#I’d forgotten how concretely bad it was
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one day I’ll stop vagueposting abt The Guy but that day is not today
#combination of him being weird again today and finding the notes I wrote when it was happening#i went and sat with our mutual friend before a meeting earlier which was fine#and then when I leave I see him on the other side of this divider thing just out the corner of my eye#so he was definitely avoiding me! I now have confirmation bc he’d been with other friend during the class before#and if it was anyone else I know for sure he would’ve said hi to her#banking on plausible deniability bc I walked pretty quick and didn’t turn around it’s not unreasonable to assume I didn’t see him#but I KNOW those two talked abt it afterwards#if she brings it up tonight in front of everyone I’m going to kill her <3#anyway I found the notes I’d written out for myself back then bc I was having trouble sorting through my thoughts more than usual#and they helped me organise what I was thinking and come to some kinda resolution on my own bc he was giving me nothing <3#and it’s. I said this to topsy the other day but it approaches caricature#I’d forgotten how concretely bad it was#like he turned me into his science experiment bc he was scared of liking someone#(specifically a guy but that’s a dimension we’re not getting into that)#I’d forgotten abt how he was testing me constantly in like. not an overt way#but he clearly either thought he was way better at subtlety than he was or he severely underestimated me. probably both#and despite me going a little insane over him I was in fact being mostly sane! I had some level of emotional maturity going on there!#I was just worried abt everything but i at least knew what the fuck I was feeling and had resolved to just be open about it all and I did it#there is genuinely a bit in there abt how I wanted to apologise for how I would sometimes get distracted when he was talking bc he was cute#I wanted to apologise abt being awkward being thrown in unexpectedly to meet everyone he’d ever talked to#where I wrote abt how I’m learning from my mistakes and I know what the problem was now#dude???? you have anxiety???? this is how that works????#these are not the worst examples I just cba to dig back through that note it’s so long#anyway mr guy you are annoying as fuck pls get your shit together#this was all meant to be over if he could like maybe make up his mind on following me vs avoiding me that’d be great <3#luke.txt
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Lost And Found
-> Masterlist || → Taglist
Pairing: Welt x (gn!) Reader
Summary: You meet your old childhood friend and crush again unexpectedly and feelings you thought you had long forgotten begin to resurface.
Tags: Fluff, Jarilo-VI story spoilers, childhood friends to lovers, Reader is implied to have known Welt when they were still young so they're about the same age here
A/N: I am on my knees begging for Welt to come home, and he refuses to come home, so I'm offering this fic as a sacrifice to the gacha gods. This is also my first HSR fic! Jing Yuan will probably be the next one I write something for... he is living rent-free in my head atm :3
You were standing in line at the street kiosk for a coffee-to-go and a granola bar. Like every morning before you headed to work. Or whatever your work was, now that the Stellaron was gone. There already had been a huge amount of layoffs lately and you expected that it wouldn’t be long anymore until they would lay you off as well.
It was cold today, nothing unusual on Jarilo-VI, but you felt like it had gotten warmer, even if it was still very minuscule and barely noticeable.
One glance at today’s newspaper revealed yet another Stellaron headline. Nothing surprising.
Silvermane Guards push back on the Stellaron Corruption further. Supreme Guardian Bronya supports the underground with the delivery of rations and supplies.
You heard some strangers from afar had come here and managed to achieve, within a bit more than a week, what people on this planet failed to do for hundreds of years. Something you failed to help with as well, despite coming here for research on the topic yourself.
“Good morning!” The barista greeted you. “The usual?”
“The usual. Thank you.” You nodded with an honest smile.
Once served and paid, you clutched your hands around the cup to warm your hands on the steaming hot liquid.
The brew here could hardly be called coffee when comparing it to the one on Earth, but for what it was worth it made do. All it needed to achieve was giving you a small energy boost and some warmth after all.
Walking further down the street you spotted a lot of new faces. Ever since you’ve been here the underground had been sealed, now that it was back open it was definitely great to see the streets bustling with life again. It gave you hope that things would finally take a turn for the better on this planet.
Maybe that meant it was time for you to leave soon as well. You had no concrete plans on where to go next yet. But essentially as always, you’d just go wherever the stars would carry you.
Lost in thought you didn’t notice how the person in front of you had stopped walking, causing you to bump into them and spill the entire cup of your tastebud-offending coffee over their coat and yourself.
Just fantastic.
“Shit, I’m so sorry. It was my bad, I should have–”
You frantically took out a handkerchief and tried to dry the clothes of the man in front of you, until he suddenly took hold of your hand, forcing you to halt your ministrations.
At that moment he questioningly called your name.
Startled by the strange yet familiar voice, you flicked your eyes up to the face of the man you had just run into. And without a shadow of a doubt; it was him.
His friendly brown eyes still exuded the same comforting warmth as they did all those years ago. Something you thought you’d never see again in this lifetime. Not after he left Earth.
“Welt?” You carefully inquired despite being sure that the man standing in front of you was him. Your childhood best friend. The boy you had the biggest, most mind-numbing, and toe-curling crush on back in the day.
“So it really is you!” He huffed in disbelief with a wide smile and an excited sparkle in his eyes. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
“Neither did I after you left…”
You paused for a moment to take in his features. He had become old, without a doubt, but he was still as handsome as you remembered. You dare say, it made him look even more handsome than he already was back in the day. Maturity certainly suited him.
“Let's get you a new coffee, shall we?” He points out after both you and he just stared at each other for what felt like an eternity without uttering a word.
"Oh, uh. There is no need. It was my own fault for not paying attention and bumping into you.."
"Please, I insist! Even if it’s just for old times' sake. Although you might have to lead me to a Café since I'm unfamiliar with this city. If you still wish to take me with you in my coffee-stained state, that is…"
He looked at the mess on both his and your clothes before laughing.
But who were you to say no to an old friend? Who, after all this time, still seemed to effortlessly make your heart beat an octave higher.
"I have to warn you though. Don't expect too much from the coffee here. It tastes like hot dishwater at best."
"Well, maybe I like dishwater if I can enjoy it with an old friend?"
After you arrived at one of your favorite Cafés, he led you to one of the tables and pulled out a chair for you, waiting until you sat down. Flustered by the chivalrous gesture you avoided eye contact and waited until he sat down as well before looking at his face again.
Soon after, the conversation with him just kept flowing and it felt as if you hadn't been apart for even a day. Talking to him felt as natural and calming as you remember it. At the same time, it made you painfully aware of how much you had actually missed him.
"Hey, that reminds me, I haven't even asked yet, but what brings you here?"
"Oh, right. My crew and I were responsible for the Stellaron incident." He explained.
Figures. You could've expected that it was him who was responsible for resolving the crisis on this planet the moment you found him again.
“I’m not surprised.” You chuckled. “You mentioned a crew?”
“Yes. We travel together on the Astral Express to planets with Stellaron activity.”
“So you’re essentially the Guardians of the Galaxy?” You joke.
“Something like that.” He laughed as the corner of his eyes crinkled upwards. “Travelling feels great again. When Himeko found me–”
“Himeko?” You inquired a bit too quickly as soon as you felt a pang in your chest when he dropped the name. You tried to stop yourself from doing so but it seemed like finding your old friend again made feelings resurface you thought you had long buried and forgotten. Of course, he too had moved on with his life after so long. It would’ve surprised you if he wouldn’t have found a partner, especially with how handsome he was and still is.
“Is she your wife?” You carefully speculated while trying your hardest not to look hurt by the consideration that she might be.
“Who? Himeko? No… god, no. We’re just colleagues. Friends at most.”
A wave of relief washed over you. Was it stupid to be relieved that he wasn’t in any relationship just for your own selfish reasons? Most likely. It’s not like he’d stay here with you or take you with him all of a sudden. And you shouldn’t expect him to do so either.
Your subconscious feelings were hard to suppress though. No matter how hard you tried.
“What can I get you two lovebirds?” The waitress asked when she arrived at your table with a sweet smile.
“Oh, uh, we’re not–”
“I’ll take just a normal cup of coffee. Black, two pieces of sugar please.” Welt interrupted entirely unphased and not in any rush to correct the waitress about her wrong assumption of your relationship status. He smiled and threw you a glance out of the corner of his eyes as he spoke, seemingly amused by your probably undeniably flustered state.
With a heavily beating heart, you simply ordered the same as him while trying not to sound too out of breath. Not that you were capable of thinking about coffee when your mind was racing at the speed of light.
“I haven’t had the chance to tell you yet, that you look just as stunning as I remember.” He complimented as soon as the two were back alone.
Was he trying to kill you?
“Oh, uhm.” You cleared your throat, feeling how your face had started to burn up. “Thank you. I could say the same about you.”
The wait for your coffee would be excruciatingly slow at this rate. Where were you supposed to look or what were you supposed to say now?
Every ability to converse like a normal human being flew right out the window the moment he complimented you. Lucky for you he seemed to have enough to talk about, so he kept the conversation flowing by telling you about what he had been up to since you last saw each other.
