet again."
Feyre nodded, plastering on a smile for the sake of her son as she agreed to meeting Fin soon.
But deep down, she knew she wished the two boys never met again. Because there were only two circumstances under which they could meet, and neither were favourable.
The first would be if Y/n returned to the night court, and Feyre knew that wouldn't happen as Y/n didn't want Rhys to mess with her or her son's life ever again.
And the second would be if Feyre left Rhys.
And she wished that it never came to that.
It wasn't that she didn't believe Y/n. At first she hadn't, but then Y/n had showed Feyre her memories, and Feyre had to believe her, no matter how much she wanted it all to be a lie. Because fabricating someone's memories was too hard and even unheard of.
Feyre told herself Rhysand's weird behaviour was only the result of heartbreak, of finding out he had another son all along.
She hoped he would go back to normal, that one day he would wake up and realise how bad his condition had been becoming, how he had been weeping and wasting away for something he could never have and throwing away everything he did have for the illusion of happiness.
As she reached the door of the river house, she wiped away all her thoughts and simply focused on getting Nyx to go to sleep. Or do anything but stay away from his father.
Rhys would probably yell at the little boy if he was in a foul mood, and Feyre simply could not handle watching her son cry.
"Hey Nyx, why don't we make cookies? Would you like that?"
Nyx nodded happily. "Yes mommy. We can do that after I give papa this stone."
"No Nyxie. Can we not give papa the stone later? Or I can give it to him." Feyre offered.
Nyx held the stone away from Feyre, shielding it with his body as he frowned. "No. I will give it to papa."
Before Feyre could try more to convince him, he ran off, climbing the stair as fast as his ittle legs would carry him.
She followed him, making as little noise as possible. Because in the past few weeks, even the littlest noises had been triggering her mate's urge to destroy everything in sight.
"Nyx! Nyx, slow down!" She whispered, frantically reaching for him. He had already reached the landing, and now ran to his father's office.
The door was slightly ajar, and Nyx pushed it open the rest of the way in his haste to give the stone to his father himself.
Feyre reached the door, her heart beating in her throat, just in time to see Nyx reach his hands up, the stone cupped in them, towards Rhys, who was staring down at the little boy, his eyebrows raised.
Rhys took the stone, inspecting it carefully before a nonchalant look crossed his features, and Feyre immediately knew that he was going to throw the rock away and either yell at Nyx or dismiss him entirely.
Feyre didn't want to see her boy sad, and so she reached out with her daemati powers and knocked on the mighty walls of the fortress surrounding Rhys's mind.
He glanced up, irritation evident in his eyes, but he let her speak to him through a small window that he created.
Please don't hurt him. Please pretend.
Rhys cocked his head, and Feyre could practically see the wheels turning in his head, and a sense of dread gripped Feyre when a slow smirk spread across Rhysand's face.
Sure, Feyre. He purred in her mind before he looked down at the little boy, who stared up at his father with a hopeful smile on his face.
"This is beautiful, my boy. Thank you so much." And with that, Rhys pocketed the rock, and Nyx giggled, turning to Feyre with the biggest toothy grin ever.
"Mommy, are we going to make cookies now?"
Before Feyre could respond, Rhysand cut in. "How about you do it with Nuala and Ceridwen? I have an important thing to discuss with mommy."
Nyx nodded, then sprinted away to the stairs, and as Feyre watched him go, the dread coiling around her heart felt like a vise.
"What did you want to talk about?" She asked once Nyx was out of sight, and Rhys gestured at her to come in and lock the door. She did so without questioning him.
The moment the lock clicked shut, Rhys prowled forward, his hands landing on the sides of Feyre's shoulders, caging her in against the door. He leaned down, his hot breath washing over the side of her face as he whispered directly in her ear.
"It's been so long since we've had some alone time," A pause as he began to peel her clothes off of her. "Y/n darling."
•○🌑○•
Feyre stared at the beams of moonlight across the ceiling, tears running down the sides of her face and into her hair.
She was ashamed and disappointed in herself, and as she curled into a ball on her side, she considered peeling off her skin and setting fire to it.
She sniffled quietly, her mind refusing to think of anything but the past few hours, when Rhys had touched her, worshipped her like he were a devoted male and she a goddess.
Except hers was not the name he chanted in his prayers.
No, it was of his former lover, and for some reason, she had not been able to push him off of her or do anything to let him know she did not want him to touch her while he was lost in the thoughts of another female.
Rhys had wounded Feyre's heart for nearly half the night, and she could do nothing about it.
Worse were the way he'd rubbed salt on her wounds after the whole ordeal, telling her she was nothing compared to her. That Feyre could never be her, and that it really was a waste of time to have pursued Feyre to see if a mate was worth loosing Y/n over when he could have been with Y/n all along.
Every muscle in Feyre's body clenched as she tried to quiet her sobs so as not to wake him as he slept peacefully at her back.
Feyre didn't know what to do.
Slowly, her mind drifted to that day a month ago, when she and Y/n had talked, and Y/n had showed Feyre exactly what Rhys had done to her.
Feyre... you can come with us.
You can live with us.
Look Feyre, you are Nyx's mother. You know what's best for him. If you need time, then take some time. Think about this if you want. But leave him Feyre. He does not deserve you or Nyx.
I can't force you to come with us but... I beg you Feyre. Think about this. And when you are ready, write to me. I will ask Eris to make arrangements for your safe travel to autumn court.
Feyre sniffed, wiping her tears with her palms as her path forward became clearer.
Write to me.
A pen and paper appeared next to the bed on the nightstand, and Feyre picked them both up, scribbling down a quick message and then winnowing it away, hoping her friend was awake and found it.
Though that would be a miracle, as it was quite literally the middle of the night, and not many people stayed up crying over their pathetic lives.
But there was nothing else Feyre could do except hope, because anything else had been stolen away by her mate. The one who was supposed to never harm her.
With one last look at the sleeping form beside her, Feyre stood, gathering all her discarded clothes and pulling them on, trying not to cringe in embarassment.
