#I just really don't want it to end with her losing all her memories and this is the only other way it could go | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avtrbee · 6 months

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safe

✢ summary: just like everyone else, sometimes megumi just wants his mom.

✢ tags: mentions of the death of a pet, implied satoru x reader

✢ a/n: my friend has psychoanalyzed me with a diagnosis of mommy issues and i have always denied them. then i caught myself reflecting on what type of fanfics i write. especially this one.

Ever since Megumi had started school in Tokyo, he was barely home. Of course, he comes home every now and then, and living within the school's dormitories is part of the high school experience- hell, even you stayed in the school when you were a student- but the house is quiet without him, too quiet, which is probably why he does not go home as often as you'd like- that, among other things.

Everyone in your household knew that Tsumiki was what made your house into a home. Your girl always greeted you with a smile and volunteered to make hot meals for the family when you and Satoru didn't feel like cooking. She was warmth, she was energy, she was life. Until she wasn't.

The house became cold without its fire. You couldn't blame Megumi for wanting an escape from the halls that still echo her memory. Which was why you were surprised to see him sitting on the couch with his arms resting on his thighs, hands buried in his face.

"Megumi?" You call. "I didn't hear you come in."

His head lifts up and looks at you. "Liar," he accuses. "You can sense my cursed energy miles away. You knew I was coming home as soon as you felt it ."

His words were harsh but his tone was not off of his usual deadpan manner of speaking. You can't help but smile. He is still the same child who refused to sleep unless he clung to his divine dogs, Tsumiki, you, or Satoru (reluctantly, of course) in some way. He claimed it was for "warmth."

But he knows you as much as you know him. As he made his way to the house, you noticed something- his cursed energy was off. It was more powerful than usual. Of course, it could be a good thing- perhaps he was doing really well in school, but his downcast eyes and even broodier vibe are telling you otherwise. "What's wrong?"

Megumi leans back on the couch, sighs, and contemplates. He stares at your wall that is decorated with framed pictures and pictures you memories from his childhood. You've even framed pictures of his drawings- usually doodles of his shikigami.

He stands abruptly. "Never mind," he dismisses. "I don't wanna- I don't want to talk about it. It's childish and stupid-"

"Stupid enough to make you retreat back home?" You ask. You watch as your question sinks in through Megumi. Slowly, he sits back down. You sit on the other end of the couch.

"What's wrong, 'Gumi?" You ask again. "Tell me." I can fix it. Whatever it is, if I can fix it, I will shouts your inner thoughts.

"I lost one of them," Megumi whispers.

“Oh, Megumi, I-” you say, racking your brain for something to say. Deaths in the jujutsu world is so common that when you’re within the industry for too long you get used to it. “Losing a colleague- this won’t be the first time, baby. Nor will it be the last.”

“No,” Megumi groans out frustrated. There are tears streaming down his cheeks that he angrily wipes away. “My dogs. I lost one. I- Yuki died.”

Your heart breaks at Megumi’s childhood name for his white demon dog. “‘Gumi, I’m so sorry-”

You move to his side of the couch, wide arms open. Megumi falls in, just like he did when he was small. Megumi feels himself melt in your hold, his walls and defenses crumbling away like ash.

Megumi refuses to cry at all times but when you have his arms wrapped around him he finds himself not caring at all. It was like his heart recognized you too.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you pretend not to feel his tears.

You hold him until he lets you. Megumi is the one to pull away, and you never do. This boy js fickle with touch, and you always leave the duration of your hugs to his discretion.

You cup his face in your hands, thumbs swiping away the tear tracks. You’ve never seen Megumi this heartbroken before.

“I told him to scout the area and I just left him for a second- and he-” Megumi hiccups. “His head was on the wall. The curse threw his head so hard it made the pavement crack.”

You do not pretend to know his pain for you will never feel it. Megumi’s divine dogs were his first achievement. He smiled the first time he summoned them, even as Satoru threw him in the air in joy. Those dogs would trail after him in the house, obeying his command. You would turn a blind eye to the spare pieces of meat Megumi throws under the table just so they could taste cooked beef.

Megumi would refuse to let them go even when he slept, and was upset that they would disappear when he rested or lowered his guard. As a present, Satoru gifted him customized stuffed animals of the dogs that he never slept without. You were sure he packed those toys with him in the dorm.

When Tsumiki volunteers to run errands, Megumi would summon a dog and follow her. Just in case. They both always came back safe.

“He just did what I commanded, he was good, he was a good boy.” Megumi said, in a quieter voice.

“The best,” you agreed. “But didn’t Yuki merge with the other one? Isn’t that how your technique works when one of them dies?”

“It’s stupid-” A glare from you was all it took. “It’s not the same,” he admits. “I just want my dogs back.”

You give him a sad smile. You pull him close for another hug, and he melts in your arms once again but this time, he does not pull away. You hold him until his tears have dried, until his breaths slowed down, and until his eyes closed for a well deserved rest.

extra note: yuki apparently means snow in japanese. get it? snow=white demon dog (im not creative at all yall)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #jjk #parental megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro

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drowning-in-neon · 2 years

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yeah it’s another vent in the tags post sorry lmao ill try and spam reblog stuff to make up for it

#vents #i've just been missing a lot lately. like. memories and places and people and shit.#i really miss my cat #but i also miss seph (name changed for privacy) like. a lot. and that's almost worse than missing my cat #because at least with her; yeah of course i miss her and it's normal even if it sucks ass but with seph; missing them is almost worse #because i also end up so pissed off that i miss them because jesus christ. i love them so godamn much and things aren't the way they used to #be; which is arguably a good thing - they've grown so much and have come so far and are living their best life and i'm happy for them #for that; but despite still seeming to want to be friends they don't feel the way they used to for me and they are allowed not to but it #fucking hurts like hell to be the one who still loves him so goddamn much and somehow be unable to get over it. like. i want to get over him #so bad; so i can just let myself be friends with him without all sorts of little things reminding me of the pain but nothing seems to work #i've tried going on dates with other people and just generally trying to see other people; i've tried journaling and i've tried all sorts of #shit and nothing works. and i can't bring myself to step away either because like. one i don't think it's gonna work because even #though seph has BPD spells where he splits and blocks everyone on social media - sometimes for months on end - it never #helped; i still felt exactly the same after a separation like that. so even that doens't work and even if it did work i wouldn't want to do #it because i'm just. i'm afraid i'll lose them. i'm afraid thta one of these separations; whether by him or by me; it'll be the last time #hell i just went to instagram and found out that his account was private and i somehow wasn't following him anymore so i'm assuming i just #missed another split. but he genuinely seems to want to stay friends; if only for the fact he always comes back. despite how many people he #has simply blocked and not brought back after a social media blackout; i've stayed. i genuinely believe he wants to be friends and i am #okay with that; i want that too; i don't want to imagine a world that he isn't in. but it hurts. i don't try and force it because that's #fucked up but even so; it's hard to let myself enjoy a friendship when i'm still heartbroken that it isn't the same connection we used to #have. i wish i could just forget but i can't; every time i think i've gotten over him; every time i think 'oh hey i havent been #in much pain about seph lately; i think i've finally moved on hell yeah' my stupid brain is like SYKE lmao you dumbass you really thought #you were done? nope every little fucking thing reminds you of him and it's gonna still hurt because like. fuck you that's why #and some nights i just can't stop thinking about all the littlest damn things. the way he took a greyhound nine hours just to come visit me #in person for the first time after we connected so deeply on fucking faecbook dating of all places; the way we were so awkward #sitting at a booth in a pizza and bar combo place that night; the way he would tease me about how i tasted like castor oil because i was #trying to solve a bad case of chapped lips but even so he couldn't stop kissing me; the way his eyes sparkled every time he got passionate #about music; sitting at his feet while he wrote a short poem in golden marker on my brand new guitar #and it. it just hurts. and i wish it was the way it used to be. but i also don't because he's so much healthier now. i guess i just wish i #could have the good stuff but not keep the bad. i dunno. it just hurts. i miss him so fucking much and i hate it.

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httpisaoki · 1 month

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'till death do us part ft. yu jimin

sypnosis. after 10 years of marriage, even if it was only an arranged marriage, you thought that she would at least stay loyal. least to say the sounds coming from your shared bedroom last night weren't just nothing. and the moment you shove the divorce papers to her face, she couldn't let you go just like that, can't she?

tags. domestic au, non-idol au, ceo au, cheating, angst, crying, wlw, marriage

warnings. cheating, arranged marriage, karina CHEATEDDD, oooo you mad mad, crying, ANGST. (that's all i think?)

-> part two. not proofread!

last night was foggy, karina had woken up naked, her fling right next to your side of the bed, an empty feeling in her stomach. she shouldn't have done that, she thinks, but it's too late. it's happened more than she can count and she knows that the fling she had wasn't going to end anytime soon. she feels guilty but you never liked her, or did you?

Now she stands across from you, the silence in the room makes her nervous. the papers in your hands made her anxious, she couldn't lose you. the tension in the room could be sensed miles away, you were mad--- and she knew it.

it's all clear in the way you stood against the door, a hint of anger radiating off your body. karina was scared, she felt the sweat on her palms, her eyes fixed on those papers on your hands as if she could burn a hole through them if she stared long enough.

"please... just... wait a moment." she pleaded.

why should she get her way when she had been the one who betrayed your trust? her infidelity wasn't excusable in any way. "I don't have all day." the tone of you voice cold, she knew if you was angry— she wouldn’t have a chance.

she wanted to whimper in fear, the coldness of your voice could send her to tears, a tone that would make even the most powerful man cower in fear. she could feel the blood rush out of her face, her legs shaking, she just couldn't let you go.

and then the moment of realization hit her, the tone of your voice, the way you were standing and the glare of your eyes had reminded her of something, a memory that she'd tried so hard to bury away..

"Please..."

she wanted to cry, but the fear of you turning her down stopped her tears from falling. she'd cheated because of her own problems, her own loneliness, and her own issues but she was still your wife. she was still yours.

she begged again, a tone of desperation in her voice.

the last thing she'd want was to lose you... but she knows it was her fault.

the words that would come out of her mouth right now could make or break your marriage.

she takes a deep breath, looking up at you, trying not to cry from the fear that was rising in her chest, a knot tying in her throat.

"please... i know that i cheated but..."

"stop." the ice in your tone was unforgiving, the lack of patience in those eyes would make just about everyone shut up and listen. you weren't going to be easily manipulated anymore.

"i don't want to hear it." she flinches at the tone of your voice, her eyes fluttering for a moment before she forces herself to look up again.

her eyes fill with sadness, those pleading words were stuck in her throat, a lump taking place in her mouth.

"after 10 years, really? I knew this would never work out." the anger in you voice had made her shiver. "but to think that you'd cheat with jaewook, one of my employees too, huh?" the venom in your voice forced out a bitter chuckle. "h-he..." the words stuck in her throat for a minute, she couldn't believe that you knew of her affair partner, then she shook her head slightly. "yes, him.."

the fact that you knew his name made her want to shrink. your eyes pierced through her, you knew every single detail of this entire ordeal. you knew how often this had happened between the two of them, you knew she had betrayed you the moment she accepted a drink during the business dinner.

her lips parted for a moment, her brain scrambled, panic and fear consumed her. she could see your anger now, you knew everything, she was caught red-handed. "you...you know everything.." her voice cracked as she spoke. You scoffed, "you didn't think that I'd be stupid enough to not keep tabs on you?" you smiled sarcastically,

"we had agreed on none of us seeing anyone and being faithful even if our marriage was arranged, right? I had to make sure. and I was right, you didn't stick to your promise, karina." the way her name rolled off your tongue, the tone of disgust as you said it.

the way you had said her name, her own name, with a tone of disgust made her want to sob. you knew everything, every single detail of this affair, every detail that she thought she'd hidden so brilliantly.

she gulped, her throat drying out at the fact that you were well aware that she's betrayed your trust. you had kept track of her, you had kept her in your palms the whole time and she was foolish enough to do such thing under your nose.