“Anyway, that’s enough about me. What have you been up to all this time?”, he asked as soon as the waitress served your coffee.
“Oh… I actually came here for the Stellaron myself, so I’m basically jobless now thanks to you and your crew.” You chuckled as you took a sip from the coffee. The dark brown bitter liquid enveloped your tastebuds and made you cringe for a brief moment. You would never get used to the dishwater they dare to call coffee here.
“I’ll have to see where I’ll go now. I have no concrete plans or goals. But probably trying to find another planet that might need my help.” You ascertained after a brief pause.
“Why don’t you come with us?”
Taken aback by the unexpected and sudden proposal you started choking on your coffee as soon as he had finished speaking. Despite the butterflies that made themselves known in the pit of your stomach you couldn’t help but stare at him in disbelief. Simultaneously feeling both hope and old feelings started to bloom inside of your chest once more.
“I’m sorry. I know it might be quite a rash proposal. But it seems we share the same ideals and I thought you would be a great addition to the crew.” He paused and took a sip from his cup, awaiting your answer.
“I–I… Okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll come with you.” You reply which elicited a smile and, what you assumed was, a quiet sigh of relief from him.
“I’m glad. There is so much I still wish to tell you.”
Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.
#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr x reader#welt x reader#hsr fluff#hsr fanfic#honkai star rail fanfic#honkai star rail x reader#hsr drabbles#hsr imagines#🍁 dust writes#🍁彡 hsr
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Red Heart Ending 1
Michael Langdon x fem reader
You, Michael and Ms. Mead left the room, leaving Ms. Venable forgotten on the floor. Reaching the landing at the bottom of the first flight of stairs, your eyes fell upon the group of witches gathered below. Michael released your hand as he took a few steps forward.
“How can any of you defeat me,” he announced, successfully drawing the attention of the witches. “When I’ve already won?”
He stood proudly at the top of the staircase, arms resting at his sides as he casually stared his enemies down. Ms. Mead was on his left and you remained behind him.
“You haven’t won,” Cordelia stated, her own gaze unwavering as she looked at Michael.
“Perhaps you haven’t noticed the state of the world,” he gestured around him.
“It’s almost as bad as your dinner jacket,” Myrtle criticized in a snarky tone. “But at least the world can be saved.”
“By you?” He smirked.
“By all of us,” Cordelia said,
“Hey,” Dinah interjected. “Get the wax out of your ears. I’m here to watch.”
“But I’m not,” Coco stepped forward. Michael’s eyes shifted towards her with an unamused expression, she cowered a bit from just the look. “Just don’t let me die again, okay? It really sucked the first time.”
With clear contempt, he redirected his attention to the group. “When I’m done,” Michael started. “You’ll all wish you were still dead,” he warned.
“I always thought the world would end with fire and ice,” Myrtle mused. “Not witches and warlocks.”
Michael ignored the comment and continued. “The seventh seal has been broken,” he proclaimed. “Wormwood has fallen from the sky and turned the rivers to blood and fire. The bottomless pit has been opened and my swarms of locusts and scorpions have ravaged humanity.” He was bursting with satisfaction. “The world has been remade in my father’s image.”
“Darling,” Myrtled laughed. “It seems daddy didn’t tell you the most important rule of bringing on the apocalypse. If you want to finish the job, the thing you have to do first is get rid of all the witches.”
“I could annihilate all of you in a second and the world would go on without missing a beat,” he threatened. “You and all of your work will be forgotten in the rubble of the past. But I want to give you a future.”
Michael slowly lifted his arms as an invitation, “Fall to your knees and accept me as your lord and savior, and I will bring you to the table as my obedient subjects.”
Cordelia chuckled, amused by his offer. “The only way we would sit at your table is if your decapitated head were the centerpiece.”
“Cordelia,” Dinah began, in a soft voice. “You raised me from the dead so that you would have the power of voodoo on your side,” she walked forward and faced the Supreme. “But if you know anything about who I am, you know the only choice I’d pick would be the winner.” She made her point clear by bowing her head towards Michael.
“You’re half right, Dinah,” Cordelia said.
“She needed the help of a powerful voodoo queen,” the voice of Marie Laveau chuckled as she emerged from behind the group of witches. “But that ain’t you, sis.”
“To release me from hell,” Marie continued, stepping in front of the group towards Dinah. “Cordelia promised Papa Legba a soul he couldn’t resist.”
There was a pause, everyone expected for Marie to attack Dinah, but suddenly, she transmuted and appeared right behind you.
“Nothing personal,” she muttered to you as you spun around. “But Papa prefers the innocent ones.”
Before you had a chance to act, she heartlessly ran her machete through you and pushed your body over the bannister.
Michael’s heart dropped to his stomach as he realized what just happened. His mind almost couldn’t even process it.
Before even giving Ms. Mead a command, she removed her hand revealing the barrel of the assault rifle. However, as she was about to fire upon Marie, Cordelia uttered a spell.
Just like that Ms. Mead exploded, her limbs and torso flying apart. The shock wave sent Michael over the bannister, crashing onto the concrete floor below, landing a few feet away from you.
The moment Michael saw your lifeless body, he immediately felt his heart stop, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hear, his vision blurred as he fell to his knees beside you. His arms scooping you up from the ground, cradled you against him.
He cupped your face and parted your lips, as he gently blew air into your mouth, concentrating all his energy into the act, but it wasn’t working. His body began to tremble, tears running down his face, as tried again and again to revive you.
He gasped, burying his head against you as panic took over, realizing that nothing he was doing was working, that you were gone. Unabashedly, he wailed, screaming and crying so hard that his lungs began to burn.
Michael’s head snapped up as Cordelia approached him. “Bring her back,” he demanded. “I know you can.”
She shook her head. Seeing him like this reminded her that there was a part of him, deep down, that was still human and capable of love.
Panting, Michael looked down at your face, his fingers pushing your strands of hair out of your face. He couldn’t do this without you, he didn’t want to live without you.
“Please,” he pleaded. “Bring her back.”
“I can’t,” She said honestly. Her powers were fading rapidly, just like how her body was wasting away as Mallory grew stronger.
“Then kill me, I want to die with her,” he begged, his eyes still lingering on your face.
“Even if I could kill you, your soul won’t be reunited with hers,” she explained. “Her soul isn’t in hell.”
Michael shook his head in denial. “She was supposed to be with me forever, that’s what I wanted, it’s all I wanted.”
There was a moment of silence as Cordelia watched the son of Satan sob over the body of the girl he loved.
“What if the two of you can be together again?” She asked, kneeling down.
He looked at Cordelia, his blue eyes swimming with emotion, his arms curling tighter around you.
“Mallory can go back,” she revealed. “That’s our plan to fix this mess.”
“To go back and kill me?” He pieced together in a small voice.
She nodded, “Under the right circumstances, you and y/n can be together forever.”
“The house,” he whispered.
“The house,” she repeated, confirming the idea.
He stared hard at Cordelia, wondering if he could trust their plan, trust that they would accomplish what they were suggesting.
“I promise,” Cordelia swore. “Both of your souls will remain in the house, we’ll even buy the property, so the two of you can remain undisturbed.”
There was no reason for her to lie, if Mallory can get back to that moment in time, both the witches and Michael could attain what they desire.
Michael pressed his lips to your forehead, inhaling deeply, as he silently vowed to be with you again. He laid you gently on the floor, placing your hands on your chest.
“What do you need from me?” He turned facing the remaining witches.
“Something of yours,” Myrtle instructed, reaching up, she tugged on his hair and yanked out several strands. He glared at her from the corner of his eye. “So smooth,” she murmured.
“What else?” He pressed, wanting to get it over with.
Mallory took a deep breath and approached him cautiously. “Can you tell when to go back? A day or month?” she asked. “A moment in time to aim for.”
He took a hold of Mallory’s hand, showing her a memory from his past.
“That’s the day,” Michael began. “The day I knew she’d stay with me forever, that she loved me unconditionally.”
He sighed, all his hard work, his purpose, his sacrifices didn’t mean anything anymore. He was literally trading everything he gained for you. He didn’t want to be alone again.
“Here,” He reached into his jacket and handed Mallory the glass vial of pills. “Her death should be painless, it’s the least I can do.”
She accepted the vial, holding it in the same hand that held his lock of hair
“Is that all?” he asked, his tone tired and defeated.
Cordelia nodded, “We can take it from here.”
Michael returned to you and laid on the floor beside you, his head facing yours as he reached out and held your hand.
…
You were quiet, so quiet with a vacant look in your eye as you stared at all the blood on the floor. You didn’t know what to do. Immediately you denied to yourself that Michael had done this, you just couldn’t accept it.
But you couldn’t ignore the blood and bodies, you weren’t ignorant, you just felt blinded by your love for Michael.
The scariest part for you was that the dead women and blood didn’t hurt you or affect you as much as seeing Micheal so upset.