Then, she grabbed a bag, stuffed all her clothes and Nyx's inside of it, especially all the expensive gowns of hers. She could maybe sell them to make a little extra money.
Just before se left her and Rhysand's room, her gaze snagged on a bundle of money Rhys stored in his drawer, and a plan formed in Feyre's mind, and her lips lifted in a small smirk.
It seemed that the meeting with Fin would happen sooner rather than later.
And that a visit to the bank was necessary.
•○🌑○•
Taglist: @holb32@awoa1@cleverzonkwombatsludge@luvmoo@we-were-beautiful@eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913@j-pendragonx@thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz@esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow@bubybubsters@eos-princess@nightless@bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten@txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman@leeknows-wife@aria-chikage@amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover@kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay@acourtofbatboydreams@stained-glass-eyes0708@glaciuswduo@wallacewillow0773638@cassie6392
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#eris x reader#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra#eris acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fandom#acotar fanfic#acotar fluff#acotar series#acotar writing#acomaf#a court of mist and fury#acowar#acosf#a court of silver flames#acotar#mating bond#sarah j maas#acotar headcanon#pro eris vanserra
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Pairings: blade x reader | jing yuan x reader
Synopsis: After a tragedy that consumed two of his companions, the face that he secretly longed for unexpectedly appeared before him once again. But this time his heart is filled with hate.
Tags: angst | stellaron hunter! reader | enemies to lovers | past tragedies
a/n: can I say the stellaron hunters are the coolest faction ever. like its where badass bitches belong! | i'll release jing yuan's route some time later lmaoo i'm so bored i do shit like this | trying out my favs with fav/popular tropes while i still have the brain
During that time when Blade got caught by the Xianzhou, you felt like your heart leaped out of your chest as soon as you heard the news from Kafka, who was sporting a rather laid-back smile.
"What? Don't look at me like that. Bladie is going to be fine. He's a big guy now." she said while going through your own collection of coats, something you picked up while shopping with her and the guy that follows behind like a guard dog.
He always looked at you with a scowl when you were a new recruit. Simply speaking, if looks could kill, you'd be dead long before this unserious turn of events...where Kafka also got caught. Yet this time upon silently watching the fiasco from somewhere, you're not the least bit worried. How could you when the woman herself was smiling like a maniac as she was caught by the master diviner. You seriously think it's time for you to leave this group of wild lunatics who casually gets taken as prisoners.
As you sigh and leave, Kafka's voice suddenly rings in your ear.
"Be patient, Elio will talk to you soon about a very important mission."
A mission that entails "saving" her but unfortunately, Blade had escaped and is standing before you with the usual expression on his face. Sure, this guy probably carries a lot of baggage but you can't help but feel uncomfortable with him. Especially when a little fight occurs between the two of you about who gets to save Kafka.
"What are you doing? Elio tasked me with this. I met him!"
"..."
Then he suddenly takes off while you follow after him, taking down enemies behind like some kind of sidekick while he attempts to take the spotlight of appearing before the trailblazers. But of course, you don't let him. You remain firm in doing what Elio told you, glaring at Blade while holding off the pursuers together.
You roll your eyes as he acts a little goofy in your sight, acting all charismatic with his sword drawn and all that. You even failed to hold your laughter with the way he dove, quickly pulling out your phone to snap a photo of Blade, then sending it to Silver Wolf because you're too scared of the consequences if you dare send it to the group chat. Blade might actually kill you if that happens.
look at him, he looks so stupid
But unbeknownst to you, the general himself saw you that time, and for him, it seemed like everything stopped and faded into the background. Your swaying hair and glowing eyes were what stood out at first. But then—you also had a face that eerily resembled someone from his past.
It is now revealed to the Xianzhou that the Stellaron Hunters aren't threats. You had no reason to come back to the Luofu anymore, it's all up to their alliance on what to do with the problem they're currently facing. The Stellaron Hunters had done their part as Kafka had said, but before you could board the spacecraft, you suddenly voiced out your decision—or rather, Elio's decision for you.
It felt ridiculous, really, listening to someone and doing whatever they tell you like a dog. It didn't feel good to you but as soon as you landed in the Luofu, something pulled you to stay there just as Elio had said.
"I'm staying. You guys should go ahead."
Kafka turned to you with a little smile on her face, seemingly understanding the situation. But surprisingly, Blade stiffly turned and had an unreadable expression on his face. He seemed mad—his furrowed eyebrows were a clear indication.
"Why?!" he's a man of few words but this single question made his voice akin to a roar. Even Kafka turned and boarded the craft, leaving you and Blade alone.
"Why not? Elio told me." You lied, he never told you to stay. Yes, he had an influence with his persuading words. But naturally, you'll take this route to feed on your curiosity because it always feels like there are missing pieces inside you. "I'll be staying here and that's final. It's none of your concern." You said while crossing your arms and Blade's eyes squinted.
You saw that he has his fists clenched, veins popping out as you raised your brows, also getting mad at whatever show he was putting on.
"What is it to you? Can't the Stellaron Hunters function without me?" And when he doesn't reply, you just roll your eyes and waved to leave.
Blade watches you go farther and farther until you're a dot in his sight, just like the moment when you followed after the woman who made him suffer over and over again. Your cold lifeless eyes and your face lined with blood as you watched the life drain out of him will forever be a memory that haunts him.
You weren't one of them. But when he saw you once again in this lifetime, he decided...that you'll also have to pay the price.
#ok bye im tired#who did this to you is coming soon#i refuse to remove that from the narrative#honkai star rail headcanons#blade x reader#blade x reader angst#blade x you#honkai star rail x you#hsr x you#hsr headcanons#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail blade#honkai star rail#hsr angst#hsr x reader#blade x y/n#honkai star rail imagines#hsr imagines
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my queen is back 😭😭😭😭🤍🤍🤍🤍
just a little thought, a kindergarten teacher that has this girl-next-door/miss honey/sweetest human ever vibe and jamie meets her and is just ✨️lovestruck✨️ and maybe little snippets of how their relationship evolves, sorry if it's a lot 😭😭😭 I had a dream about this
I'm here again! I hope I can do this justice! This is such a sweet prompt!