"beg all you want, I don't care." you spoke harshly, "you know how I don't tolerate cheating." the cruel nature of your response made her flinch. her lips parted for a moment before she said, "don't you care about me? don't you...don't you love me?"

as much as she was guilty for her infidelity, she still hoped that you liked her, that you cared for her, that you saw her as your wife despite the arranged marriage. but the tone of your voice made it clear that you didn't, that the only thing you were capable of feeling was anger, hate-- disgust.

you scoffed, "why didn't you asked yourself that before you went into bed with him?" a hint of sarcasm in your tone. "don't..." she wanted to sob, the humiliation of you reminding her of her own infidelity was torture. but the fact that she did it to herself was even worse, she was the only one to blame. but it's not like she had done it out of pure lust... no, it was her need of validation-- a need for some form of connection with a man. she'd felt so lonely in the marriage, but that wasn't your fault. she gulped, her eyes fixed on yours as the tears fell.

"Who do you think took you home after all those stressful nights that you drank until you passed out? who do you think supported your company after all those years? was it him or was it me?" your tone was cold but the look in your eyes showed that you were hurt.

"it was you..." she was reminded of all the times you'd picked her up from work after she finished her work, the times you've carried her to bed when she had passed out, the times she'd called you in tears. she owed her success to you, to your support.

a knot took place in her throat but the words couldn't come out, she couldn't find a single excuse for her infidelity. "you did...everything for me."

You hummed, "just because I didn't show it doesn't mean I didn't care. you out of all people should know that." you let out a shaky breath.

she gulped, she couldn't believe that she had thrown away 10 years of marriage for another man. your cold demeanour, your unapproachable nature, all of it was a wall she had slowly started chipping away over the years but the fact that she was the one who initiated that affair was the saddest thing of all.

"please, I'm sorry..."

"can we give ourselves another chance? please...we can...we can start over..." her knees were nearly giving out at that point, the thought of losing you was far too terrifying. but she was the one to mess up the marriage...

but you had been so kind the whole time, despite the fact you didn't show affection, she could see that you cared in your own way. she just had to prove that she was worthy of your attention-- your love.

"fill out the papers, karina." your voice was soft, wanting to get this over with already, you tossed her the papers. "no...wait..."

her heart was racing, she couldn't stand this anymore. the thought of losing you was enough to make her knees buckle, her heart sinking to her stomach. but the papers...

they were for the divorce, your divorce papers...

she looked down at them, her fingers trembling, the tears running down her face, and she thought of one thing and one thing alone.

she should've never cheated.

-> idk if this is a teaser for an upcoming series of mine or if this is just my karina rip post idk but yeah, thanks for the support !! :)

#aoki's works #aespa x reader #yu jimin x reader #karina x reader #kpop x reader #angst

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vickyvicarious · 1 year

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"For your mother's sake."

It hits so hard, on multiple levels. First, what this might mean for her. It's her final effort, the most impactful thing she says after religion, superstition, outright pleading on her knees and crying all fail. She knows that she can't stop him from going, but at the very least she will try her best to protect him as much as she can. She places the crucifix around his neck herself, doesn't just hand it to him.

Did she lose a child to Dracula in the past? Is she seeing echoes of her own son in Jonathan's face? Or perhaps there have been brave young men who tried to fight back against him, who deliberately went to the castle and never returned. Maybe Jonathan is the first person she's met who is actually trying to go there, and while she knows it can only end in his death, the idea of letting anyone go willingly to that evil place is more than she can bear. She's giving up a piece of her own protection. The Count has been sending letters to her husband; he was the one who suggested Jonathan stay here. He knows of her. If she shows any resistance it could mean greater danger for herself, and giving Jonathan her crucifix means losing a powerful totem of self-protection. If he actually listened to her warning, she can probably expect a terrible fate of her own; maybe even just giving him the crucifix alone would be enough to ensure that. But again, whether he reminds her of her own lost son or just because he doesn't know what he's getting himself into, she can't bear to do nothing. She places herself in the role of his mother here. "For my sake," she's saying, "let me do what little I can to save you. Please."

Jonathan is an orphan. We don't know the circumstances of his childhood, but it's possible that he never even knew his mother. (It's my headcanon.) Even if he did, she has been gone for a long time now. And yet these are the words he can't argue with in the end. He was already taking her seriously, and trying to treat her with respect. Her warnings were obviously distressing to him, but there's no way he can actually turn back now. His livelihood depends on this trip, he has no actual evidence to justify leaving, and he also wants so badly to live up to Mr. Hawkins' trust in him. He is already "thinking of his father" (or the closest he has) when he says he has to go to the castle. And yet, the care and fear and love this woman is showing for him hits so hard. I wonder if he is thinking of his actual mother when he accepts the crucifix. Whether the concept of her or an actual memory... Or maybe he too is placing her in the role of his mother here. Maybe, in keeping the crucifix (and not just with him, but around his neck where she placed it, even as he rides away) he is saying yes to that implicit request as well. "I'll let you care for me. I'll accept it gratefully." It's the first motherly care he has probably felt in many long years.

In this book, children are placed in terrible danger again and again, and most of the time they can't be saved. Parents and parental figures are equally doomed, leaving our heroes all orphaned in a sense, unable to rely on any greater source of wisdom or comfort. They have to take things into their own hands and deal with the problem alone, despite still being caught up in grief for what they've lost - a kind of coming of age in that sense. There's even a literal version of this happening with both Arthur and Jonathan (and Mina) specifically, when their father figures die and leave them with sudden new responsibilities. And of course, the inheritances from these father figures help in distinct and immensely useful ways, even as they remain absent from the story throughout. They haunt the margins at best until death steals them away completely, and their illnesses tend to serve to divide our heroes from one another when they needed to be united sooner. I personally don't count van Helsing as a father figure really, but if you do then he is the only one who manages to be around and be directly helpful (and even then, he's unable to save Lucy), even though all the fathers we hear from are loved and loving. But we do actually meet a few mothers, and they are usually unable to alter the story despite being more present. Their efforts to save their children are misdirected and only bring about their own death as well, in the end. Lucy's mother seems to mean well but everything she does directly makes everything harder; the mother at the castle later tries to avenge her child possibly against the wrong person, and in any case is unable to succeed. But here, the innkeeper's wife with her crucifix manages what no other mother does. Even though she assumes this to be another wasted effort (in fact, she can't bear to remain in the room with him afterwards; re: Dracula did such a good job with the hopelessness in her voice when she says the 'mother's sake' line), her assistance helps Jonathan to survive. His 'inheritance' from this momentary mother-figure isn't just the physical crucifix, though that is useful (and also the only inheritance a mother leaves for a child throughout the book, even when it would be expected and easy and make complete sense to do so, ahem). It's also the first and the most knowledgeable and the most effective aid given to a 'child' throughout the entire book.

#dracula daily #re: dracula #dracula daily spoilers #crucifix lady #jonathan harker #dracula meta #my meta

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heliads · 1 year

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whilst requests are open I have an idea to put forth after years of us discussing this man. Harry Hook x reader based on 'the way I loved you' by taylor swift. Childhood friends to lovers, to strangers to lovers again mayhaps? idk babes. Love you though, I hope your requests don't get out of hand again so you can stay stress-free!

eva i love you for sending this in, please let me talk about harry hook. he's insane and i cannot get enough of him

masterlist

You are lying on your bed in a dorm room in Auradon Prep, and if you close your eyes, you can almost convince yourself that you’re somewhere else entirely. Your roommate hung a lantern in the window, and with the glass pane cracked halfway, the light sways back and forth on the ceiling, painting shifting golden silhouettes on the perfectly painted ceiling. If you let the present world fade into the corners of your consciousness, you can pretend there are flaws in the endless pristine magnificence. You could even pretend that you aren’t on the continent at all.

No daughter of a princess should ever be anywhere but in Auradon. That’s the way it should have been, but you ran the second you got the chance and ended up amongst criminals and sons of thieves instead of with other prettily polished girls. Is it a terrible thing to admit that you miss it more than anything?

You shouldn’t, that’s the worst part. You left them willingly. As time passes, though, you’re starting to think that what you thought was one great fight with the so-called lowlifes of this world might have been the greatest time of your life. It’s like fording a raging river; while you’re in the thick of the waves, you think you might drown, but when you’re safe on the dry shore again, all you can think of is the coolness of the water, how the flood had sparkled like a thousand sapphires.

You shut your eyes and then you’re back again, just a kid, happier than you’ve ever been and twice as free. It had been easy to leave, actually, easier than it should have been. In your family, there were enough siblings and cousins and relatives that just one girl could go unnoticed. It’s not that Ariel intentionally tried to blur all of her daughters together in her memory, but it couldn’t be helped. She was one of seven daughters, and you were one of many as well. It wasn’t her fault, no, but it was your excuse anyway.

It turns out that nobody bats their eyes at a mermaid’s daughter when she’s running headlong towards the surf. You dove into the waves and came up to shore miles away. Your mother was terrified of losing any one of her children to the endless sea just as her father lost her to land, so none of you were allowed to stray that close to the beach. Of course you would see how far you could go the second you were unsupervised. Of course you would push the limits just to learn where you would break.

You ended up scaring the daylights out of a boy in a small sailing craft not far from the limits of the Isle of the Lost. You hadn’t meant to go that far, but you were giddy with the feeling of doing something wrong and he was trying to escape as well. He’d offered for you to hitch a ride with him so long as the wind was good. You thought that suited you well enough, so you took the hand he gave you and listened when he introduced himself as Harry Hook.

He said his name the same way you did, emphasis on the first name and not the last. It’s the exact opposite way any child of a prince or princess does, and you think that might have been why you liked him from the start. The sun shone overhead, and you talked to him about running away and taking to the sea and all the things you wanted to do if you just had time.

Neither of you wanted to leave, not really, but of course all good things have to come to an end at some point. You watched the sun sink lower and lower in the sky with all the dread of a doomed man going to the gallows. You must have looked seriously unhappy, because you remember Harry laughing and saying that you could meet him tomorrow, if you wanted. You wanted that more than anything, as it turned out, so you eagerly agreed.

Harry took you as far as he could towards Auradon again, and watched as you dove into the water. You can still remember how he’d watched you go, the way his eyes had tracked the water as if he could look at you forever, even after you disappeared from view. He stayed there for a long time before finally forcing his ship to turn around again. You’d know; you stayed there on the ocean floor watching him back until he was gone.

The next day, you slipped away to meet him again, and the next day, and the next. When you were caught trying to go out to the sea sometime in the second month, you fought until you could find a suitable excuse. Your mother was perfectly fine to let you go to some private school by the coast, it would mean one less child to keep track of. The papers were signed and agreements made before you could so much as blink.

You, of course, never went to that school. Instead, you showed up on Harry’s ship just like usual and told him that you wouldn’t be going back. Harry had been talking about a friend of his, Uma, and how she was forming a crew of her own larger pirate ship. You wanted in, and he couldn’t be more delighted to take you home.

You think you replayed the memory of him introducing you to Uma about a thousand times over in your head, and you’ll do it again tonight. The slats of the dock had been slippery under your feet, but you knew that so long as he was by your side, you would never once fall. Uma had looked at you questioningly, blue-green hair cascading down her shoulders, but Harry had hardly been able to tear his eyes away from you.

“This is Y/N,” he’d said, “she’s my friend.” He’d imbued the word with all the hope and grief and joy you could ever possibly attach to such an idea. Harry smiled as he said it, took your hand, let his eyes open comically wide so you’d know he was just joking when he mentioned that he’d jump overboard if Uma didn’t take you on.

Luckily for him, Uma had no problems with you. She saw something in you, the same sort of restless troublemaking spirit the rest of them had in spades. Before you knew it, you were quite literally learning the ropes of how to help out on Uma’s ship.

From there on out, everything was perfect. You watched the sun rise and set from the deck of a ship you could call home. When the weather was good, you spent all night and day out in the grasp of the world, and when the storms raged on, you hid belowdecks with the best friends you’d ever had. They wanted you, not your mother in a younger form, but you. Just you. It was wonderful.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you would end up falling in love with Harry. You were hurtling towards that fate as fast as you could, running and sprinting towards the inevitability of it all. No one compared. No one had half as much influence over you as him. And, when he finally managed to tell you how he felt, you thought you might be able to take over the entire world with the sheer force thrumming through your veins.

Perhaps you should have taken that as a warning. The universe doesn’t care much for happy endings, you’ve learned, even for its fairytale heroes. Princesses grow old and fade into obscurity. Princes forget how to save the day. Villains live out their days with fantastic dreams that will never be achieved. You learn how to deal with adequacy, and pretend that it is enough for you.