You looked at the fear on his face, tears streaming down his cheeks, and your immediate instinct was to hold him, but that was wrong wasn’t it? You weren’t supposed to love someone who could do that, but you did.
You simply retreated back up to the room you and him shared. Your mind was preoccupied with the morality of your choices and feelings. Michael still needed you. You had to compose yourself, you had to figure out how to help him.
Entering the bedroom, you were surprised to find a girl waiting inside waiting for you. Your eyes narrowed as you tried to determine if she was another spirit or not, it was so hard to tell sometimes. She was wearing a gold headband and black dress.
“Y/n,” she gave you a sad smile. “I need to talk to you about Michael.”
“What about Michael?”
She motioned for you to have a seat on the bed. “I need you to keep an open mind.”
She told you that her name was Mallory and that was a witch who had seen the future. She explained that her coven was working to stop the apocalypse, and that the only way to stop it was for Michael to die.
“It’s up to you,” she placed her hand over yours. “You can do this or I’ll take care of the situation myself, either way Michael will not come out of this alive.”
You gripped the small bottle of white pills she had given you tightly.
“He really does love you,” Mallory added.
Still staring at the pills, you heard her leave. Finally alone, you covered your mouth with your hand and choked back your tears. She made it clear that Michael was going to die either way, but you had the choice of going with him, to stay by his side. You swallowed thickly, you choice was obvious.
“Michael?” Your voice was so soft that he didn’t hear you at first when you returned. He was curled up on the floor, sobbing. “Michael, you should change.”
He peeked up, surprised you came back. You kept your distance, not crossing the threshold as if there was an invisible barrier. “Y/n?”
“You should change out of that,” you said again, looking at the black latex suit he was in.
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Okay,” he nodded, slowly getting to his feet.
Going into the bathroom, he noticed you had set out some clean clothes for him to change into.
Even though you were waiting for him in the room, the fear of you abandoning him hadn’t left. Michael hadn’t expected it when his grandmother left him. Were you just waiting for an opportunity to leave him? Lull him into a false sense of security then abandon him when he least suspects it?
Michael shook his head, you wouldn’t do that.
“She’s not going to leave,” he whispered to himself before he pulled the clean white t-shirt on and the pair of pajama bottoms you had picked out for him.
You were sitting on the edge of the bed when he emerged from the bathroom. You weren’t acting like yourself and it worried him. He noticed you hadn’t moved a muscle since he went in, you had just been staring at your hands the whole time.
“Michael?” You murmured. “What do you think about us being together forever?”
“Forever?” Michael repeated, sitting next to you on the bed. “You mean it?”
“Of course I do,” you said gently, turning to look at him. Your hand cupping his cheek. “I want to be with you forever.”
Michael looked so happy, despite the redness around his eyes, a big grin formed on his face and his eyes lit up. “I want that too.”
He knew you were different. He couldn’t believe that he was so worried about you leaving him.
“We can stay here forever, like Ben and the others,” you explained, trying your best to hold back tears.
“Just me and you?” He asked. “You’ll never leave me?”
“Never,” You produced the bottle and opened the lid, gently shaking out a pill for each of you.
Michael tilted his head, watching you intently.
“These will put us to sleep, and when we wake up again, we’ll never be apart after,” you placed one in his palm.
Michael didn’t question it, he knew what you really meant, but truth be told, this was exactly what he wanted. He just wanted to be with you, to have you love him and never have to worry about losing you.
Simultaneously, you both swallowed your pills.
“I love you, Michael,” you whispered, leaning forward you pressed your lips against his.
Your fingers ran through his blonde curls as you pulled him closer while falling back on the bed without breaking the kiss. His hands found their way to your sides, fingers clinging to your body as he kissed you back. You could feel him smile against you, his lips were so soft and gentle.
Your body suddenly felt heavy and you couldn’t open your eyes. The last thing you heard was Micheal telling you he loved you before he collapsed beside you.
…
Sun was shining through the window of the bedroom, making Michael’s blonde hair appear like strands of gold as you twirled it between your fingers. His face looked serene as he closed his eyes and a small smile formed on his lips. The two of you were resting on the bed, his head on your lap as you played with his curls.
“You stopped reading,” he pouted with his eyes still closed.
“Sorry,” you chuckled. “I got distracted.”
“Distracted?” He asked, peeking an eye open. “By what?”
“By you,” you cooed. “By how gorgeous you are.”
Michael laughed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, “Yesterday you said it was because of how handsome I am.”
“Well,” you chirped. “You’re gorgeous and handsome, that’s why I can’t help it.”
The witches had kept their end of the bargain, Mallory saw to it. They purchased the house to keep anyone else from moving into the infamous ‘murder house’. All the other ghosts kept their distance as well, knowing what Michael was capable of.
It really was just you and Michael forever. Your days and nights were spent together in pure bliss, constantly gazing at each other, holding hands.
Michael tilted his head and leaned forward. You met him the rest of the way, pressing your lips to his.
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Hiya Zig!
What do ya think the poly lost boys would do if their S/O got jumped (deviate they hang around the boys and I’d imagine they’re not popular with everyone) and then the S/O tries to hide it?
Hope you’re doin good!
-♠️
Omg spade anon of course I can write about the vampires that fill my heart. I've never been in like a serious fight. I've gotten into like scraps with my siblings but never punches being thrown and shit like that. The ending is a bit rushed because I wanted to get this out for you but I hope you like this.
Warnings: Mentions of injury and violence against reader, strong language
It's been three days since the boys have seen you. They called every day and you made an excuse about being busy or getting sick and denied their offers of help. While on your way back home some people who aren't too fond of the boys jumped you and left you with nasty bruises and some cuts. The cuts have scabbed over but the bruises left behind are blue and purple all over. You know they'd never let you out of their sight again if they saw you like this.
You know you'll have to see them soon so you picked up some makeup from a drugstore and now you're sitting at your desk, looking over a makeup book on how to cover up bruises. You'd blame the cuts on getting attacked by a stray cat in your neighborhood. You're putting some conceler on a bruise on your neck. When a big gust of wind blows through your open window. The sun has just recently set about ten minutes ago so you thought to get in the last little bit of fresh air before it became dark. You put down the brush you're using to blend out the makeup and walk over to your window.
You go to pull it closed when a hand pulls it back open. You jump back but relax when you see who's hand it is. Marko's here and from what you hear so are the other boys.
"Jesus you scared me. What are you doing here?" You ask, stepping back to let them in.
"We came to check on you. What the hell happened to you? You're more bruises than actual skin." Marko asks. The other boys file in and you return to your desk. You grab the makeup again and start to apply it to on of the bruises on your neck.
"I got in a nasty accident while riding my actual bike ok? I'm fine." You say blending out the makeup. Paul and Marko have both taken seats on your bed. Dwayne and David are still standing, giving each other looks.
"We know that's a lie darling. What the hell actually happened." Dwayne asks. You huff a bit and focus on your refection.
"I'm serious I got in a nasty accident on my actual bike ok? I crashed into someone else and fell pretty hard on the concrete." You double down.
"You would've gotten scrapes instead of long cuts like that," David comments, "Who hurt you?" You focus on blending out the makeup instead of looking at the boys.
"I don't know who jumped me so I can't tell you."
"Well you should have told us as soon as it happened!" Paul almost shouts.
"I never meant to worry you ok? I'm fine now and if I ever see them again I'll let you guys know. Now if I can finish getting ready we can go out to the boardwalk." The boys all mumble their agreements and you go back to covering up your bruises.
Eventually you go out with the boys and head onto the board walk. They seem a bit more on guard than usual of course but you easily Pull Paul away to ease up a bit with you. You're enjoying your time with the boys tonight. You've pretty much forgotten about the soreness of your bruises while you watch Paul distract a carrnie as Marko steals you a stuffed animal. Eventually you went back to the cave with the boys.
You knew they weren't gonna let you go home tonight. They've gotta watch you so that nothing bad happens to you again. But you don't mind. You're too busy being cuddled up with four hot vampires.
#poly lost boys x reader#poly lost boys#lost boys#the lost boys#slasher x y/n#slasher x reader#the lost boys x you#the lost boys x reader
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In the blur of the rain
content: angst, recapture, injury whump, rescue whump, caretaker whumper, blood mention, death wish, mental illness (probably), saving a life. words: 857
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The rain was cold and welcome. Whumpee shivered as it slid down their face and neck, swirling together with coagulated blood and soaking through their thin jacket.
The concrete below was cold and wet. The asphalt under Whumpee’s legs was covered entirely with about a half inch of water, slowly built up over the last several hours. Whumpee felt numb below the waist, but didn’t bother to move. They wouldn’t be able to lie down on the ground tonight, but knew that they would drift off in their sitting position eventually, given how exhausted they always felt.
It was draining, you know, sitting there, bleeding. For days it must’ve been, that they remained, huddled between several large crates that lay forgotten in the narrow alleyway behind the abandoned furniture store.
‘Forgotten in an alleyway’ had seemed quite appealing at the time, when Whumpee had first sunk down between the crates, after hours of limping and clutching their bleeding side.
