#I wish I could find someplace that doesn’t make me feel like leaving
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He took a hike out to Paradise Meadow today. I wish I could’ve gone with him. Espesh after literally last night imagining how nice it would be to lay in that meadow with him and play with his hair.
#this is goggles#the gay longing is real my dudes and fuck it sucks#I want to braid little flowers in his hair#sit on top of that huge boulder and watch the waterfall while holding his hand#I want to kiss him#why is he straight?#why am I a disgusting fucking unlovable tranny?#bleh I gotta get out of this place#I know I’ve just been saying that nonstop for years but oh my god I gotta get outta here#I wish I could find someplace that doesn’t make me feel like leaving#does such a place even exist?#I wish there were a place where only trans folks lived
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When You Wish Upon a Star
Levi X Reader
WARNINGS: post war, major character death, angst, longing
Word Count: 1k
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“Levi, when I die I’m going to become a star. So if I die before you I want you to look up at the sky every night and find me, and just tell me how you’re doing.”
Levi furrowed his brow. He looked over at where you were sitting in the plane to find you looking longingly out the window.
“What? You’re not dying.”
You laughed, turning your attention to him. “I’m just saying. You never know what’ll happen.”
Levi is silent. You’re right, he doesn’t know what’ll happen, but he knows that you’ll try your damn best to live. Even if nothing is waiting for you, even if the entire world is against you, you’ll survive.
“Mr. Levi, why are you always so grumpy looking?”
He set the now empty box of candy to the side, looking down at the group of children that had gathered and sat around him. He wasn’t sure why they always came to him, but he didn’t mind it.
“Yeah. You always have this face like”—one child contorts her face into an exaggerated frown—“like that.”
“Is it because you’re lonely?”
That was a stab to his heart. He spent most of his day giving these kids candy. Sometimes Gabi or Falco or whoever would come and wheel him someplace else, so he wasn’t really alone.
But sometimes at night, when he’s struggling to lower himself into the bathtub, he wishes someone were there. Sometimes, when he’s pushing himself around in the morning to make breakfast, he wishes someone would kiss his cheek or tell him, “Good morning.” Sometimes when he watches the kids that sit around him bicker and argue and play with each other, he wishes that he had a little brat of his own.
What he really wishes, is that you were there with him.
“Mr. Levi isn’t lonely! He has his cousin, remember? Or those other people that come and talk to him sometimes.”
“Yeah, but they don’t count. I mean like a girl. Are you married, Mr. Levi?”
“No, I’m not married.” He wishes he was. He wishes he could have convinced you to stay so you could be the one he married, but he couldn’t. He had frozen up and watched you go.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Levi thinks back to what you said to him on that flying ship, back before so many people had to die.
“She’s a star.”
They start snickering, holding their hands tightly over their mouths attempting to muffle them. As children do, they over exaggerate their reaction, falling on their sides as they giggle.
“You can’t date a star! They’re all the way up in the sky so you can’t date one.”
Levi cracks a small smile and doesn’t say anything. As much as they remind him that he can’t be with a star, that he’ll never get the chance to tell you how he really feels, he doesn’t mind because these kids are laughing. They’re smiling so big Levi can see all of their teeth and he thinks that there’s nothing he’d rather be doing.
When he goes home later that day, he asks Gabi to leave him out on the porch for a bit. She complies and Levi tells her to go inside and read a book until he’s ready. He stares out as the sun sets before him thinking about the last time he was able to touch you.
“Hange, if we both go we can stall for longer,” you said. You were already ready, your ODM gear strapped to your hips and legs with thunder spears in yours hands.
“Y/n, you’re being stupid. That won’t-“
“She’s right.” Hange’s voice was soft. Levi could tell they didn’t want you to go either, but they were desperate and needed all the time they could get. “We don’t know how long it’ll take to start the air ship up.”
Levi had blocked the rest from his memory. He’s not sure why, those were the last moments he had with the two of you, after all. He wanted to remember every little detail.
While Hange was appointing Armin as the fifteenth commander, you kept Levi wrapped in your arms. You were taller than him, so his head was tucked into your shoulder as you told him over and over again you loved him.
Tears streamed down your face. You sobbed and ran your hands through his hair and told him the same words over and over again.
He took you in, squeezing you in his arms so hard you were breathless. He tried committing your smell to memory and found himself wishing your hair wasn’t pulled back so he could take in the scent of flowers it always had.
Now you smelled like sweat and dirt. He hated it, but he couldn’t let himself hate it as much as he did because it was you. Part of him wishes you had chosen different paths, ones that didn’t end up here.
He cried, too, but your shirt had absorbed the tears before you pulled away and cupped his face in your hands.
You looked into his eyes, the prettiest steel gray you’ve ever seen and always overflowing with emotion. A soft smile stretched across your face despite the circumstances, and you leaned forward and softly kissed his lips.
“Don’t forget to tell me how you are, okay?” Your voice cracked on the last word, but you refused to cry again. “Every day. I want to hear everything.”
You kissed him once more before pulling away and letting Hange say bye.
And he just stood there when you finally zipped off. He was frozen until Mikasa grabbed him by the shoulder and brought him back to reality.
He remembers wishing it was night while they were in the sky just so he could talk to you again.
But now that the sun had gone down and the moon was hanging in the air, Levi looks up at the sky and finds the brightest star.
And he starts talking.
i got this idea because i watched the princess and the frog and i love ray and evangeline so much (it's a firefly and a star, i know, i'm sorry) and this came to me in a vision and i just needed to write it but i hope y'all enjoyed <3
TAGGING: if you'd like to be tagged whenever I post or Levi comment or DM to let me know!
#izzy’s imagines ❀#attack on titan#aot#aot x reader#attack on titan x reader#levi ackerman#levi ackerman aot#levi ackerman x reader#snk#snk x reader#shingeki no kyoujin x reader#levi x reader#aot levi#levi aot#levi attack on titan#attack on titan levi
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Trivial Lessons (ScaraLumi)
oh hey what's up here's some mega soft, indulgent, marshmallow fluff in the form of consecutive drabbles. i just think scaralumi is neat.
Scaramouche isn't as worldly as he thinks he is. Lumine is the only one he'd considering learning from.
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Scaramouche/Lumine
1,737 Words - SFW
No heinous tags - just a mountain of fluff and Scaramouche getting the physical affection he deserves.
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The expectation when giving him a realm dispatch was a simple one. Come and go as you require, and come to Lumine when you need something. Those rules were the same for anyone who had a way into Lumine’s domain, though they were few and far between.
It’s meant to be the place where she finds peace when the expectations of the world outside grow too heavy for the moment. Or, when she just doesn’t feel like pitching a tent to share with Paimon. But regardless of the reasons for her arrivals there, it doesn’t lessen the fact that it’s the one place in the universe that Lumine can go where there aren’t responsibilities for her to juggle.
Scaramouche knows this. So well, in fact, that when he steps down into the place she’d allowed him to call his own, he still feels unsure of how exactly he should go about making the request that’s been nagging at the back of his mind since… how long has it been, now? Maybe five, maybe six months. Time tends to blur together when his only real obligation these days is to hurry along when Lumine needs him.
He wishes it were more often, he wishes he had an excuse to follow her around and-
The fountain that’s nestled between glowing flowers and trees that arch inwards in a thick canopy trickles peacefully, breaking the silence that had existed before he’d come here. A deep inhale carries the subtle scent of flowers, the salt of an illusory ocean, petrichor and leaves from someplace unknown, just beyond the treeline. Despite his solitary travels, this is the truest semblance of peace he can nurture for himself.
Whether that has anything to do with the owner of this domain is still up for debate, but he’s certain it’s one that he would lose if someone were to call him out on it.
Closing his eyes, he reaches out like Lumine showed him, feeling for the presence of others who may be taking refuge here. He expects one of Lumine’s other companions - the purple-haired child, the Tianquan, the kitsune that can’t remember him - but there’s only a singular presence here that beckons for him.
The winds carry him there, coming as easy to him as breathing.
There’s a hilltop, crafted as if its sole purpose was to bring Lumine closer to the sun that hangs above at her will. At its peak is a blanket, sprawled out across grass that’s as soft as any bed he’s come across. The fabric is a pristine blue, almost a perfect mirror for the sky above that Lumine watches with slow blinks and a lazy smile.
“That was quick. You just saw me this morning - don’t tell me you missed me already?”
Under any other circumstance, Scaramouche would be spitting at the accusation of any sort of softness that could be perceived from his actions. But Lumine’s head turns to the side just enough to look up at him, no hint of malice in her eyes as she all but sprawls at his feet without a care in the world.
It softens his edges, just a bit.
Enough for him to nudge her leg with his foot until she moves over, giving him enough space for him to take up residence on her little fabric island of peace. It’s not enough to allow him personal space, his knee pushing into the plush of her thigh as she settles once more with closed eyes and a pleased sigh.
If he said nothing, simply relished in this moment, certainly Lumine wouldn’t begrudge him that. There’s a tentative, unspoken agreement between them, coming into existence the moment they had stepped from Irminsul and he was met with a new life unfolding rapidly before him.
The rules weren’t stated, but he found himself tentatively pushing at them with gently biting remarks and fleeting touches at the back of her elbow, fingers wrapping around her wrist, the steady warmth of her presence at his side as she drags him over hill and dale, wherever her journeys take her on a given day. Not once has he complained, nor will he if prompted.
But, the truth is that peace like this can’t last, no matter how warm his skin feels from the sun, how comfortable the grass is beneath him, how sweetly the wind rustles the wisped ends of blonde hair. With a deep breath that’s laced with the thickness of his own tension, he asks, “I don’t ask much from you.”
“You don’t. It’s weird. It’s like you’ve been saving up for something big. Are you about to cash in?”
The pain of his teeth clamping on his tongue draws him back to reality, away from where his first instinct drags him to denydenydeny–
“Maybe. You can say no. I don’t know why you make mountains out of the smallest pebble.”
“Things that are big from my perspective might be worth nothing to you. And vice versa. You’re stalling, Wanderer.”
Ah, he supposes he is. It’s easier that way, to claim internally that he’s merely gathering thoughts that have been tightly bundled. All he needs to do is unpack them, and now is as good a time as any.
“You’ve seen my memories.”
“The important bits, at least.”
Well, at least she has an inkling about how absolutely devastating those specific memories are, but that’s not the point right now. Squinting up at the sun, he avoids Lumine’s inquisitive gaze in favor of burning his retinas. “In Shakkei Pavilion, I knew nothing. I was a blank slate - lost and confused. In Tatarasuna, I learned the basics of humanity, only gaining a grasp on harsher topics first-hand with… with…”
Slowly, Lumine pushes up to sit, concern palpable in the air despite his eyes burning. It’s from the sun. It’s from the sun.
“Anyway.” A clearing of his throat brings things back on track, his eyes still sting as he stares at the second sun at his side, glowing in the midday light that seems to have no set time here. Sometimes, it lasts days, and others it’s gone in the blink of an eye. If he continued to stare at the sun, would it be moving, or halted?
“Anyway,” he starts again, rubbing the heel of his palm against the corner of his eye to sweep away wetness that threatened to fall, “even I can admit there are some things I don’t know. Haven’t experienced. That’s the request I’m trying to cash in on.”
“Ah, I see.” Lumine’s voice doesn’t waver, but it does sound rather quiet as she absently scratches at the hair just behind her ear, jostling the flowers that adorn her there. “You’ll have to be more specific. I just don’t think there’s anything I can show you that you haven’t seen before - not anything in my power, at least.”
“Well, there is, if you’ll hear me out.”
“That’s what I’m doing right now, isn’t it? You’re talking an awful lot to just ask for something so simple.”
“Don’t get smart, or I’ll ask someone else.” An empty threat - something like this could be trusted with no one but the Traveler. And even if it could, the thought of learning something like this from another made his skin crawl.
To her credit, Lumine doesn’t prod him further. Only gives a placating smile that has a little too much mischief for his liking, tilts her head until the longest of her blonde strands brush her collarbone on one side, leans on one hand so she’s a little closer. Maybe she already knows, but to reach for it would be beyond his power. Certainly, he’d make a fool of himself.
“You can’t laugh.”
“I’ll recite that Snezhnayan pinky-promise poem if you want.”
“No thanks, I’ve heard it one too many times in my life.” The thought of ginger hair makes his stomach turn in distaste. “Just… say you won’t.”
“I won’t. If it’s important, you know I won’t. Have a little faith in me.”
The problem is he has a little too much. That he’s willing to trust Lumine with this is the ultimate test of his trust in her - in himself. The air feels cloying as he breathes it in, tinged with the scent of Lumine now that she’s in his space fully. He can nearly taste it as he opens his mouth and asks, “Will you kiss me, Lumine?”
“Oh.” She hums with a face that falls from happiness into something far, far softer. Brows tilt as she covers her heart with her free hand, fingertips pressing into her own skin until they turn white from the pressure, “Is this what’s got you so worked up? You thought I’d reject your feelings?”
“It’s not feelings, I-I’ve just never-”
“Oh, that’s a shame.”
He’s certain that sun has stopped. At least, he is frozen in time, mid-sentence and scrambling for footing now that she’s deftly kicked it out from under him. The implication isn’t entirely lost on him, though it flits from his grasp as Lumine’s hand falls to her lap.
“I’d be happy to show you. Do you… want to start now?”
Now? Honestly, he hadn’t expected to get this far. In fact, he assumed Lumine would laugh at his incompetence in these matters, then send him off with a wave of her hand and a jeer. Not that she’s ever really done that, at least not after his… mistake. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have assumed her memories of him from before had been wiped clean as well.
The hesitance on his face is blatantly clear. Lumine lets out a little sigh, tinged with nervous laughter that has no reason to exist when she holds the upper hand like this, and reaches her free hand out. Its destination is to his own hand in his lap, limp as she lifts it to hold with hers. Even this is novel, at least with the connotations it now holds thanks to his blunder.
“Alright, we’ll take it slow then. Do you trust me?”
“More than anyone.”
Embarrassment doesn’t have time to flood his veins before she’s squeezing his hand and lacing their fingers together. “That’s good to hear. If you let me lead, I’ll teach you until you don’t want to learn anymore, okay?”
Breathlessly he agrees, a long-slumbering giddiness beginning to bloom somewhere deep inside where it’d been forgotten.
#scaramouche#wanderer#genshin impact#lumine#scaralumi#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#scaramouche x lumine#wanderer x lumine#multi-part
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3 Immortals Walk Into an Inn
“Let go of me!” she screamed, trying to kick out at the man, terror and anger all at once giving her a mediocrum of strength. But this bastard was a cultivator, he has a golden core and- and he’s stronger than her. The pants she’s stolen and worn, torn, the long shirt she’d also stolen being torn open at that moment. Her dress was already left behind in the burning manor, and now- now she knew her mistake, trusting this man merely because he said she could be strong, even though she was a woman. Because everyone said cultivators were righteous and she- she so foolishly believed it. And now she was paying for it, but this time the man trying to ruin her didn’t have a sibling to hide her wounds from, he had no reason not to do this. To destory her body and soul-
Then he was thrown off of her and she crawled back, barely focusing as a giant black cat stood over her, snarling at the man- a person in white pointed a sword at him, long brown hair reaching far down their back. “How dare you-”
“Leave the child alone.” still covering herself, she blinks now, looking past this giant cat again to focus of the one in white, sword at that bastard’s throat. And- and its a woman. A female cultivator.
“Liar! You said they didn’t exist!” it’s so so terrible now in comparison to everything else. So minor in the face of what he’d been about to do. But she’s been violated so many times before that seems in truly little consequence to her.
“They do, I said that first, little one. They’re just weak though!”
“Not so weak as someone like you who will take advantage of a young child’s hope and light and use it to hurt and breka them, to use them for your own gain. Now leave, or you will not get far.” he laughs, laughs!, up at her, when he is below her sword point. Why doesnt she just kill him?!
“Oh please, like you could do anything to me! I’ve seen you around town, you refuse to hurt anyone!”
“I have taken a vow not to take a life again, you are correct. Far more observant than I'd thought. However, that does not mean you will escape this.” her sword moves away and she backs up. The giant cat moves off of her, and he finally notices it. The fear in his eyes is- incredibly pleasing to her. The cultivator puts a hand on the cat’s head and says a single word.
“Run.” he scrambles up and away, then out of sight rapidly. The cat doesn’t move.
“Take care of him, but do it like this.” then with what she thinks she hallucinates to be a grin, it takes off with a deep loud yeowl. The second the cat is gone, her eyes meet soft wide brown. “Oh you poor thing.” and now she’s being covered by the cultivator’s own outer robe. She tries to back away, still not trusting her. She doesn’t dare trust anyone anymore! “I’m sorry, I can only imagine what you’ve been through. But let’s get you someplace warm, i can escort you someplace if you need some work, or is your fami-”
“It’s just me!” she snaps, glaring ar ther but clings to the only thing covering her properly. Just to make sure, she glances back at the house, the manor, a short ways away, still smoking. And yes, yes he was dead long before she set the fire. He was- he was gone.