The first time he saw her, she was carrying a large box of - what looked like - homemade planets. He was coming home from a run as she tried to open the door to her car while juggling the large box in one hand. Trying and failing he should add. Being the gentleman he is, Jamie ran over to assist.
"Here let me help you," he said, taking the box out of her hands.
"Oh, thank god," The woman sighed out, straightening up. Finally, Jamie could see her fully. She was wearing a space themed dress and wearing Saturn earrings. She smiled brightly at him as she opened the door. "That was a real struggle."
Jamie was fucked.
She looked between him and the box before moving to take the box out of his hand. Jamie snapped out of his stupor in time to move out of her way. "Let me... there we go."
He place the box down in the car, dusting his hands off. "That's a new PR for me, lifting the entire solar system."
The woman laughed and Jamie thought he could feel his heart leap out of his chest. He smiled at her, liking the idea that he could make her laugh.
"I'm a kindergarten teacher," She explained, motioning to her whole outfit. "Today is planets."
Jamie's eyes shot down and up, trying to be discrete as possible in his checking out of her body. "Gotcha... solar system, makes sense. Gotta teach them the about the mother serving pasta or something."
The woman laughed again, her hands flying up to cover her face. "I think you mean noodles. Or nachos as some people say."
He felt himself smiling again. The woman was blushing, trying to keep her face hidden behind her hands. He held out a hand for her.
"I'm Jamie."
She took his hand, finally revealing her blush fully to him. "(Y/N). And I know who you are." Jamie's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Fuck, sorry, that sounds weird, my boyfriend... or ex-boyfriend I should say, was a big football fan."
Ex-boyfriend, huh? So, she was single then. "Well I hope you still support."
"I do" she answered quickly. "I definitely do."
She blushed again. God, that was cute. The two stood in silence, smiling at each other for at least another minute before (Y/N) looked down at her watch.
"Oh, shit! I have to go!" She cursed, starting to turn around. She mad a 360, trying to find herself before turning back to face Jamie. "Sorry, I have to go. I'll see you around. Thank you for your help." She grunted as she ran into her side mirror. "Fuck, sorry, I'll uh... I'll see you around."
He waved at her as she got in the car and started to back up. As she did, on the other side of the driveway, Roy stood with his arms crossed over his chest.
"You stopped your workout to fucking flirt?"
...
The next time he saw her, he was doing a charity event for the local elementary school. Roy had set it up through Phoebe's school to get some of the team to go play with the kids. And lo and behold there she was with her little class.
Today, she was wearing a dress that had a football pitch decoration on it with football earrings to accompany it. She was busy making sure all the kids were in line, ready to meet the footballer that she she didn't notice him come in.
But one of the boys pointed at him and shouted excitedly.
"It's Jamie Tartt! Jamie Tartt!" He cried out standing up. (Y/N) turned and saw him, her blush returning to her cheeks. She covered her cheeks with her hands and turned to calm the boy down.
Jamie smiled and walked over to the lad.
"Hello, there," he greeted crouching down to the boys level. "Have you been a good lad today?"
The boy nodded furiously, suddenly becoming very bashful. He grabbed onto (Y/N)'s dress and hid behind her skirt. She knelt down and whispered in his ear.
"My name's Simon," he stated loudly, holding out his hand.
Jamie shook his hand and smile. "Nice to meet you, Simon. I'm Jamie." The boy giggled pulling hand back to hide his face. "Do you want to play some football with me and my friends."
Jamie nodded over to where Sam and Isaac were standing. Simon nodded again reaching his hands out from Jamie. Jamie took the boy and hoisted him over his head so he sat on his shoulders. "Alright let's go, lads!"
The boys stayed for much longer than they were required to. Play with the children for several rounds of football and several set ups of headers until one boy hit the ball too hard and broke his nose. After that, they finished up by signing whatever the kids handed to them from jerseys to notebooks and even an eraser.
After all the children left, Jamie found his way back to you.
"So, you teach kindergarten," Jamie mused, walking up to you.
"I teach kindergarten," she agreed, turning to look at him. "And you are excellent with children."
"Would you want to get drink tonight?" Jamie's question surprised himself. (Y/N) raised her eyes and surprise and that blush that Jamie loved so much came over her cheeks.
"Yeah, sure. I'll be done in a few minutes, would you wait?"
"Yes I would, definitely."
...
Well the first date went well. And so did the next date and the date after that and soon it'd been a few months and they'd been seeing each other regularly. (Y/N) started going to games and every now and then she's come to school with gifts for the students, which they all loved.
Jamie loved to pick her up from work. She always worked later than she should and Jamie figured out just the perfect time to get her as she was leaving. Today Jamie had picked her up along with some Chinese take out for a relaxing night in. She was sitting on the couch, leaning against him, showing him the papers she was grading as Jamie fed her fried rice.
"Simon still talks about you in all of his writing," She told him, making a mark on the paper.
"Honestly, babe, how you can read that shite is impressive," he commented squinting his eyes at the paper.
"Please, your handwriting is way worse," she teased, marking an 'A' at the top of the page.
Jamie scoffed in faux offense. "My handwriting is not that bad."
"Yes it is!"
"No it's not!" Jamie grabbed her sides, tickling her aggressively . (Y/N) let out a squeal and desperately tried to get away from him but Jamie just grabbed her and pulled her back into him.
"Jamie!" She giggled, her cheeks turning red. "Stopppp!"
"Tell me that my handwriting isn't the same as a kindergarteners," Jamie demanded, never letting up his torment.
"Fine! Your handwriting isn't quite as bad as the kindergartners."