At least they knew no one would bother them here. At least they wouldn’t get chased down in the night again and hurt even more. And since fading into their little enclave here in the dim little alley, they hadn’t much moved at all.
Instead, they sat, curled up, for what felt like an eternity, their chest sinking further and further back into the old bricks that lined the wall behind them, their face slowly melting and dripping down with the rain, each drop of their skin hitting the asphalt below them with a tiny splash, only to dissipate into the miniature lakes that had bloomed there with them, between the crates.
They could finally shut down and feel nothing again, as they’d wanted to for so long, but as was forbidden by the terror and the paranoia and the pain that every force they encountered had thrust upon them.
But the rain, at least, had been kind. The rain had felt quite nice at first, the cool water washing the dirt and the dried blood off the front of their face and the front of their shirt. Yes, it must’ve been the first nice feeling Whumpee could recall in a long, long time.
The rain was kind, though the wounds were not, and they could feel the sting of infection worsen as the days passed, as more coagulated blood seeped up through their shirt and down their torn cheekbone, as their head got heavier and their vision grew fuzzier.
But if they were lucky, maybe they would die here.
Maybe, they’d be allowed to die here.
It wasn’t a bad place to die, after all. Sure, the narrow alleyway wasn’t very pretty, but Whumpee supposed that in their state, neither were they. And with their eyes finally closed, forehead resting against their curled knees, they thought the rain at least sounded nice, pattering against the wet cement.
Whumpee shivered.
Yes, this really wasn’t a bad place to die.
▪️▪️▪️
Whumpee was stirred from their half-comatose slumber at the sound of approaching footsteps echoing wet along the puddled concrete.
Ah, they must be imagining sounds now. It would hardly be the first time. They didn’t bother to raise their head. They hadn’t the energy to support the weight above their shoulders. Their skull felt full of lead.
The footsteps neared where Whumpee sat, huddled between the crates, and stopped.
“I knew I’d find you.”
That voice. They’d been found, they supposed.
Whumpee slowly raised their head. Their vision was fuzzy, but perhaps even the foggiest of brains were capable of hallucination.
“God, you look like shit.”
Whumpee only stared up with fading vision, slack-lipped, expression blank, their face long since melted down into the puddle below them.
“Jesus Christ. It’s a miracle you’re not dead yet, looking like that.”
Whumpee said nothing.
“You’ve been gone for 9 whole days, you know.”
Whumpee stared and saw less and less. They’d been found, but they couldn’t bring themselves to care.
“How long have you… been sitting here?” Whumper asked, already learning they would not be getting an answer.
“You know, I didn’t think you’d have lasted this long out here on your own, I honestly thought I’d be bringing back a corpse tonight.” Whumper paused, “Lucky for me, it seems you’re only most of the way there.”
Whumper bent down to where Whumpee sat, huddled, soaked and bleeding, shaking from the fever and shivering from the cold.
Whumper brushed a wet lock of hair out of Whumpee’s injured face, “Don’t worry little one, I’ll make you all better, and then you’ll have learned never to try to escape me ever again.”
Whumper reached their arms beneath Whumpee’s shivering body and lifted them into a bridal carry. Whumper’s skin was warm. Whumpee had nearly forgotten what it felt like to feel warm. They reached up and clung to Whumper’s sleeve, savoring, cherishing the way it brought feeling to their numb fingers.
“Come on now little thing, let’s get you home.”
Pressing a kiss to their wet forehead, they turned from that little enclave between the crates, and walked off into the night.
▪️▪️▪️
More like this
#welcome to part 2 of me writing angst to cope with my personal angst here we are.#might be the closest I’ve ever gone to writing some genuine comfort#of course it’s not without its toxicity and weird power dynamic but#but yeah dang look at me#angst#well#it doesn’t end with whumpee dead in an alleyway so imma call that a happy ending.#▪️▪️▪️#recapture whump#failed escape attempt#angst whump#blood mention#caretaker whumper#carewhumper#my writing#my post#whump queen#alleyway whump#whump drabble#whump writing#mentally ill whumpee#death wish#semi-suicidal whumpee#tw death wish#rescue whump#in the blur of the rain#whump scenario#whump angst#big emo hours
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Buck’s Coma Dream in Retrospect
It fell flat and it had conflicting messages.
I think the two big takeaways we were supposed to get and see were
1) Buck realizing that he’s enough just as he is.
2) Buck understanding/realizing that in the real world he has a family that loves him and accepts him as is, that’s real and not a fantasy (ie his parents loving him anyways and Daniel being alive), and that’s the 118.
Okay, let’s focus first on Buck realizing he’s enough. Well, he may have understood this message in his dream, but did we see this in any capacity in the real world? I’d have to say no, not really. For a few episodes Buck was struggling with the fact that he died, he was unsure how to feel about dying but still being alive, he didn’t know how to feel or act, etc. And then this very important story was effectively dropped, especially once the romance with Natalia was brought in (to only be a love interest, lbr).
Where, after the coma dream in episode 6x11, did we see Buck truly feel like he was enough? At most we have some “well I guess he felt confident in ____” moments. I’d say those are:
- Buck going through the five stages of grief in 3 seconds before handing over the baby he helped create.
- Buck taking on “leadership” in the finale. I mean yeah, but he was mostly on his own to do that. He kinda had to lead Ravi, but that was it. I’m stating this with a bit of an unsatisfied air because we really hadn't seen the proper build up this season to Buck even taking on a leadership position. So.
Beyond those two pieces, where exactly have we been shown that Buck has learned and felt that he’s enough? I’m really struggling here. (too bad his story about learning to be at ease with himself was forgotten). What also doesn’t help, and this happened in season 5, is we get so little insight into Buck’s mind and how he’s really feeling. Buck in season 4 admitted to hiding his true feelings, but... it still feels like this is the case even now. As if both Buck and the show are often hiding how he really feels about things. So we have to guess a lot.
This is also where dream!Bobby saying “if you only care how people see you, you haven’t learned a damn thing” comes into play in this. You know where this is going. The only thing we got was Buck saying to Eddie in 6x15 or 6x16 that Natalia, after one conversation that predominantly took place off screen, that “she sees him.” Ah. So Buck has learned nothing, got it. In particular, Buck has learned nothing when it comes to his romantic life. After six seasons. My good dudes (gn).....
(we honestly got Natalia not seeing Buck even before Kameron randomly showed up at Buck’s place; we were shown Natalia being overwhelmed and low-key judgmental of Buck’s full life before and after Kameron came in. and she ran away from it all. sound familiar? y’all also please note she came back after Buck was in danger. for all we know, she saw what went down on the news and decided to come back. sound familiar??? we saw Natalia not understanding why Buck helped Kameron and Connor, she had to be told the answer. the only thing we’ve concretely been shown is Natalia finding Buck’s death, a piece of him, “so cool.”)
*deep sigh* Okay, now for point two.
There’s two aspects to how the fantasy vs reality of it all was clumsily handled. (this was inspired from a chat I had with @lovecolibri )
In the coma world, Buck’s parents genuinely seemed to be loving and supportive towards Buck, something Buck never got in the real world. In the scenes of the real world, we were shown the 118 family and Maddie being that: a family that loves Buck and are hella concerned about him. Of course they are, because we’ve spent several seasons making this a fact, a fact that they all love Buck and they love him as he is, unconditionally.
A big HOWEVER. However, also in the real world, we had the Buckley parents present and seemingly concerned about Buck. Sure, this is in part nothing new about them; the Buckley parents only showing concern when Buck is physically hurt. BUT we also have to factor in that in episode 6x10 we were shown the Buckley parents “trying” to, at the very least, be civil with their kids, honestly, and this is my interpretation here, in great part only so they could have a relationship with Jee-Yun (despite them… I don’t think showing that much interest in Jee-Yun beforehand. not that I remember atm).
The conflicting message here is that in the coma world Buck has parents that love him unconditionally, but he knows this isn’t true in the real world. We saw him, as I interpreted it, Buck giving one last hug to coma!Buckley parents in a sort of goodbye to this fantasy, because again Buck knew that he’d never have the relationship he wants or truly deserves in the real world. But Then, when Buck wakes up he has his parents there and “trying”….. But. But Buck had also had the understanding in his dream that the 118 are his family and he wants to return to them, for himself.
I hope y’all are following because this is a bit confusing isn’t it; my explanation and what the show was even trying to say. What we got was coma!Buck understanding that his parents have never and will never “love him anyway.” He has the 118 that do. But then in the real world we have the 118 there for Buck, but ALSO the Buckley parents who still don’t love him anyway, but are “trying,” so… Good enough?
Idk idk, what would have been more impactful was to have Buck return to a reality where he has his 118 found family who can be contrasted, clearly, to his parents that both a) still don’t love him unconditionally (which is true in any case, but...), and 2) not have the Buckley parents there for reconciliation purposes. The timing of the reconciliation really muddles the messaging, if you follow me.