The sudden realization had tension leaving her body. She was finally free. A soft noise comes from the cultivator, which has her focusing again, looking over. She tries to keep glaring, anger keeps her safe now, but it’s hard to hide the fear. And those brown eyes- the last person to look so gently and warmly at her, without pity or anything dark, was- she doesn’t move any closer, they stay quiet for a while. “What if I don't have- anywhere else to go?”
“You could travel with me and my companion until we find someplace you do wish to stay. My name is Xie Lian.” She doesn’t bother to answer her, but now she looks over and smiles, standing as the large cat comes back. It’s got blood on its maw and its paws. And oh that feels good to see.
“Is he dead?” he finds himself asking the cat, it looks over. She finds herself surprised at its silver eyes. But then its lips curl a bit and it purrs, walking over to lay behind her, and licking the blood from its paws. Xie Lian sighs, shaking her head. “Now you stop that. Go on, I'll call you if I need you again Xiao-Xian.” Wait, what?
“You’re calling a giant black wild cat that just killed that bastard- ‘little’?” she asks incredulously. The cat shakes behind her like it’s laughing as Xie Lian sighs.
#xie lian#wei wuxian#shen qingqiu#heaven official's blessing#mo dao zu shi#scum villian self saving system#genderbend#future fic#ficlet
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Children of the Dark: Part Two
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Author’s Note: So sorry I keep forgetting to post. I’ve been so busy at work, I try to keep up with the schedule I’ve outlined. I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated
You, Emily, and JJ enter the hospital since you thought it was a good idea to bring the women along. The survivor, Carrie, might open up if there are all women around. Men attacked her, so you want to do everything you can to make her feel comfortable.
"She's lucky to be alive," her doctor says. "The injection went into the soft tissue of the arm and missed the vein."
"That's a first. This guy doesn't miss."
"We have to think about the possibility that he didn't miss."
"Like I said, she's lucky."
"Is she awake?"
"She's in and out. Keep in mind she's suffering the effects of an acute barbiturate overdose. She's drowsy and confused."
"Can we see her?"
"Sure."
The doctor takes you to her room where Carrie is. She has an empty look on her face, but when she sees you three, she tries to look more lively. She may not remember what happened fully, but she looks like a strong girl.
"Hi Carrie. My name is Y/N, and they are Emily and JJ. Do you mind if we talk to you about what happened?"
All she does is shake her head. You take a seat at the edge of her bed, but you don't touch her.
"Just tell us whatever you can. Anything that you can think of."
"I went to get a bag... but when I got back, there were two of them."
"What did the other one look like?"
"Heavier... Hispanic... Quiet. He never looked straight ahead."
"What do you mean?"
"Like, a few times, I felt him staring at me. When I looked up, he always looked away."
"He was avoiding eye contact," you say to your coworkers.
"Then my dad came in from the study, and they jumped him. They made Danny call for my mom, and they tied them up. Then one of them went over, got the thing from the fireplace, he started hitting them with it. And they made us watch."
She is starting to get emotional about this, which is understandable.
"Okay, you know what? We can take a break," JJ says, but Carrie stops her immediately.
"No. You need this, right?" Like you said earlier, she is a strong girl. "After a while, the quiet one took Danny away, and the other one just started going through drawers, looking for stuff. I ran."
She explains that the quiet one took a family picture of her when she was younger right before she left. She didn't want to leave her brother, but she was going to die if she stayed there. She is going to have survivor's guilt, and that is something you wish you could prevent her from feeling.
Carrie isn't up for many questions after that, but luckily, you got enough to paint a vivid picture. You head back to the station to see what the other half of the team found out. Hotch, Derek, and Spencer went to talk to the witnesses, and you're eager to hear what they have to say.
"A witness says these unsubs are using cats. We should find out where they might be getting them," Hotch says.
"There's plenty of strays out there. Nobody would notice if a few went missing," Derek shrugs. "Or they could work someplace where they had access to animals."
"It could overlap with the pentobarbital--research labs and veterinary hospitals," Spencer nods.
"I'll get Garcia to make up a list for it."
"Casrrie told us that the unsubs referred to each other as brothers," you say.
"It's not uncommon for duos to be related. The Hillside Stranglers were cousins. The Carr brothers perpetrated the Wichita massacre."
"Yeah, but these two are of different races, and Carrie said the hispanic one did not speak Spanish, which makes me think that he was raised in a white household. Maybe they're half brothers."
"What if they're adopted? Family destruction plays a role in the crimes. It could be a reflection of their own broken home," Spencer asks.
"Could be in a foster home," you shrug.
"This guy expressed affection for Carrie. We know he took her photograph. We could use that. If we release news of her survival, it might draw him out." Emily scrunches her face up, and Hotch notices that. "Not comfortable with that?"
"Not so much uncomfortable but worried. I'd be more comfortable if we doubled her security."
"Go back to the hospital and see to it."
Only Emily and JJ go to the hospital this time while you hang back at the station. You and Spencer are inside the conference room while he is putting up the new evidence on the bulletin board.
"How are you doing in the hotel?" Spencer asks.
"I miss my bed," you chuckle. "I didn't really stay in hotels ground up since my family owned a farm with plenty of room, but I never really liked hotels. They're too organized and perfect. I've been staying there for a couple of weeks now, and I can already tell they want me out. My landlord voided the rest of my lease. I'm just glad I worked out a deal with work that they'll take something out of every paycheck to help pay for the hotel room."
"I'm sorry that happened. You're always welcome at my place."
"I know, I just don't know when I'll find a new place. I had a good deal on my apartment. All these places are super expensive even for a studio. I'll figure it out."
Spencer has that same look on him as he did back in the briefing room before you left for Denver. You want to question it, but the rest of the team filters in. Emily is back while JJ stays at the hospital. Carrie got cleared, but her entire family was murdered. JJ tried to get in contact with her family in California, but no such luck. Ever since the news aired about a survivor, people have been sending flowers to Carrie's room. Emily noticed that the placement of the flowers were the exact same as in the Ortiz' house when they were murdered.
Emily is talking with Penelope now to see if she can track the flower delivery, even if the lead is dead.
"What did you find out, Reid?" Derek asks.
"This is the Laybourne house where we believe our unsubs graduated from robbery to murder."
"Did you find a trigger?"
"Not until I looked at the daughter's autopsy reports. Check out the bruises on her torso." The bruises on her torso looks like someone had beaten her, but the bruises don't look fresh. They look old, as if someone inside the family was beating her. "She was beaten, but not by the unsubs. The coroner noted those bruises were several days old. It turns out she'd been to the emergency room three times in less than two years. The DS had even been notified."
"So, the Laybournes' were abusing their daughter. Where's this going?" Hotch asks.
"One of the unsubs decimates parental figures, but we know the statistics there. It's... It's likely he was abused himself."
"So, you're saying the unsub recognized the signs of abuse, flew into a rage, and killed the parents?" you ask.
"Anger displacement. He's getting revenge for his own childhood abuse."
"So, you think what, the victims were beating their kids?" Nellis wonders.
"No, the Laybourne case was just the trigger, but now they see all parents the same."
"That doesn't explain the kids."
"Maybe it does," you speak up. "Think of the family annihilators John List and Mark Barton. They thought they were saving their kids by killing them."
"But what is he saving them from?" Nellis wonders.
"Life without their parents, without love, life like his. They're orphans. What if they both grew up in a third-party household? Like a foster home."
"Didn't Carrie describe an aversion to eye contact?" Hotch asks you, and you nod.
"Oppositional Defiant Disorder. Often seen in kids who grew up in foster homes."
"Guys, I think we may have found our girl's secret admirer," Emily says, walking into the room. "The flowers were paid by phone with a credit card under the name Robert Serrano."
You knew from the minute you got to the Serrano house that everyone inside was dead. Their energies spill onto the street, but the thing you notice the most is the presence of the two unsub's energies. The quiet one is kind of scared and unsure about what he does, but the other one is angrier than ever.
You walk into the house feeling sad because of what happened, but also enraged that these monsters struck again.
"The flowers weren't the only thing they bought on that stolen credit card. Thirty-one dollars worth of gas at a station three blocks from here," Derek reads from the credit card statements.
"Hey, Paul. See if you can pull the security camera footage from the gas station. ID that car."
"You got it," Paul nods, leaving the group to do what was asked of him.
"The security chain has been broken. They couldn't lie their way in this time," Hotch notices.
"The media blew their MO. Everyone is on alert now that they know what's going on. They're speeding up because they feel us getting close."
"This is close?" Nellis asks you.
Your phone rings before you get a chance to answer him, and you see that it's Penelope calling you. You answer it and put her on speakerphone so Nellis can hear.
"What's up, Pen?"
"I got a match of felons in the Denver area with foster backgrounds, stressed on assaults and burglaries. I had to cross reference it with offenders having access to small animals and pentobarbital. I got a hit of nine names, and I just sent them over."
"Now we're close," you say to Nellis after hanging up.
The only way you're going to narrow the nine names down to the one you're looking for is if Carrie is here to identify them. She is the only one who can do this, even if Emily hates the idea. She's been taking a liking to the young girl, kind of like a mother figure that Carrie lost. You're not sure what will happen if Carrie's family in California doesn't answer, but you have a feeling Emily is going to be the one to step in.
You already dealt with having a child, you don't think you can do it again. You look over at Spencer and smile to yourself. At least... not now.
Instead of bringing everyone in and alarming one half of the killing duo, Hotch printed out the pictures and laid them out so when Carrie looks at them, she can easily point out to the one who did this to her. Nellis got the car's ID from the gas station's CCTV cameras, but only a partial plate was able to be seen. When Carrie came into the police station, she easily pointed out the person who did this to her.
Ervin Robles. Last known address is 39 Hill Street. He is also employed at the Denver City Pound.
Emily and JJ stayed with Carrie at the station while Derek and Spencer went to Robles' house. You and Hotch headed to the City Pound in hopes he's at one of the places. The owner or manager of the pound is in the back cleaning out one of the cages using an industrial power cleaner.
"Excuse me, sir. I'm agent Hotchner with the FBI. This is agent Y/N. We're looking for Ervin Robles."
"Ervin's off till the weekend."
"Do you have any idea where we might find him?"
"You might want to try his apartment."
"Our other agents are there right now. He's not there," you say. "Where do you send his checks?"
"He picks them up. What's this about?"
"We'd just like to talk to him," Hotch says without alarming the older man. "Who can we talk to that actually knows him?"
"Well, nobody, really. He comes in, does his job, and leaves. Real quiet. Efficient, though."
"What does he do here?" you ask.
"His actual title is animal care technician, but he's kind of the on-site Kevorkian."
Ervin is supposed to be taking care of the animals, but instead, he's been euthanizing the animals. It's how he has access to pentobarbital.
"We need you to call him."
The manager does as he's told, but Ervin didn't answer the phone. Instead, he leaves a voicemail for Ervin asking him to come into work. While you wait, you get a message that Derek and Spencer are back from Ervin's place. You and Hotch excuse yourself, heading to the front of the property where the two men are.
"The supervisor left a message for Ervin to come in right away. Work emergency. He also said a man stopped by yesterday, got into a heated argument with Ervin. The description sounded a lot like the one Carrie gave."
"Did he say what Ervin and his partner were fighting about?"
"He couldn't hear it."
"We need a name on this guy," Spencer sighs.
"Well, until we find Ervin, there's only one person that can tell us that."
"The foster mom."
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Aww it makes me so sad to see that Isaac isn’t requested much :(( if you aren’t too busy, could you write a story where the reader is actually a physicist and so at first, when Isaac isn’t paying much attention to her arrival at the mansion, the reader is just so awestruck of him that she’d take her chances living with vampires just to see his work in real time (and it helps that she finds everyone there quite funny). And then Isaac slowly realizes that the reader actually knows what she’s talking about and starts to seek her presence whenever he’s doing work? And it just turns into a huge pining situation where eventually he’s just so enamored by the reader, probably more enamored than the reader is with him? Please feel free to take any liberties with the story and any details in between!! Thank you :)
I love writing Isaac. Have I mentioned that before? Hm. Well, this one came out longer than intended and I can't be sorry ^_^ 4500 words of longing and fluffy fullfillment.
Isaac felt her eyes on him every time he left his lab or the privacy of his room. Watching him like some hungry wolf at the edges of his enforced solitude. He thought if he ignored her, she might go away. Find someone else to stare at. But no. She followed him from a distance through the hall, pretending interest in a book she held. Yet he could feel her eyes on him.
It was entirely too much. Newton turned, his cherry blossom eyes dark with anger. “What do you want?”
She regarded him calmly. “I’m sorry? I was just reading.” She raised the book in her hands slightly. “Hawking is simply fascinating.”
“I’m sure he is. That doesn’t excuse the way you are always following me. Watching me. Pretend to read if you like, but do it someplace else!”
“I’d rather not. Le Comte says I can go where I like in the mansion. If it happens to be where you are . . . well, that’s not my fault.”
Isaac pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. Girl. I am asking you as nicely as I can. Please. Go away! You are distracting me and it’s slowing my studies. Just today, I was on the cusp of a new theorem describing . . .” He searched for the right word, “relativity of gravitational mechanisms.”
She smiled. “Einstein’s theory of special relativity then? But honestly, you could probably skip to general relativity and fill in the rest by reading through his research.”
“Einstein? Who is that? What are you going on about?”
“The basis of his work is really an outgrowth of Principia. I think you’d enjoy it. I have a book you can borrow if you like. Or we could sit down over a coffee and -”
Isaac scowled. “Is this some attempt to get in my good graces? No. I’m not interested in whatever you are attempting. I’m not here to make friends. Now leave me alone.”
Her smile fell. “Fine. If you like, Sir Newton.”
He could tell by her tone that her feelings were quite hurt. He felt . . . guilty over it. But really, he told himself, it was her own fault. Invading his space, his quiet, and then parading some tidbit of future fluff to taunt him. Isaac watched her stalk past him and down the stairs. At least this would mean an end to her haunting him, he hoped.
The next few days proved him right. She still brought by his meals and snacks, but she left them at his door. Her familiar presence disappeared from his walks through the garden and his movements in the mansion’s endless halls. Isaac found himself checking for her, but she was never there. Which was good. Jolly good. Yes. He was alone again, as he wished.
Nearly a week passed before he ran across her again, in the library this time. Chatting excitedly with Leonardo. They’d set out a great chalk board and there were equations scribbled across it in cramped writing.
Isaac couldn’t help the way his eye was drawn to it. Reading through the signs and variables with an academic’s hunger. His brows rose as the formulae began to come together for him. He turned to the Italian. “What’s this you’re studying now?”
Leo grinned. “Not me. Cara, here, has some fascinating ideas. Never thought about time as a physical force, hey?”
“I can’t take credit. Hawking’s work is phenomenal. Of course, I’d love to figure out the exception le Comte’s door exploits. If the nature of physical laws denies the possibility of backward travel in time, I shouldn’t be here. Yet I am.” She laughed, the sound as pure and clear as the chime of a bell.
Isaac could not help but smile. There was something about her that made him feel warm. But the expression fell away a heartbeat later. Was this another ploy of hers to get a look at his research? Pretending an expertise to get into his confidence? He turned to leave.
“Hey! Why don’t you stick around? Might be fun, the three of us figuring out the universe, right?” Leonardo’s amber eyes were crinkled at the sides with his wide smile.
She was smiling too, her head tilted a bit to the side.
For some reason, their encouragement set him on edge. “I really must go.” His response was stiff, and he hurried out before they could say anything else. The library door slammed shut behind him.
Laughter followed him down the hall, merry and bright, sweet as sunlight. He reached his room and closed the door on all of it. In the quiet, he tried to regain his composure. Truly, the girl was some sort of witch. She’d even got Leonardo under her spell. But Isaac was no pureblood layabout. He had his research and no need of company. He wasn’t tempted. Not in the least. He resolved to ignore her even more thoroughly.
His mind, however, refused the directive. He sat with his pen poised above his notes, the ink drying uselessly on the nib as his thoughts drifted back to her smile and her voice, and her wit. She was smart enough, learned enough, to ensnare da Vinci. Perhaps, a small voice in him argued, perhaps she was worth a conversation?
Isaac tried to silence it, but the idea wouldn’t go away. He realized that to get anything done, he’d need to oblige. One conversation. She’d show her knowledge to be shallow, reveal her intention, and then he could forget about her interference. Simple.
That evening, when he heard his tray settle on the floor beyond his door, he sprang up and threw the door open. Poor Sebas fell back, wide-eyed.
“You?”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Is something wrong?”
Isaac scanned the hall, but she was nowhere in sight.
“Perhaps you are looking for the girl?” Sebas’ mouth curled in a slight smile.
“Why would you say that?”
“A guess?” He shrugged. “I apologize for the assumption. But if you were looking for her, she’s gone to town. Meeting with some school boys, I understand.”
“School boys?” Isaac took a breath, trying to force down a rising sense of . . . worry? Yes, worry. A young, objectively attractive (not that he found her so, of course!) woman shouldn’t be wandering town alone. Especially not to meet ruffians from some Parisian college.