Jamie finally let up, letting (Y/N) catch her back as she fell back into him. As she laid there, head on his shoulder, letting out a chuckle as she caught her breath, Jamie felt something shift inside him.
"Hey... I love you."
Her eyes widened and she turned to look up at him. "Really?"
He nodded, his own cheeks turning red under her gaze. She shifted, turning around and resting her hands on his chest. She leaned down and kissed him softly. Jamie made a noise of appreciation as she did, his hand coming up to rest on her neck.
"I love you too, sweet boy."
And that is how Jamie fell in love with a kindergarten teacher.
#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x reader#ted lasso#ted lasso show#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt fanfiction#drabble night
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Douchebag Ellie supremacy!
Headcannons: douchebag!ellie x reader
☆ Douchebag Ellie who was the most hated girl on campus because she was literally a bitch.
☆ Douchebag Ellie was in the same class as you and who treated you like shit.
“I thought you were smart dude, I got higher than you”
☆ Douchebag Ellie who would yawn loudly as you try and present. Or she would literally just make random noises. She was trying to get under your skin.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who would boo every time your lecturer asked you to answer a question.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who bumps into you on purpose, making you drop your books and then she walks away laughing.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who would insult you on a daily basis, when in reality she was looking for ways to talk to you.
“You look fucking disgusting”
“you’re seriously going to wear that?”
“No wonder your ex cheated on you”
☆ Douchebag Ellie who thrives off the attention you give her when you yell at her. Or when you tell her to fuck off.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who sits directly behind you and throws notes at you and who thinks it’s funny when you flip her off.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who gets defensive when her friends say she has a crush on you.
“Dude you’re literally fucking in love with her! You already act like a dick in general but you act like a bigger one around her”
“Shut the fuck up Jesse, this is why Dina left you”
☆ Douchebag Ellie who watches you smile with other people but when it comes to her you walk past her. And as much as she likes to pretend it didn’t make her feeling anything, she felting something. It hurt.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who feels a pit grow in her stomach when she saw you walking hand in hand with another girl.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who knows it’s not normal to get jealous when you see someone you know walking with someone else.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who realizes she’s in love with you and that she’s fucked.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who becomes worse after that. Harsher insults and snarkier comments.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who’s mad at herself for not talking to you sooner.
“Dude it’s my fault” Ellie sighed one afternoon.
“if you weren’t such a pussy maybe you could talk to her and ask her out” Jesse spoke as he tried comforting his friend.
“she was so rude to that poor girl; I don’t even think she stood a chance” Dina added
☆ Douchebag Ellie who grew quiet and less bitchy.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who stopped making fun of you and completely distanced herself.
“Ellie are you ok?” her eyes snapped open she was met with the girl she was so deeply in love with.
“why do you fucking care?” Ellie snapped.
“I don’t” you answered. “it’s just you didn’t call me stupid of failing my test”
“well you aren’t stupid” Ellie muttered
“what?” You asked “I didn’t hear you”
“Nothing” Ellie muttered.
Ellie brought her hand up to her face as she rubbed her eyes and she let out a sigh. “Look- can I ask you something?” Ellie hesitantly asked.
“sure”
if I- if I wasn’t such a bitch would you like me? Like- you know.. like like me?” Ellie looked at you sheepishly.
“who says I don’t already?” Ellie started at you with wide eyes as you just winked at her,
“see in class Williams!” you said as you walked away
☆ Douchebag Ellie who got hope that she did actually have a change with you.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who made it her mission to make you hers from that day on.
#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou x reader#ellie tlou2 x reader#ellie williams blurb#ellie williams drabble#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams imagine#ellie x reader#ellie miller#ellie tlou2#ellie williams fan fic#ellie williams fic#ellie williams hcs#ellie williams headcanons#ellie williams one shot#ellie williams oneshot#ellie williams promlt#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams tlou2#ellie williams x fem reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x reader smut#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie x fem reader
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✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | matt sturniolo ♔
summary: y/n was always supportive of her brother, but when he introduces her to his new girlfriend, things go down hill and take turn for the worst
warnings: fights, sibling fights, crappy girlfriend, unhealthy relationships, cheating, my worst writing ever
notes: don't come at me if the pictures are wrong, i'm kinda tired and just picked the first three that popped up on pinterest
celebrities masterlist | main masterlist
It wasn’t often that Matt brought home someone. It wasn’t often that he and his sister fought. All things had to change at one point.
The day had already started on a sour note, Matt surprised his family by saying he had a girlfriend and then surprised them by saying that he wanted them to meet her, tonight. Y/n wasn’t mad, per say, but it definitely would have been nice to know so she could have mentally prepared herself for this.
She wasn’t an overprotective sister, if anything being the younger sister of three brothers, triplets nonetheless, she was the one who was being overprotected. Yet, she learned a few things from them. Know who to trust, what to trust them with, and when to trust them. They taught her about bad boyfriends and girlfriends, that she shouldn’t have to do something she didn’t want - except, school of course, and chores, and hygiene, but she knew what they meant.
So, whenever they brought home someone, she analyzed them for the things they said were red flags. Bad hygiene, subtle possessiveness, not letting them do something, being wary of how they talked when they were around, etc. That was why when Chelsea arrived at their house her eyes were fixed on her and why she had a bad feeling settle at the bottom of her stomach.
Chelsea was nice but that was the problem. The little things that y/n had noticed said that she shouldn't trust her, so why was she acting like this? She was very polite towards their parents, got along with Nick and Chris, tried to get along with her, helped out with dinner and cleaning the plates afterward, was smart, pretty, and had good manners. The was just something off.
When Matt walked Chelsea to her car, y/n went back to her room, Chris and Nick following behind her.
“You don’t like her.” It was more of a statement than a question coming from Nick’s mouth. She turned around and plopped onto her be as she nodded her head, “I mean she was nice don’t get me wrong, but my gut is telling me that there’s something wrong.”
Chris agreed with his sister’s statement and Nick looked between the two, “Listen, I know we always tell you to trust your gut, especially about someone that you're in a relationship with but Matt is happy, so it’d be nice if you two didn't fuck this up for him. Please.”