I’ve seen a lot of people view the show as redeeming the Buckley parents (and Mr. Han), when the show was going for reconciliation.
The only parents that have actually gotten redemption stories are Ramon Diaz and Toni Wilson. Those stories worked because both parents acknowledged their wrong doings, and said and showed that they are willing to try to mend things with their kids. Which both have been actively doing.
Neither the Buckley parents nor Mr. Han has been shown to acknowledge their wrong doings to their kids. Instead we were given a silent message of “let’s start from scratch and… just try to get along.” This is why their stories are meant to be reconciliation and not redemption, but they were clearly poorly executed.
For Buck in the real world we just… saw him going with the flow of his parents being there. Oh his mom wants to buy Buck a couch? Buck: “...Sure, I guess. Go ahead.”
Circling back to the 118 family. While we did get some moments and scenes in 6x11 and 6x12 of the 118 being there for Buck… idk, that was kind of it. The rest of the season after that was kinda scattered on - really showing the bond amongst the 118. At least to me. Like, why weren’t there more scenes of Buck and Bobby, especially after May said out loud that Bobby is Buck’s dad? I’m blanking, but did Buck ever say “congratulations on the engagement” to Chimney or Maddie, his sister? We didn’t get any further discussions amongst the 118 of Buck’s death, not really, beyond 6x12 having some check in with Buck, and 6x13 having everyone joke about Buck’s math skills. (i do love the Buck/Eddie of it all, don’t get me wrong. but in hindsight it’s hilariously bizarre that in retrospect we and Buck are being told that Eddie seemingly regularly plays poker with other firefighters. haha ok.)
Hell, why was there never a conversation between Buck and Chimney? Chimney died twice in season 5 (but that was quickly forgotten), and almost died in both seasons 1 and 2. Chimney would absolutely be a perfect person for Buck to talk to about death.
I’m sure I could give more examples, but overall I felt season 6 was weird in how they handled the dynamics on the 118 as a whole. To me, a little too often they were just kept apart because for a show that is supposedly big on found family, it wasn’t that consistent or as present as it should be in season 6. (yes there were definitely good and great 118 moments in season 6, but there could have and i think should have been more for this found family.)
Like holy shit, the finale? We got a baffling time jump from the rescue, so we didn’t get anything like Buck checking in on Bobby, his dad. We didn’t get Buck checking in on Eddie, his best friend and partner. We didn’t get anyone checking in on Chimney, etc etc etc. Everyone was off in their little pairings, and two of the pairings of course were Buck and Eddie with their female love interests. I phrase it like that because that’s exactly what the writers, at present, have given us and nothing more; female love interests. So satisfying.
...
TL;DR If Buck learned and understood that he’s enough in the real world and not just in his coma dream, call me dumb but it wasn’t clear at all. Season 6 overall, while having some good moments with the 118, was honestly lacking in the found family aspect that used to be so important and central to this show.
#911 discourse#911 critical#9-1-1#Evan Buckley#just trying to get out all of my criticism and frustrations#with s6 out of my system#but this is why I tag stuff accordingly so if it's not your jam#people can just block this stuff#my thoughts#long post
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Finally got my Lark Oak character playlist breakdown done, hope y’all enjoy.
Fair warning it is long and sad, cw for mentions of sexual assault in the song cut corners on short walks
a link to the playlist for those interested ^^
We are the kids: I think I found this one on someone else’s Lark playlist and I think it really fits him. “We are the kids that you never can kill” is what Lark thinks of himself and the other s1 kids. And the bit that’s like “i rip holes in my shirt/there’s mud on my shoes/there’s sun on my skin/i am brand new” really represents his chaotic youthful nature and just really speaks to him as a kid. “We howl at the moon” is him and Sparrow because you know for a fact they howled at the moon together because hashtag love wolf am i right.
Always gold: sad brother song !! this one’s just about like brothers growing apart and being all angsty and sad and i thought it fit. “You would kill for me/and I knew that I'd do the same” is a very Oak twins attitude. Technically the song would be from Sparrow’s perspective with the lines “we were opposites at birth/i was steady as a hammer/no one worried cuz they knew just where i’d be/and they said you were the crooked kind” i think these lines really just demonstrate the difference between the two brothers, but more importantly the difference in how everyone else viewed the two especially after the rogue card was drawn. Everyone views Lark as ‘the crooked one’ ‘the angry one’ ‘the problem twin’ meanwhile Sparrow gets swept in the shadow and no one worries or thinks too much of him, because he’s ‘easier’ to deal with than Lark is. Also all the lyrics about everything leaving and dying and then the other person being like “i’ll always be here for you’ is Very Lark vs Sparrow energy. Lark is pessimistic and angry and Sparrow, for better or for worse, will always welcome him in. no matter what atrocities he commits along the way.
Used to the darkness: the sound of this one just felt very Lark to me. The heavy, dark sound suits him well I think. Also the title, he’s been through so much and has been used to fighting and killing and all sorts of other shit since he was like 13 in the forgotten realms, the dude’s absolutely used to the darkness, if you will.
I was just a kid: “i was just a kid/i needed answers/i pulled the trigger/and nothing happened” Lark was just a kid when he stabbed his father. He was just a sad angry kid, manipulated into making a bad decision. He ‘pulled the trigger’ and let the doodler loose. A mistake he will work tirelessly to fix.
The devil you know: this one just fucking BOPS. pretty much the only reason this one’s on here is because of nark/Nicky. Kind of a cute little ship song for them ig.
Icarus: gotta be honest i just really like this song and it has similar Vibes as Lark in my head, i don’t have much concrete evidence for why this one fits Lark. The lyrics ‘icarus is flying too close to the sun” can be read as like, Lark throwing himself into fights against the doodler/other monsters in a wreckless attempt to make himself feel better for causing the end of the world, kinda.
I wanna be your slave: straight up nark. This song just screams nark to me. It works both ways in my mind, it could be about either of them.
Discord: So replace ‘discord’ with ‘doodler’ and I think it applies pretty well to Lark and his view of the world in season 2 especially.
Broken man: this one doesn’t go much further than Lark Oak is uh…a pretty broken man, if you will.
Liar: I added this one while I was still pretty early in season 2, around episode 5/6 when Lark and Sparrow were under the influence of the doodler question mark ? and now honestly I think it applies to Sparrow more. “I’m not in the right state of mind/I just wish I had the strength to admit it” is pretty straight forwardly about Lark not being in the right state of mind at the dance, when he and Sparrow are under the doodler’s influence. It can also have a double meaning and be about his teenage years, where he’s not in the right state of mind and blinded by rage and hurt and confusion and self hatred from stabbing his dad and blaming himself and wanting to fix his mistakes and all of that spiraling out of control. “My stubbornness will put up a fight/but i don't deserve to win it” is just more of Lark’s self hatred and thinking he deserves everything bad coming to him. “I’m left in the dark pondering my mistakes/in the light i swear i will/deny it all” Lark has so many insecurities and anger and hurt within him, but all of that will stay firmly locked in his head, he’s not going to tell ANYONE anything. He’s not letting anyone in, he’ll deny it all. “I am the host of this hostility” is more just of just Lark feeling bad. “My life’s become this grand game of deception/my mind’s ignored all my heart’s good intentions” is Lark as an adult kind of looking back on his choices, regretting what he had to do with swapping the realms, and (this isn't really canon but) kind of missing Nicky, missing what they used to have and stuff. “We all feel this tension/we all have our own illusions” is the entire Oak-Garcia family, all feeling the tension between Lark and Henry and not knowing how to deal with it. And then in the outro how it repeats the chorus but with the use of ‘our’ feels like it could be about the Oak-Garcia family as a whole.
An honest mistake: first off, this one bops, second, this one’s also pretty much on here for the title, Lark was like, a small teenager when he stabbed his dad, and he was manipulated into doing it by Willy, so like, while it is his fault he started the apocalypse and unleashed the doodler, it’s also kinda not? It’s complicated. Regardless, it’s on here for Lark’s regret and y’know, all of that. “My old friends/i swear i never meant for this” is Lark talking directly to the other s1 kids. That’s pretty much it for this one.
You’re gonna go far kid: this one really speaks too and sounds like a manifestation of Lark’s anger. He’s angry and frustrated and the pure aggression behind the words “now dance fucker dance” really represents that well i think. “I never had a chance/and no one even knew it was really only you” speaks to Lark thinking he only has himself/him not trusting others. Also ‘i never had a chance’ is really specifically about the rogue card and Henry. He never had a chance of a happy relationship with his father because of the rogue card’s prediction, but also he never really stood a chance of turning out ‘normal’ or whatever just sort of based on Henry and Mercedes’s parenting style and also Henry’s own daddy issues really affecting how he parented his own children.
Polarize: no one judge for having twenty one pilots on one of my character playlist’s when the lyrics “i wanted to be a better brother, better son” apply so perfectly. “Wanted to be a better adversary to the evil i have done” is also very Lark, it represents his thoughts about the doodler and how he wishes he could finally, actually defeat it. “My friends and I we've got a lot of problems” speaks to the s1 kids and how they’ve been left with their parents' mess. The chorus of “deny, deny, denial” also feels very Lark to me.