Sebastian nodded. “She dearly wanted to attend the college, but with no sponsor and her being female . . . well, she settled for a correspondence with some of the natural philosophy students. Today they are meeting at a cafe. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. No reason. She can dig her own grave.” Isaac grabbed the tray and shut the door. If the girl wanted to chat up those idiots, it was none of his business. None at all. And if she got into trouble . . . well . . . well . . .
There was no help for it. Isaac grabbed his coat and shoes and headed for the door.
“Where to, old boy? I thought you were cloistered with a new idea?” Arthur interrupted his progress.
Isaac gave a sigh of pure annoyance. “None of your business. Now if you’ll step aside.”
“Probably rushing off to town after Hondje,” Theo said, stepping out from a nearby doorway.
“After Toshiko-san? Why would you do that, Apple-chan?” The third face of torment, Dazai, appeared behind Arthur.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, would you all just leave me be?” Isaac’s glare encompassed them all, but it didn’t have the intended effect.
Arthur cracked a grin and Theo laughed. Dazai’s smirk implied more than any polite man might say.
Vincent opened the door behind the grinning jackals, canvas and paints in hand. He took in the smiles and cocked his head. “Are you all going someplace?”
“We are, broer.” Theo nudged Isaac. “Newt here is going to town to check on Hondje, so we all decided to come along.”
“That sounds fun,” Vincent enthused. “Can I come along too?”
“Of course.” Theo nodded.
Arthur gave a little groan. “Oh come on. With him along, the birds’ll be completely distracted. He’s got that innocent act down to perfection.”
Dazai glanced up. “I don’t see any birds, Arthur-kun, but if I do, I will toss them to you.”
“At me, more like, you devil.”
Everyone but Isaac laughed. “Look, you heathens, I don’t need or want you along. I can do this on my own. And I - I’m not checking on anyone! I’m just going into town. For myself.”
“Sure you are. Anyway, we’re all going the same direction, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with us Newt.” Theo’s smile was enigmatic.
There was no easy way to shake them, so Isaac wound up stuffed into a carriage with Dazai, Arthur, Theo, and Vincent. He supposed himself lucky that Jean and Napoleon hadn’t shown up too. As it was, The carriage only comfortably sat four so Vincent was perched on Theo’s lap. Add two more and Isaac knew just where he’d end up.
“Eh, one question though. Does anyone know where we’re headed?” Vincent asked innocently.
Arthur grinned. “A good detective always gathers clues before heading out on a mission.”
“You mean Sebas told you where she went.” Theo scowled.
“Hey! That’s still a clue.”
“Would you both shut up?” Isaac rubbed his temples. They didn’t comply, of course. It was a very long ride into town.
Thankfully, the carriage let them off close to the cafe. Isaac half-hoped the four of them would bugger off somewhere, but they clung like burs and hurried him toward the cafe. A place called l' encre. Students hung around on the corners here and lounged by alleyways. Feral things, sharply dressed and sharper eyed. Wealthy young men with time on their hands and mischief in mind.
The girl was easy to spot. Sitting in a chair, legs clad with men’s pants, of all things. Dressed in a man’s shirt and vest with a waistcoat, she might have blended in - except that she was slighter of stature, set apart by her heritage from these Parisians, and her clothes only served to emphasize curves none of these boys could boast.
Isaac swallowed. He might have turned tail there, but for catching her eye through the glass. Her lips curved up in a slight smile before turning back to her conversation. That look beckoned him on. That, and his companions practically carrying him bodily across the threshold.
The five of them swarmed to her table, ignoring the waiter’s objections.
“What’s this, luv? Going out without me?” Arthur settled an arm over her shoulder.
Theo smiled thinly at the boys. “And who are your friends?”
“Yes, Toshiko-san, who are these men you’ve ensnared?” Dazai stood behind her chair.
Isaac cleared his throat. “Uhm. Yes. My . . . dear. Ah.” He felt an uncomfortably heat in his face. What was he even saying? He sounded like an idiot.
She laughed. “I didn’t realize I needed to clear my friends with roommates. Fine.” She gestured around the table, giving the names of the students. And then she gestured to the vampires. “These are my roommates. We share neighboring . . . apartments. Anyway, this one is Arthur. He’s a wanna-be writer and detective.”
“Oh, like that Holmes fellow? Or was it Watson?”
“Holmes. Yes. Like that but if Holmes weren’t as smart as he thinks he is and a pervert to boot.” She nodded enthusiastically, ignoring Arthur’s scowl. “And this one is Dazai. A gambler with hearts and money. The other is Theo. He’s an art dealer with a penchant for awful nicknames.”
“What’s that, Hondje?”
“Don’t make me throw my coffee at you, dutchman.” She lifted the cup lightly from the saucer in mock threat. “The blondie is Vincent. He’s a painter and . . . well, he’s an angel.”
She didn’t introduce Isaac. He cleared his throat. Her eyes landed on him in challenge.
“I’m . . . I’m Isaac. A physicist.”
“He means a shut-in hedgehog. But he might know a little math too.” She grinned. At his offended expression, she relented. “Alright, alright. Isaac is a bonafide genius. But he doesn’t like to share so don’t expect he’ll tutor you like I do.”
“A genius?” One of the boys looks surprised. “Is he the one you -”
“Ah, hey! Weren’t you going to buy me a fancy ice?” She interrupted the boy. “You promised if you passed your midterm that you would. You passed, right?”
He grinned. “Second highest score in class. Alright. I’ll get your fancy ice.”
The other boys were clamoring with questions. Was she dating any of her roommates (no), was she working with Isaac on a project (no), was she consulting with Arthur on a case or a book (no), was she modeling for Vincent (yes), and so on. Some of them turned their attention on Isaac, quizzing him as it were.
At first, he felt annoyed but his frustration fell away in the face of their honest curiosity and desire to learn. Between himself and the girl, they had a lively conversation on the topic of planetary motion. One which quickly lost the other mansion residents.
Theo and Arthur slapped him on the back and took off for the tavern. Dazai slipped off to start a card game with the waiter (a small wager, of course!). Only Vincent stayed, sketching something in his little notebook.
Isaac barely realized he was having fun, enjoying an actual conversation with the girl and her students - and they were her students, he understood. They’d been exchanging letters for weeks now, and the boys were fully enamored of her. He could see why. Her knowledge was not shallow or casual. She drew connections between information intuitively, her math was flawless. She had methods of explaining complex ideas that were new to him, and Isaac found himself becoming enamored as well. Of her mind - of course! Logic was appealing in any body. Yes. Only that.
Only Vincent could see the way his smile gentled as it rested on her. The slight close of distance between them. The way Isaac’s eyes lit up when she complimented him. Vincent saw, and captured the emotion with his pencils, unbeknownst to the scientists at the table.
Before Isaac knew it, the time had come for the cafe to close. The boys wanted to carry on at a pub nearby, but the girl begged off. “I’m tired,” she said. “And there’ll be another day. Besides, logic is harder with a beer in hand,” which drew a round of laughter.
The two of them found themselves in Vincent’s company, with Dazai, Theo, and Arthur gone off to who knows where. “Should we go look for them,” Isaac asked.
“No. I know where to find mijn broer. I’ll fetch him. I bet Arthur and Dazai are there too.” Vincent smiled like a little ray of sun in the dark night. “Why don’t you two head home? We can catch another carriage back. Less crowded that way.”
“Brilliant,” Isaac agreed. He didn’t look forward to jamming himself into a small space with the four of them again. And the girl as well. She’d have to sit somewhere. His heart did something odd in his chest. A squeezed, tight sensation. Escalated speed. Perhaps he’d had too much coffee.
He hailed a carriage and they climbed in, sitting opposite each other. The space was narrow enough that his knee knocked against hers.
“Careful there,” she warned. “If you start accidentally touching people, it’s a slippery slope toward touching them on purpose.”
“I like touching people.” Isaac looked away from her and out the small window. “If - if I know them well. I think I would.”
She laughed softly. “Alright then. If you say so.” Then she fell silent.
When he looked her way again, she was leaning against the side of the bench, eyes closed. He had to admit, she was quite attractive. More than just objectively so. He wanted to ask her where she’d learned so much. To show her his notes, to read what she had about this relativity theorem. And time and black holes. And whatever was a Kuiper Belt. But that was madness, of course. She’d just take his ideas or discredit him or argue incessantly. That was what came of sharing your work.
Isaac sighed. Even if he knew better, he couldn’t help but imagine what it might be like to have her as a - a friend. Pure foolishness, of course. And yet.
The change between them was slight at first. Hellos in the hallway. Conversation at breakfast. She began to bring his food to his lab or into his room, and sometimes, she’d stay a moment longer than needed. They’d exchange a few words.
Those moments began to stretch and those few words became full blown conversations. She brought her notebooks. He showed her some of his. Conversations turned into whole afternoons and those bled into late nights.
Isaac was surprised to find himself relaxed in her presence. She teased, sometimes, but gently. And she never insulted his work or belittled his knowledge, even when it became clear the modern understanding of astrophysics far outstripped his foundational ideas. He began to read the books she’d begged from le Comte. Tomes out of time, here. Future knowledge.
And he began to look forward to her visits. Every day, he’d wake thinking of all the things he wanted to tell her. Wondering what he might ask her today. Imagining her smile as they talked.
As they sat in the garden one afternoon, weeks after that night at the cafe, she asked him, “Are we friends, Isaac?”
Startled, he gave a cautious nod. “I would . . . guess so. I,” he paused, considering his words. “I am very fond of you.”
“You too,” she smiled.
He wasn’t sure what she meant. That she thought of him as a friend? Or that she was fond of him? Both? But he felt awkward asking, and the moment passed. It bothered him intensely for days. What were her feelings for him, after all? Did she think of him as often as he did of her? He avoided her as he stewed over it.
The answer she gave might have been meant as a polite rejection. And wouldn’t that figure. Every friend Isaac ever had turned false. Was he only a resource? An entertainment? The questions made him feel ill. Hot and cold at once. Nauseous. His worries were proven out in the way she allowed his aversion. He snapped at her just once, and she began to leave his trays at the door again.
He heard her waltzing about the mansion. Laughing. Chatting. Flirting. Like a tart. He watched her one afternoon from the balcony as she went about the garden. Somehow, she’d talked Napoleon into carrying the watering can.
Leon was telling her stories and she was smiling. She looked radiant. Her sundress swayed, her hair fell in silken waves. He could hear her laughter. It was a weight on his chest. Isaac felt as if he couldn’t breathe. As if something in his chest was broken.
Worried, he forced himself to Arthur’s door. “Excuse me,” he said stiffly.
Arthur looked up from his typewriter. “Hm? What is it, Newt?”
“I - I think I may be ill.”
“Oh? Can’t promise I’ll be able to tell you anything but come in. Let’s have a looksee.”
Isaac sat in one of Arthur’s chairs.
“So, tell me the symptoms. We’ll start there.” Arthur set his wrist to Isaac’s forehead and then began to check his pulse as the physicist related his condition. Erratic heartbeat, a chest ache, nausea, shortness of breath, intense thirst, and so on.
Arthur nodded, his lips pursed. “When did this start?”
“A few weeks ago, I suppose.”
“Mhmm. And is there a common factor? Something that sets this off?” Arthur raised a brow.
“No. No, it’s happened in a few places and nothing was -” he stopped, considering. The symptoms came on when she was around. When she was around but distant. Too far for him to be the cause of her smile. Too distant for her eyes to meet his, for her hand to brush his arm.
Isaac swallowed. “I - I think I shall be fine. Sorry to waste your time.”
Arthur’s smile was mischievous. “Think of something, old boy?”
“No. No. Nothing. I’ll be going.” He hurried away, afraid the writer would see all the way through to the truth of the matter as Isaac just had.
The fact was, he was in love. Isaac. A man too busy for relationships. Too devoted to study for banal romance. And yet this woman had caught his heart without him even realizing it. Did she know?
He tried to avoid her, but damn it all. Everything reminded him of her. His studies. His food. He could smell her light perfume, hear her voice everywhere he went. Isaac found himself stalking her through the mansion. Finding the places she had been, only moments before. Finding himself there, for no reason other than her, embarrassed by the tumult of his heart.
Sometimes, he would sit in a place she’d just left, to feel her warmth. It was almost like getting to touch her. But it would leave him empty, thirsty, and desolate. If this was love, he didn’t want it. He needed it to end, one way or another. This half-life could not go on. If she rejected him, then he could pick up the shards of his heart and go on. And if she . . . if she could feel as he did, if she loved - no, even simply liked - him . . . He didn’t allow his thoughts to dwell on that impossibility.
Isaac sought her out. He had to settle this. Confront her. Confess.
He found her in the kitchen, alone. She didn’t notice him coming in. She was mixing something in a bowl. It smelled of sugar and cinnamon, fruit and flowers. Her sundress was the same, but her hair was pinned up in a messy bun. Her exposed neck looked smooth as silk, soft as sin.
Drawn forward, Isaac found himself a mere handspan from her. His throat burned, dry and hot as the desert. The ache in his heart expanded, a fracture in the planes of his being. His hands reached unbidden for her, settling around her waist.
She yelped in surprise and dropped her spoon, spinning in his grasp. Now nose to nose with him, she smiled. “Isaac! What are you doing sneaking up on me? I almost had a heart attack!”
“Mmmm,” he replied intelligently. His words didn’t seem to want to make an appearance. Accusations or protestations of love both lost in her proximity. Isaac realized in that moment that more than anything, he wanted to bite her. He wanted his mark on her throat. Like some savage beast. Detestable as the thought was though, he could not force himself to let go.
“What is it,” she asked, smile fading to worry. “Did you miss your afternoon snack?”
He had, in fact, but that had nothing to do with it. “You . . . should . . . probably go,” he rasped.
She bopped him on the nose. “Easily said. You have quite the grip.” When he didn’t loosen his hold, she sighed. “Well, come on. We’ll get you some Rouge.” She sidled left and he let himself move with her. They stopped beside a shelf that held their supply of Rouge and Blanc.
Carefully, she pulled down a bottle and uncorked it. “Here. Have this before you do something you’ll regret, hm?”
Isaac didn’t want the rouge. It smelled good, yes, but nothing like the scent of her skin. The warmth of it.
She must have seen something of that in his eyes. “Oh Isaac. You will hate me for it tomorrow. But here.” She turned her head, baring her throat.
He should have told her no. To refuse. To do anything but what his body begged of him. He didn’t. Isaac lifted her up to sit on the counter, placing her throat perfectly at level. Then with a reverence in defiance of his bestial desires, his lips found her throat. He kissed her there, as if to bless the wound he was about to make. And then he could resist no more.
She gasped as his teeth parted her skin and loosed the red liquor of her veins.
Isaac heard her only distantly. He was drunk on her blood the moment it stained his lips. She was fire and honey. The sun and all the attendant stars. He worshipped at her feet as he suckled at her neck. There was nothing to compare to this. Not god. Not knowledge. Nothing held a candle to her.
“Isaac,” she whispered, the last word she said before her breath was stolen in a wave of inhuman pleasure. The side effects of the vampire’s hunger. She clung to him until she went limp from it.
When he came to himself, they were lying on the floor of the kitchen. Her blood was drying on his cheeks. She rested against his chest, her fingers entwined with his.
He felt ashamed, panicked. His attempt at confession had backfired spectacularly. And now . . . now she would hate him. Isaac tried to disentangle himself but she wouldn’t release him. His struggles woke her.
Blearily, she lifted her head and blinked at him. “Got something on your face,” she murmured.
“What?”
“On your face.” Her smile was tired but pleased. “My blood.”
Isaac felt his heart stop. “Are you . . . teasing me?”
She nodded. “Got to. You’re too serious.”
“But . . . I bit you!”
“And?”
He gaped. “You might have died!”
“And?”
“Don’t you . . . don’t you want to live?” He felt a sudden unexpected coldness in him at that thought. That she might court death. That she might die and be lost to him completely.
She laughed breathily. “Of course. Idiot. You weren’t going to kill me.” She sat up, still holding to his hand. “Took you long enough though. I was beginning to think you hated me.”
“I could never hate you! You were the one that - that didn’t say what you meant,” he protested.
“What are you talking about?” She gave him a confused look.
“When I said I was fond of you. You, you didn’t say it back.” He couldn’t help how his lips tightened into a pout.
“Are you serious?” She laughed. Then she leaned forward and before he could protest, she kissed him. Her lips were electric, a circuit closed between them as they touched. A heavenly spark, a fire - kindled, a star born.
“Fond,” she sighed, as she broke from the kiss. “I am so much more than fond. I -”
“I love you,” he interrupted her. “I love you. And I’m going to lock you in my room and never let you out again.” He stood and lifted her to him, his vampiric strength so much more than his sleight, slim frame would give.
“You have to let me out sometimes,” she laughed, but didn’t struggle. “How else will Sebas get anything done around here?”
“Sometimes, then,” he grumbled, pretending to be displeased. But there was no taking the smile from his face as he carried her upstairs.