You loved Harry because he was wild, your untamed, brilliant boy, but then you hated him for it, too. Just once, you wanted to walk into a room and know what he was going to say before he said it. Every word from his mouth was a dagger in your chest. Some days, he was a hopeless romantic, others, he was mad and uncontrollable. He never hurt you, but at least the pain of a blow would be something you could depend on and understand.

Your mother tried to find you about a year or two after you took to the sea, and you used that as your excuse to break up with him. Harry found out you would be returning to Auradon at the exact same time as the rest of the crew. You think he might hate you for it still. You think he would have reason to hate you for a lot, actually, most importantly that you were never quite enough to match him.

So you slipped away from the ship with the worst kind of goodbye, one that you did not mean, and you never looked back. You greeted your mother and agreed when she said that it was time you took up your studies at Auradon Prep. You joined the endless number of would-be princesses and princes and pretended that it was all you had ever needed in life. If you woke up sometimes with the sound of waves crashing in your ears, or felt the steady rock of a ship beneath your feet as you dreamt, you ignored it. Such illusions only belong to the past, and they will never be yours again.

You still have a jacket of his in the corner of your room; you brought it all the way over here, anywhere you go. You never had the heart to give it back. You don’t know that you could if you tried. It still smells like saltwater and laughter and sun-bleached him, and you have absolutely no idea what you will do when that familiar scent fades.

Still, you weren’t able to completely erase his influence on you. Children of villains arrived at Auradon Prep, and instead of running away from them, you befriended them as quickly as you could. Mal thinks like you do, her and the rest. You laugh like them– not quite as polite as you should be, but loud and beautiful and real. You hang out with them all the time and, when they talk about how much they wish they were back on the Isle of the Lost, you lie to yourself that you do not agree.

You never told them the full scope of your exploits, but they know part of it, enough that one day Mal knocks at your door and tells you that she needs your help on a pirate ship. She needs to get something from the Isle of the Lost, a mysterious ingredient for a spell, but they have to keep it a secret so they can’t use the bridge. The next best option, then, is to sail. It’s not a far destination, so it would work.

A thousand memories of sun and surf flash through your head, and you find yourself agreeing before Mal can so much as finish trying to convince you to go along with her plan.

Mal blinks in surprise. “Really? You’re sure? I thought you would have mixed feelings about that time in your life.”

You breathe out slowly, trying to calm yourself. “Certain things scare me more than others.” Certain people, that is.

Mal winces as she leads you out of your dorm and back into the hallway. “Actually, we might have a problem with that.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Mal casts you a nervous glance. “Before I continue, remember that you already agreed. I’m not letting you leave now.”

You laugh. “I’m starting to get worried. No, Mal, I’m not backing out. Just tell me already.”

Mal holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Never doubted you for a second. It’s just, well, we don’t have a ship at our disposal, obviously, so we’re borrowing one from Uma.”

You shrug. “I have no problem with that. Uma’s great.”

“Yeah,” Mal says, drawing out her syllables in an attempt to buy herself time, “but she insisted on having a skeleton crew present. You know, to make sure we wouldn’t run aground or something like that. That includes her first mate.”

Your head snaps up. “Harry’s going to be there?”

You can feel Mal’s gaze on you, but you refuse to look at her. Instead, you’re scanning the hallway, every door you pass, sure that he’s going to be waiting for you, leaning casually against a wall or peering out of a window or somewhere you could find if you just looked hard enough.

“He is,” Mal confirms, “is that going to be an issue?”

Yes. “No, I’ll be fine.”

You can’t really tell if Mal believes you or not, but then you’re rounding the corner and the rest of the VKs are in front of you, and the conversation must be dropped as Mal explains her plan. You’re going to join the four of them and Uma’s guys in piloting the ship over to the Isle of the Lost, where you’ll search for a talisman hidden somewhere on the island. Once the talisman is secured, you’ll head back. Easy as that.

Mal leads your group to a boathouse on the southern part of the shore. You take up a position in a corner of the room, hidden by the shadows. You suppose that’s why the pirates don’t see you immediately when they come in a matter of minutes later. You suppose you chose that place on purpose so you could get a good look at Harry without him seeing you.

He looks just the same. You don’t know why you thought he would change, that he would have to look different to explain how different you feel, but he’s the same. It makes a soft smile rise to your lips at the same time as the weight of all your memories pierces you through the heart.

Uma’s talking to Mal, doubt lacing her every word. “I hope you have a good idea of how to run a ship, because I don’t think any of your friends have the slightest clue what to do on the sea. That’s my territory, in case you forgot.”

“I know,” Mal says, temper just as strong as always, “that’s why I brought a friend.”

Harry arches a brow. “What friend?”

“That would be me,” you say, and step out of the shadows to face him.

For a moment, you swear that time stands still. Harry’s breath catches in his chest as he looks at you for the first time in months. He has never been one to show off weakness, always laughing off injury or claiming not to feel pain, but in this instant, you can see the shock lancing through his eyes, wracking his frame until he has no choice but to stand there and stare.

Uma breaks the silence, wrapping an arm around your shoulders with a grin. “Y/N, good to see you! I take it back, Mal. Y/N could captain a fleet of ships with her eyes closed.”

It’s easy, after that, to pull yourself together. Uma’s friendship is something familiar, a rock you can stand on. “I appreciate your confidence,” you reply, “good to see you too, by the way.”

“Of course,” Uma says dismissively, then adds somewhat unnecessarily, “Hey, Harry, look who it is!”

Harry swallows hard when Uma addresses him, tries to pretend he’s just like normal. “Yeah, I saw. Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey yourself,” you say quietly.

Evie looks at you nervously, then quickly speaks up. “So, should we get to the ship? We only have so much time before people start looking for us.”

Uma rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you guys are too popular, I get it. Ship’s docked outside.”

Harry takes this as his excuse to bolt out, and you watch him go with wide eyes. Evie heads over to you as soon as everyone’s attention is off you again. “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” you whisper back through gritted teeth. Of course it is a lie. You couldn’t be more affected by this.

You avoid Harry the entire duration of the trip over to the Isle of the Lost. It’s difficult, especially when you push off from the shore and the wind is on your face again and everything is just like you remember. You tug a few lines into place, tie them down with the knots he taught you, and race to the bow as soon as you’re free.

You forgot just how wonderful it is to sail. You laugh delightedly as the ship picks up speed, skipping over the waves as the wind snaps the sails almost to bursting. This close to the surface of the water, you can’t hear anything, but you sense something anyway, and that’s how you know to lean back up and look to your side to see Harry standing there, smiling as he takes in the sight of you.

Your laugh dries up in a moment and you feel frozen there, trapped in this moment with him. Someone calls your name a second later and you’re able to spirit away to safety, but you can still feel his gaze burning like a brand into your back every moment until the ship docks at the Isle.

Mal announces that you’ll be splitting up in pairs so you can properly canvas the island for the talisman. Before you can look at her or Evie, Uma suggests that you and Harry work together, and the rest are already partitioned into pairs before you can fight it.

Fine, then. You’re certain he’s put her up to this, but you won’t give him a scene if he wants it. Instead, you march resolutely towards your assigned location, and pretend that you’re just really invested in finding the talisman so you can’t hear him when he tries to talk to you.

Eventually, Harry has enough and puts his hand on your arm, trying to get your attention. You spin back around by reflex, dagger in hand and held to his throat before Harry can get so much of a word out. The Isle has always brought out a different part of you, more of a villain than any princess’ daughter.

Instead of looking afraid, Harry just laughs. Usually, this is the time at which you’d join in, but you narrow your eyes and hold strong.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he says when he’s finally able to get his laughter under control, “I don’t think your friends would like it very much if you killed someone on your little vacation to the island.”

You glare at him. “We’re not friends anymore, sweetheart, or have you forgotten that already?”

“When your knife is to my throat? Couldn’t forget that if I tried. Out of curiosity, why are we enemies again? I seem to remember you liking me very well just a couple of months ago.” Harry says, reaching up to tap your forearm where you still hold your blade.

You pull your dagger away but stand there still, thrumming with the urge to run. “We’re too different. You’re a villain, and I’m a perfect angel, obviously.”

Harry grins. “What, just because you’re the daughter of a princess? You’ve never let that come in between us before. You’re not Ariel, you’re Y/N, and I have always loved that about you.” Something like doubt flickers across his face. “Is that why you left? You thought you had to become more like her?”

You glance away from him, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes. “I left because I had to. We weren’t working out.”

“Why not?” Harry asks, and suddenly he’s the one in control now, he’s the one stepping forward until your back hits the wall and you have nowhere to run, “What was so wrong with us, Y/N?”

Your hands are shaking. Harry takes the knife from you, carefully sliding it back in the holster on your side. His hands linger there a second longer, and when he finally takes them away, you can’t tell if you’re glad of it or deeply unhappy that you can no longer feel him.

“We could never work,” you insist.

“Why not?” He replies, “Show me we could never work. Prove me wrong.”

Harry Hook has always been somewhat of an enigma to you, just as unpredictable as the sea that both of you love, but somehow you know it’s coming when Harry leans forward and kisses you. For a moment, you consider pushing him away, and then you realize that you do not hate this, not him, not in the slightest, not at all.

Surrender is not the worst thing in the world. Sometimes it’s like the release of a sail to the wind, the acceptance that even though you let a person go, they will always come back to you. You surrender the last of your inhibitions and you kiss him back. It is everything you missed, the fighting and the laughing, the good times and the bad all in one. It is all that you love about him and more, what you didn’t realize you held most dear until you were gone.

Harry breathes quietly against your lips and you breathe back, one small circle of in and out and together. He grins, says, was that really so bad? And you laugh and tell him to shut up, so he does, but only by kissing you again. The island can wait, the talisman and the life waiting back for you at school. You have your boy back, and you could not care about anything else.

requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!

disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @/thatfangirl42, @amortensie

#harry hook #harry hook imagines #harry hook x reader #harry hook oneshot #descendants #descendants imagines #descendants x reader #descendants oneshot #disney #disney imagines #disney x reader #disney oneshot #descendants harry #descendants harry imagines #descendants harry x reader #descendants harry oneshot

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jester089 · 6 months

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Locked away

TADC crew x abstracted reader. But with a twist, you'll have to read to find out what the twist is. Or you can just go to the end I'll write it there for those who want context.

Caine

When you abstracted it was sad but Caine honestly wasn't surprised. You were showing signs for a while after all. He did his best to make fun adventures and distractions but in the end you were lost. He moved on rather quickly I'm sad to say. You aren't the first person he enjoyed the company of to lose their mind. He moved on like always, no real differences showing themselves. That is until the next person that abstracted. He opened up the cellar to get them out of the way only for a non abstracted you to crawl out. You were shivering and had a thousand yard stare. But you were alive! He quickly swoops down and starts making sure your ok. He asks so many questions only to not get any answers. Or even a reaction out of you. It took some time and the others mentioning things for him to realize that you weren't there anymore. You were physically, you were sitting right in front of him as he speaks. But you weren't there mentally, you were gone. With a heavy heart and regret he puts you back in the cellar. It feels wrong to do but he can't just keep your emotionless reactionless body up where everyone can see it. Chance of abstraction 0.5/10

Gangle

Don't do this to the poor sweetheart Watching your glitchy form get put into the cellar like all the others broke her. Just you abstracting was enough to completely change Gangle. She went from not doing ok. To severely depressed and on the verge of giving up. She would mope around and never really interact. Her comedy mask long forgoten and collecting dust in your old room, sitting on your old bed. She visits your room every now and again but can never get past looking at the door. To many memories, to much hurt. When she heard you were ok and not abstracted from Pomni and Ragatha she didn't believe it, she couldn't believe it. But after enough convincing she went to go see you. And they weren't lying. There you were. Sitting on the ground staring at nothing. Second she catches a glimpse of you she sprint and you full speed and glomps you. She wraps around you tight enough to suffocate you, and peppers your face with kisses. She doesn't notice through the tears of joy or lovely feeling of holding you again that you aren't reacting to anything. But once the high of seeing you again wears off she'll realize. Just give her some time to be happy. She just got you back and your already gone again. Caine said you were broken beyond his help. Watching you get forced into the cellar again broke Gangle. Don't worry about the cellar being lonely and cold anymore, she's going to be joining you soon. Chance of abstraction 10/10