Cut corners on short walks: I know this one sounds very different compared to the other songs on this playlist but the lyrics are too perfect to leave it off. I mean, the very beginning lines “the sour substances that make up my hind brain/have slowly become stagnant and i have surely become insane/and the anger i feel in my veins/has stopped pouring out of the hole in my face” already connect so deeply with Lark when i think about them. The ‘sour substances’ that make up the hind brain is I'm assuming intended to be about mental illness or something similar, but in the case of Lark and the Oaks in general I interpret that as the doodler, sitting idle in the Oak’s brains and bodies, waiting for a chance to surface. “Broken by 14 with no chance for absolution” is Lark going through everything he did and being so traumatized and hurt by the time he’s 14. By the time he’s 14 he’s already stabbed his father and everyone knows and there’s no coming back from that, it is a bloodstain on his history. “We were searching for joy with apophatic conclusions/we started savoring apathy and all of our bruises” Lark was a very happy child. He and his brother did everything together, they had great loving parents, they had everything they wanted and needed. Then they get taken to the realms. And then Lark isn’t so happy anymore. “We used to be so pure, so fragile and raw” is Lark mourning the loss of his and his friends innocence and childhood in the realms. “Well out of the flames we reclaimed our decay/and the world became a stage, complete chaotic, how we played” could be about the s1 kids being left with the ruins and decay of the world their parents left behind. The world becoming a stage is like the doodler being unleashed, everything is loose and chaotic now. The rest of the song, the bit about experiencing sexual assault and then the end being about healing i don’t think really apply to Lark in particular because frankly i don’t think either of those things happen to him.
No children: “i hope that our few remaining friends/give up on trying to save us” I mean. That line is pretty straight forward. Lark doesn’t have much hope for the future, he just wants people to stop caring, stop trying with him. It won’t work. “I hope we come up with a fail safe plot/to piss off the dumb few that forgave us” is Lark talking about Henry. He thinks Henry still loving him and forgiving him is stupid, he doesn’t understand why Henry hates him as much as he hates himself. “And I hope when you think of me years down the line/you can’t find one good thing to say” Lark’s self hatred. “And I’d hope that if I found the strength to walk out/you’d stay the hell out of my way” Lark hopes that if he left Sparrow wouldn’t follow. He knows he’s wrong.
Sometimes: credit to tumblr user @s-ccaam-era-crepe for this one, he has a breakdown of it for all of the dads but I thought it fit Lark especially. (Also it just Sounds very Lark to me so)
Screwing in a lightbulb: credit to tumblr user @s-ccaam-era-crepe for this one (ly scam <33)
Gun.: Everything about this one screams Lark to me. The sound, the lyrics, the fucking TITLE, it’s all perfect. My chemical romance is also just a very Lark band to me, conventional weapons especially (yes im projecting it’s fine). “Well as soon as i get my gun/i’ll point it out the window at the setting sun” can be about the black hole/doodler eye/sun. “As soon as i get my gun/i’ll tell you about it when you fall in love” is Lark talking to Sparrow, he’s always going to be focused on fighting the doodler, that’s always going to be his top priority. Sparrow meanwhile is going to try and build a normal life for himself, so lark will always be telling Sparrow about his fights and stuff while Sparrow is busy doing his own thing with his own life. “Well the uniform isn’t sewn/they make ‘em like we give ‘em out to anyone” can represent how D.A.D.D.I.E.S. isn’t an official organization, it’s just a bunch of dads and sons trying to fix what’s wrong. The uniform isn’t sewn because they don’t have uniforms, they're just guys trying their best. “Well if i’m old enough to die for your mistakes/then let’s go” this is very much teenage Lark to me. 17 y/o Lark feeling so sick and tired of his dad telling him to stay out of fights and keep himself safe, when Lark just wants to go out and get bloody and get in the heat of battle again. He’s already fought, already been through an insane amount of shit, he’s old enough to die for both his own and his father’s mistakes. And maybe a part of himself wants to. “Can I bleed enough to fill up what the engine takes/we don’t know” is along similar lines, Lark will do whatever it takes to make up for what he did, he will fight and bleed until he’s dead if it means the doodler will die. “But if you’re watching up above/they're teaching me to kill/who’s teaching me to love” is incredibly specific and maybe doesn’t fit with canon, but this is like, if Henry died and Lark is still angry with him, then that line is Lark speaking to Henry after he’s gone, like Lark is learning to kill and all this very violent stuff that he knows Henry doesn’t love, and he’s slowly like leaving behind his softer, open side of himself that Henry really did love and did his best to nourish. It’s also like, the phrasing of “who’s teaching me to love?” really hits because we the audience and Lark himself knows that Henry was the one who taught Lark to love, taught all this hippie dippie shit that he just left behind and completely abandons. “I’m never gonna have a son” is like, Lark won’t bring a new life into this broken world until he’s able to fix it. He’s never going to have a son, and it’s also like, he’s the only of the s1 kids who doesn’t have a kid so it speaks to that as well.
Six feet: I found this one on another Lark playlist and thought it went hard so I put it on mine. I think this one just speaks really clearly to Lark’s dedication to fight and fix the world. He’ll work himself to death to make things right. Also it just bops so.
Prologue: credit to tumblr user @s-ccaam-era-crepe for this one. (You can read Scam’s post analyzing all of the songs I took from him here)
I’m not angry anymore: I don't even have a good breakdown for this one it’s just THE Lark song to me. It’s everything. It’s pretty much just the title and the vibes of the song and everything, I can't even explain it that well.
Anti-hero: listen i'm sorry i put the new biggest taylor swift hit on my lark oak playlist but hear me out, it fits. Just read what @terrific-fish wrote when it dropped:
Nark song ^^ that is all <3
Brother: oooooooh my god this one hurts me. Imagine Lark leaving to go off and try to plan and take down the doodler, the mission or whatever is unsuccessful and goes bad, and he arrives at Sparrow’s doorstep out of nowhere, because he knows his brother will always take him in. Sparrow will sit with him and listen and bring him down from whatever self hate and doubt and everything in his head that he's going through. He’d patch up any physical injuries Lark has as well. “Remember when you and I would make things up?/so many nights, just take me down/to the place we can hear them play/i miss that sound/cuz no we don’t sing so loud” is Lark wishing to go back to his and Sparrow’s childhood, before the realms and before the rogue card and before all the hurt and anger. He wants to be carefree and happy again. He misses it.
Brother: well. Going to be honest I didn't really have a good reason for this song to be here aside from the title, but going over the lyrics I have a truly tragic reading and interpretation for it. “Oh brother of mine/it’s been a long long time/since i’ve seen my face in your eyes” is Lark and Sparrow getting older and while they will always look like each other because, y’know, twins, as they grow older they develop more of their own sense of style and expression and change their looks a bit. Sparrow grows his hair long and shaves his face. He looks just like his father. Lark doesn’t have the patience to shave and so his beard is messy and unruly, but in a cool hot way. He looks nothing like his father. “I left you alone in a house not a home” is Lark tearing the Oak-Garcia home apart with his hatred of Henry. Mercedes and Sparrow don’t know what to do, Henry is in shambles, and Lark is just so, so angry. Sparrow becomes the middleman, facilitating Lark’s hatred while never speaking against him, never telling him how much it hurts to have the people he loves unable to speak with each other. “Brother i watched the sky burn/and all i learned was smoke fills the lungs like a disease” i think this is Lark learning that like, hurt and violence don’t only have to be physical? Like, he learns that words can cut just as much as knives. The ‘smoke’ can hurt just as much as the fire, just in a different way. He watches as words and social norms slowly kill his brother, as Sparrow inhales so much smoke it kills him and beats him down. “Oh brother i confess/there is little of me left that could care about dowsing the wildfire” is Lark losing so much of himself in anger that only the smallest part of himself cares about his father anymore. He can’t bring himself to forgive him but he misses him so much and everything hurts.
#lark oak#dndads#dndads s2#dungeons and daddies#henry oak#sparrow oak#mercedes oak garcia#dungeons and daddies s2#lark oak garcia#character analysis
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Enter: Spider #3
For the first time since her, Tara, and Karma were busted out of Octavius’s lab, Scarlet Spider swung through the streets of NYC. This time, dawning a new suit with golden accents. Although the teenage vigilante was still stressed about not having any leads or answers as to where Octavius had gone with the others, for a moment, at the arc of her swing through the air, she felt a second of calm.
-(+)-
The masked vigilante dropped down from the ladder, shooting a web to pull the sewer cover back into place above her. Her nose scrunching up behind her mask as the smell of sewage hit her face as soon as her feet hit the ground.
“Forgot how bad it smelled down here…”
She muttered to herself, her ears picking up incomprehensible voices as she rounded a corner to one of the entrance ways to the turtle’s lair.