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@badnikbreaker: "Sonic!" The hedgehog's voice rings out, cheerful and excited and impossible to miss — she speeds to his side and skids to a stop, kicking up snow as she does. Amy's typical sweet cheerfulness is through the roof; clearly, she's excited!! About seeing him, and about the carefully - wrapped boxes between their mittened hands. "I wanted to get this to you soon, juuust in case you ended up traveling someplace before Christmas was done! So — here!" They hold out the box, cheeks flushed with cold and affection both, smile huge, rocking on their heels.
Inside is — well, there's quite a bit. One box is trinkets and sweets, small : homemade cookies, of course. Homemade chocolates, too. A few photos, to add to an older gift. But what has Amy so excited is something else — the other, larger box.
This one is trinkets; some of it's clothes, as if he ever wears them. More of it is pieces of memories, though. She's heard Sonic talk, animated and more chatty than he ever is otherwise, about his travels, geography, places he's been and wants to be. A jacket from Green Hill, the characteristic checkerboard pattern. A small stone, rough in the way only what once was lava can be, from West Side Island. A postcard from Soleanna. Pressed flowers, dried but kept safe, from Kronos Island. A baseball she'd bought from Station Square with the city's silhouette on the front — and a special, Amy - sewn heart on the back.
A necklace, made from stones from Quartz Quadrent zone in Little Planet, carved and smoothed in a careful heart. They'd exchanged feelings before names, after all; that moment will always live on in their heart.
And more. It's...a bit much, they're aware, even by Amy's standards. But it had seemed right! Some of the places Sonic has been have been frightening or dangerous, but they're all a part of him and his story — and Amy loves every bit. They know Sonic does, too.
"You don't have to open them now! Actually, there's a lot — it might be better to wait until you're home. But, well — Merry Christmas, Sonic!" Their smile goes, somehow, sweeter. "I love you!"
Sonic can’t be surprised when she arrives unnannounced — her ability to find him, anywhere, is an anomaly he’s long since accepted. And it’s funny, that something he once found bothersome (it was… difficult back then to appreciate the company of others) is now a source of amusement. Comfort.
“Woah, slow down!” He’s smiling, ready to catch a box or two in the event of them falling. This is how she usually greets him; bubbly and eager, so there’s nothing particularly interesting about it… what is, however, are the presents being offered to him. ‘Shoot,’ he thinks. ‘Christmas.’ It’d snuck up on him, much like everything else since they’d left the island.
And there’s a part of him (such a small part) that wishes the world could just… wait. Perhaps selfishly. Uncharacteristically. Sonic isn’t one for regrets, but his friends are here, making time, while he’s losing it, and — they smile at him, kind as always. He pushes the thought aside.
Well… what’s done is done, and he should enjoy this moment instead of lingering on the ones he’s forgotten.
“This is all for me?” He slides a thumb underneath the lid of the top box to peek inside, and is immediately greeted by the smell of sweetness. An Amy Rose speciality, no doubt; his nose twitches with delight. “Heh… leave it to you.” To make him feel loved.
Per their suggestion, the larger box would have to wait. He doesn’t want to risk anything being damaged by the snow (a convenient way to save himself some embarrassment). And holding such a display of affection in his hands, with nothing to give in return, he feels a touch of guilt alongside gratitude. Maybe there is something he can give them. Nothing like baked goods or pressed flowers, but….
It’s quick. The blink of an eye to anyone that isn’t them, but Amy can feel it. A closeness, a warmth, right against the side of her muzzle. A kiss. It’s chaste and tender, the first time he’s ever had his lips on her cheek, and he follows with a soft voice: “Merry Christmas, Amy.”
#◜✰ ◞ ‣ 𝐕𝟏. — an adventure's no fun if it's too easy! ❜#◜✰ ◞ ‣ 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐁𝐎𝐗. — carried by the wind. ❜#badnikbreaker#badnikbreaker: amy#sorry for answering this so late but hi rain
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game over
In the wake of the worst end, Aubrey & Kel confront their regrets.
When Aubrey gets home from work, she finds Basil stretched out across her bed.
“Aubrey, Aubrey, Aubrey!!!” he gasps, flitting to his feet. Like it’s some huge surprise, finding her in her own apartment. “I’ve been waiting!!!”
She doesn’t answer.
…What? It’s not mean. It’s not like he can actually hear her.
Aubrey isn’t crazy, okay? She knows he isn’t real. He's just some stupid memory that her stupid brain spat out after all the guilt and shame finally shoved her off the deep end. There’s no such thing as ghosts. If there was, she wouldn't have had to miss Mari so much, and none of this awful shit would even have happened.
He’s not even a very convincing daydream. Even if Basil wasn’t dead, it’s been years since he looked at her like that. His whole face shining with hope and adoration. Like she was—someplace safe.
“I’ve been soooo bored,” Basil burbles, trailing after her like a baby duck while she shrugs off her jacket and wings it at the couch. “I read all your books again but, Aubrey, you r-really don’t have very many books!! What do you do when you get lonely without any books to keep you company??”
Aubrey doesn’t have that problem, because Aubrey doesn’t get lonely. And she definitely doesn’t need company. Not anymore. Lesson learned, bridges burned, etcetera etcetera. The whole friendship game is a lot more trouble than it’s worth. Aubrey could take it or leave it.
It’s not like she didn’t try. She found a family once. Then they threw her away. Then she tried to make her own family, only she got the math wrong, and wound up with a mob of fucking murderers. A pack of bullies who would harass the world’s most pathetic little squirrel until he was ready to die just to be free of them.
(…Free of her.)
She’s not just talking a palmful of pills, either. Basil was so hungry to die, he was willing to do it in the dumbest, messiest, most painful way imaginable.
Can you even imagine driving a pair of pruning shears through your gut? Aubrey can. She tried it once. Not to kill herself, obviously—Aubrey’s not a quitter—but just to see how it would feel. Spoilers: it felt pretty fucking bad. She barely broke the skin before she lost her nerve.
And Basil was always reading those nerdy old paperbacks. Swords and magic and brave little nobodies who went on to accomplish great deeds. With all the bloody pre-industrial warfare he’d read about, he would’ve known that a gut wound is one of the worst ways to go. And somehow, that still sounded like a better time than living for another second with his own personal torturer asleep on his couch. 'Gee, I sure wish my old pal Aubrey would be a little nicer! Guess I’d better drive a pair of round-tip scissors through my fucking chest! Will I bleed out before I’ve finished digesting my organs? There’s only one way to find out!’
“A-Aubrey,” Basil sniffles. He’s still trying to smile, but she can see his eyes reddening. “Wh-Why are you ignoring me?? D-Did I… do something wrong?”
Fuck. Fuck her, she can’t fucking do this. She is so fucking pathetic.
“...Course not,” she says gruffly. “Sorry. I’ll… get some new books?”
His face lights up. It’s cute. Basil was always so cute, before she ruined him. “R-Really?? Oh, wow!! Oh, oh, can I make you a list? There’s this one series I want you to read, and—b-before you say anything, I know you don’t usually like fantasy, but—! I think you’ll really relate to the heroine!!”
You’re a splinter of a broken mind, you stupid nerd. What could you tell me that I don’t already know? “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah!!! She went through a lot, but she trained and trained so she could protect everyone, to make sure no one else would ever have to hurt like she did. She’s soooo cool and strong, and she always does what’s right. Just like you!!”
“Hah. Yeah. Sure.”
Read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46429294/chapters/117015964
#omori fanfic#omori photobomb#omori spoilers#knife end#abandon end#omori aubrey#omori basil#omori bushfire
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🖊 for any milo and/or reiji details they fascinate me ^-^
YES thank u they live in my brain
Let me go on a tangent before I even get to what this ask actually is cause why wouldn’t I- Milo and Reiji are interesting characters to compare to each other, because despite their entwined storylines, I don’t draw a lot of connections between them as they were designed. Characters that never interact are fun to draw conclusions with because it’s more obscure out-of-universe things: Julian and Milo are so different but they follow very similar paths and come from very similar places. Milo and Brooke (actually they do interact but only like, once) both deal with the results of a corrupted worldview that once questioned, can’t be ignored once again. Reiji and Diana share an inherently wary, bleak outlook on how the world functions as a result of their own experiences. And characters that do interact but were designed that way are... designed that way. Julian and Liliana are the same stuff poured into different molds, impossibly similar and impossibly different, and that drives everything about their relationship- they’re foils. Diana and Julian start at the same place in the same situation, (for different reasons), and end up wildly different people in opposite directions- they are diverging paths evidenced by truth or lies.
But Milo and Reiji aren’t connected by anything inherent or anything unchangeable. Their meeting in the first place is mostly chance and a little bit of give and take of compassion. They stick together because the alternative is being alone in a world that’s so much bigger than both of them, so much older, and just a little bit more broken. Their relationship is a choice in a way that really isn’t the case for a lot of other characters.
And I mean, they do have parallels, but they seem different somehow, because they actually apply in-universe. They reflect off each other. They both leave something behind that they wish they could get back: but while Reiji’s was taken from him by circumstance and chance, Milo’s was a culmination of something grown that eventually he had to choose to abandon, though if there was any other way, he would have taken it. (He tried, before. It didn’t work.)
But now they’re both missing something, and with it, their place. Reiji doesn’t know where he belongs and the truth is that he doesn’t belong anywhere. He can’t return to the one place he did- (it wasn’t a place, but a people. They’re long gone, even as they live) -and now he searches aimlessly for someplace he can return to. He doesn’t find one. Milo loses everything he’s ever known when he walks away, and even as he makes the decision to, it feels like the admission of some crime (it looks that way to them, and he knows it). He longs for the community he lost, but even if he gets something close to it, it’s wrong, because it isn’t them, and because the reason he left still follows him.
They’re both ghosts wandering a vast expanse of unknown. There is exploration in it- Milo especially does genuinely love the places he passes through, the people he meets briefly, the idiosyncrasies of each town, city, village. Reiji less so- he’s only ever known the wandering, so it isn’t as special to him. He’s always looking for something that will change, but even so, traveling with Milo forces him to see things he wouldn’t otherwise.
The difference between them is that Milo stops being a ghost. As time goes on, less and less is searching and more and more is exploring. More is fixed than is broken. But the opposite is true for Reiji. As he finds nothing it feels more and more like he is one of very, very few. That he has found no place to exist because there is no place for him, for those like him. Reiji is looking for answers in an environment that buried most of them, in a world that hunts the rest. And it becomes this obsession- a thousand whys.
Why didn’t his flock look for him? Why did he even survive? Why is he hunted? Why did it start and why won’t it change? Why is the world sitting on the ashes of an older one? Why are people broken by something they don’t remember? Why does every place he goes scream that there used to be more? Why are his people a part of it? Why are they here? Why do they occupy a world that is so clearly not made for them? Why does he not know where they are made for?
Reiji asks a thousand whys and they can all be summarized by one what: What happened?
Milo and Reiji cross incomprehensible distances and in the time that takes, a lot changes. Milo goes from being a ghost of who he was and who he should be to being alive in a way he wasn’t before, genuine in a way he didn’t allow. Milo looks for an answer in a different way than Reiji, because he is looking for certainty. He wants someone to tell him, with no room for error, what is true and what is corrupt. He wants surety and permanence in a way that just doesn’t exist, and so instead must choose which side he’s on- he must decide what to believe, because nobody can tell him black and white. With that choice becomes an acknowledgement that the world isn’t as simple as good and evil, and the two can very much coexist, that perfect and unredeemable don’t really exist, not here, anyway. He’s allowed to just be. Reiji, though, doesn’t get the opportunity to make that choice, to take that answer. He isn’t looking for the answer to a moral question or a cosmic should. He is looking for a reason, which is an order of magnitude more impossible to find. He looks to the past for why and the nature of time is that he keeps getting further and further from it. He finds very little, which only makes him look harder, which makes it worse when he finds even less. He starts down an impossible spiral that he can’t get out of until he finds what he wants, but what he wants just doesn’t exist in the way he needs.
#ask#ocs#this is... incomprehensible#mein gott. i didn't mean to do that. THANK YOU for enabling me but like.. goddamn#i HOPE they fascinate u because you are getting ABSOLUTE BATSHITTERY in response#basically uhhhhh i would like to formally apologize to reiji for making him like this? it wasn't my intent but now hes here#get fucked sketchbook boy#u ask for details i give u the rundown of their overall character arcs in the most vague way possible. good FUCKING luck#im so sorry. have fun?? idk IM having fun anyway. thank u queen for allowing this#they are just.. my little guys who are so incredibly fucked up. i will talk about them SO MUCH and i will be SO INSANE about them#i loveeee comparing characters to each other I love how they're different and the same i love foils and parallels and bullshit and arcs#i like how i started this like 'oh yeah milo and reiji arent actually that parallely' and then proceeded to say the exact opposite#i guess they arent on PURPOSE. the others that are are like that on purpose but these two just ended up that way#they're just guys. little dudes in a uhhhhhhhhhh environment a couple hundredish years post-natural apocalypse. you know. as you do#i have so many fuckin thoughts. probably could go on another tangent but this already turned out longer than i meant it to so i wont do that#i mean IF YOU WANT ME TO. but i shant#feel like a widow in a murder mystery. '~ive already said too much...'#ya know. whadever man its 1am again. pleace daniel we can't keep doing this
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Maybe I am already mad.
Maybe that’s why I see it.
The way they study me, disgustingly dissecting every aspect of me, attempting to fracture and infect me. I see they think they’ve won but I won’t let them run into hiding. I see it in their eyes.
All these different sides of me, fighting endlessly. A war that waged and many wagering victory, casualties laughed off as another set of losses are reported in. It doesn’t matter in the end . . .
Balance is made awfully fragile, and the stillness of every beat leads every moment to feel like a bleak and all-to-slow show of how weak I’ve truly become. I want to run but they have every escape under a watchful eye. Shall I be captured, they are sure to pry for anything they can find.
I hide within my own minds, looking for signs of a rescue. Temporary safe havens commonly raided and a flee in search of someplace new to blend in. Within this war zone I am left nearly alone. The numbers of all sides slowly thinning, I wonder if it is a matter of biding time, or if I’ll truly ever even have a chance at winning. At this point, I am but a lone survivor in a barren and desolate land of hunters only intent on killing. The bones of the fallen leave me shivering; the imagination of the horror filled anguish they must of endured, though each one had the strength to ensure to me there was salvation for those who could make it. I’ve watched many fall, and I see it in their eyes that they wish I may not join them.
Defeat has become a very real and ever present possibility and if I were to have a dent of meaning I need to see things for as they truly are. I am scarred; things from the stars that should not be bring visions to me that haunt my dreams and eventually the nightmare becomes a harsh reality.
Reality always seems to flow in and out of things that I know and don’t. I am troubled . . .
. . . though, with the gravity of the situation at hand, I am not surprised when the sun rises to black skies and heavy eyelids. Their lies have a way of ridding someone of reason, and healing from that seems to be an unreasonably difficult task. I have to ask once again, for I mustn’t forget . . .
I don’t know. Between the ties that bind me and my crying within chimes of sounds I may make as I break, only one word can ever truly fit but never really does. It a word that I feel a special connection to, as everything I do has a hint of it’s curiousness and it’s direct clarity, despite it being a very fuzzy descriptor meaningfully. “I feel awful.”
Such a handful it’s been to speak. To say what’s on my mind when I can even properly understand it is a task that is fit to make anyone mad. I hope the next time, that it is okay to stay someplace. I hope that it is okay for me to be scared, because when I look into their eyes, of all the fragmented pieces of me, of that hollowed and unrecognizable one in the mirror, that shadow that I once was that wants to be set free, I want to be able to see their own bravery.
I want them to be able to stand strong and set upon this journey to find a new place to be, a new realm to call home, so that I can finally atone for the hell I have caused, and that I may no longer have to force myself to be.
To carry that weight is a heavy burden. Just let me lay, feel the heat and the frost, and sleep. May their be a day where I am certain that I can rest, and the rest will not fall with me into this dark abyss.
I miss you greatly, and I promise you I will fix this mess.
In the meantime, do your best to stay strong. It may be wrong of me to do, but I won’t be here to save you. I may light the path that guides you home, but afterwards you will truly be alone.
“Would you like to leave?”
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The Return Of The Caged Bird
11.10.22 at 9:24pm, posting around 10:10pm
Tonight, I am feeling a great deal of empathy. Several questions are brewing in my mind and I hope to get the chance to ask Oliver soon. Lately, I’ve been getting the feeling that he is unhappy with his job. He’s made it apparent that the stress he gets from it makes him feel unsettled, unwilling to respond, and can make him disassociate from everyone. I feel bad for him. It’s because he showed me his humanity and I simply cannot bear the thought of having him remain in this small town where he’ll have a simple and domesticated life. He was born to be free, to travel the world and feel light as air. For a little over a year he has subjected himself to the cage. In Oakland, he was studying and living with his friends. He was close to people that he liked and seemed to be exploring the city in ways that brought him joy. I wish he still felt that way. I get the sense that he is not, especially ever since he returned home to work. I wonder why he didn’t just stay there and find a job, so that he wouldn’t have to leave, grow apart from everyone and feel so lonely. He doesn’t need me to be his friend, I know that I am not supposed to fix or heal him. However, there is a part of me that would take away all of his pain and make it my own, just so that I could be sure that he was living the way he was meant to. I would make that sacrifice, because seeing him this way, so miserable and isolated, makes me sad. In a way, it makes me feel like I failed, because I wouldn’t want anyone in my close proximity to feel this way, at least not while I am still here to help.