Zooble

You were the only one in this colorful hell that she felt close too. That she trusted. And your gone, just like so many before you. But you aren't like all those others. You were special. You mattered to her. She rarely showed up to adventures and rarely talked before. Now you would be lucky to see her outside of her room. Or yours. You just made her feel so complete. Like she isn't a random mess of parts. When she hears that you back she doesn't believe it. She doesn't even go to check because she truly believes the others are just trying to get her out of her room. She doesn't know that you were actually back. But that also means she doesn't have to go through loosing you again. She finds out a week or two later and you did actually come back and feels horrible. You were there, and she didn't even show up. Chance of abstraction 7.5/10

Ragatha

I feel like despite her go lucky and up beat personality she's one of the if not the closest to abstraction. She just doesn't show it cause she is supposed to be the well held together one, the anchor for the others. You were her little ray of sunshine. And not that digital sun outside, just your presence made her feel like she wasn't trapped in a computer. But your not here anymore. You haven't been for a long time. But shhh don't tell her that. When you abstracted Ragatha fell into her delusions. She lives in her memories of the real world, and of you two. When your brought back she doesn't even really react cause in her mind you've been there the whole time. She knows that isn't true. But it's her last chance to not lose herself. She wants to stay strong for you, and for the others. But seeing you in front of her, but it not actually be you. Just a husk of what you once were. Seeing YOU. Actual you being shoved into the cellar breaks her. It can go one of two ways. Either she goes fully delusional, or she abstracts right then and there. Chance of abstraction 8.5/10

Jax

Now Jax is an interesting one as I can see it going one of three ways. 1. He gets 5x more bully like and starts acting like he actually wants the others dead and isn't just doing it cause he finds it funny. 2. Losing you completely changes him. After enough time he is actually able to get over you and improves as a person to honor you. 3. Acts like it doesn't even happen and is the same as before. But if anyone brings you up he either gets violent, depressed, or both. For the sake of this I'm going to go with two as it's the most f#*&$@% up. Jax missed you. He missed you a lot. But he's a tough rabbit and isn't just going to give up cause your gone. That's Gangle's job, The little push over. He mourns losing you for a while but is surprisingly able to get over it. Once he is ready to join the others again he acts differently. He doesn't bully or prank. And any jokes he says are incredibly light hearted. Like he's scared, of what? The others don't know. Ragatha appreciates the change but knows that it only happened because he's been put though a lot of pain. He starts helping on adventures and doing his best to cheer everyone up. But then he sees you again. Sees you in the flesh not in a dream, or a nightmare. He wants so badly to run up to you and give you a big ol hug and take you back to his room for cuddles. But he can see in your eyes and the way your breathing. While that is your body. That isn't you. As he watches Caine put you back in the cellar he starts glitching and holding on to his head like it'll split if he doesn't. But before anyone can comfort him or ask if he's ok he's back up and just as cheerful as ever. From that day on he didn't allow himself to feel anything. Good, bad, neutral. None of it. He loved you. And look where that got him. Chance of abstraction 3/10

Pomni

Yeah this'll end well. Totally. 100% So for Pomni it does kind of depend on how long she's been there. If she's still new it wont affect her as much as she didn't know you that well. If she's been there a while then she's going down with the ship. Her ship. You. Pomni was still pretty new to the circus and the digital world. But with you and Ragatha's constant reassurance and help she got used to it rather quickly. You and Pomni got close enough to start dating getting far enough into it to ask Caine for date nights Be warned, He can and will watch you two go out. But just as she was starting to feel comfortable with this place and happy to be with you, she lost you. She spends most of her time going over every single memory you two had together. And the more she nit picks the more she feels like it's her fault. You had been here so long, you had done so well. Then she showed up. And now your gone and trapped in a dank cellar. But she's still here. If it wasn't for Ragatha she would have joined you in that cellar really soon but she trudged on. She was there. When you got pulled out of that hole. She was there watching you shiver on the floor mumbling about something. She was there when you got put back in. That was it, the final nail in the coffin. Well at least she wont have to suffer so much every day. Chance of abstraction 9.5/10 (The base for this is "your another person trapped in the digital world. And you were dating the character. But then you abstracted. Some how while trapped in that cellar you un-abstracted but you couldn't get out. So being trapped in a pitch black, cold, and wet place broke you mind. Only for you to be pulled out by Caine and break your S/O's mind. At least you two can live in hell together.") (Hope you enjoyed. I wrote this while high off my ass on coffee and sugar. So that's why it's so long.)

xoxo, Jester

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #caine x reader #gangle x reader #zooble x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #pomni x reader #heavy angst #not beta'd #noob author

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hollowingearth · 1 month

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I'm sorry but the more I think about the Rebirth ending the more I love it actually like. The whole trilogy has been a meta commentary of sorts and, specially, Aerith's death is at the epicenter of it. She both dies and doesn't die exactly because us, as an audience, want both things to happen.

People have been clamoring to be able to save Aerith since 1997, there were fake hidden hacks, AU fictions, retellings, everything. Everyone has been at Squeenix's doorsteps begging them to let us save her. Like, it's at a point where the "Square will let us save Aerith if you pay for the DLC" joke is much more than a decade old.

On the other side, there's this very expressive unwant for any change whatsoever from the source material. It's not a feeling that is exclusive to FF7 either, there's this very clear pushback against any new remake/adaptation that deviates, even slightly, from it's original. People don't want new content, they want the old one they experienced when they were younger, but prettier, they want to both feel the nostalgia and experience everything as if for the first time again.

From that camp, I think the most prominent argument is that FF7 is about loss, right? And they're not wrong. Aerith's death is the crux of the story, it's the very thing that made FF7 as known as it is, there would be no actual weight to what it's trying to tell if the heroine doesn't die in the middle of it, an unexpected, hurtful, avoidable death. What's the point of a narrative about grief if you can just... avoid losing someone? Avoid having it be cruelly taken from you?

And yet, you see, if want someone to die, if you want something to be taken from you, are you really losing it? In the original, part of the impact was that no one could see it coming, it was a straight representation about how death is sudden and takes away opportunity from you. Aerith doesn't go into the sleeping forest willing to make a sacrifice for the greater good, she has barely started her adventure, she makes a promise to go on the highwind, the group is one location away from finding out more about her ancestry and her family.

That's not true for the remake, tho. Everyone knows about her fate, about what is going to happen to her. That's probably the most spoiled moment in video game history. I personally knew about her death before I truly understood what Final Fantasy even was. So now we have an audience that is extremely aware of what, when and how her death is going to happen. That's why the Confluence of Worlds is put at that moment, because it's the single most expected moment in the entire triology, it's the one moment that made the narrative resonate so well.

The impact is impossible to recreate now, even for newer fans of the series. People want a 1:1 retranslation but such a thing would always be a gimmicky shadow of it's original. It's why the focus shifts, now the most emotionally impactful scene is not the killing of her but of her goodbye, in the church after the dream date. "Thank you," Aerith echoes "It's been fun", a callback to her conclusion on Remake where she says "I'm grateful for all the words we shared. All the moments and the memories. You've made me more happy than you know."

So she dies and she doesn't, both at the same time. Effectively in limbo now, narratively explained by lifestream shenaningans. We put her there ourselves, by refusing to move on, refusing to accept her death but also refusing to change, allowing a different outcome. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing, at least, Aerith's words sound like the very sincere feelings of the developers, who are grateful for all the love we all have powered into their work all these years.

I just love it so much, I could spend hours talking about it.

#ff7 rebirth #ff7 rebirth spoilers #ff7 remake #final fantasy vii #aerith gainsborough #aerith #meta analysis #ff7

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lyomeii · 9 months

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a mother’s care

-> warnings: yandere themes, afab! reader, death mentions, lightly spoiler from the manga, reader’s a mother and a little tired from the sorcerer worlds, reader can be seeing either as the biological mother or adoptive.

-> request by @rouecentric lyo!! lyo!! i saw that your requests were open and that you write for jjk!! so i wanted to ask if you could write how the first years (and maybe gojo??) would react to a reader that is not only yuji's mom, but also one of the best sorcerers of all time that could be toe to toe in a fight with gojo, but retired to take care of and raise yuji, but returned to being one because of her son's predicament? feel free to remove any characters you don't want to write and have a nice morning/day/night!!!!!

-> a/n: a request from roue themselves? let me do it instead of my tasks. so this was really nice to write it and im happy for it turned out, so I’m hope you will enjoy it, roue. and don’t forget to take care of yourself too :)

❥ everyone in the sorcerer community knew about you, not only one of the most powerful sorcerer of the modern times, but also a beloved person known. a lovely woman that put herself in danger to protect others, the many time when you got hurt by doing it brought you a few scars in your skin, yet it was not enough to stop the many marriage offers from the many sorcerers family, in fact, it only made more and more offers come at you and yet, all of them ended rejected by you.

❥ there is no denying that you are an important figure and once you completely vanished from it once you graduate from jujutsu high, many wonder where did you go. could it be that you were killed? kidnapped? those were plausible theories of course, but actually you just want to become a better mother.

❥ you got into a relationship with a great man, who not only loved you a lot, but treated you like a goddess. and with the relationship between the two of you becoming stronger, a baby entered the family. living the three of you was a calm and sweet life, nothing wrong was going on and yuji was growing like any children, yet you could feel something off about it.

❥ maybe it was the fact he was stronger than most children, i mean, yuji kicked the ball and almost took down a tree once he was ten. another occasion was that time he lift the coach by himself one day prior his fourteen birthday. however, you to ignore it, though that he was just a stronger boy for his age. his father, (before you become a single mother) did said that yuji is just a special boy, do that’s must it, right?

❥ his father was right, yuji is a special boy. once you received a call from a familiar friend who immediately request your presence at jujutsu high in behalf of your son’s recently events. arriving at that place brought many memories and seeing your beloved son inside that room, hearing of his future execution once he swallow sukuna’s fingers from the higher up and make things worse, his grandfather died just a few days ago.

❥ things aren’t easier, that’s why you return to being a sorcerer. yuji, well, was really shocked and surprised by your reveal, include of the others experience sorcerers talked about your past actions during your high school years. “you are so powerful!” his words and sparkling eyes are more than enough to make things better. too be closer with him, you decided to move to a residence nearby the school, not wanting to lose a moment in his life.

❥ someone who was way happier with your return was gojo. he literally hugged you once you confirmed that you would be staying around to take care of yuji, gaining even more hugs from him. even after years and incidents, he still almost the same boy you helped train years ago. the only difference being he is tall as a door now. making you feel so small and young even though you are older than him.

❥ the others were also quite happy to see you around once again, nanami looked at you like a ghost from the past and took a while before he gained courage to talk with you. a smile in your face was so sweet as you two interact and when yuji enters the conversation, the three of you look so cute together.

❥ now the students are shocked with your presence. none of them knew expected to yuji has a mother or the fact you are special grade sorcerer like their teacher. nobara was the loudest one to introduce herself while the others glare at her for not giving any personal space. maki was intrigued by the rumors of how excellent are you with swords and daggers, asking if you are willingly to train her for a few times.

❥ it’s clear the students have a soft for you despite being way more powerful than them, even yuji, the same boy you raised since he was little has become quite protective of you. ignoring how soft they are with you, it’s nice to taught them during school hours. making them learning new way to protect themselves is a nice way to bond, slightly making you an unofficial teacher at tokyo high.

❥ as times goes on, it’s clear how things are becoming more dangerous than ever before. yuji sometimes loses control over sukuna and hurts people over it, making you even more concerned about his state. sometimes, you wonder if you just could grab him and run away from all this mess. yet, you fear the many consequences over it and can only dream about it on your own thoughts.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere yuji itadori #yandere gojo satoru #yandere platonic #yandere platonic x reader #afab reader #yandere x female reader #x female reader #female y/n

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glitch-karma · 1 year

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They flirt with you while drunk ;)

I only did characters I think would actually drink

Also some of them a slightly spicy so here ya go simps (Talking to myself.)

Dazai

This is a semi-regular thing

"Y/n, belladonna, let's go back to my place~"

"Dazai.. PLEASE shut up."

At first, you thought it was sweet an cute; but now it's just something you have to deal with

Most of the time it ends with him falling asleep

But there's been a couple of times Kunikida has had to help you with him

Kunikida

Yosano convinced him to drink and unsurprisingly; He is a lightweight

He immediately got really goofy, startling you. Was this really Kunikida?