“Hey guys how-“
Scarlet Spider cut herself off when her spider sense spiked, causing her to jerk to the side as a familiar metal bo staff hurled in her direction, implanting itself into the concrete wall behind her. Mask lenses wide, she turned to see the chaos from where the projectile originated from.
“YOU CAN'T STACK THE DRAW TWO’S IT'S IN THE RULES!”
“NOBODY FOLLOWS THAT RULE AND YOU KNOW IT! JUST ADMIT DEFEAT AND DRAW FOUR!”
“GUYS STOP THROWING THINGS AT EACH OTHER THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A FUN FAMILY GAME NIGHT!”
“Uno!”
“WHAT?!?!”
Slowly, the masked vigilante backed out of the lair. Not really having the energy to break up that mess right now.
She’ll check in on them later.
-(+)-
The rest of the patrol seemed to go rather smoothly. It helped somewhat to be back out and active again, but the quiet nature on the crime front wasn’t doing her general anxiety around the whole Octavius fiasco any favors. She couldn’t tell if that ongoing, sinking feeling lingering in the back of her mind for weeks now was her anxiety or her spider sense. Maybe it was a bit of both. Her spider sense seemed to act up whenever her anxiety did, making her hyper aware of small, practically insignificant dangers.
The sound of a shout, alongside a concerning crash! snapped the vigilante out of her thoughts. She quickly changed directions and web swung toward the commotion. Her heart sank a bit when she spotted a pair of sneaker wearing feet sticking out of a dumpster, followed by pained groaning. She quickly dropped down into the alleyway in front of the dumpster, leaning over the lid to see what looked to be a young, dark skinned teen in a red hoodie laying in the trash like he had fallen in.
“Oh my god! Kid are you okay?!?”
Scarlet Spider frantically asked, grabbing the kid under the arms and lifting him out of the dumpster, then gently placing him down on the ground. The younger teen winced, eyes scrunched closed and rubbing his forehead a bit before responding.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I uh- WOAH!”
The kid’s eyes grew wide as he looked up at the person who had helped him, his pain forgotten as he sprung up to his feet.
“You’re Scarlet Spider! THE Scarlet Spider! You’re alive and not dead! This is perfect!”
“Uh… yeah uh… I am. Kid what happened, how did you fall into-“
Before she could ask more the kid rolled up one of his sleeves. The masked vigilante immediately recognized what looked to be a web shooter attached to the boy’s wrist. It seemed as though he had made it out of spare parts himself. Like she did her first pair.
“Look! I managed to re-create your web shooter no problem! But it seems I couldn’t replicate the chemical compound of your webbing. Mine was uh… too light apparently.”
Shocked, the masked vigilante just stared down at the younger teen for a while as he rambled before stuttering out a response.
“Wait what? How did- why are you trying to make web shooters? Kid that’s-“
“Because I’m like you! A few weeks ago I was bit by this crazy looking spider! I didn’t think anything of it at first but then I felt really sick so I decided to sleep it off and the next day I woke up with super powers! So I decided I’d have to become a superhero like you so I started making the web shooters and trying to make web fluid and-“
Scarlet Spider brought up a hand to stop him.
“Okay okay hold on…. What’s your name?”
“Oh! My name is Miles! Miles Morales!”
Oh no.
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I learned last night that one of the forums I posted on the most when I was younger was completely deleted, no back up, gone.
I spent hours of my life near every day on those forums for YEARS. Some of my earliest internet friends. I went to meetups, crossed borders, swapped gamerpasses, stayed up late, wrote fanfic, lived a whole life with these people and now it only exists in our memories.
That’s not a bad place for them to live, but not knowing that was the only place they are was just kinda like a punch in the gut.
I watched that movie, We Met In Virtual Reality, about the VRChat game, which I know almost nothing about other than the movie, and it reminded me so much of my time on those forums, in a really good way.
I’ve been dreaming of experiences like these again, but I don’t know if I’ll ever have them. Partially from the lack of places they exist, but honestly it’s mostly because I’ve like, forgotten how to conduct myself online. I find it hard to chat for long hours, even if I really like someone and could easily chat with for that long IRL. I’d love to try VR games like that, but I’d have to do it like, in my room alone (a whole other problem I have, not a lover of being stuck in my bedroom, idk never have been), but that required a ton of upfront cost that, frankly, I don’t see myself having even remotely soon.
Luckily there are some videos still left on YouTube from some of the meet ups I went to (even if I can’t find myself in any of the videos -- grrrr -- ), so at least while Youtube lives, I can remind myself with concrete evidence.
Hammy, Liz, Brian, Brian, Casey, and everyone whose name and handle are just... lost to time now. You all made my life worth living for so long and I can never thank you enough for that.
#stupid forums hosts updated their website design to be garbage and just deleted the forums#also their mostly bad people who run it#was never in it for them anyway
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Smoke Rings and Cigarettes [Chapter Four] Digging Up Bones [Vinsmoke Sanji]
Adella hummed a jaunty tune as she jotted down notes on a blank sheet of writing paper. She was on a roll.
It had been a long time – several months – since her mind had been so clear. And the Straw Hats were to thank for her sudden output of ideas. Meeting them seemed to lift the mental block in her mind. At least for the moment. Adella didn’t have a concrete plot, but she had a faint idea of how she wanted to start her novel; the next step for Mousy was the call to adventure.
But what drives her to leave her home?
Adella sighed and took off her glasses, peering over at the window. It looked to be around mid-morning; the sun was high in the sky over Grimsdale. She reckoned she’d better take a break. A cup of tea sounded wonderful.
Leaving her study, Adella walked down to the kitchen and opened the drawer above the sink. But there weren’t any tea bags left. She hummed in confusion. Where did all her tea go?
A sudden memory came to mind. The Straw Hats! How could she have forgotten? Nami and she drank the majority of it as they chatted fondly about her home and fashion. Having someone to talk to seemed to brighten her day. Perhaps they could do it again before the Straw Hats left Grimsdale.
Adella hoped so.
I guess I’d better go into town before the shops close, she thought.
Dressing into something more presentable, Adella left her house. She kept to the backstreets as she always did, then turned onto Rainey Way, heading towards P2 Lakefair Street. There was a wonderful tea shop she loved to buy from that had imported teas from around the world.
As she got closer to the street, she noticed a familiar man standing in front of a store window on the adjacent street, Holcomb.
“Mister Sanji!?”
What was he doing in town? The residents out and about didn’t seem to pay him much mind thankfully.
Upon hearing his name, Sanji turned and began to swoon.
“Adella dear! It’s so good to see you.”
She felt her face turn red. He was such a sweetheart.
“Likewise,” Adella mentioned. She hummed in wonder. “What are you in town for?”
“I’m looking for supplies, but there don’t seem to be any spice shops or kiosks in this town,” Sanji answered.
Adella laughed.
“That’s because everything is sold indoors here, because of the street muck. You see Grimsdale is laid out in a fishbone shape, and each adjacent street is a shop that sells food products. Rainey Way runs between each of them and coming from the port, Stainton is the first street. Across from it is Lakefair, a food street,” she explained.
Sanji hummed.
“So, there are three of them?”
“That’s correct. Lakefair, Alghera, and Nazaire are all streets with shops that sell food products. Their adjacent streets: Stainton, Holcomb, and Entrance sell just about everything else,” Adella answered.
Sanji grinned.
“That certainly saves me some time. Thank you.”
“I’m happy to help,” Adella mentioned, “And if you like I can show you the best shop for spices. Of course, that is if you don’t mind escorting me to Lakefair Street. I have to buy more tea.”
He didn’t mind at all. Sanji felt bad for his crew having drank all her tea yesterday, but if it meant getting to walk around with a pretty girl then he was content.
“I’d be more than happy to escort you, Adella dear.”
She was thrilled. Adella linked her arm with his and walked with him over to Lakefair Street. Sanji held open the door to the tea shop for her and watched as she browsed the selections. He too looked around.
Spotting a familiar brand, Adella grinned.
“How wonderful!”
Since Sanji made her a cup of Vanilla Kiss during their first meeting, she had been wanting another. Adella held it against her chest and picked out a few more that would last her a while, then waited on Sanji. Once he was done, she led him to the front desk where a woman with deep-set eyes stood.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Helene,” Adella greeted her.
“Is that everything?” The said woman asked with a bite.
Sanji raised a brow. How rude. Adella didn’t seem to mind though. She put on a smile and paid Helene, then collected her bag and moved aside for him.
“Are you one of those pirates wandering around?” Helene asked, looking him over.
Before Sanji could answer, Adella interrupted.
“He’s a close friend of mine who came to visit. He’s only going to be in town for a short while.”
It was an obvious lie, but Sanji’s heart swooned regardless.
“Best not cause too much of an issue for us,” Helene mentioned, clearly not impressed.
“He won’t,” Adella assured her.
She waited for Sanji to pay, then took him by the hand, leading him outside.