He has been a caged bird for so long, with wings clipped and feet tied. Although he doesn’t sing very much, I know his heart is weeping, begging to regain freedom. I am so grateful for Maya Angelou’s poem, it has inspired a great deal of curiosity and empathy in me tonight. If I could, I would tell him this:
Tonight I feel a lot of empathy for you. Mostly because I got a glimpse into your mind and was able to clearly see your humanity in ways I did not before. There is this lovely poem by Maya Angelou, it’s called “I know why the caged bird sings”. You remind me of the caged bird, with his wings clipped and feet tied. Singing with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still. I hope you get out of here soon and do whatever you need to do in order to truly be happy. Whether that’s a matter of switching careers or travelling the world, living someplace else for a while. I hope you get the chance to really connect with people in ways you hadn’t before. I hope you develop the skills and confidence to safely engage in a romantic relationship that isn’t volatile or misleading. I hope that one day you’ll update me and say that you finally took that chance and have now found true and long lasting happiness. That is when I will know that I have done my job, in a sense. It brings me shame knowing that anyone I care about is unhappy or struggling. If I could, I would simply take all of his pain and make it my own, just so he could leave asap. However, this is likely a part of his personal growth journey, he needs to learn how to engage with these feelings, he can’t run from them forever. He finally needs to face the music. Although I am sad that it has to happen this way, I understand that there is very little that I can do. I will be as supportive as I can be, but that’s about it.
- Isla
#personal#writing#freedom#poetic#painful#reality#growing up#risk#destiny#fear#feelings#caged bird#empathy#sad#growth#travel#journey#realization#happiness#healing#letting go#love
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@dreamingsoldier said: “ i don’t know how to just live. i constantly feel like i’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” He heaved a heavy sigh. His hands trembled gently as he held them in his lap, staring down at his upturned palms and the network of scratches and tears in the worn leather of his gloves; like a roadmap of all the trials he'd been put through, by choice or otherwise.And in the end... had any of it even mattered? Where was everyone, who he'd fought so fucking hard to save? They were gone. Everyone... That's why he was pulling away. He knew that. It felt like the only way to keep her safe was to just... not be here. His heart was pounding in his throat just at being in her presence. Every instinct he had was urging him to constantly look over his shoulder, to pull her along to someplace darker, smaller, more secure, more hidden - sitting here in the church, in front of the flowers, it used to be so calming for him. But now, he was feeling the harrowing nature of a wide-open space with too many entrances and exits. It was too bright here, too easy to see, too easy to hear the echoing voices bounding through the rafters and the broken-in floorboards-He lifted his gaze to find hers, and he had tears in his eyes. He wanted to let go, more than anything. Give in and be here, with her. But he knew... "It's too dangerous. I.. I can't be here. I can't let someone else get hurt just because I'm around." Maybe he was sitting here begging silently for her to give him a reason to stay. Make some kind of argument he couldn't refuse - say something that'd make it all make sense, justify his selfishness to not spend another night alone.
PROMPTS FOR THE HEAVY HEARTED | ACCEPTING
There’s SADNESS in Aerith’s eyes as she listens to Zack’s words. She wishes there was something she could do to put his heart at ease. She knows losing Angeal was hard for him. She knows how he could miss his mentor. She lost people, too, way too many already. She knows how it is to feel powerless through it all. But Zack is not alone, and she doesn’t plan to leave his side. She wants to be there for him, even if it’s sometimes just to listen to what he has to say, or just to make him smile and change his mood. She just refuses to let Zack feel lonely. He has been so good to her since they met.
“Trust me, I won’t get hurt because of you.” She assures, putting a hand on his arm and offering him a soft, COMFORTING smile. Shinra is already after her because she’s a Cetra. They want to use her, so they can find the Promised Land. Aerith isn’t even sure it exists. But they probably wouldn’t hurt her the way they hurt Ifalna. It would ruin all their chance to find it. “So just... Stay with me as long as you can. You’re not a danger for me. I promise.”
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Reconnect-Finn Shelby x Reader
(GIF credit to @peakystitches)
Masterlist
Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight @haphazardhufflepuff @mzcrazy2
Requested by anonymous: ‘Hello! May i request an either tommy or finn shelby x reader? (Whicheverr one u think suits best) for this prompt i found: character A and B have been in a longterm relationship and nothing can get in between, until one day something does and they drift away. But then they reconnect emotionally and everything feels like the first time again (first kiss, first meal together etc) 🙏🏼💜 i love ur writing thank u’
Characters: Finn Shelby x Reader, Polly Gray x Reader (platonic)
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings: Swearing, arguing, finance issues, drinking, fluff
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Finn, is that you?" I called out from our bedroom as I heard the front door open. I tensed up when I didn't hear a reply, only to let out a sigh when I heard him giggling.
He was drunk again, it happened almost every week now. Tommy would have given him something important to do for the gang, and whether or not Finn succeeded with that task, he would go out and celebrate with his mates. I would sometimes tag along if I wasn't tired from the week of working, but after seeing our finances, I realised we needed to stop acting like teenagers and start saving wisely.
"Hello my gorgeous girl." he slurred out as he entered the room.
"Hello Finn." I replied as I received a sloppy kiss to my forehead.
He flopped down beside me in bed, taking the book out of my hands and throwing it to the floor. Finn wrapped his arms around me, snuggling into my lap. I took off his hat, stroking back his hair. He was cold from the brisk walk home, causing me to shiver.
“You should have come out tonight." he said.
"I got off work late."
"He kept you again?"
"No, I decided to stay."
"Why? You always say you're tired."
"I'm tired because I'm picking up extra shifts and hours so that we can start saving up for a house."
"I've told you, we don't need to worry about that. Business is good."
"Finn, we're not going to be given the money. We have to earn it."
"Tommy will help us."
"He might help but he won't give us a lot. And even if he did hand us a house, we've got to have enough money for the bills, furniture-"
"It will be fine."
"Finn, we've not even had our wedding yet!"
We had been engaged for half a year. We were wanting to be married sooner, but problems arose with the Peaky Blinders it distracted us both from it, especially since our lives were in danger. I desperately wanted to have enough money for the wedding and house, though it looked like it was going to be one or the other at this point.
"What's wrong with the flat?" Finn now sat up.
"Did you seriously ask me that question? There's only so much I can do to this dump to make it look somewhat liveable. It just doesn't feel like home."
"We'll get the money. Don't worry. Look, look," he took my hands in his,"we will get a house. I promise. And believe me, I want to marry you as soon as I can, there needs to be another ring on that finger. And I need to see my name at the end of yours."
I stupidly believed him. Those adoring eyes I once trusted had lied to me. Finn kept his promise for a week at max, soon breaking it. I didn't mind him going out with friends, we both needed to socialise, I just disagreed with the amount of times he was out and the amount of drinks he was buying each night. He would always offer to get the next round, and although he was a Shelby, the discounts didn't make much difference at the end of the night. I decided I had to go with him to ensure that our money wasn't being poured away, struggling to stay awake for those long nights, and making work even harder every day. It was impossible to keep an eye on him like that.
Usually Finn would tell me if he was going out that night so I wouldn't worry. That stopped too. My mind was never at ease. How did I know he wasn't lying in a ditch somewhere after a job gone wrong? Or what if he was trapped somewhere by a rival gang? I could only rest when he returned, which he always luckily did. I pretended to be asleep, trying to not push him away as he slipped his arms around me, cuddling me for the rest of the night.
My patience began to grow thin. I was too scared to speak up about it, worried that we would just end up having an argument. However, I knew we would have to bring it up soon, because our money was only disappearing instead of increasing.
One morning when I was leaving for work, I noticed that the drawer we locked our savings away in was slightly ajar, meaning someone had unlocked it and stupidly left it open. Of course it had to be Finn, no one had broken in during the night. My eyes widened when I saw how much he had taken, enraged that he would think me so foolish. Why would he take the money without asking? What was he using it for?
As I stormed towards the shop, I heard whooping from men in a car further up the street. My face turned into a deep frown when I recognised the car, managing to catch a glimpse of the people in it. They hadn't seen me, and I had to make sure my eyes were deceiving me.
I didn't care about the looks on me as I burst through into the shop, making a beeline for Polly's office. I harshly knocked on the door, entering when she called me.
"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" she asked, a lit cigarette in hand.
"Where's Finn?"
"Off out with his brothers, why?"
"Where are they going?"
"To the races."
I scoffed, placing a hand on my head in defeat.
"Why? What's wrong with that?"
"He told me he would be in the office all day today."
"So? Things change."
"No, he specifically told me that. I never even asked about it. He made a point meaning he didn't want to risk me waltzing in. That means he's hiding something."
"(Y/N), they're only going to bet on horses today. They're mingling."
"They're betting today?!"
She stood, putting a hand on her hip."What am I missing here?"
"Pol, he's using money that we don't have! I need a car, I need to get to him."
"Look, even if my nephew is being the biggest idiot, it's a bad idea to go there."
"Why?"
Her eyes widened."Don't snap at me young lady."
"I'm sorry, I just, I just know he's going to be stupid with what little money we have at the minute."
Polly was silent for a few seconds, and I didn't know if she was just staring me out, trying to make me leave. Perhaps she didn't think it was anything to worry over. But it was to me. She surprised me when she went into one of her drawers, pulling out a set of keys.
"Come on. I'll get one of the girls to call your work, say you're sick."
I tightly clasped my hands together as Polly drove. I was furious, trying to think of what to say to Finn when I got there. He stole our money. He went behind my back, gambling away the money we worked hard to earn. I had never said it, but Finn had it much easier than I did. For one, he worked with family, and although I liked my job, the boss could sometimes be an arsehole; second, he earned a lot more than me, so he was the bigger breadwinner between us, but I worked longer hours. Yes, he was in a gang meaning he had more days where his life was under threat, but he seemed to be having a jolly good time anyway. Really, it wouldn't have mattered who worked longer or harder, or who earned more, it was still our money to spend on our house.
As soon as Polly parked up, I was straight out of the car. She quickly followed grabbing my arm and warning me to not get lost in the crowds. I couldn't make a scene, especially since there could be potential business partners or enemies about. I refrained from rolling my eyes, knowing she was right but also knowing that I would find it extremely hard to not scream at Finn.
Polly guided me to where the men would be, ignoring the shoving and shouting. I wished for her to walk quicker. We swiftly entered the posher boxes, almost stopped by a doorman until his accomplice shut him up. I even heard him whisper 'That's Polly Gray you idiot.', the one time I was glad we had a reputation. She only paused to scan the room for the boys but I spotted them first. Quickly moving past her, I couldn't stop my fists from clenching, seeing Finn joyfully drinking and laughing with his brothers only added fire to my fury.
"Finn!" I snapped, quickly catching his attention.
"(Y/N)?" he exclaimed, struggling to stand and clattering the plates and glasses on the table."W-what are you doing here?"
"Stopping you from spending our money like a fucking idiot! Where is it?"
"Oh, Finn boy is in the doghouse." John chuckled.
"Shut up!" I fiercely pointed at him.
"Where's what?" Finn brought me back.
"Our money!"
"I told you, you do this outside." Polly warned, shoving Finn in that direction, and I knew I had to follow him.
Luckily, we were left alone. Finn continued on, finding someplace we would be alone. Once we were in the clear, the distant roar of the crowds covering our conversation, I saw him sigh quietly, running a hand down his face when he realised what was coming.
"Where's the money Finn?" I asked, calmer but with a mean tone.
"Let me explain first.”
"Explain how you took our money without asking? How you just waltzed out this morning without consulting me?"
"Tommy said that there was a good chance, a very good chance that this horse would win, and I thought it would help us if we put our money on it. Imagine how much we'll have if it wins!"
"If it wins Finn, if! You're gambling our money, why would you do something like that?"
"Because you went on about not having enough money! And here I am trying to help!"
My mouth dropped open in shock."You really don’t see the problem here."
"No, actually, I don't." he crossed his arms over his chest.
"Finn, you stole money from the drawer! You then go behind my back and bet it away. Have you thought about what we'll do if that horse loses?"
"But it won't, Tommy said."
"And what if Tommy is wrong this time? Also, don't pin this on your brother, I know he hasn't even suggested this idea."
"I'm not-urgh!" Finn groaned."Why don't you trust me?"
"I can't trust a gamble Finn. I don't think you realise how many nights I've spent lying awake, worried that we'll never have enough for our own home, and thinking that you don't even care anymore."
"Of course I care. This is why I've bet the money."
"How is this not getting in your head?"
"(Y/N)," he took my hands in his, but I couldn't even look at him,"in a few minutes we will hear them announce the winner, and we will start jumping for joy when we realise how much money we're going to get back, and we're going to be so much closer to getting our home."
"Finn, I desperately want to believe that. But even if we do win, you're in deep trouble." I took my hands away from him, turning around. I couldn't even look at my own fiance.
On queue, we heard a man come over the intercom, it was muffled to me but I knew Finn was listening intensely. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched for his reaction, turning around fully when I saw his expression. We had lost. We lost all that money.
"How could you be so fucking stupid?!" I screamed at him, throwing slaps onto his chest."Why couldn't you just listen to me? I don't understand why you had to lie to me Finn!"
I broke down crying, shoving him away from me. My sobs were loud but I didn't care. Finn could watch, see how much he upset me. My heart sank at the thought of it all gone, Finn had left scarcely any money in the drawer back at the flat.
"I'm sorry (Y/N)." Finn pathetically said.
"You know how you always go on about your family never trusting you enough for the big jobs? That you never get to go out with them and help? This is why. Because you do things like this, you fuck everything up Finn. Fuck!" I wiped away my tears, even though more spilled out."You know I've always stuck beside you, but this is the last straw Finn. I can't be with someone who doesn't want to put effort into their future."
"What are you saying? (Y/N), I can fix this. I promise I'll get the money back, I'll-"
"How? That took us so long to build that up. And you were spending our money almost every night on useless drinking. I can't Finn, I can't live like that anymore."
He ducked his head, and I almost wanted him to say something. When he didn't, I knew what I had to do.
I took a deep breath before speaking."I'm going home. I suggest you stay at Polly's tonight."
"Let me take you home-"
"No!"
"What's going on?" Tommy suddenly appeared, he, his brothers and Polly approaching.
"Your nephew, your brother, just gave away almost all of our money betting on a horse. Not only that, but he took the money without telling me. That was money for a house." I angrily explained.
"Is that true Finn?"
Finn shamefully nodded.
"We can get you your money back (Y/N)."
"It's not about that Tom. He's lied to me. He promised me he wouldn't spend our money every week, yet he did. And then he takes our money without asking me about it first."
"I'll fix it (Y/N), I promise I will." Finn was begging at this point.
"Another promise that you're bound to break. I've had enough today."
"Let's get you home love." Polly said, putting a stop to this argument as she stepped forward, taking me under her arm.
Finn didn't come home that night. I didn't sleep. I was sat at the tiny dining table, staring at the ring on my finger, wondering what to do. It broke my heart to think about leaving him, but it also broke my heart thinking about how reckless he had been. Did I really want to be marrying someone who acted like this? Would he mature? My heart wanted to believe he would, but my mind kept telling me that today confirmed he wouldn't. That was one of the worst nights of my life.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I couldn't stand this job any longer. But it was the only thing keeping me alive. It was crappy work, the pay was just above minimum, enough for me to buy food, pay my rent and have the tiniest amount left over. Saving up money was hard when it was just you. Even after two years, I didn't have enough to consider looking at places of my own, or with less roommates. It was exhausting keeping up with these girls I lived with, there were 6 of us altogether. It was a big change when I moved away from Small Heath.
"You ready (Y/N)?" one of my roommates called out to me as I finished applying my lipstick.
"Just a second!" I replied, checking myself in the mirror.
It was the rare occasion that I was going out with them, the one time we could all go out together at all. I was looking forward to a few drinks, and although that sounded hypocritical, I realised that I had to have a night or two in at least a month to relieve myself of the stress I put upon myself.
We arrived at the small club we always went to, it had the cheapest drinks this side of town. We all shivered in the cold weather, walking as fast as we could to make it to the club. The warmth was very welcome, as well as the loud music that drew us further in. It was the usual routine, a few of us grab a table, the others get the drinks in, then we would all make our way to the dance floor.
Hours passed, and I had to get away from the heat coming from the dancing, stepping back towards our table to get a drink. I saw my roommate stumbling in the direction of the bar, rolling my eyes as I went to help her, perhaps getting a drink whilst I was there. However, once I got closer, I stared at the man she was starting to flirt with.
"Isaiah?" I said as I got closer.
"(Y/N)!" he smiled, bringing me in for a hug.
"You two know each other?" my roommate asked, looking disappointed.
"He's an old friend. Just that, nothing else."
Isaiah let me go."How long has it been? Two years?"
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, two years. What are you doing here?"