You tried helping him the best you could as he stumbled like a toddler and kept losing his own glasses

"Kida maybe you should sit down.."

He suddenly grabbed your hand and stared into your eyes

You were confused till you heard him mumble in a slur of words:

"You're stunning.. Have yous.. Always been this beautiful?"

All. Eyes. On. You.

You stared in shock as Kunikida still held your hand

After that, he passed out

You took him back to his apartment afterward

When he woke up the next morning and remembered what he said: he wanted to die.

Needless to say he apologized a million and one times

Yosano

Yosano is usually very good at holding her liquor, but this time she went a tad bit overboard

She was wobbling a lot and kept grabbing onto your waist, which you thought was cute

You held her while she kept stuttering and hiccuping like a goof

It was the end of the night and you were helping her home

You reached her apartment and were about to leave when she grabbed you by the collar, and basically straddled you in bed

"Don't be going so soon darling.. hicc.. You're so gorgeous I could cut you up.."

WHOAAAAAA

You were about a million shades of red as she ran her hands up and down your thighs

She started pulling your hair, forcing you to look into her eyes

At this point, you were ready to let anything happen

Just as your lips were about to touch, she fell asleep.

You sat there in shock

"Damnit... I was just getting excited."

The next morning you both had a nice breakfast and forgot everything that happened

Chuuya

Chuuya regularly drinks and with you, a bit of flirting is inevitable from him

You usually entertain it cause he's cute trying to flirt

But sometimes he'll get a little spicy kick to his flirting

"Y/n.." "Yes, dear-"

Bam

He slammed you against the wall

You were in shock as he leaned his head into your hair

"You're mine.. Forever.."

You calmed down and you both hugged before you forced him to go to bed

Nikolai

Nikolai, when not doing things for doa, does drink occasionally

On those occasions he tends to mess with you and tease you more than usual

"My my, it's my beautiful darlinggg~"

Nikolai is already very clingy with you, but drunk? Oh boy

He is literally laying on top of you and constantly talking to you

He places kisses all over your face and trys to make you flustered

Usually by the end of the night you both fall asleep on top on one another

Ango

Although Ango's job at the special ops is more strict than the P.M, I'd like to imagine Ango still drinks occasionally: whether it be after a hard day or in Oda's memory

I feel like he'd be a lot more open, and a tad bit more emotional

Definitely would need a lot of hugs from you

I feel like he wouldn't really flirt, more like appreciate you like a god/goddess

There will definitely be cuddles and kisses

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bellamybellamyblake · 3 months

Text

Violet Eyes, Red

Pairing:

rhysand x reader (pretty sure it's gender neutral - there might be a "she" i missed while referring to you from the original draft bc second person pov is not how i write)

Summary:

you and your mate reunite after feyre defeats amarantha and this is the fallout of what the bitch did to him.

Warnings:

aftermath of SA - i can't really tell if it's graphic which tells me it is, loose description of a panic attack, PTSD, please let me know if I missed anything. guys, please, if these topics are triggering for you, don't read this fic. i am not responsible for your media consumption, but i also don't want to throw you headfirst into your trauma.

Word Count:

2,140

A/N:

literally broke my own damn heart with this one. rhys' trauma is so ignored and that needed to be rectified. rhys might be my second favorite bat boy, but he's still a lil baby who needs to be protected

The human girl had beaten her - the woman of his nightmares - once and for all. At the first moment he could, Rhysand winnowed. After fifty years, he knew there was only one place he could go. After all, it was the last Sunday of the month, and that Sunday was the day he and his mate reserved just for themselves. The High Lord and Lady would not conduct any business on that day.

You'd spend most of your day on the balcony. You'd serenade him with the piano. You'd fly around Velaris - creating patterns in the air. You'd cradle each other in your arms. He'd sketch out a new drawing - trying and failing, in his opinion, to encapsulate your true beauty.

One day, he broke that promise, that vow you had made, and went to what he thought was a simple trade meeting. That morning was the last day he saw you, and he still couldn't live with himself.

Those memories alone kept him breathing at times. When Amarantha stole his bed, his body, his hope.

Then the human girl showed up, and he tried to help her. Wanted to give her what she needed to beat the beast he didn't think he'd ever escape. But he had lost the will to pray for it. To the cauldron, to the Mother Above. Despite his pessimism, she persevered. The girl had won. And then he was free.

He was on the balcony before he could even think about it. After a quick glance around, he realized it was empty. At first, he felt a pulse of disappointment, but with the realization of how long it'd been, he breathed deeply. How could he expect you to keep up the tradition? Fifty years of solitude on those Sundays would have made him mad if your roles were reversed.

At the thought, he allowed himself to feel the mating bond. It had gone cold the moment he winnowed away all those years ago, but now it was as beautiful as he remembered. The pull of another person at the end of a tether, forever binding them in the purest forms of fate.

But he heard your thoughts, and he almost broke down in sobs at the sound of your voice in his head. Please come home, my love. I don't know how to do this anymore. Please. The last word, you were begging. Your inner voice, the one he had to get used to living without, was broken. Pleading for him to return - despite everything you'd probably heard.

And with that, he took action, winnowing to every room in the house so he would find you as soon as possible. He knew you were close; your scent wasn't stale. It was fresh, clinging to every piece of furniture you owned together.

It was the last room he checked, his office, where he found you. You sat in his desk chair; the leather more worn than he remembered. But the sight of you stopped him from rushing to you. Nursing a bottle of wine, you slouched on your elbows, hands in your hair, as more thoughts streamed through the bond.

I'm losing myself, Rhys. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I can't let myself believe you won't come back because that- that will ruin me. What she's doing to you, what she's making you do. I don't even know a fraction of it, but I can't stop it. I- I can't protect you. And I hate myself for it.

He was watching you as you sent the words down the bond, the bond that had been desolate for half a century. You run your hands down your face, not looking up from your wine, the third of many you planned to drown in.

Just get through it. Please just- just survive. Do what you have to do to come home. I'll be here. I love you. My mate.

You'd only allowed yourself to talk to him once a month. Initially, you would try to send him something every day. Thoughts, images, songs you'd learned, prayers for him. You never heard anything back, and it slowly started eating away at you. It shattered your hope every time you didn't get a response.

You'd heard the rumors, Amarantha's whore, he'd been called. Every time you heard it, it ate away at you more and more. As if he would choose that - choose to warm the bed of another when you were waiting for him at home. You knew him better than that, and you winced at the thought. He wouldn't choose it, but would she force him? Was she that much of a monster?

You had to shake that thought away for the thousandth time that night, downing the rest of the glass. As you reach for the bottle, nearly empty at that point, a hand wraps around your wrist. The touch is gentle but firm - stopping you from drinking more, but not rough enough to hurt. Instead of startling at it, the wine slows your instincts. You can only stare. The tattoos on the dorsal side interweave into vines under the sleeve. Vines you know, vines that you've held, vines that have and will continue to have free rein of your body.

Faster than you thought you were capable of, your eyes flew to its owner's eyes. Violet. The most ravishing violet. Violet you'd feared you were forgetting.

With a new urgency, you pulled yourself to your feet, your hands flying up to his face without thinking. One on his cheek, the other on his neck, pushing, pulling, grabbing, unsure if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

In your desperate touch, you missed the way he flinched.

His hands. Mother Above, his beautiful hands were on your neck too, placed at the sides. When your mind would play you for a fool, it would never let you touch him, let alone allow him to reach you. But there he was, and you could feel him. You tugged at the bond, finally noticing it was warm and delicate and sweet and serene and everything you wished you knew how to describe.

He breathed your name, barely a whisper. "I'm home, my darling. I'm home."

"You're here." The words barely escaped you, and you couldn't stop the tears. He didn't hesitate a moment, pulling you in for a frustratingly rare and fierce embrace. You clung to each other for dear life, tighter and tighter and tighter, like he'd disappear if you let him go. Frankly, you weren't convinced he wouldn't. "You're really here."

You stood like that for a while, holding each other, when he ultimately pulled away first. "Rh-Rhys, don't go-"

"I'm not," he promised, his voice raw, kissing your forehead. He took in every inch of your face. "I just wanted to look at you. My mate."

Since Rhys had been freed by the human girl, nothing had been normal. Not that you expected it to be, but you didn't anticipate just how awful a recovery for him would be. He couldn't share your bed, and you didn't mean that in a sexual manner. He couldn't sleep with anyone else in his room - if he had even been sleeping at all. He could barely stand to be touched. You knew he wanted to be able to let you, but every time you seemed to blink, he would flinch.

You had suspicions about what went on under the mountain, but you had no idea it would be so evil.

He stood before a cabinet, staring blankly into it, lost in a memory - a memory he'd been refusing to share. You understood why, but something in you told you that you needed to see. Not just for curiosity's sake but to know how to help him. Even if it was past your pay grade.

"Rhys," You called quietly for the second time. You didn't want to touch him, shock him back to reality. The fear of that setting him off more held you back. With a harsh and sudden breath, he fearfully glanced at you and around the room, forgetting where he was for a moment. "You're at home, Rhys. You came home."

"I'm sorry," He rasped, ignoring your words. His hands pulled at his hair, and you were nervous he'd start ripping it out. He backed away from you, so far away he was caught by the wall. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your own formed at the sight of his tears, but you couldn't conjure up what he'd have to apologize for. "It's okay, honey, you're safe. It's okay."

"I didn't- I didn't want it. I swear on my life, I didn't want to."

You shook your head, not understanding. But you knew asking what he was apologizing for was the wrong thing to do. You could see it, the shame, the regret, the blame. "I know you didn't."

He squeezed his eyes shut, buried his face in his hands, and sank to the floor. He kept murmuring apologies, pleading for your forgiveness. "I betrayed you, you have to- you have to leave me."

His words shocked you, and now you were the one that flinched. "Rhysand, look at me." He visibly shrunk at the command, pulling his hands away from his face. "As far as I'm concerned, anything that happened...there...is the furthest thing from your fault. I know there are things you can't tell me, and that's okay. I'll be here when you're ready-"

"I can't!" He bellowed. "You'll never forgive-"

"Show me the memory." You demanded, your voice quiet but assertive. But you wouldn't push too hard if he was adamant about keeping you out. You knew. You knew. Based on the way he had been acting, what had happened. But you also knew he needed to show you. So someone, fucking someone, would tell him it was out of his control. He couldn't govern everything, even if he was the High Lord of the Night Court. The words hurt as they left your lips. "Because I can promise you that I will."

You weren't a daemati, but you could see him battling with himself. Debating, if showing you what really happened, would bury him deeper under the surface or pull him back up for air.

Eventually, he released a rare sob and a barely audible "Okay."

He showed you the first time, how he just laid there like a statue as her hands took everything for herself. Then, the fifth time, when she started demanding he respond, pretend he wanted it. Then, the eleventh time, when his body started reacting. Then, by the next time, he had stopped keeping count.

He showed you, whether he meant to or not, how he prayed for it to end, prayed for someone to rescue him.

How he had been praying for you.

With the confirmation of your theory, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back the tears. The angry tears, wishing you could've been the one to rip her throat out. Tears that enraged you because that was not Tamlin's kill. Furious tears because that wasn't even your kill. Devastating tears because your mate not only had to play a character for so long, but he had to endure being called her whore. Like he had any fucking say.

Overwhelming tears because your mate was in pain and there was shit all you could do about it.

"Can I touch you?" The question shocks him, but he nods without thinking, confused at the request. You slowly lift your hands to his cheeks, brushing away his tears with your thumbs. "There is nothing for me to forgive you for. I know you didn't want to do any of it."

"But I-"

"Bodies respond to stimulation whether it's wanted or not. It's how we work." You explained slowly and carefully, keeping direct eye contact. "You forget, sweetheart. I can hear your thoughts when you show me a memory."

"I've-" His voice caught, putting his hands on your wrists, rubbing them up and down your arms until they got hot. "I've been so scared. That it's still happening. That all of this is going to go away, that she's not really gone, that I'm not really here, and this is just another tactic-"

You shake your head, finally pulling yourself together to say what you've wanted to say for weeks. "I swear on my life that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. I will spend eternity protecting you from her and anyone like her. And if you forget that this is real, just ask me. I'll tell you."

His eyes darted between yours, furiously blinking. Violet eyes, red. Pleading craving begging praying.

"Is it?"