“What the fuck was that, y/n?”
“Language, Matthew!”
“What was what?”
“It would’ve been nice if you tried to talk to Chelsea. She was trying hard to get along with you and you just blatantly ignored her.”
“I didn’t know you knew such a big word, Matt.”
“Oh shut up, will you?”
“Would you two stop fighting?” Their mom peered her head into the room and gave them a look.
“How come when they don’t like my boyfriend that it’s okay for them to act like this but when I don’t like someone they bring home I’m not allowed to say a fucking word? Sorry for my language but seriously, Mom.”
She shook her head and walked away, giving up on her children’s fighting, knowing that they wouldn't stop until someone won.
“That’s not even the same thing. You bring home crappy guys that aren’t good for you and we bring home decent people.”
“That’s why all of your relationships have failed.”
“It’s not like yours have been the most successful either, y/n.”
That hurt. He knew she was insecure about relationships, about nobody wanting her because everyone cared about them instead and that’s all they wanted to talk about.
“Using my own insecurity against me, nice one, Matt. Get out! All of you!”
Matt stumbled, his face softening, “Y/n/n, I didn’t mean that.”
“The fuck you didn’t.”
“What did we do?” Chris asked from her bed, looking at the other three in confusion.
“Nothing. That’s the problem, not even trying to fucking defend me.”
“What did you want us to do, y/n?”
“I’m so over this! Get out! And if Chelsea turns out to be bitch and breaks up with you, I won’t be surprised.”
“That’s a tad far.” Nick tried to settle the two down, but Chris had left completely unbothered by the events.
“And him saying what he said wasn’t?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you implied. Now, get out!”
The two boys left, not without Matt slamming the door behind him. Y/n let the tears fall down her face as she fell onto her bed. She hated fighting with one of them, but practically all three? It felt like she was being ganged up on, and she couldn’t blame them.
✧༺✎༻∞
Over the course of the next two weeks, y/n hadn’t talked to any of her brothers, and vice versa. She wanted to so badly, but what would she even say?
She was sitting in the living room watching ‘The Great British Bake-Off” when Matt came tumbling through the door, kicking his shoes off, and running to his room. Y/n sat up in confusion and watched the boy, getting up to follow him.
She knocked on his door, “Go away!”
She opened the door anyway and walked to Matt’s bed where he lay, face buried into the pillow and facing the wall. She sighed and sat on the bed, placing a hand on his shoulder, “What’s wrong, Matty?”
“Like you care.”
“Of course, I care. I’m your sister. Just because I haven’t been the best one lately and I haven’t talked to you, doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
Matt turned around and laid his head in her lap, y/n’s hands instinctively going towards his head to swipe through his hair, “She cheated on me and then blamed me for it.”
“What a bitch.”
‘I guess you were right, huh? I should’ve listened to you.”
“Matt, this wasn’t about me being right. It was about protecting you, hell I wish I wasn’t right. I just wanted you to be happy and I knew that didn't include her. I guess we both have a funny way of protecting each other.” Matt nodded and apologized.
She waved it off and sat back, turning on his favorite movie on his laptop. She kept reassuring him throughout the movie that it wasn’t his fault and about halfway through the film, Chris and Nick came barreling in to sit with them.
They both said their sorry’s but they fell deaf upon Matt’s ears as he had fallen asleep in his sister’s lap.
#sunny lune writes#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x platonic!reader#matt sturniolo x sister!reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets
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Pairing : (College AU)non!idol!Kim Seungmin x F!Reader
TW : established relationship ; bullying ; depression ; attempted su*c*de ; major angst ; is it considered fluffy at the end or more yandere the way that Seungmin acts at the end??? ; let me know!!!
Word Count : 4.6k
Request : Anon : depressed reader gets actively bullied and bruised which leads to a suicide attempt. seungmin never thought it was that serious once she brought it up to him. but after her failed attempt he is now extra careful with her and maybe a bit mad at himself for not taking it seriously.
A/N : PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS BEFORE CLICKING READ MORE!! To the anon that requested this, I hope you're still here and you remember sending this in! I'm finally posting it!! I hope you enjoy it!
The gif came from this blog!!
It rained again today… It seemed like everyone on campus knew that the storm was coming, everyone but you. Umbrellas were pushed open all around you as you quickly put your hood up, the downpour was torrential and you were soaked within the first minute of your walk back to your dorms. It didn’t help that people seemed to be purposely angling their umbrellas so that whenever you walked by, the rain from the top would pour onto your head.
You’re overthinking it… There’s no reason anyone would purposely do something like that to you. You don’t deserve that. Is what everyone else would say, even your boyfriend… And you would have believed them if not for the insults that were constantly hurled in your direction and the scrapes and bruises that littered your knees and elbows from being pushed around and laughed at when you fell to the ground. You didn’t believe them… And they didn’t believe you.
By the time you got to your building you were dripping wet, but the attacks wouldn’t stop until you were behind closed doors, in the safety of your room, at least for the next couple hours until the next day started and you got to go through it all over again. That was your life, a constant repeat of the day before, and you weren’t sure how much more of it you could take.
As soon as you walked through the front door of your building you heard it, the laughter of the girls who seemed to make it their job to make sure your life was hell. You weren’t sure what you had done to make them hate you so much, you had never even talked to them, but they still decided to target you.
“God, look at the shit they let live in the building with us.” One of them said, although you sure it was the main girl talking. Every clique had a leader, and it was obvious that she was the leader of the group. Everyone else just decided to follow along, and maybe it was because they were scared of being on the receiving end of the girls shit. You were done being scared though, you had simply become numb to it. “What should we do? She looks like a fucking sewer rat, dripping shit all over the entrance. Disgusting.”