"Business. Nothing dangerous though, you girls are still in for a good night. Especially you if you're good." he winked to my roommate.
"Is he...is he here?" my voice suddenly went shaky, and I felt almost completely sober.
Isaiah's playful nature dropped."Uh, he is. He's really misses you (Y/N). Hasn't even looked at another girl since you left. He's just not been the same."
I wasn't sure how to reply.
"I can't not tell him I saw you. Imagine if he found out, he would be so upset with me."
"I know. I wouldn't want to hurt your friendship."
"Maybe you should see him. It might do you both some good."
"Or the opposite."
"He still loves you. Even if you don't feel the same, it could bring closure. But I know you (Y/N), I can tell what you're thinking."
"You were always annoying like that."
"He's out front, in the corridor. That's all I'm going to say."
I looked at him for a few seconds, trying to make my mind up."Well, this one is a handful, just so you know."
"I think I can handle her." Isaiah smirked.
"I was warning her about you."
I giggled at his reaction, walking away and leaving him in his natural habitat of flirting. But as soon as I turned around, my stomach dropped, nerves filling up my entire body. He was here. I hadn't seen him for two years, though I thought about him everyday. Would he look different? Did I look different? What was he going to say? What was I going to say? My brain didn't want to think of any words, maybe I was about to babble absolute nonsense to him.
Upon seeing him, my throat tightened, the cool air slapping me in the face; oh, now I was sober. He hadn't noticed yet, leaning up against a wall, hands in his pockets. Wow, he had changed. His boyish charm was still there, yet he had matured into a handsome young man. It was like I was seeing him for the first time all over again. I was just happy that he would be seeing me in my finer clothes rather than catching me after work.
Urging my feet to move, I almost sighed at how small my steps were. I really was scared. Isaiah had said reassuring things, yet I couldn't even walk up to him. It was too late to back out now, especially when he finally looked up at me. I froze on the spot, not knowing what to do. Finn seemed the same way.
"(Y/N)." he said, I only just heard it.
"Hello."
Hello? Really, that's all I could come up with?
He pushed himself off the wall, coming to stand in front of me, though not too close."I...I can't believe you're here."
"I could say the same about you."
"This is where you've been living then."
I nodded."It's not too bad. I mean, I'm on a night out."
"Who are you with?"
I knew he was wondering if I was with a man."My roommates, I live with five other girls."
"Oh, that's a lot."
"Yeah, it's the only place I could afford."
"I hope it's nice."
"I shouldn't complain. A lot better than other places."
We both knew we were making an awful attempt at small talk. I was sure he had so much to say like I did, we just didn't want to dump it on each other in case the other ran away. It was like we were teenagers again, awkwardly trying to think of something to fill the dreaded silence.
"I really want to talk about us (Y/N)." Finn said.
"You do?"
"I...I just have so much to say to you. I can't do it now, but what about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow? Tomorrow, um, yes, yes tomorrow works for me. It's the weekend, so I'm not working."
He smiled slightly."OK, good. I'll come get you. Um, I need your address."
"Oh, here." I dug around in my purse, thankful there was a folded up tissue and a pen, it was good to be prepared. I wrote down my address, handing it to him.
"I'll pick you up at one. I would want it to be earlier, you just never know what time you'll be back with this sort of thing."
"I understand Finn, I did live this with you once."
I barely slept, even when we stumbled in at three in the morning. Luckily I hadn't seen Finn, Isaiah or any other Peaky Blinder that evening, no doubt settling business behind the scenes. Despite the lack of sleep, I was wide awake the next morning, up before everyone else who were nursing their hangovers, trying on multiple outfits in a desperate attempt to look nice, but not as if I put too much effort in. The clock was rolling onto one o'clock, and my heart was beating much faster than usual. I was about to make my way downstairs when something glistened on my small vanity. Should I take it? Yes, I would.
Finn knocked on the door, and I waited a few seconds before opening it. We smiled as we greeted each other, not going in for a hug or kiss on the cheek, something I was worried about. That was the first hurdle jumped over.
"How was your evening?" Finn struck up a conversation as we walked further into town.
"Much better than yours I presume?" I smirked.
He chuckled."Yeah, didn't exactly get to enjoy the music. Small fight, nothing we couldn't handle."
It was strange hearing about Blinder business again."Well I'm glad you're all safe."
"I thought we could go out for lunch, saw a nice place round here."
"Oh, that would be lovely."
"We don't have to, if you don't feel comfortable."
"No, no, no, it's not that. It's just a lovely thing for you to do."
We both bashfully smiled, luckily the restaurant was just around the corner. I had expected nothing less when we walked into the fancy place, not because I thought I deserved it, but because Finn wouldn't be seen anywhere else. His clothes were even more tailored now than they had been the last I saw him, indicating that the gang had been doing well, more money was coming in. We both immediately picked up our menus as we sat, hoping someone would speak first. Our eyes glanced over the top of them, it was as if we were on our first date again, only this time in a better establishment.
"You look beautiful." he said, still hiding part of his face.
"Thank you." I blushed.
"I'll never forget what you wore when I picked you up for our first date. That blue dress you just bought, with a matching purse, and those heels that you hadn't practiced walking in. Well, you used that as an excuse to latch into my arm all night."
I smiled, placing down my menu."It was a good plan, wasn't it? And I did struggle in those heels, I just didn't want to embarrass myself."
He copied me."I liked holding your hand all night."
"What a sweet sentiment."
"I mean it. And I mean this date. That didn't sound right, but...what I'm trying to say is that I want to make it all up to you."
"You do?"
"Yes! I really didn't expect you to leave. I mean I did, but I didn't want to believe that. I didn't want to believe that I had been so selfish that I couldn't even see how much I had hurt you."
“That was the hardest decision I ever made. Most days I battle with myself whether I made the right choice. All night I kept making deals with myself. If you came back, I would hear you out, and if it was good enough for me I would stay. But then you didn’t, so I said to myself ‘Give him another hour.’. An hour went by, and I said the same thing to myself. That went on for the whole evening until I found myself angrily packing my things. Even then, I sat by door on top of my suitcase for another hour or so.”
“I thought you just got up and left. I didn’t realise how long you waited for me.” he sighed into his hands.“I’m such a fucking idiot.”
I could tell he was full of regret. Although it sounded sadistic, I was glad that he was upset when reflecting on our past relationship, it meant he realised his mistake. On the other hand, I hated seeing him sad. I took his hands away from his face, hesitantly reaching into my handbag to pull out the engagement ring I kept.
His eyes widened.“You still have that? I looked everywhere for it when you left, guessed you took it to sell.”
“I won’t lie, that was my intention at first. But it meant too much to me. It was like selling a piece of my soul. I kept it hidden, I didn’t want to risk any of the girls seeing it, they would just ask too many questions.”
I kept my eye on the beautiful ring as I spoke, slowly twirling it around to catch it twinkling in the light.
"I had such a hard time picking that out. I knew what you wanted, but I had to get it right for you. I'm so glad you kept it."
"I did try to sell it. I was stood outside of a shop for ten minutes debating with myself. It would have helped a lot for the deposit on the room, but I couldn't do it."
We were silent, both staring at the ring. We used to do that a lot actually. Finn would take my hand and hold it up as we laid in bed together, both giggling as we watched it glisten like it was in present times, before squealing at the thought of us being married to each other. I constantly fiddled with it when he was off on business, a habit which never wore off, even now; whenever I was nervous or worried, I would automatically do the same action, just without the ring.
A waiter awkwardly interrupted us, and I hurriedly put the ring back in my bag, sharing an embarrassed smile with Finn as we ordered. Once he was gone, I quietly sighed, looking out of the window. We were in such a nice part of town, so many ladies in beautiful dresses and men in smart suits strolling around.
"Are you...are you OK for money?" Finn boldly asked.
I was a little shocked by that.
"I don't mean anything by it. I just want to make sure you're OK, I would hate for you to be struggling, if you were."
"Uh, no, no I'm fine actually. It's not as generous as my old wage but it keeps me alive, I can live with the bare necessities."
I could see him itching to say something else, to keep the conversation going. I wasn't sure if we could go back to the serious topic we had before. However, I also wanted to bring it back up, it felt like we needed to talk about us.
"How's the family?" That's all I could come up with.
"They're fine. Everyone is the same. Well, they're not, they're a bit more serious nowadays."
"They weren't in the first place?"
He smiled."I suppose they were. Tension is the right word, tensions have been rising. Tommy's taking on a lot more, Polly knows all these secrets that no one else does, Ada is rebelling against anything Tommy says, Linda is still annoying, Esme and John have been popping kids out left, right and centre. Arthur is still crazy."
"Sounds like business as usual to me."
"They miss you too."
"Do they?"
"Yeah. Almost as much as me."
I cast my eyes down as butterflies rose in my stomach.
"I heard nothing else for the next few weeks after you left. They all told me what an idiot I was, that I was an extremely reckless, stupid and immature boy, and that I had let the best thing in my life get away from me. And they were right. I knew all of that already."
"I...I don't really know what to say right now."
"You don't have to say anything, let's just enjoy this meal, no more of that talk."
The nerves making my stomach flip built at that. What if we had nothing else to talk about? What if it was too weird to dive into our separate lives? I didn't want to sit across my ex-fiance, painfully and politely smiling through forced conversation.
The spark was still there.
When the waiter had returned with our drinks, we were already deep in talk about what had been happening in our personal everyday life. We were non stop, even as we ate through dinner. The waiters had trouble catching our attention each time they checked on us. I was deep in those eyes again, the ones I always dreamed of seeing. We were laughing hysterically, not at all acting how we should have in that establishment (there were a few eye rolls from other patrons). As if time had gone by in a second, the bill was slipped towards Finn, though I still reached into my purse.
"Are you mad? No, put your money away, I'm not taking it." Finn stated as he carelessly threw down some notes, surprisingly taking my hand in his and guiding me out of the restaurant.
I was tense as we walked, and I saw a flash of realisation in Finn's eyes as we made it outside. Both looking down at our interlocked fingers, Finn broke away, clearing his throat.
"Sorry, force of habit."
Hesitating, I smiled up at him, lacing our hands together again."These are new heels I'm breaking in. Need help walking in them."
He chuckled, pulling me closer as we walked down the street. We were silent, feeling like kids in love again. I couldn't deny that my feelings were still strong for Finn, I missed him dearly. At first, part of me had been wary of all this, wondering if he really had good intentions, or just thought he could get a quick shag in from an ex before he left; but the effort he went through, the things we spoke about, trying to heal old wounds, Finn had matured and he was wanting to fix this. I wanted to fix this, my heart was aching for my old life with him.
“We’re not done yet, are we?” I timidly asked.
“Not unless you want it to be.”
I instantly shook my head.“No, I’d like to stay out for longer.”
“Even though you’re struggling in your heels?”
I smirked.“I know a nice place we can sit down.”
I took him to the local park, it had a huge lake with benches dotted around, luckily it wasn’t busy, there was somehow a hint of privacy here. We sat down close to each other, hands still entwined.
“You still hungry?” I asked.
“Hm?”
I dug into my purse, producing a bag of sweets I had bought the previous day. I laughed as his eyes lit up, taking one without even asking. I took one too, reminiscing on how we used to do the same thing as kids. It seemed he was thinking about it too.
“Just like the old days.” Finn said.
“We spent way too much money on sweets back then. It’s a wonder we still have our teeth.”
“Wish I got out of that spending habit. We could be married and in our new house by now.”
“So you never wanted to move on? You didn’t give in to those girls wanting to be with a Peaky Blinder?”
“Never. I couldn’t. I couldn’t even fathom being with anyone else, it was always you (Y/N). Did you date?”
“No, I felt exactly the same. Which is why I was angry at myself for a long time. I was supposed to be upset with you, not still in love.”
His head whipped round to face me.“You still love me?”
My mouth was still open, unsure how to answer. It seemed I didn’t have to as Finn leaned in, placing on hand on my cheek as we kissed. Instinctively I kissed back, placing my hands on him where I could, hearing the bag of sweets fall to the ground and spill its contents. This kiss was needy, the type of kiss you gave your partner when you had missed them, when they had been away for a long time; and although we had our hands on each other, our touch was still gentle.
“Get the ring.” Finn breathed out, our lips still almost touching.
I carelessly got it for him, heart beating extremely fast. He took it from me, pecking me on the lips one last time before standing up. He straightened out his suit, took a deep breath and got down on one knee. I was just as emotional the first time he did it.
“(Y/N), I know I messed up everything in the past, I was careless when I should have been supportive and helped to build our future. I learnt from those mistakes, and I really, really want to go back to how we were. I need you (Y/N), I love you so much. There aren’t enough words to express how much love I have for you. Will you marry me?”
I didn’t need to think about my answer. I blurted out a yes, waiting for him to slide the ring back on my finger before throwing myself onto him. We stumbled back onto the ground, our arms around each other as we laughed and cried. I believed him this time, I truly believed him. He put in the effort to show me his changes, he wanted to fix everything. I wanted things back to the way they were with my man, and we were back to building our future and living the rest of our lives together.
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Unblemished (AU)
Book: Open Heart (AU)
Pairing: Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey MacTavish)
Rating: Teen
Category: Angst
Summary: Sometimes walking away is the right choice, the only choice, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
Warnings: Breakup, end of a relationship
Words: Approx. 1300
A/N: I apologize in advance. THIS IS AN AU… my babies are completely and happily in love forever and ever in my HC. This is just nonsense in my head.
A/N 2: I am also participating in this month’s @choicesfebruary2022challenge, Day 24 Break up.
A/N 3: Also participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge “To be or not to be” – this is a Not to be. 💔 (Did I mention I'm sorry?)
CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS
If you wish to be added or removed from tags, please let me know. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. 😊
He watched her as she made her way down the winding path. Standing in the very spot where they had shared picnic lunches to break up the workday and summer nights on blankets gazing at the stars. It was the scene of a fierce snowball fight that ended with them rolling in the snow, peppering each other with kisses just months before. It was the birthplace of a cornucopia of beautiful memories, someplace they had made their own. Suddenly, he regretted asking her to meet him here, and he hoped this one last memory would not mar all that came before.
Casey approached him sheepishly, never meeting his eyes. Her hands were buried deep in her pockets; she looked so cold. As much as she loved Boston, its winters never brought her much joy. Tobias couldn't help but smile sadly; it was just one more way she'd be happier now. She greeted him with the beautiful smile he knew so well, but this time, it didn’t make it to her eyes.
She promised herself she wouldn't do it, even though she knew resistance would be futile. She fell into his arms, the one place that had brought her comfort for so long, and buried her face in his chest. She breathed in the sandalwood scent that had become so familiar. It felt like home, and leaving home was never easy, even when it had to be.
He lifted her chin, and he gently kissed her forehead. He wanted more, so much more. He wanted to taste her lips and feel her warmth, to kiss her as he had a thousand times before, but now it would feel wrong, even cruel, for him to do so.
“Well, happy Valentine’s Day eve,” she nervously chuckled.
“I think I liked last year’s better,” he said sadly, his mind wandering back to that night. Cooking wasn't one of her many talents, and she had made a mess of his kitchen, intent on making a special meal for them to share. He watched her from a distance as her frustration mounted. She looked adorable, pouting when she realized it wouldn’t materialize. He held her and kissed her until she finally felt better, then they shared pizza and wine by candlelight on his living room floor.
“You’re really going to go,” he whispered, softly caressing her cheek.
“Tobias,” she whimpered, looking away, “we’ve discussed this a dozen times before.”
“I know,” he choked. “I think I’m saying it out loud to convince myself it's a reality. You’ll like the weather,” he smiled, “you’re better suited for the weather in Durham.”
“Yeah,” she shrugged, “but I don’t think it will ever feel like home.”
“Home is where your heart is, sweetheart. You’ll find a way.”
The bright moonlight only made the tears beginning to fill her eyes more apparent; she bit her lip in an attempt to stop them. She promised herself she would not do this.
“As I said, it will never be home.”
She nuzzled her face into his scarf, the perfect place to hide the tears she couldn't stop from falling as she silently begged them to stop.
“Are you going to miss me?” Her voice creaked.
Pulling back, Tobias looked at her with astonishment. “How could you even ask that, Casey? You know the answer.”
“Sometimes... I wonder... I just wonder, why…” she trailed, her broken voice betraying her just as her tears did moments before.
“We want different things, baby. I wish we didn’t, but we do, and I care about you too much to deny you all that you deserve… which is a whole lot better than me.”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice taking on a colder tone, “but I think I should have had more of a say in what I deserve.”
“You did,” he said, taking a step toward her. “We didn’t make this decision lightly, and you weren’t forced. You’re doing the right thing. It’s just… letting go is hard. Trust me... I know.”
She leaned up against the trunk of an old oak tree. Emotion was wreaking havoc on her body, leaving her weak. She needed its support to stand. She knew this would be painful, but she had underestimated just how much.
“As much as I want to spend every second I have left with you, I think it's best if we make this short. Putting it off when it’s just waiting there.. this big empty void… it hurts too much, you know?”