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lowkeyed1 · 9 days

Text

my friend's putting out her debut novel, and it's available for ebook pre-order (print edition forthcoming)... i was lucky enough to get to read an advance so i'm gonna put the summary below the jump an also my own ravings about it. short version, i really recommend it -- it's a space adventure, a moving meditation on grieving, and chock full of lesbian rep.

summary: After pirates kill her three crewmates, Sam decides it's time to sell her ship and get out of the space business altogether. She hasn’t got a clue what she’ll do instead, but anything’s got to be better than captaining a kraken-class cargo cruiser haunted by the memories of her friends. The problem is, just when Sam’s supposed to be meeting a buyer, she finds herself enacting a rescue instead. Of a woman who might be an entirely different kind of problem. Kate knows what it’s like to lose someone. But having lived her entire life on planet, she can’t understand why Sam would want to sell her escape to the stars. It feels like incredibly good luck when the slightly surly captain agrees to assemble a new crew take her up for one final job. But when they end up kidnapped by a space mobster and forced to track down the same pirates that killed Sam’s crew, it’s starting to look like retirement might be permanent for them both. my rant: okay. sam. i love sam so much. she's repressing and trying to stay distant, trying to stay self-contained, full of loss and fear of further pain. circumstances force her into all the situations she wants to most avoid and she slowly, despite herself, ends up engaging again. it's like watching a beautiful, very grumpy flower unfold and soak up the rain and it just moves me so freaking much. the adventure is compelling and exciting and twists and turns throughout some amazing futuristic locales. i don't want to give away too much plot but it's fun and suspenseful and the side characters are also really interesting. i loved this so much i read it in every spare minute over two days, because i had to know what happened next. i love when a book grabs me like that :) preorder link!

reblogs appreciated <3 <3 <3

#science fiction #authors on tumblr #the ship #c.e. ricketts

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adventuringblind · 1 month

Text

White Clover

Oscar Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: Childhood crushes are normal. Max has been racing for a while now, he's a world champion, it's only natural they would look up to him. It wasn't supposed to go this far...

Warnings: Hanahaki disease, authors limited knowledge of flower language, sickness, Oscar and Reader literally deteriorating, blood,

Notes: One of my favorite tropes! I hope le requester likes it! Hoping to get some loscar comfort out soon!

Side Note: Reader drives for Aston Martin in place of Lance

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It really doesn't make sense in her head. Every time she tries to rationalize it, the answers come up even more ridiculous then the last.

It's always been her and Oscar, Chasing their dream together. It was meant to be, it had to be destiny with the way the two of them fit together so naturally.

Then Max Verstappen happened. A supposed childhood crush. Then a hero they looked up to. Then a rival in their sport. It was supposed to end with that.

Her and Oscar and their weird fascination with Max Verstappen.

Then there was a shift. Suddenly Max was acknowledging their existence. He was talking to them, giving them pointers, including them in the usual playful Max like banter. Their mutually discussed respect for Max turned into a full blown crush.

Not a small crush either. The kind that has them both fumbling around him.

Lando is no help either. He picks up on it immediately. Teases them about it relentlessly.

They are sitting in Oscar's driver room when it happens. The first of many coughing fits as Lando is trying to cheer them up. Because Max is with Kelly; It would never work. They don't even know if he would be into it.

She starts it. Hacking up a storm and Lando and Oscar trying to get her to take water. Oscar starts up a minute later.

The cough up white clovers. Small ones, but a handful.

Lando looks at them sympathetically. All three to in shock to say anything.

"There is no way this is real, right?"

~~~~~~

It is, in fact, very real. The tiny white clovers continue for about a month. Frequently enough that when their helmets come off, they tumble onto the ground.

Being around max makes it better. The ache in their chests lessens enough to breath deeply again.

Then it switched on them. Gone were the little white clovers. Now there were bigger pink camellias. A longing for Max that they didn't know they had.

They lay in bed for most of the winter break. The toll this stupid disease is having doesn't feel fair.

Both of them stare at their breakfast. Neither wanting to eat knowing it'll be a waste.

"We're not going to be able to hold out for much longer..." She trails. Both of them know what's going to happen sooner or later, but losing the memories they do have feels worse.

Oscar sighs, having weighed the options on numerous occasions. "Lets give it until Australia. My mum knows a doctor who'd be willing to do it privately and make sure it doesn't get out."

"Will she make us food while we recover too?"

"I highly doubt she'll let us move until we're cleared."

~~~~~~

Pre-season testing - for lack of a better phrase - fucking sucks. They've moved onto red roses. The thorny kind that catches in their throats. She didn't realize it until she was coughing in the car again and it burned more then normal.

She hustles her car into the pits and stumbles her way through the garage until she can't keep herself up anymore.

The stem that comes up with the full rose is speckled with thorns that catch on things as she pulls it out.

She's so lost in trying to get it out, that she didn't notice who had come in. A hand rubs her back and moves any loose hairs away from her face.

The drops of blood mixed with bile causes the panic to finally set in. Her body gives out, but her teammate is there to get her sitting upright.

"Do I want to know who it is?"

"Just need Osc, please."

Fernando leaves to track down Oscar and ends up coming back with both McLaren drivers in tow. The Aussie doesn't look like he's fairing any better then herself. Paler than usual and still coughing.

"If Max doesn't get his act together then I'm going to run him off at turn one." Lando, their self designated caretaker, sets about getting her cleaned up since Oscar look seconds away from passing out.

"He doesn't have to, not like Max would want us anyway-"

"Oscar Jack Piastri, I swear if I have to listen to anymore of your self-loathing I will tell Max myself." Since when did Lando become a mom? "Plus, he does. He won't shut-up about you two. Daniel is losing his shit and begging him to just end it with Kelly if he adores you two so much!"

Fernando ends up driving them back to the hotel.

~~~~~

Being in Australia with Oscar has always been something to look forward to. This time feel more like dread and guilt.

Telling their teams had been the easiest part. The off week after Australia will be for recovery. It almost made her cry with how supporting they were.

They just have to get through the weekend now... and hopefully avoid Max in the process. The harder part of this whole thing. Specifically when he won't leave them alone.

It's during the drivers parade that everything goes downhill. They are standing in Max's vicinity, Landing becoming a wall between them and Fernando keeping him occupied. It's helping ease the weight in their chests and burning in their throats.

Max, inevitably, makes his way over to them and starts up conversation. Only it doesn't make the pain better this time. The second he starts up conversation she feels the rose blooming in her lungs.

"How have you two been?" Max is awkwardly stammering his way through pleasantries with Oscar while she chokes back her coughs. She throws Lando a pleading look, trying to get him to understand what's happening.

"Doing pretty well, you?" She can hear the strain in Oscar's voice, but he's holding it together. Unlike her, apparently.

She stays silent the rest of the parade. Unable to tune into the rest of the conversation.

Her physio is there waiting for her when she gets back to the garage. The amount of blood she loses is concerning. The bundle of roses makes her want to scream.

Something isn't right. Her body is screaming at her not to move. The flowers refusing to stop.

She doesn't know how Oscar manages to finish the race. He looks miserable when he meets her at the car. Lando has an arm slung around his shoulders to keep him upright.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk to Max first?"

"What would we even say, Lan? That he's the reason we're dying?" Oscar slides into the back with her. Nicole sits in the drivers seat and Chris on the passenger side. They get sympathetic looks from both of them.

"I mean he broke up with Kelly-"

"Lando, we appreciate what you're doing but it's to late for this. We are knocking on deaths door and we'll still have each other. We'll be okay." She tries her best to comfort the worries Brit.

"Promise."

"Pinky."

The car ride is painfully silent. Not like either of them can talk anyway. It's just her and Oscar wrapped around each other as much as they can be.

They enter the hospital with fingers intertwined. They sit together in a private room waiting for the pre-op to start. A hard decision but one they know had to be made.

"Is it bad, that I don't want to forget?" She peers up at Oscar through watery eyes.

He sighs, the heavy kind followed by another cough. "No, I don't want to either."

She feels like falling asleep in Oscar's arms. Pretending that this isn't what's happening. That she's not growing flower bushes in her body. That she'll remember Max when she wakes up in a few hours.

"At least we get the next week off."

"Nando said he's going to drop some kind of care package off later." She laughs, remembering how he'd fussed over them with homemade remedies. "And Mark, I thought he was going to lose it when you handed him a rose."

"The look on his face was priceless!"

They can do this. They have each other and that's all they need.

Then the door bursts open.

"Max?"

~~~~~~

It's not like he thought he would ever find himself in this situation. Smitten with two of the younger drivers and driving himself insane by not confronting his own feelings.

He tried his best to just be friendly and leave it at that. He invited them to do things with the other drivers, struck up conversation, did his best to give them tips for their driving when he had the opportunity.

But the two of them have Max wrapped around their fingers. Both are smart and intuitive. They think he's funny. Max also thinks they are funny and compliment each other well.

This cannot be a normal kind of attraction... Right? No, it's not. It's the whole reason he had to split with Kelly because he knew this went much deeper then he wanted to admit.

The last minute driver change took him off guard. Then he saw Oscar on the grid talking to Lance. The Aussie looking miserable and on the brink of falling over.

He jogs up to Lando, concern lacing his facial expression. "What's going on? Why the last minute driver change?"

"She's sick." Lando doesn't look at him, anxiously fiddling with his fingers while getting ready. "She's been sick so they had a contingency just in case."

"And Oscar?"

"... Also sick."

Obviously Lando isn't telling the whole truth. If the lack of details is anything to go by. "Are you going to tell me with what?"

And Lando is a terrible liar. Max has known him long enough to read his expressions. "The flu?" Max raises his eyebrows in suspicion. "Okay but if i tell you then you can't say anything because it's really bad."

Max gives him a confirming nod. Not like he wants to spread gossip about the two.

"It's hanahaki, but they should be better soon. Surgery is after the race today. She's our due to blood loss and Oscar is nearing that point but determined to race."

Max gapes. What is his reaction supposed to be? "Do they not love each other?"

Lando rolls his eyes. "Max - there is a third that they are both in love with."

"Who is it because I swear-" Maybe anger wasn't the right emotion to have given Lando's annoyed huff.

"It's you! You're just so oblivious that you didn't notice. You were with Kelly so long and they didn't want to make things weird for you that they didn't say anything."

Max gets two steps towards Oscar before he's being shoved into the car. Forced to race despite being able to fix the problems of two people. He’ll just find them afterward.

He, unfortunately, does not escape the people wanting to speak to him. By the time he ends up at the McLaren garage, Lando looks miserable sitting on a counter and swinging his legs. “You just missed them.”

Max deflates to the floor. It looks obnoxiously dramatic and leaves Lando to huff at the scene. “Relax, you can catch them at the hospital if you’re quick enough.”

Lando ends up driving because he’s in no state to do it himself. The anxiety he’d been fighting off is hitting full force now. Enough to make his entire body shake.

He dives out of the car. Disregarding the fact that the sleeves of his race suit are hanging off his waist and nearly collides with the ground because of it.

Oscar’s parents are in the waiting room. They look at him with the most aghast looks he has ever seen. “What are you doing here?” The death glare Nicole is giving him strikes fear into his heart.

“I need to know where they are, please.”

“Now you want to see them?”

Chris puts a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “They are getting prepped for surgery at the moment. You might be too late.” He gives Max a sympathetic smile.

“Please-“ desperation is evident in his voice. “-please, I love them back. I have to try!”

He gets the room number and continues his sprint to the pair. The weight of possibilities comes crashing down on him, that they might not remember him if he is too late.

Times he went to them when he didn’t want to be alone.

When he sought them out at the bars and clubs when Lando subsequently ditched them.

Dragging them around Monaco when they were there for the Grand Prix.

Max should’ve made himself think about it. How he spent hours with them when he didn’t have to.

He doesn’t bother knocking on the door when he gets there. He slams the door open wide and almost sobs in relief when he sees them still waiting.

While her face is buried in Oscars shoulder, the Aussie is staring right at him. “Max?”

He takes a tentative step forward but stops when they both start violently coughing. “Sorry - I’ll stay over here.”

“What ever are you doing here?” The rasp is her voice makes him flinch. It’s scratchy, like her throat has been torn to pieces.

“I just - Lando told me what’s been going owns I know it’s not fair that I’ve made you suffer for so long.” He wants to get closer, hold them, provide them comfort. “It took me too long to get my shit together but, I love you both.”