You couldn’t walk fast enough, and even if you tried to, you were sure that she’d catch up. She was following right behind you, and before you could even get your foot on the first step, you were being pushed, your knee cracking loudly as it hit the edge of the stair. You didn’t make a sound, you didn’t wince, you didn’t cry, you just got back up, trying your best to focus on anything but the pain that shot through your leg as you continued walking up the stairs.
“Now she’s an injured rat, maybe she should just put herself out of her misery. It’s not like anyone wants her here anyway.” They all laughed, like your pain and your suffering was entertainment for all of them. Maybe they were just bored… It’s not like you could do anything about it. If you said anything, it would only make things worse and no one would ever believe you… You were nobody… There wasn’t a single person who would notice if you were gone.
“I’ll be back tomorrow morning if you want to go out and get breakfast together before class.” Seungmins voice came through the speaker of your phone as it sat on the bed. You hummed softly, not in agreement, not in disagreement either though. It was a sound only to let him know that you were there, that you were still listening. “Did you bring your umbrella with you today? It was raining really bad.”
You hummed again, once again becoming aware of just how wet you were, your clothes soaking through to the mattress that you were sitting on. “Yeah… I’m gonna take a shower and then a nap… I’ve got a lot of studying to do… Want to be well rested.” You muttered, your voice almost robotic, but he didn’t pick up on it, or maybe he did and he just decided to ignore it.
“Alright. Don’t study too hard. I’ll see you in the morning, I’ll pick you up.” His voice was as cheerful as usual, not a care in the world… and why would he have one? He didn’t go through what you did. He didn’t know what it was like, and he refused to believe that it happened to you… In his eyes, everything was perfect. Nothing was ever wrong because it didn’t hurt him… not personally at least.
That’s how it always was… He either didn’t want to believe that such horrible people existed, or he just blew it off, assuming that you were making it seem worse than it actually was. That’s why you didn’t even tell him anymore. You were tired of wasting your breath, trying to call out for help, trying to get him to listen to you and be there for you. It was all pointless. Nothing would ever change… Not for you, not unless you did something… You were the only person who could help yourself.
Your roommate wasn’t back yet, she was always out late studying. It was the perfect opportunity, the perfect time. No one would ever know, and by the time they did, it would be too late. You weren’t going to continue being tortured, you shouldn’t have to continue suffering just to make other people's lives easier, to give them their daily dose of entertainment. You shouldn’t have to go through hell just so someone’s perfect view of the world wasn’t soiled.
Your phone was left on the bed as you went to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and taking a deep breath. It would be over soon, it would all be over soon. It’s not like anyone wants you here anyway… Those words repeated over and over in your mind as you dug through the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the razors that you had bought a couple months before. They were purchased right before your talk with Seungmin. You had wanted so badly for him to listen to you, to tell you that everything would be okay, that he’d help you… You were wrong in wanting those things, you hadn’t gotten any of them. You weren’t sure why you had even held out this long after the talk, it’s not like anything was getting better, and you knew then that nothing would ever be better.
The hoodie that you had been wearing was pulled off, dropping to the ground with a heavy thud, the soaking fabric creating a puddle where it landed. The shower was turned on, the spicket turned all the way to hot. If this would be your final moment, you at least wanted to be comfortable for as long as it lasted.
Hesitating was something you did often. You hesitated when having to pick a multiple choice answer on a test. You had hesitated a little too long when you were called to the front of the class to answer a question on the board. You even hesitated when Seungmin had asked you to be his girlfriend. Hesitation was just… your thing. Not now though, you didn’t hesitate at all as you climbed into the tub, lowering yourself down into the tub. There was no reason to take pause, your decision would affect no one, no one but yourself, and the only effect it would have on you was positive. You would finally be free, and you saw nothing wrong in wanting that.
It was much easier to sleep, to let yourself drift off knowing that you’d have no worries left, knowing that once your eyes were shut, they would be shut for good. You let your wrists fall into the water that filled up around you, focusing only on the sound of the shower, the way it felt like rain as it poured down around you. You’d be okay soon, and while you didn’t know where you’d go or what would happen next… At least you wouldn’t be in hell, at least not this one.
“I really have to go to the bathroom, stupid rain. Just wait here, I’ll be out soon.” Your roommate said as she burst through the door, the rest of her study group drenched as they filed in behind her. She knocked once on the door to the bathroom, then once more, rocking back and forth impatiently as she waited for you to give her the okay to come in. “Fuck it!” She called out as she pushed open the door, coming to a full stop when she saw you, the bath water a dark red as it inched closer and closer to spilling over the sides. “Help! Come help me! Oh my god! Call an ambulance! Fuck! What the fuck!?” She shouted, running over to the tub and grabbing your arms, holding them above your head to try to stop the bleeding.
The rest of them rushed in, some of them screamed when they saw you, your color almost completely drained. Others were pulling out their phones, trying to make the same call at the same time. The ones who screamed were ordered to come over and help, their hands shaking as they tried to help your roommate pull you out of the tub. The others who were on the phone were all trying to tell your roommate and the few others what to do to try to help, at least until the paramedics arrived.
It was strange how even with all the commotion, your mind was happy. You could hear all of it, but you refused to focus on it, scared that if you did it would bring you back to the hell that you called life, the hell that you were trying to escape. “Why would she do that? Why? Are her grades bad? She could have come to study group with us!” Someone had shouted, and if you weren’t feeling so tired, you might have actually laughed. Your grades were the least of your problems, they weren’t even on your list of problems. Of course, your roommate had never believed you either, so she had probably never brought it up to the rest of her group.
“Check… Check to see if her heart is still beating!” One of the guys shakily ordered, and your roommate pressed her fingers against your neck, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to focus on the feeling of the faint beat that came a little too slow. Time was running out, and you felt it too, it was a good feeling, to know that soon you’d gone. There would be no more suffering, no more nights spent lying in your bed crying as you wished that someone, anyone, would understand you, that they’d just listen.