“I do,” he whispered, with his eyes drifting toward the ground. “I don’t know if this will make it better or worse, but if I could ever want it… the house, the kids, the white picket fence… if it could have been with anyone, it would have been with you.”
She lifted a tissue to her eyes with her gloved hand, a lump forming in her throat.
“Yeah, I think that made it worse."
“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “Maybe that just solidifies it. It’s for the best.”
She nodded quickly, regaining her composure. These would be their last moments together, and she wanted them to end as they had begun. Two friends who slowly became more, who made each other laugh more than they ever cried, who cared about each other… loved each other… in a way neither had before. So much that they dared to dream about forever, then forevel fell apart.
“Well, I should go,” she breathed. "I'm heading out first thing in the morning, and..."
He lifted his hand to her face and brushed her hair back over an ear. He studied her face, committing every line, every curve to memory because it might have to last for all time. His lips pressed tightly together, and he waited until he could speak without breaking.
“I guess this is goodbye,” he whispered so softly that she wasn’t sure it was said. Then she gently chuckled, a barely-there smile on her lips.
“What is it?” He asked, still stroking her cheek.
She pointed to the small tattoo on his wrist. He decided to get it when they were on vacation, after a little too much to drink.
Casey
Written in a script so elaborate it was almost difficult to discern. She got a matching one bearing his name on her hip. Her mother was furious about it when she heard.
“It’s bad luck!" She insisted. "You two have a good thing, and you just jinxed yourselves.” They laughed at her at the time… what could tear them apart... and now, here they were.
“I bet you regret that now,” she said sadly.
He lifted his hand to the streetlight to get a better view. “This?” He asked, shaking his head. “Oh, no. How could I ever regret this.”
“Well, if you do settle down one day, I’m sure the next woman in your life won’t appreciate it.”
He smiled genuinely. “If that should happen, and I don't think it will, but if it should, I know a guy who could turn this into a nice cat or something,” he chuckled. Then, with a look of longing and pure sincerity on his face, he turned to her. “But I would always know what lies underneath, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“I know,” she wept. “I feel the same way about mine. I never want to forget that this happened.”
“I couldn’t if I tried.”
They leaned into each other. Within a moment, their lips were entwined in a manner that befitted their goodbye. Filled with the passion, love, sorrow, and regret that had written their story. Each aware that they only had moments before it came to an end. Neither knew that something so painful could also be filled with such love and tenderness. A beauty all of its own. A moment that was theirs to cherish forever.
Time moved in slow motion as she slowly pulled away, but it couldn’t be delayed any longer.
“Goodbye, Tobias," she choked. "I’ll always love you.”
“I’ll always love you, too.”
A gentle snow began to fall as their hands parted one final time. Their eyes locked on each other until she finally turned around, and they both walked in different directions. The metaphor wasn’t lost on either of them. Life brought them together, but different dreams tore them apart. In the end, it would be for the best, they told themselves, but at that moment, it felt like anything but.
Tobias was happy to find that their spot brought only happy memories as time passed. Sometimes, she’d visit, and they’d go there together and laugh about old times. In time, her tattoo was turned into a beautiful red rose, one devoid of thorns. But Tobias’s remained unabashedly “Casey” for the rest of his days. He covered it out of respect when her new love, who became a good friend, was around. But he never regretted it being there. It was a reminder, a memory of the only time he ever truly loved, and that could never bring him pain.
(I'm sorry. 💔)
Part 2: Unforgettable
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Out With the Old. Yan Childe x Reader [COMM]
Warnings: Brief mentions of injury and blood, typical yandere undertones.
Word count: 3.2k.
Notes: i absolutely loved writing this!! i never realized how badly i needed a yandere childe that’s so obviously whipped for his darling. :’))
i.
“Dearest [First],
I can only imagine the look that must be on your face as you read this. Don’t be too harsh on me for saying so, but I promise not a day goes by where I haven’t thought of you. Now stop scowling at the letter, it won’t do any good, after all; it’s just a piece of paper. I’d hate to come back home to see that you’ve aged from all that frowning at parchment.
Somedays I wake and fail to notice I’m in Inazuma instead of Snezhnaya. The scenery has its differences, of course, but it’s only when I realize I can’t see you that it truly sinks in. Writing this, I realize your judgment about my honesty only appearing in written form rather than in person is true. You’ve always had a penchant for keeping me in line, haven’t you?
Not that I can blame you.
You’ll be relieved to hear that the reason for my being here turned out to be a simple misunderstanding. There’s no grand coup d'état waiting to unfold amongst the lower ranks, so, unfortunately for me, it turned out to be a waste of time. On the bright side, that means I’ll get to come back home all the faster.
Tonia tells me that you’re doing well and I’m glad to hear it. I know your parents aren’t that fond of me, which is a smart call all things considered, but I hope they’re both in good health. Let me know if they need any help with their shop and I’ll see what I can do. Just don’t let them know it was from me, or they might blow a gasket.
When I come home, I wonder if I’ll see your face among the crowd on the pier this time.
At the very least… consider not discarding this letter like the others. Really, I can’t tell who is more stubborn, me or you.
-Yours eternally, Tartaglia”
This is the first letter of his that you’ve bothered reading in some time, as he made a point of mentioning. It’s difficult to identify the exact feelings his handwriting and characteristic word choice inflicts upon you, ranging from relief to exasperation. He has some audacity, refusing to see you in person for months on end, only to carry on as if nothing happened between you.
With the letter in hand, your mind wanders back, hoping to find some hints of where it all went wrong.
You remember the words said to you on that late, fateful winter evening. The confident timbre of his voice then still resonates in your head at random, never muffling despite the years that have passed, ringing as clearly as a bell. Does he ever think about it? It’s hard to say.
“One day,” Ajax, or Tartaglia as he claimed his new identity to be, had told you, “I’m going to conquer this world.”
His breath materialized in front of him as white, vaporous wisps. There’s something about that particularly frigid season that felt like magic, more so than the Cryo Vision wrapped snug around your neck. You bit back a scathing remark and instead focused your energy elsewhere. Your gloved hand raised and hovered just above his split lip, a prominent frown etched onto your face at the fresh wound. Likely the first of many to come, you lamented.
Your Vision pulsated with life and light blue shone through at your command. The tender, bruised flesh on his lip began to close, before it faded away altogether. Tartaglia raised his hand to gently touch where it had been, now nothing but a faint memory.
With that out of the way, you placed your hands onto your hips and gave him a stern look. “I wish you’d stop saying things like that. It’s going to get you into trouble one day.”
He laughed and waved off your concern.
“If only. Things have been so dull lately, I wouldn’t mind stirring up a little trouble.” Tartaglia hummed, much to your displeasure. It was no secret in your quaint hometown of Morepesok that this boy had been spiraling down a dangerous path. Your parents said as much and even encouraged you to break off ties with him. This just won’t do, you thought.
“Ouch!”
You flicked his forehead and offered up your most intimidating glare. “So you are capable of feeling pain, huh? Good. If it keeps you out of fights, then I won’t heal you anymore.”
Tartaglia rubbed the spot and smiled sheepishly.
“You say that, but I’m sure you’d change your mind if I came to you all bloodied and battered. You’re just that kind of person.” When he paused to reflect, you raised an eyebrow and challenged him.
“Now what’s this? I’m what kind of person, Ajax?” You pinched his cheek, much to his vocal displeasure, mischief gleaming in your eyes. “Say it loud and clear this time.”
“The kind that always looks out for others, even those who don’t deserve it.”
Your arms fell limp by your side. At that moment, your heart twisted in a way it never had before. It could only compare to how it felt when Ajax had stumbled back home after missing for three, long days. You weren’t sure if you had heard him right — his eyes widened as did yours like he felt equally surprised — and he rushed to save himself. The flush that dusted over his face was most certainly not from the cold weather.
Tartaglia shot up and made way for the door at a record speed. “I told my old man that I’d be home before dark. He already worries about me enough as is, so... I’ll be on my way. See ya around.”
Your rebuttal was slow as your tongue felt frozen. Tartaglia waved to you over his shoulder and took off, leaving you to wallow in your muddled thoughts. What exactly had he meant by that? Why did his gaze soften and his usually boisterous voice drop in volume?
Questions flooded your mind, questions that wouldn’t be answered for years to come.
ii.
You’ve always found this area of Morepesok to be serene. There’s no buzz of the community gathering, chattering about the latest gossip and notable news, no vendors vying for people passing by to purchase their fresh early morning catch. The surroundings are nothing but peaceful, and most importantly, silent. In the summer, there’d only have been the sound of the rushing rivers that are now frozen over and humming insects.
Twigs and dry leaves crunch behind the tree stump you’re hanging out at, signaling an approaching figure.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Tartaglia sits down next to you, blades of grass rustling against him as he did so. You don’t bother to look up, instead feigning interest in your fingernails, staring at them intently. Anywhere other than his face, which most likely than not would be boasting his trademark grin. Seeing the fake expression that he plasters on daily would only add fuel to the fire that rages inside.
Your lips part after an uncomfortable silence settles in, the atmosphere growing tenser by the second. “So you’re a Harbinger now, huh?”
“You don’t look impressed like everyone else,” He notes, his language notably more tentative than usual. It strikes through your heart, piercing flesh and blood, your fingers curling painfully tight. If he notices, he decides not to comment. Tartaglia gives you the time to process your overwhelming thoughts as if it’d make any of this easier on you.
“How could I possibly be happy about that?” You snap your head, catching how he’s momentarily caught off guard before it’s covered up just as fast. “This… this is going to be the death of you, Ajax. And Archons, the worst part is, I know me saying that won’t matter in the slightest. That death would just be the result of a fulfilling fight to you.”
Your breathing grows erratic, to the point you’re forced to stop speaking to regain yourself. He doesn’t dare utter a single word — uncharacteristically silent — watching your every movement with calculating precision. It’s taking all your strength to keep yourself together, not wanting to come undone in front of him, feeling weak just for showing this much. This is why you were hoping to avoid him, but figures he’d go out of to seek you out.
“And if I don’t die? Would that make a difference in how you feel?” He challenges, tilting his head, voice dipping in volume. “You can be honest with me, [First]. It’s not just that you’re upset about. No, there’s something else.”
He knows you too well and it’s beyond frustrating. Your body language might be difficult for others to read, but not Tartaglia, who picks up on every little nuance with ease.
Your lower lip trembles. “I hate that this is what you’ve become.”
“So that’s it then,” Tartaglia nods his head, once, coming to terms with it as soon as the words left your lips; like he already knew it all along. “I figured as much, but to hear you say it… haven’t you heard of mincing your words before?”
Hugging your knees to your chest, you internally plead with yourself not to let the nonchalant words get to you. It’s his way of dealing with strife to act unbothered, you know this, and still, it strikes deep. What if this isn’t a façade, but who he really is now? That boy you knew and grew up with — Ajax, your dearest friend — he may be physically sitting next to you, but his soul is gone. Whatever happened in those hellish three days changed him forever. Now his flesh and bones are nothing but a vessel urged on by bloodlust.
How ironic, you think. That your Vision lets you heal physical wounds, but not the unseen kind, which runs deeper than any gash could hope to. Maybe you were a fool for thinking you could fix him, revert him to how he used to be like nothing ever happened. Or maybe he let you try just to earn more time together for whatever twisted reason. Knowing that once reality settles in, you’ll go someplace far out of his reach, where he can never get you back. Sitting here, you realize that it won’t just be you losing him. He’ll also be losing you.
Is that why he is sticking around? To prolong the inevitable?
“When I look into your eyes,” you clear your tightening throat, not willing to let yourself cry. “There’s… there’s no light, no humanity, and you know it. That has to be why you chase all those stupid fights, all so that you can feel alive again.”
Tartaglia allows you the room to ramble without interruption, your venomous feelings that have long festered gushing out. When you work up the courage to look up, you find Tartaglia frowning, staring far off but at nothing in particular. So even he can sometimes be rendered to a loss for words, huh?
He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, the chilly air invading his lungs. “You’re wrong about one thing.”
Another cautious pause. He’s giving this a lot of thought.
“My fighting is not for the sole sake of the adrenaline rush, as enjoyable as that is,” he scratches the back of his neck and forces a laugh. “It’s so that I can get stronger. I told you, didn’t I? That I intend on conquering the world. To do that, I need to be the strongest, or else I can’t fulfill my promise.”
Your lips part, eyebrows furrowing together in irritation, but he places a finger to your lips before you can tear into him. The leather feels cool against your skin, and it’s just now that you realize how close he is to you. Having been so absorbed in your emotions, you failed to notice his stealthy movements, the two of you now shoulder to shoulder. Your heart thrums, reminiscent of that day ages ago.
“When the entire world lays defeated at my feet, what I want is to have you by my side. Until that dream of mine comes true, I’m afraid I’ll have to continue making you sad, but know that it’s for a reason.”
Tartaglia pulls his hand back, his finger lingering just a second over your bottom lip, finally allowing you to speak your piece.
You’re drawn like a moth to a flame to his lifeless eyes, which have seen more bloodshed in the past few months than you could ever fathom. Murmuring, you find it within yourself to respond, albeit so quietly he has to cant forward to hear. “If you accomplish just that… who’s to say I’d want to be by your side? The side of a killer?”
“Hm? Did I ever say you had a choice in the matter?” Tartaglia returns your inquiry with a bold one of his own, one that sends you recoiling in astonishment. He lets the words settle like fresh snow on the ground before laughing them off. You cross your arms over your chest, making your displeasure over his comment evident.
“Please, I’m kidding! Don’t look at me like that,” he puts his hands up in mock defense. “Ah, it’s suddenly feeling colder than usual. You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you? I never thought that humble [First], the child of the town’s apothecary at that, would be so bold as to freeze me to death.”
Your nose wrinkles up and you hold back a laugh, swatting at his shoulder. “Yeah, right. Like I could ever stand a chance against you in battle.”
“You might be surprised! I could make a warrior out of you yet. Think about it, Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa saw fit to bestow a Vision upon you, didn’t she?” He accents his words by pointing to your neck, where you prefer to keep your Vision. Subconsciously, your hand raises, delicately touching the icy gem.
“I’m not like you,” you shake your head at his jest. “Hurting others is the last thing I’d ever want to do, trust me.”
He hums, your words taking him back, memories flashing in his mind. “I know, that’s why I’ve always done it in your stead.”
“Whoever would’ve thought fending off bored kids with a wooden sword would escalate into you climbing the ranks of the Fatui.” Had it not been for the final part of the sentence, you would’ve found it endearing to reminiscence back to your early childhood together. Still, the frost around your heart melts at the sweet memory, despite your attempts to keep it hardened. This goes to show how much I cherished it, you muse.
Lips curling into a smile, you take him by surprise and lay your head onto his shoulder. His muscles go tense, body unresponsive to the affection you used to bestow upon him in heaps. It’d been so long that he forgot the warmth you radiate like you were the sun incarnate. He had once commented that he expected a Cryo user to be cold, only to be delightfully surprised by how warm you were.
“Maybe I was always terrible, and you just didn’t notice?” He proposes, to which you snort.
“That most certainly is not the case. I’m a better judge of character than that.” You scoff at the mere idea. No, little Ajax had been nothing but a darling, there’s no doubting it. Wherever you’d go, he’d follow as if his life depended on it. There was hardly ever a time where the two of you wouldn’t be seen paired together.
“You’ll get no argument out of me there,” Tartaglia rests his head on top of yours like he used to. The circumstances have undoubtedly changed, but it’s nice to feign ignorance for a few minutes. “Say, you remember when we used to sneak off and meet here, right?”
“How could I forget?”
Tartaglia nods his head in agreement. “I was always dragging you into trouble, even then. I’m not one to dwell on the past, but I guess it’s hard not to when we’re here.”
Now that he mentions it, it wasn’t an immediate shift into his now unhinged personality; like all things, it began as a gradual descent. You should’ve noticed something was awry with how frequently he’d come to you, boasting injuries of all sorts. Each was accompanied by a rehearsed explanation as not to alarm you. Unfortunately for him, in a small town such as this, word travels quickly. It was inevitable that you’d find out the bitter truth behind his wounds.
Maybe you always knew but didn’t want to face reality.
“There was this one time in particular that always stuck out to me,” he closes his eyes, reflecting. “When I said I intended to marry you when we got older, or whenever you’d have me.”
You’re amazed at how Tartaglia recounts it without so much as stuttering, the humiliating memory sending your head spinning. There were so many memories he could’ve mentioned and that’s the one he decides to go with? You’re certain he’s messing with you at this point.
“I-I thought we swore never to mention that again!” You exclaim, blood rushing to your cheeks.
He blinks when you abruptly lift your head and shrugs off your concern. “I don’t remember ever agreeing to that. It was you who kept insisting to take a vow of silence on it, for whatever reason. Personally, I find it cute, you were so eager to accept my proposal then.”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. This irksome teasing quality had reared its head alongside his other new shortcomings. The best way to deal with it, you’ve learned, is to keep the conversation going. Dwelling on it for too long never ends well.