Oscar tentatively tries to get up, the female not able to move without falling over and the Aussie in no position to carry her. Max lunges forward to catch him when he stumbles and down to the floor they go.

Max attempts to get him back up, but isn’t fast enough when the female slides down to join them. They end up falling asleep against him, breathing evenly.

They stir when the doctor announces himself, but don’t move from their spots. Max assumes that they are exhausted from coughing up literal flowers.

“This was not what I expected to find.” There is an amused tone in the doctor’s voice. “I take it you were the one?”

“Yeah, that would be me.”

“Well, we’ll keep them for observation and make sure any lingering thorns don’t do anymore damage. Would you be alright saying near them?”

Max nods hastily, eager to do whatever is necessary.

The hardest part is actually getting them to let go of him. The second he retracts contact is the moment they start panicking and coughing again. It’s a stressful few hours until it dies down again.

Nicole and Chris look ecstatic to see the three of them together. They’ve informed her parents about the change in plans and are also happy to know they’ve had a good outcome.

The residual flower petals come in waves, but they are dying down in intensity. The painkillers they are on make them wake up with dopey smiles on their faces.

“Hey Max?” She whispers. The three of them laying in the hospital bed together despite it being cramped and having a second one.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks…” The drowsiness in her voice evident.

“For what?”

Oscar is somewhere between asleep and maybe consciouses. “For noticing us.”

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missmonsters2 · 1 year

Text

—Just Last Lifetime | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: Wednesday is determined to recreate the special moments of your relationship to revive your memories—to revive your feelings. But it becomes apparent that the same memories cannot be created twice.

Warnings: Heavy Angst. Heartbroken!Wednesday. DestinedToBeAlone!Wednesday. Amnesia. Flashbacks. Violent emotional outbursts.

PART ONE

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: so this is it! The end...haha unless...👀 lol jk...unless ☝️

Count: 4.9k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"We're going somewhere for our studies today."

You look curiously at Wednesday, clutching the straps of your backpack a little tighter at the sudden spring of information.

Wednesday pretends to not notice your anxiousness, turning to walk off and expecting you to follow. She pays attention to the footsteps behind her, satisfied that you trail along despite clearly being reluctant.

It's been easier to spend time with you lately, with Yoko being incredibly busy with her club activities, and Enid has been keeping herself busy on purpose to leave you with no choice but to spend time with Wednesday.

Wednesday doesn't think you particularly hate spending time with her. You're always cordial and friendly. You've thanked her multiple times for taking the time to help you catch up on your studies and assistance with your current assignments.

Just a few days ago, you gifted her 99% dark chocolate for all the help. Wednesday had been intrigued, thinking you recalled how she preferred the bitter taste. But the intrigue swiftly died when you informed her Enid let you know as you wanted to do something for her.

It didn't matter. It was the fact alone that you went out of your way to give Wednesday something she'd like that mattered.

"Where are we going?" You ask, your voice tinged with curiosity and wariness the further you walk past the school entrance, clearly leaving. "Are we actually studying?"

Wednesday's eyes peer to the corner of her eyes to look at you.

"You study too much."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"You spend too much time investigating, Wednesday."

Wednesday didn't even look up at you as she continued to pack her backpack for the day.

"I thought you were interested in coming along to find answers?" Wednesday's voice was dispassionate. There was a part of her that was tinged with annoyance that you constantly invited yourself along to her trips if you were just going to get sick of tagging along now.

"I very much am, but we've clearly hit a wall and I'm not particularly looking forward to walking around in circles in the forest today," you pursed your lip but then smiled. "Why don't we take a little bit of a break today? If you really want to, we can continue investigating tonight instead."

"You're willing to sneak out?" Wednesday raised her brow at you. She thought you were ridiculous for trying to bargain with her. The investigation was important, and Wednesday had no desire to lose any time.

She would investigate, and you were free to come along or not.

"I'll break any rule for you, Wednesday."

You said it in such a natural way, and Wednesday found that she was unable to reply right away. She looked back down at the ground for a moment, blinking before she looked back up at you.

"Where are we going?"

Wednesday had several ideas of where you might take her. There was the music hall, the planetarium, or even the garden. But what she hadn't expected was that you'd take her to the carnival.

"You didn't get to enjoy it, right?" You asked as you stepped out of the taxi, paying the driver cash. Wednesday didn't answer, but you knew the answer. "I mean, probably hard to enjoy since you were chasing the Hyde and almost died after Rowan did."

That was another one of the reasons why Wednesday didn't mind that you came along with her investigations. You were the only person who believed her when she said Rowan was dead, despite also being of the people who saw him in the aftermath.

When Wednesday asked why you believed her, you simply said she didn't come across as someone who would lie about it. So, if he was dead, he was dead.

"I suppose," Wednesday looked at the carnival before her. It was moderately busy for a weekend, and she wasn't particularly interested in doing any of these mundane activities.

"Alright," you clapped your hands, bringing Wednesday's attention to you. "We're on a mission today. I come here every year the carnival opens up to win the biggest prize, but my tickets were short since the carnival got cut short last time with the entire…situation."

"What are you trying to win?" Wednesday asked.

You grin at her, pointing far down the carnival with a specific booth. "That mini motorcycle."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"This is rigged," Wednesday seethed, glaring at the booth worker who was nervously sweating ever since she approached.

You laughed, grabbing Wednesday's attention and the relief of the worker. "I know, right? We're totally just losing money at this point."

It was a simple game. A gun with 9 rubber bullets and 10 balloons to pop, and you had to win 5 times in a row with no supernatural abilities to get enough tickets to win the motorcycle.

It was not impossible, Wednesday knew that, but the balloons were not close enough where she could get away with hitting two with one rubber bullet.

They've both spent $100 at this point and while Wednesday would get 9 of 10 balloons every time, you would hit one balloon before you missed every other shot, hitting the corner of the wooden target.

As often as you refilled, it was starting to wear a dent.

"You're terrible at this," Wednesday bluntly said, but you merely smiled and shrugged.

A bit of wind was picking up, making the balloons circle around in their spot. Wednesday spotted her opportunity and chance when two balloons circled close enough towards each other, barely grazing.

Wednesday timed it perfectly and shot her 9 bullets, using her last one to wait as they circled towards each other before shooting and getting them both.

"Oh," you grinned. "That was really impressive."

Wednesday didn't react to your praise, waiting for the worker to rotate the next round of balloons and repeating her actions while the wind continued.

So far, Wednesday has won 4 times in a row. She had to pause as the wind died down, but it was sure to come back in a few moments.

"What do you want if we both win?" You asked. "There's only one motorcycle, so you may have to settle for something else."

Wednesday snorted. "I'm not sure I should get my hopes up on getting anything." It was a dig at the fact you've been absolutely terrible with your shots.

"C'mon, Wednesday," you grinned. "Dream a little."

"I don't dream."

"Nightmare it up a little," you quickly rebuttal.

Wednesday sighed, looking at the prizes that hung and framed the booth. Outside of random useless knick knacks, there were just stuffed animals—which were also useless.

But Wednesday's eye caught on a large scorpion stuffed animal. She wasn't one for being sentimental, but this was as good as it would get.

"That," Wednesday pointed at the scorpion stuffed animal.

You looked at it, grinning as you knew the story behind it. "Sure thing."

The wind picked up again, and Wednesday took the opportunity to win the 5th time in a row. The booth worker, whom Wednesday also assumed was the owner, looked relieved and reluctant to hand over the mini-motorcycle.

"I don't want to stand here for hours," Wednesday deadpanned, having already spent 2 and a half hours winning this prize for you. You would be here for 2 and a half days at the rate you were going.

"We're just about finished," you told Wednesday, and she raises her brow, thinking you'd given up.

But you slap down another $20 bill, smirking. Wednesday looked to your side of the targets and noticed the small dent you've managed to create with the rubber bullets. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if that was your plan all along.

Wednesday gets her answer within minutes. Suddenly, you've turned into a master marksman, shooting every balloon precisely until you were down the last two side by side. You tilted your gun, aiming it at the target, where you created a dent in the side. When you shot the bullet, it shot inside the hole and bounced against the wood, flying out with just enough force to hit the two balloons from the side.

Wednesday furrowed her brows in disbelief.

It continued like that until you won 5 times in a row without pausing. The owner looked like he wanted to say something but merely rolled his eyes with a certain kind of fondness Wednesday was sure you earned over the years coming here.

"The tickets get you two of these," the owner said, handing you two large scorpion stuffed animals.

"Did you have fun?" you grinned at Wednesday.

"It was passable," Wednesday admits, unable to fully say that even mundane activities like carnival games were interesting if she was with you.

As you left the booth, you handed Wednesday the stuffed scorpions to hold while taking the mini motorcycle.

"Look," you said. "Now your scorpion has a little friend to keep them company, or a little girlfriend," you wriggled your brows at her while Wednesday sighed, not commenting back.

She looks at the motorcycle and then at you. "Do you even know how to operate this?"

You smiled at Wednesday. "Not at all."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

The biggest prize of the carnival is still the mini motorcycle, as they don't change the award until next year. It seems they've stocked up since the last time the two of you were here.

Wednesday knows you already have one, but it wouldn't hurt to have another one.

You seem spirited to be at the carnival playing games, as it's obviously familiar to you.

They walk up to the same booth with the same owner, who clearly recognizes them.

"Oh, not again," he sighs. "You're going to run me out of business. Any chance I can talk you out of winning again?"

You look confused, but when you see the motorcycle as the prize, a moment of recognition dawns on your face from the one in the corner of your room. "I've already won this," you slowly say as a confirmation but not as a memory.

"Close," Wednesday drawls. "I won it."

You look confused as to why Wednesday would win the big prize for you, but before you question it, Wednesday speaks again. "It's time to repay the favor and win me one too."

You smile weakly as if the pressure is on, but you pick up the gun, studying the targets. The dent you created on the target was gone as the owner replaced it. You play a couple of rounds to get a feel of the game, while Wednesday puts little effort into her own game. It's unlikely there'd be wind again this time around. Even if Wednesday now knew the other method, it was something Wednesday hoped you would get on your own.

As time goes on, you're starting to get the idea of how to win. It's rather satisfying to watch you get to the same conclusion.

Wednesday takes her time achieving the same method as you. You're focused on your own game, not checking how Wednesday's faring.

You both created a dent relatively around the same time before shooting in sync, winning 5 times in a row.

The owner sighs, shaking his head and muttering about changing the rules about damaging the targets to win. Still, he hands you the motorcycle before asking what else you want.

"Uh," you hesitate, looking at the various prizes before you. Your eyes spot two stuffed animals that make you grin. "The bat and the wolf, please."

With the prizes in tow, the two of you leave the booth.

"What are you going to do with the mini motorcycle?" You ask.

"Teach you how to ride," Wednesday bluntly tells you.

You look surprised. "Oh," you chuckled weakly. "Right, I guess I probably told you I wouldn't know how to ride one."

Wednesday doesn't know what to say about your comment, so she veers off topic. "What are you going to do with the stuffed animals?" Wednesday internally sighs at the ridiculousness of the question. There are very limited things you can do with stuffed animals.

"I'm going to give them to Yoko and Enid," you smile.

"Right," Wednesday mutters, feeling something bitter rise in her throat but unable to identify it. Despite coming here and doing it correspondingly, none of this feels the same. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

You shrug your shoulders before nodding. "It's not bad to take a break from studying."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The second time Wednesday takes you somewhere, you give her a confused smile.

"I'm pretty behind on my classes still," you gently point out, hinting that you're not up for another day of playing hooky, and Wednesday concedes with a nod.

"I'm aware. We aren't taking a break today," Wednesday clarifies, "we're merely studying in a different scenery."

The walk is silent as you follow Wednesday's lead. She takes you further down the river to an area you haven't explored before until you eventually reach a tall wisteria tree, probably the only one in Vermont, preserved with magic.

"Wow," you breathe in awe, "I didn't know we had one so near campus."

The gothic girl is lost in her thoughts as she settles near the base of the tree, grabbing the books from her backpack on autopilot.

You used to trail beside her, and now you always walk one step behind.

It's something Wednesday noticed as she took you around various parts of the school during your study sessions in an attempt to recreate the memories. She knows you're starting to find her odd, but Wednesday can't afford to tell you what she's really trying to do.