Sirens sang outside the building and you wished that you had done it earlier, that you hadn’t even answered the call from Seungmin. Maybe if you had cut a little deeper… maybe you had been hesitating, a little bit of hope left that maybe now someone would help. Did you really want to die or did you just want things to get better? Would things even get better? At least you were feeling tired, no matter what happened now, you’d be so out of it you wouldn’t remember. Maybe you wouldn’t wake up, maybe it would still work. Maybe…
“Dude, have you seen on twitter?” Jisung asked, leaning back in his chair as he scrolled through his phone. Seungmin was sitting across from him, more focused on his meal. “There was a freaking suicide attempt back on campus… there’s literally live updates right now.” Seungmin rolled his eyes, not nearly as impressed as Jisung for some reason was. “That looks a lot like Y/Ns building! You should call her! See if she knows what’s going on!”
The last thing Seungmin wanted to do was bother you when you had told him you were studying, but by the way Jisung was looking at him, Seungmin knew he wouldn’t let up. “Fine… But I’m not gonna force her to look at that. She can’t handle that kind of stuff.” He mumbled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. It’s not just that you couldn’t handle it, you absolutely hated stuff like that. You couldn’t even watch horror movies without hiding in Seungmins shoulder for the better half of the movie.
Jisung watched as Seungmin dialed your number, his knee bouncing so much under the table that Seungmin could feel it in the floor. “S-Seungmin!” A male voice came over the phone, it wasn’t you at all, and the man sounded breathless and his voice was shaky. Now, Seungmin wasn’t the type of person to jump to conclusions, but he couldn’t help but get a little worked up when he heard anyone but you on the other end of the line.
“Who are you? Where’s Y/N?” Seungmin hissed through the phone, his fist already balled up on the table as he awaited an explanation. Knowing you it would probably be a good one, one that would have Seungmin feeling foolish while laughing about it later with you. You probably just left your phone at the cafe that you always went to… But that wouldn’t explain the urgency in the person's voice… This was someone who knew something or had done something and it wasn’t good. “Where is she?” Seungmin asked again, and he could feel Jisungs eyes on him, eating up the drama without a word, enjoying it far too much since he wasn’t the one personally involved in it.
“Hospital… Ambulance… Lia found her… Come fast…” The man said, and then the line went silent, leaving Seungmin to put the pieces together. He reached across the table to grab Jisungs phone, still open to the twitter feed about the attempted suicide, and as he scrolled through the pictures it became quite clear to him. Your room, with the yellow tape making a big X across the door, your bed that was still made just as it had been this morning. Your bag sat on the floor next to your nightstand where you always left it… And on the nightstand table was a picture of you and him together.
“H-Hey! Where are you going?!” Jisung shouted as Seungmin pushed away from the table, his chair falling back and crashing against the floor as he ran to the front door and pulled on his shoes. The trip that he and the guys in his club had gone on had him miles away from you, of course that’s how it would work out, why wouldn’t it be like that? He needed to be with you the most right now and it would take him hours just to get there. “What is going on?! Come on, dude! Tell me!”
“It was her!” Seungmin shouted to Jisung, although nothing would stop him from moving forward right now. He was on a steady track and it led only to you. He wasn’t crying, not yet, for now he kept the tears at bay with nothing but anger. Anger towards himself for not being there to stop it, anger with you for doing something so stupid. Did you even know what that would have done to him? He loves you, and you were going to just take yourself away from him like that without a word? Why didn’t you talk to him? Why didn’t you tell him? What was going on that would make you think to do something like that? He didn’t get it, and that was only pissing him off more. Right now he just needed to get to you, make sure that you’d be okay.
~~~
“She lost a lot of blood, so we had to do a transfusion. She’ll be okay, we just need to keep watch over her, make sure everything stays good.”
“Can I see her? Why aren’t you letting me in her room? What’s going on? Let me see her!”
“They would like to talk to you first… Before you see her…”
He sat in the lounge room, his hands folded on the table as he looked at the officer across from him. He didn’t know what it was about, but he tried his best to keep calm even though all he wanted to do was get to your room and sit beside you. “Kim Seungmin… You were her boyfriend, right?” The officer questioned and Seungmin narrowed his eyes as it set in that he was about to be interrogated for this shit.
“I am her boyfriend… Present tense…” He responded, quite snarkily, but this felt like a complete waste of time to him. “Is there a reason why you’re doing this? Do you guys think someone else did this to her and set it up?”
The cop shook his head, leaning back in his chair as he looked over Seungmin. “Where were you tonight? How did you know to come here? Seems like you came pretty fast too… Like you knew this was going to happen…”
Seungmins eyes went wide and his jaw was slack as he stared at the officer. How could someone even insinuate that this was somehow his fault? “I was three hours away with my club. I’ve been out for almost a week going to different high schools trying to get people to apply to the university. I called her because my friend saw a bunch of posts on twitter about something happening… I didn’t know it was her until some random guy answered and told me.” He ran his hand through his hair, his teeth gritted as he closed his eyes, his composure slowly wearing thin. “I came fast because she’s my girlfriend… I’d like to think that anyone else would do the same thing. I broke a lot of traffic laws to get here as fast as I did.”
“Do you two ever fight? Does it ever get physically violent?” The officer rapidly tapped his pen against his notebook, the sound going straight to Seungmins head, driving him absolutely crazy. The assumptions were absolutely preposterous, only fueling his anger towards the entire situation.
“Look man, I don’t know what kind of information you’re fishing for, but I didn’t do anything. I’ve never laid my hands on her. I love her… And I really want to be with her right now. Can we be done with this?”
“So you love your girlfriend so much, you never laid a hand on her… Yet she’s covered in bruises? If we didn’t know any better, it looks as though someone might have mistook her for a punching bag.” Seungmins stomach dropped as he listened to the officer, and while he knew that he himself hadn’t been the one to cause those marks on you, a certain rage built inside of him as he tried to think about who would hurt you like that. “Do you know of any accidents she might have been in to cause her kneecap to be entirely shattered? Do you know anything at all?”