“So, Liyue, huh?” You recall the gossip from the marketplace earlier. Some locals were fussing over the news that the Fatui’s latest Harbinger, Tartaglia, would be sent abroad for more work. There were murmurs of excitement over how a child from this seaside town managed to make it so far up the ranks. And to think they used to bemoan Ajax’s violent streak, you remember. Now that it’s beneficial to them, they sure have changed their tune.
“I wonder what it’ll be like,” he muses. “Anthon seems to think the people there eat rocks, for whatever reason.”
“Kids always say the craziest things unprompted.”
He seems agreeable to that statement. Neither of you utters another word for some time, instead thinking of both the past and the future. It’s not a comfortable position to remain seated in, yet neither you nor he complains about it. For a few brief, glorious seconds, everything almost seems normal again.
“Hey, [First].”
You hum in response. Tartaglia’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, his eyebrows knitting together in contemplation. In the silence that follows, you swear you hear a sound akin to electricity crackling, the hairs on the back of your neck standing from the drastic shift in atmosphere.
“I meant what I said. Someday, you will be by my side. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll make it happen; even if you come to hate me.”
“Because once you make a promise… you keep it.”
And he intended to do just that.
#childe#yandere childe x reader#childe x reader#tartaglia#yandere tartaglia x reader#tartaglia x reader#genshin impact#yandere genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagine#yandere#yandere x reader#my stuff#commissions
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Hi I saw your post can I request a scenario with dabi and female reader having an argument vut with fluff ending, thank you so much 💗
a/n: this took so long bc i couldn’t sit and write for more than like 10 minutes a day. but this fic is l e n g t h y bc this is the kinda of angst I like hehe. also, it’s hard writing for dabi! his character is so complicated!
tw: arguing
genre: fluff and angst
pairing: dabi x reader
summary: you and dabi get into a heated argument and trying to fix the relationship is harder than it seems.
word count: 3.5k
03.09.2021
-
It was probably a bad idea that you ran out of the house at night, but you felt as if you had no other choice. You and Dabi had just gotten into a heated argument—the most heated argument the two of you had ever had actually.
It might have been over something stupid, but it had been running through your mind for the past few weeks, so it couldn’t have been that stupid. Not to you at least.
Your eyes were stained red from all of the crying you had done prior, but every time you thought back to the words the two of you threw at each other, you couldn’t help the blurriness of the tears that filled your eyes.
“If you’re so miserable with me, why don’t you just leave!” Dabi shot at you as anger filled your entire body.
“I can’t!” you shouted back before sadness washed over you, tears quickly rising to your eyes as you stared over at your boyfriend. “I have nowhere else to go anymore because I left everything behind for you!”
“I never asked you to! Maybe you should’ve thought about that when you decided to mess around with someone like me.”
“You didn’t have to ask! I did it because I love you! But you wouldn’t understand because you don’t care about me!” You shouted angrily at Dabi, who was fuming at you with clenched fists,
“You’re right, I don’t care. Get out of my fucking place.”
Staring down at your hands, you let out a sigh. You were starting to miss Dabi. Even after everything that had just happened, your heart was still full of love for him. There was no way he meant it, right?
It wasn’t that you were miserable with Dabi, you loved him with all your heart. You had just wanted him to put more effort into the relationship, into you. He was always away doing whatever work he had to do and you missed him—Dabi was all you had left.
Reaching into the pockets of your light jacket, you frowned upon only finding a few napkins and empty wrappers from whatever treat you had snacked on. In a rush to leave the apartment, you had forgotten to take your phone and wallet, leaving you with nothing.
Sniffling, you glanced around at the empty streets, trying to find a warm place to stay at. It wasn’t terribly cold, but cold enough where you would love to be someplace warm. Going home wasn’t an option, seeing how Dabi had just kicked you out, but going back to your parents was an even worse option. They had given you an earful about Dabi and you were practically disowned when you left with him.
It was just like any other day. The two of you were on his roughed-up couch that so happened to fit the two of you perfectly. Dabi sat behind you as you sat in between his slender legs in a comfortable silence.
He had this place for himself when he didn’t feel like staying overnight at the league and it used to feel so big when it was him alone. But recently, you’ve been occupying this space with him which made everything feel so much warmer.
And he told you. “You should move in with me,” he said, earning a small smile from you.
But you knew it couldn’t be that simple.
“My parents don’t want me around you anymore,” you told him softly in his arms. “They said you’re not a person I should be spending my time with.”
“Well, you’re old enough to be making your own decisions,” he huffed and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I am,” you told him, finding his hands and gently running your fingers along them.
“But if I decided to move in with you, they’ll disown me. Cut me off from the family,” a heavy sigh escapes your lips, slumping back on your boyfriend’s chest.
“Yeah, but we can be our own family,” he said before a small wave of silence fell upon the two of you. Turning around to face him, you couldn’t help the sad smile on your face, “Could we really though? I mean, you’re busy and if I’m no longer with my family, I’d be alone.”
“Trust me, doll,” he starts with a smirk, pushing hair away from your face, “we will make it work.”
You stared up into his blue eyes hesitantly. Dabi was no family guy. He wasn’t even the type of guy to settle with someone, yet here he was asking you to move in with him to be his family.
But you loved him too much.
Placing a gentle hand on his chest, you lean forward to press a kiss onto his lips before slightly pulling away, “Promise me you’ll take care of me?”
Dabi let out a small chuckle, grinning before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Promise.”
You were really alone now.
-
Panting heavily, Dabi stared at the door you had just slammed shut as you fled from the apartment the two of you shared. Good riddance, he thought, storming over toward the bedroom to cool himself down—his flames were about to burst out any minute now with how angry and irritated he was.
He had already told you that he couldn’t be that perfect boyfriend who could do all these amazing things for you. You knew this and you had told him it was alright because you love him. So what was that back then?
Roughly running his hands through his hair, he sat back against the bed before letting out a heavy sigh and rubbing his eyes out of frustration. Maybe telling you to get out of the apartment was a bit much, but Dabi knew you’d eventually find your way back. You always did.
Grabbing his phone from beside him, Dabi decided to shoot you a text telling you to come back because it would be a hassle to take care of you if you got sick—his way of telling you he cared.
It was late in the night already and Dabi was tired from everything. He wished that you could’ve been there for him to hold when he drifted off into a dreamless slumber, but you weren’t because of him.
Walking over to the front door, Dabi made sure the door was unlocked if you had decided to sneak your way back in. Which he secretly hoped you would.
Upon opening the fridge, Dabi’s heart clenched once he saw all of the food you had cooked and stored away for him with little notes written on them.
‘I know you hate fish, so this doesn’t contain any fish!’
‘This dish has a lot of meat so eat up to get all your protein in because you’ve been working so hard <3′
‘This one is my favorite, so try it out and see if you like it just as much as me :^)’
Did you have to be so stupidly cute?
Dabi was weak against you, and he knew it too. Heating up the dish you deemed your favorite, he walked over towards the small dinner table that would fit the two of you perfectly.
Staring down at the dish, Dabi let out a chuckle—of course this dish was your favorite. And it tasted like home too, something he seemed to enjoy more of when you were here too.
He really did miss you too.
It had been a week since you moved in with Dabi. He enjoyed coming home to you sharing the space with him and making it more homely and warm. Dabi was quite ecstatic that you agreed to live with him, but there was only one problem.
You didn’t seem so...happy.
Dabi would often catch you staring off into space or constantly staring out the window as you let your thoughts run wild. And when he would finally build up the courage to ask, you’d respond with a smile.
“No, I am happy to be here with you,” you’d remind him softly, “I just kinda miss my family.”
And though Dabi knew that, he couldn’t help but want to be selfish and keep you here to himself. You were his family now and you chose to be his a part of this family when you agreed to live with him.
“But we’re our own family now and we’ll take care of each other,” you told him with a smile despite your sadness.
You seemed to always find the right words to soothe Dabi’s thoughts. You were great at helping him—even when he couldn’t seem to help you at all.
Twitching awake, Dabi glanced around confused. When did he fall asleep? His discarded dish was still on the table right where he left it. He must’ve fallen asleep when his thoughts consumed him.
Glancing over at his phone, Dabi frowned when two hours had passed and there was no response from you. You didn’t even bother looking at his text. Were you seriously that upset? Letting out a sigh, Dabi decided to call you instead, hoping to get you home safe.
It wasn’t until he heard your familiar ringtone playing from the living room that Dabi had realized that you left your phone. Which meant you were out somewhere alone and defenseless in this sketchy neighborhood. It had already been two hours. Who knows what could have happened to you.
He always felt as if you were so small and so fragile that it would be so easy to break you.
“Fuck,” Dabi mumbled as he ran into the bedroom to grab his hoodie and a mask before taking off searching for you. Even with most of his skin covered, he could still feel the chill of the late night.
Where could you be at a time like this?
As he ran through the quiet neighborhood, he was glad to see that no one was out and about doing whatever shady business they had going on. But to Dabi’s surprise, there you were, just a few feet away from the apartment.
You sat crouched into a tiny ball as you hid your face in your knees, looking extra small and extra fragile.
Dabi let out a relieved sigh before gently walking towards you, his feet tapping against the concrete gently before stopping in front of you.
“(Name),” he called as gently as he could, “It’s cold out. Let’s go back,” but you didn’t budge. “Stop being stubborn and let’s go back,” Dabi’s voice was laced with irritation before you finally moved, which should have been a great sign. But seeing how you shifted away from him, bothered him more than he liked to admit.
“I don’t want to go back,” you say weakly, curling in on yourself. Dabi scoffed, “Then are you going to stay out here in the cold? I know you have nowhere else to go.”
Your head raised slowly to glance up at him, a heartbroken look on your face before you stood up to face him. “That’s exactly why I don’t want to come back. You promised me you’d take care of me, but look where we are now.”
Turning away from him, you let out a sigh, “I think this relationship is too much for you right now, Dabi. You’re not ready to have another person in your life.”
And your words seem to hurt Dabi more than he had expected. It was just an argument. Things like this always happen in relationships, right? So how come things were turning for the worse?
“You’re dramatic, (Name),” Dabi chuckled. “Just come back and it will be better in the morning.”
He didn’t know how to fix this anymore.
“We can’t act like that argument didn’t happen, Dabi. That was the worst argument we’ve had, and it really hurt me,” you continued, lips quivering as you blinked rapidly, trying to hold back your tears.
“Just come back to the apartment,” Dabi tried once more, but with a surprising calm. “It’s not safe out here and it’s warmer.”
You hated how he could crumble your resolve with a few simple words—you were head over heels for this man. Stuffing your hands in your pockets, you dig your shoes into the ground, “Only for tonight. If things don’t work out, then I’ll find a new place to stay at.”
And though your words carried a heavyweight, Dabi was just glad you agreed to come back. Maybe if he snuggled up into you when the two of you went to bed, you’d forgive him.
But when he saw you setting up your bed on the couch, he realized that this was a bigger problem than he had discovered.
“What are you doing?” Watching you fluff out your pillow, you quietly got into your makeshift bed, bringing the covers towards your cheeks, “I’m going to bed,” you replied, shutting your eyes as you turned into the couch.
“But why are you on the couch?”
“Because I don’t want to be around you right now,” you mumble into the blankets, hiding your face from your boyfriend as he stood there irritated.
“You’re being such a baby right now,” Dabi responds angrily, but you only replied with a hum, further irking the male as he trudged towards the bedroom and thankfully, shutting off the lights for you on his way.
It hurt to see that Dabi wasn’t as upset as you were about this problem the two of you were having. You wanted to fix this because you love and care for him, but you couldn’t say the same about him. Snuggling deeper into your blanket, you hoped that this night “apart” would help the two of you sleep on the problem and be able to face each other the next day.
-
Your constant stirring had woken you up from your sleep, though you weren’t able to get much sleep anyways. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was the fight that you and Dabi had gotten into.
Anything you dreamt of seemed to be a replay of what had led to now. You couldn’t escape.
Sighing, you let your arm hang off the couch only to have the back of your hand bump into something. Gently, your hand brushes against the foreign object before your eyes widen when your fingers brush across something soft.
Dabi?
Gently turning, your eyes land on Dabi, who asleep on the floor beside you with a small blanket covering his taller frame. Your fingers that landed themselves in his hair gently ran across down to his face, brushing along his scars as he slept peacefully beneath your hand.
Watching Dabi sleep was something you could never get tired of. He always looked so at peace, so relaxed and so carefree and you couldn’t help but wish for him to always have a restful sleep. You just wanted him to be happy.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the hand coming up to brush across your own before they gently held your smaller one in yours.
Words weren’t exchanged as the two of you laid there in silence as Dabi gently caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. A small but very comforting affection for the two of you—something you didn’t know you were craving.
“Did I wake you?” your words finally cut the silence as you laid there, basking in the feel of his hand in yours. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“It didn’t feel right sleeping in the bed alone,” A strange confession coming from the man who seemed to strive alone, but it was sweet hearing it from him, feeling how his hand gently caressed yours.
Gently prying your hand from his, you noticed how he tensed slightly before you brought your fingers back to his face gently, running across his scars once more.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
His words cut the thick silence that filled the space between the two of you. Your hand stopped right above his eyes before your brows arched sadly as you listened to him. “We’re our own family now. We’re all we’ve got.”
A sigh escaped your lips as you laid flat against the cushions of the couch, staring up at the dark ceiling above you, “I love you, Dabi, but this isn’t what a family is supposed to feel like. You promised you’d take care of me, but...I just feel like I’ve been doing it all on my own.”
Your eyes stung with tears that began to surface as your emotions came crashing back down on you.
You love Dabi, you really do, but you deserved to be treated better.
“I’m not miserable with you Dabi, I love being with you. It’s just hard when you’re all that I have left and you’re not here too,” you reminded gently, trying not to upset him. But even now, he remained silent.
“If we want things to work, I need you to talk to me,” you were met with silence and you had thought Dabi had fallen asleep but when you turned to glance at him and saw his blue eyes staring off into the distance, you knew it couldn’t work.
Turning back into the couch, you pulled your blankets up towards your cheek once more, letting your tears run freely, “I’ll be gone by the morning. Thanks for everything.”
Dabi laid there listening to your quiet sobs as you cried yourself to sleep on the couch beside him. And to be short, Dabi was freaking the fuck out.
He wanted to say something, anything, but his voice was stuck in his throat. Everything he wanted to tell you was caught and shoved back instead of flowing from his lips.
Sitting up after hearing your breathing even out, Dabi hovered over your, watching how your tears glistened with the faint moonlight and the way your breath would hitch every so often.
He really did love you, even when he couldn’t express himself to you.
Letting the back of his fingers glide across your skin gently, Dabi allowed himself to relax as he watched your peaceful state. You really did deserve so much better than a villain like him.
But he wanted to be selfish.
“You deserve so much more than this,” Dabi’s fingers run across your delicate features as he watched the way your chest rises and falls, “but I can’t give you anything.
“I can’t do anything for you like you do for me. All I do is get upset at you because you just want me to show you a little bit of love when you give me unconditional love.”
“I won’t get mad at you for leaving. I wish I could’ve given you a better family, but I don’t even know what a real family is.” Quietly standing, Dabi leans down to kiss your temple gently before giving you one last glance.
“You were the best thing to have happened to me.” his footsteps fade into the distance as he walked back into the empty bedroom.
Your eyes open once Dabi left, leaving you in the living room as your heart clenched with every word and emotion he managed to squeeze out from his conflicted heart.
You just couldn’t leave him.
-
The birds were chirping freely outside beyond the walls of his small apartment, which meant you had already left.
With an arm over his eyes, Dabi tried not to think about it—about you, but how could he not when he was so in love with you?
“ugh, fuck,” he grumbled as he tried sitting up in his bed, only to feel something restricting him. Peeling his arm from his eyes, Dabi glanced down only to be surprised to see you clinging onto his waist as you hid your face in the side of his chest. “(Name)?”
A sleepy whine left your lips as you moved your head around before adjusting yourself beside him, breath evening out once more as you continued to doze off.
He wasn’t sure when or how you got into the bed with him, but he thought maybe this was God’s last gift to him—allowing him to have you in his arms once more before his world would continue to drag him along the ends of the Earth.
And once Dabi intertwined his limbs with yours, he fell asleep just as fast as he woke up.
It wasn’t until he felt something weaving in his hair that he woke up for the second time that morning. His tired eyes slowly opened before he turned his head towards the body beside him, eyes catching onto yours before a fragile why fell from his lips.
“I know it’s hard for you to tell me how you feel and I’m sorry for pressuring you into doing it. But I heard everything you said last night. Thank you.” You place a gentle hand on his chest before lifting yourself onto his chest, your eyes focused on his vulnerable expression.
“It’s hard for the both of us, but if you’re willing to give a little bit more into this small family of ours, we’ll be just fine.”
Dabi couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips as he brought his hands to the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his, enjoying the way your breaths mingled, “anything for you, doll.”
#dabi#dabi x reader#todoroki touya x reader#todoroki touya#touya x reader#touya todoroki x reader#dabi x you#bnha#bnha x reader#mha x reader#dabi scenarios#dabi scenerio#dabi imagine#dabi imagines#boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia x reader#my hero academia#my hero academia x reader
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