Wednesday's goal wasn't necessarily to make you remember everything by taking you to these places that hold special memories. If you never remember, that's okay. What Wednesday wants is to recreate the memories in hopes they'll lead the two of you down the same path it did the first time.

But instead of growing closer like you did the first time, it feels like you're pulling further away.

Even so, Wednesday can't stop trying.

"Um," you mumble as you search through your notebooks. "I was hoping we could pick up where we left off on ancient languages?"

Wednesday nods, and the two of you delve into the usual strict business of studying.

Everything is fine, and Wednesday is grading one of your practice sheets while you work on another. It's fine until she notices your trembling fingers. It's subtle as you were obviously trying to hide it, tightening your hands into fists and keeping them at your sides as you attentively look at the worksheet.

"I can't seem to understand the syntax—" you start to say but abruptly stop when Wednesday suddenly stands up, reaches up, and rips off a wisteria flower stock from the tree. She sits back down, reaching over and grabbing your wrist. The gentle squeezing of her hold prompts you to open your hand up, and Wednesday places wisteria stock into your hand.

The shaking stops, and Wednesday begins explaining the syntax to you without skipping a beat while you stare at her, stunned.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"Let's go to the wisteria tree," you were holding Wednesday's hand as you dragged her along. "Today is such a beautiful day, and your skin is way too fair—I mean pale—I mean pallor—to be out in the sun."

Wednesday merely gave you an unimpressed look.

"Once again, you're disrupting my investigations. At this rate, it will take me a lifetime to solve the murders going on here," Wednesday's tone was disgruntled. "It would tarnish not only my reputation but also my ego, and I will make sure you die a miserable death for doing so."

"Ignoring the fact that everyone on campus would totally be dead," you turned around and grinned, "We'd have spent a lifetime together—before you killed me, of course."

You didn't add anything else to your words, but Wednesday could catch the insinuations between the lines.

A lifetime together.

A lifetime with you.

The idea didn't displease Wednesday at all; if anything, the fact that it didn't was more disgruntling.

A large wisteria tree appeared, and the two of you easily settled in. Wednesday was grateful that she had an inkling she should bring a book today in her bag.

"I love this place," you sighed with happiness. "I can't believe you found this place, and I've never noticed it in the years I've been going here."

"It's colorful," Wednesday drawled in response. The flowers that grew were vibrant violet and lavender, something she thought was entirely putrid, but she knew you would love it.

Wednesday was about to say something else when she noticed your fingers were shaking.

"What's wrong with your hands?" Wednesday asked with narrowed eyes.

You looked down, finding you were shaking, before clenching your hands into fists. "It's nothing, it just happens sometimes."

"It's not nothing," Wednesday seethed, angered that you would dare lie to her face. "Why is it shaking? What's wrong?"

You looked like you were debating something for a long moment before you asked her. "Can you grab me one of the wisteria flower stocks?"

Wednesday narrows her eyes at your avoidance, but she gets up, pulls a flower stock off from one of the branches, and passes it to you as she sits down.

"Why does it shake like that?" Wednesday demanded again.

"It's my power," you answer softly, wrapping your fingers around the flower. Wednesday watched as the flower in your handle steadily withered and died. You were smiling at her, but your eyes had a distinct melancholy look.

"This happens when I don't use my powers enough or use them too much. Air is generally made up of a lot of different gases but too little or too much of one causes disruptions in my body because the equilibrium between the air outside and the air inside my body isn't stabilized," you shrugged, holding the withered wisteria flowers in your hands that no longer shook. "I try not to if I can, but plants are a cheat way for me to expel and absorb air to find the equilibrium."

"Why not? It's obviously the most efficient way to stop the shaking," Wednesday frowned.

You shrugged. "I don't think it's a good idea for people to realize there are drawbacks to my powers and how to fix them. It may start with plants, but people will eventually start fearing I can use people the same way."

"Can you?"

You quirked your lip in response, and Wednesday knew the answer.

"Besides," you sighed, dropping the dead wisteria stock with a regretful frown. "Some plants are really beautiful. It's a shame to kill them."

Wednesday looked up at the hanging flowers and scrunched her nose in disgust. "I encourage you to kill this offensively colorful tree."

"When it makes you so miserable? I can't deprive you of that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

The silence drags on too long, and your lack of response prompts Wednesday to look at you.

You're staring at her before Wednesday watches peer down at your hand, intensely in thought. There's a mix of disbelief and curiosity in your eyes, and Wednesday doesn't understand why.

This was normal.

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, making Wednesday's eyes nearly flutter at the sound. But the next words make her freeze. "Was I in love with you?"

It's something in the way you say it, curious and accepting. Something rushes into Wednesday's chest like a stampede, and she realizes it's hope.

Your tone doesn't suggest you remember anything, but Wednesday rationalizes that it's fine. While it would be ideal that you remember everything, it's not a condition Wednesday holds.

You’re biting your bottom lip, looking reluctant. The silence falls again and lingers until you speak up again, trying to be firm.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore. I don't know what I felt about you before the accident...but that's gone. I'm not going to feel it just because you bring me to places that mattered to us. I don't remember it and I don’t understand it."

Stop talking.

Wednesday wants you to stop talking. She closes her eyes, turning her head away as if that would stop her from hearing your words.

You don't take the hint.

"I don't feel that way about you anymore."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was fine—it was.

Wednesday spends the rest of her week doing various things. She writes, then she goes to the library; she briefly goes to the bee club until she can't stand Eugene's chattering and leaves. She goes on walks with Enid, who smartly avoids talking about you, and sometimes subjects herself to Xavier's monologuing and brooding in his art studio.

Wednesday fills the days with various activities while simultaneously avoiding areas you'd be in. It's not that she's afraid of seeing you, but simply that she doesn't want to.

This is fine.

The day has come to an end, and the sun has long gone from the sky. Wednesday decides to return to her room and play the cello before bed.

This is for the best.

Wednesday focuses her thoughts on her cello and what she'll play, and perhaps Thing will be there to turn the pages for her.

It is meant to be this way.

The room is dark when she enters, and Wednesday knows Enid is not around. There's a small feeling of relief that she doesn't need to face her roommate right now.

The silence in the room feels jilting in a way Wednesday's not used to. She used to be content in the quiet...until you. Then she grew used to your presence and soft chatter around this hour.

Wednesday clenches her fists.

Good riddance.

You were a mistake, and you did her a favor by cutting ties. This was something Wednesday should've done herself a long time ago.

Thing greets her on her bed, and she acknowledges him with a nod. She shreds off her backpack and changes out of her uniform before grabbing her cello and heading out onto the balcony.

The scuttling footsteps behind Wednesday tell her that Thing is quickly following.

"Bring me the new music sheet to play," Wednesday directs. She needs to play something different that would require her focus instead of her usual repertoire, which would allow her mind to drift.

Wednesday starts playing immediately, eyes focusing on the notes she's playing while Thing diligently flips the pages for her.

This is good.

This keeps her mind focused and sharp. Wednesday doesn't have time to think about anything else when she has to focus on what note she'll be playing next.

Despite the new piece, though, Wednesday's mind begins to drift. She has to make a conscious effort to keep her focus on the music sheet in front of her, but you pop up in her mind interspersedly.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore."

Her fingers falter, her cello emitting a jagged sound from her mistake. It's so unbelievably frustrating. She hasn't ever made a mistake while playing her cello since she first started learning it as a child. Years and years have gone by without a single mistake, and it was all ruined because of you.

You plague her like a disease that festers under her skin. Wednesday's done her best to ignore you for days now. She's been ignoring the sight of you, the talks of you, and everything down to the thought of you.

Yet, you were still there, underneath everything. You simmer like a slow boiling kettle until you can't be ignored anymore.

Wednesday closes her eyes frustratingly, willing you to leave her mind. She threatens her brain to erase the thought of you. It'd clearly be so much easier to forget you. After all, look how simply you live now without a memory of Wednesday.

But you don't go away. The memories remain with Wednesday, torturing her for what will likely be the rest of her life.

This was not a form of torture Wednesday ever thought she'd have to endure.

Wednesday opens her eyes and stands abruptly as she walks back inside. She didn't bother turning on the lights, and the only thing illuminating the room was the moonlight shining through the balcony.

"I don't feel that way about you anymore."

Wednesday clenches her jaw and tightens her grip on her cello.

How entirely damning.

Suddenly, a white-hot ball of rage forms in Wednesday's chest; everything she's been trying to push down for the last few days spills over. Emotions run a rampage inside her, unable to be controlled and ignored any longer.

Wednesday lifts her cello before violently smashing it into the floor, the body of it breaking in an uneven half, wood splitting into multiple pieces. The tailpiece cracks, and the strings snap, one of them into Wednesday's hand and cutting it.

The rage and adrenaline in her body don't allow the pain to register, even if she can see the blood.

How could you forget?

Wednesday begins destroying other parts of her side of the room—her bed, her clothes, her books. She pushes her wardrobe over and knocks over the chair at her desk, the loud banging ringing in her ears but not loud enough to cover the pain in her chest.

Thing scuttles back and forth in worry, but he cannot do anything to help his friend. He immediately leaves out the door with a mission.

How could you not want to fall in love with her again?

Wednesday pushes her typewriter off her desk—she thrashes everything off her desk. Her beloved typewriter crashes into the floor, the carriage breaking off along with other various parts. Keys pop off, making a ruckus on the floor as they hit it, but it doesn't bring any relief.

None of this is.

Wednesday pulls open the drawer, grabs out her manuscript, and looks at the last few pages she's written. Viper falls in love with someone who helps her with her investigations, and Wednesday has written up to the part where Viper begrudgingly accepts that fact she has feelings for this person and accepts their confession.

Wednesday has never gotten rid of any parts of her work all these years. Sure, she's done revisions and draft editing, but every scene down to its core idea has never been removed. Wednesday is a stern believer that every scene is meant to happen, and she cannot change the course of her writing when she looks back.

But Wednesday begins to shred multiple pages. She shreds page after page but doesn't know when to stop. Should she stop before Viper gets involved with this person?

Along with the anger settles in hollowness.

It's the realization that even if Wednesday destroys these pages, she can't really undo the fact that Viper has met someone and fallen in love with them.

How could you leave Wednesday to remember everything alone?

Wednesday hears the door open, but she doesn't turn around.

"Wednesday?" Enid's voice is soft and unsure, full of concern.

Wednesday doesn't answer.

Enid steps further into the room, shutting the door behind her as she looks around. The room is a mess with so many broken items on the floor, but her side remains untouched, nearly down to the tape they removed ages ago.

Enid is careful as she makes her way to Wednesday, the girl's shoulder tense with obvious rage. But even so, Enid knows her roommate would never hurt her. So, she places a hand on her roommate's shoulder when she's next to Wednesday.

"Wednesday—"

Wednesday is quick to whip around and look at Enid with violently accusing eyes. "This is your fault," Wednesday spits out. "I wouldn't be feeling this—this loneliness if you haven't been spurring lies to me about love." The tone is filled with disgust at the last word.

Wednesday has never expressed any ounce of emotion that would allow her to scream at someone, but she wants to scream at Enid and can't. Even if she wanted to, her throat feels so raw with something Wednesday can only detect is the urge to cry.

But even if Wednesday threatens her body to refrain from crying, the salty water spills from her eyes without permission. The spill and spill, even if Wednesday doesn't make a single sound.

Enid doesn't care if Wednesday punches, stabs, or even kills her—she pulls Wednesday into a bone-crushing hug. Her roommate resists at first, pushing against Enid, but it's useless against her werewolf strength. Enid holds on, even as Wednesday's pushing turns into desperate clinging.

Wednesday's tears are hot, and Enid knows logically tears are always hot, but she finds herself surprised they are. It's just another sign her roommate is all too human too.

"It's okay, Wednesday, I swear," Enid whispers, rubbing Wednesday's back in soothing circles, even caressing her messy braids.

There's no heaving or loud sobbing, as that would be too much for the somber girl. Even so, Enid can feel the tears soak her neck and dampen her shoulder.

"It's not," Wednesday's voice is so raw, as if the girl had been violently sobbing. She clutches at Enid's back, her eyes blankly staring at the mess she's made of her room. Everything is out of place or broken.

It shouldn't be Enid here, but the person Wednesday wants will never show up.

"I don't have anyone anymore."

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x ofc #wednesday x ofc #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #mm: my fics

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