His head shook as his tears finally began to fall. You had never told him anything… What had happened to you while he was away? “I… I don’t know… I’d just really like to see her… Please…” His head dropped into his hands as he sobbed quietly, his body shaking with ragged breaths.
Seungmin was no help to the investigation, and the officer quickly realized that, helping him out of his chair and then leading him out of the room, motioning towards the closed door that would soon open and reveal you to him. Were you awake yet? He had so many questions that he wanted to ask you, but the biggest question of all was why… Why would you do something like that? If you answered that one question, he’d have the answer to a lot of his other questions too.
The nurse let him into the room, and seeing you, it had his heart breaking. You looked so weak, so fragile, your arms were completely wrapped up in gauze, your leg had been casted and hooked to a strap in the ceiling to keep it elevated. “Are you sleeping?” Seungmin whispered as he got closer to your bed, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stood beside you. The IV for the blood that was being pumped into you had to be inserted in one of the veins in your neck, the sight of it causing a cold chill to run up his spine. “I’m here now…”
“Do you… believe me… now?” Your voice was so quiet, and your eyes were still shut, if there had been other people in the room he would have sworn it was someone else talking, but you were the only one there, and now he was trying to think of what you could possibly mean. “Was this… enough?”
His hands held onto yours a little tighter as the reels in his mind turned, trying to understand what you were talking about, but nothing was coming up. “What are you talking about? I always believe you… What happened? Tell me, please… I want to help you… I don’t want this to happen again… Talk to me…”
Your fingers twitched against his own, yet your eyes seemed to be glued shut, and even as he was watching your face, it didn’t even look like your mouth was moving even though words were coming out. “People are bad… Seungmin…” People are bad…. What does that even mean? What do you mean? Your answers were only creating more questions for him.
“Visiting hours are over now, sir.” The nurse said from the door. He hadn’t been given enough time though, he needed to know, he needed to know what you were talking about. His head shook rapidly as he kept watching over you. He didn’t want to leave you, even if you didn’t answer any more of his questions, he wanted to stay beside you. “She needs to rest, sir… You can come back in the morning to see her. Okay?”
It’s not like he had a choice, and he didn’t want to have to be escorted out by the officer who interrogated him, so he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before walking backwards to the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow as early as I can… I promise. I’ll be back.”
People are bad… He mulled over the words in his head as he walked through the parking lot and climbed into his car. What the hell did it mean? He couldn’t ask you now… And the only place he could go for any sort of answer was your dorm. Was it still taped off? It’s not like it was a crime scene… It should be open.
The building wasn’t too far from the hospital, he was there within ten minutes, and when he pulled up he could see a group of people sitting on the bench outside smoking a cigarette. You always told him how you hated that, having to walk through the cloud of smoke just to get to the front doors, and it seemed like they would purposely blow it in your direction… People are bad… He’d always tell you that it was just the wind blowing it towards you, that people wouldn’t purposely do something like that.
“I can’t believe she actually did that. What a fucking drama queen.” “She didn’t even write a note. It’s like she was looking for attention.” “How embarrassing for her boyfriend. He’ll probably dump her. Nobody wants to date the campus suicide risk.” “Oh please, it was embarrassing for him to date her in general. I’m sure he only did it out of pity.” “Whatever, the bitch should have cut deeper.”
How could they talk so harshly about you? Were these the ones… the ones that you had told him about before? “Do you believe me now?” He hadn’t believed you then… If he had, would you have done this? He could have stopped them… He would have stopped them. They were still talking, loud enough for everyone to hear… And no one cared. No one cared enough to tell them to shut up, no one… You could be dead… And they talked about you like you were shit.
“Hey, at least we’ll have a couple days out of class… You know… For like… Guidance or whatever.” “Oh yeah… We’re super torn up about it…” “If she would have done it right we’d probably have a week or two. Ugh… I swear, she’s fucking useless.”
Red. All he saw was red as he got out of his car, slamming the door shut and going straight over to where they sat. “Shut up!” He shouted, and for a second, he thought they would keep quiet, but as soon as the initial shock wore off, they were all laughing. Their heads were thrown back as the boisterous laughter bounced off the walls of the building and rang in his ears. “I said shut up!” He screamed, and before he even realized what he was doing, his fist was cocked back and being thrown straight at the face of the girl who sat in front.
Now, Seungmin wasn’t a violent person, not usually, but you were his girlfriend, he almost lost you, and while some might say that a college relationship means nothing, his relationship with you meant everything to him. “Hey man! What the fuck!?” One of the other girls shouted, her hand quickly moving to the main girl's face to catch the blood that trickled down her nose. “You can’t just fucking hit people like that! You’re a psycho!”
Now it was his turn to laugh, his fists still balled up at his sides as he glared at every single person in front of him. “Really? I can’t just hit people like that but you can?!” The girl who had been hit scoffed loudly, her head rolling forward causing the blood to drip down her mouth and hang at her chin.
“Don’t worry, he’s just the bitches boyfriend. She’s too much of a loser to fight back herself, I guess she got her boyfriend to do it for her. Or maybe she’s just not alive to do it.” She stood up from the bench, a cocky smirk on her face as she looked at him. “I guess she’s getting all the attention she wanted now. I did your bitch a favor. You’re welcome.”
He completely lost it, he snapped, his hand flying back just to shoot forward, the smack that landed across the girl's face sounding much louder in the silence that surrounded them. “I find out any of you even so much as look at her… I’ll slit all your fucking wrists and break both your fucking knee caps. I’ll make you suffer, I’ll make you wish you were dead. I can and I will ruin you… Remember that.”
He wasn’t this kind of person… Not before he had met you, but seeing you in the hospital bed, knowing that he had almost lost you forever, it had sparked something inside of him. He wants to protect you, he wants to keep you safe, and if that meant having to be like this… Then he’d do it without hesitation. People are bad… You weren’t wrong, people are awful… But he’d do everything and anything to keep those people away from you, to protect you from them. He’d stop at nothing to make sure that this never happens again.
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