The entire ordeal was awkward for her, it seemed, so Sanji squeezed her hand and allowed her to lead him to the next store without a word. Still, he wondered what the shop owner’s issue with Adella was. He was beginning to think sourly of the people of Grimsdale.
“I’m sorry for this,” Adella mentioned sadly, taking out her keys.
She never meant to drag Sanji back to her house, but seeing him so passionate about cooking, she ended up asking him to prepare a dish for her. It occurred to her a little too late that he must have better things to do than cater to her. She just wanted to eat his cooking again; his sandwiches were delicious.
“It’s no problem. I don’t mind cooking for such a beautiful lady,” Sanji mentioned.
Adella was relieved. She hummed in delight.
“I’m so excited. My mouth is watering just thinking about what tasty dish you are going to make.”
Sanji grinned.
“You’re too cute.”
Adella felt her face heat up and opened the door for him; he was the one carrying the most shopping bags, to her disagreement.
Like the first time, Sanji removed his shoes and walked back to the kitchen, setting the bags on the table. Adella offered for him to use her fridge to store the cold food until he left, so he made use of it as she unpacked her teas.
“Let me make you a cup of tea,” Sanji offered.
Adella hummed. She supposed it was fine.
“Thank you, Mister Sanji.”
She sat down at the table and watched him navigate around her kitchen. He was rather gentle with her things. She was thankful.
“Have long have you been a cook?” Adella asked.
Sanji hummed.
“Since I was a kid. I was the sous chef on an ocean-going restaurant in the East Blue before I joined with Luffy.”
“You had your reasons, I imagine,” Adella mentioned.
Sanji grinned. She didn’t seem to like prying much, not that he minded.
It was quiet for a while between them as Sanji prepped the dish until he looked over his shoulder at her; Adella averted her eyes in embarrassment having been caught staring at him.
“We appreciate the Log Pose you gave us. You didn’t have to hand us over your spare one though,” he brought up.
“It was my pleasure. Honestly, it was just sitting upstairs in the study gathering dust. I’m glad it can be of use again,” Adella mentioned.
Sanji hummed.
“Your father was an adventurer I take it.”
“He was. I got to travel around with him before my mother got sick, and when she passed, we gave up traveling all together,” Adella explained with a sad smile.
It was a touchy topic, Sanji could see.
“Do you miss traveling?”
Adella hummed.
“I do, but our house has been in Grimsdale for generations, and I’d hate to leave it.”
He understood.
Once her tea was done, Sanji poured her a glass and brought it over to the table. He could see that she was a little upset, but he was curious about something.
“Back in town, the owner of that tea shop was a bit rude to you, and you said that your house has been here for generations. Have they always been like that?”
Adella shook her head no.
“No one here likes for things to change. And once my father and I came back from our adventures, things for everyone changed. It’s a long story, honestly.”
Her eyes teared up.
Sanji felt bad for digging up the bones of her past, but he couldn’t stand how the people in town treated her. There was no reason for her to have to take the mucky backroads and stain her pretty dresses or fake a smile every time someone curled their nose up at her.
“I don’t know what happened in your past, Adella,” Sanji mentioned. “But I am going to cook you something so delicious that it wipes away those tears.”
Was he serious? Adella widened her eyes. She had never met a pirate so kind before. All she could do was nod as he turned around to continue.
For the first time in a long time, she didn’t have to fake a smile.
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Your NightOwl #011
If a meg falls down in the woods and no one’s around to document it (physically), does anyone remember it in twenty years?
No.
And maybe twenty years is more like five.
i’d been seeing this one name pop up a lot during a burst of about four years. i didn’t know it was a name, actually- i figured it was another goddamn buzzword. The last century’s lousy with buzzwords, but they’re helpful for my research. An increase in stupid buzzwords lets me know when a bubble’s forming.
Like you’re just digging in the dirt until you find ammonites and suddenly you’ve got your bearings again- “Oh, it’s this kind of rock layer.” (^_^ ；)
Buzzwords can be hard to spot, but I generally know its one if i can’t find a modern definition. Wware isn’t in any modern dictionary.
And i was perfectly happy with never knowing the meaning of yet another idiotic buzzword, but then i found this.
The actual video was heavily degraded, as you can see, but the subtitles were fine (and from what I’ve gathered about this kind of media, the subtitles are actually all that matter). Wware was a mystery to me, but according to this someone, Worklyware was a great corp to invest your parents savings (without asking them first, because time is short, don’t miss out!)
Worklyware, like a lot of powerful megs, didn’t make anything physical. That’s okay, that’s just what our world is like. Software and tech resources and intel and middlemanning are all pretty stupid, but it takes a certain amount of stupid to keep the world’s wheels greased and keep unemployment below 11% (i’m basically quoting Lobo word for word here, but whatever, he’s good with words).
Anyway, it’s fine for Worklyware to not produce anything real or meaningful, but i do considerate it a bad sign when even your own websites can’t describe what it is you do.
The most concrete thing i could find was a side project that was supposed to create bio-fuel from algae grown from the waste generated by a Coin farming operation.
That was the most concrete thing i could find.
You could still get away with this shit today, but not when you’re big enough to be called a meg. (On that note, is it a good or bad thing that survival of the fittest and cannibalism and corporate autophagy has given us modern-day mega-corps that are actually competent?)
Believe it or not, but Wware was a bubble. It inflated and popped within four short years. Sorry to all the retired parents whose children watched that video and felt lucky.
i really do think it’s sinister that something like that can come and go in such a short amount of time- not just cause of the pump’n’dumpers getting rich off of failure, mind you. i think it's sinister because there’s really no consequences.
Maybe, yeah, the ground-level employees have an awkward spot on their work history. And maybe sometimes some of the execs get charged or sued, and they have to plea out or settle, and they end up living a little less comfortably for two years before getting probation.
But that’s it.
The whole circus just packs up and the next day there’s just another field with trash everywhere.
Only real evidence is that all the little people’s wallets got a bit lighter. Whatever, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
i could see how being forgotten is a fitting punishment in some ways. i’m sure there are a few big ego types attached to these things that don’t like being yesterday’s news (even if the news was always bad). But on a longer time scale with a bigger picture
Well
A world that keeps forgetting is never gonna learn from its mistakes.
And it’ll never learn to recognize the empty-eyed smile of tomorrow’s new jackass, knocking on the door with brand new (same old) snake oil to sell.
apparently a student of history,
Your nightowl
(✖v✖)つ🕮
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Ch11-20
Ch11: Back Leachbomb or Mom
i’ve been resisting posting all the chapter covers but i just--tatsuhime
[insert pleading emoji here] i adore them
Ch12: The Gate of the End
fraccion prototype?
this one also has a cool cover...i think about one of those satire wikis a lot, idr which one it was but the entry for kubo was like “big time fashion designer who didn’t make it as a manga artist (bleach & zombiepowder have been forgotten except in trivia about the fashion guy)” or something...i liked this about the furuba chapter covers too, everyone is in seriously cool fashion...anyway, peak visuals, gg
oh interesting - iirc in the anime it was rukia who said that yuuichi’s mom would be waiting for him (perhaps i am wrong?), but in the manga it’s ichigo and that changes things a *lot*
Ch13: Bad Standard
kon *and* urahara at once, wrow
Ch14: School Daze!!
i wonder if the refs here to contemporary (to the early 2000s) pop culture were that way originally or if it was just the translation...it’s likely keigo’s attempt to teach the bird to say he looks like celebs was, but is the “only bru//ce willis” line?
Ch15: Jumpin’ Jack Jolted
Ch16: Wasted but Wanted
I LOVE when two charas are fighting a common enemy and also each other and then the common enemy interrupts their fight and they are Not Having It
& related to this, i do wonder who knows and how much about urahara and his dealings. obviously he’s able to get goods from soul society, and shinigami know about him (iirc he found rukia after ch1 tho, so she didn’t already know about him). so how open is the secret? his non-shinigami customer base would be like...the vizards and maaaaaybe ryuuken, tho i always assumed (or maybe it’s shown/stated) that he sells regular old human stuff too
Ch17: 6/17
ahh...memories in the rain, everything but the rain, *george lucas voice* it’s like poetry it rhymes
Ch18: 6/17 Op.2 Can’t Smile Don’t Blame
i do like that kubo chose a concrete date for when masaki died.
also the interspersing of the family going to the grave with tatsuki explaining everything to orihime...
Ch19: 6/17 Op.3 Memories in the Rain
if it weren’t the middle of the day i’d be playing the “drink whenever there’s dramatic irony” game (this time wrt kon’s remark on rukia losing friends bc she’s too focused on her work)
it’s easy to lose sight of rukia just hanging out in the world of the living, sleeping in ichigo’s closet, etc, but she’s isolated from her friends, in deep trouble wrt the “gave up all my powers to a human by accident” thing, and there’s no one she feels she can really reach out to. :(
*slams down imaginary glass* HOOOOBOY mrs ishida made sure of that
i’ve never actually seen ‘this is us’ but i’ve read some of the vulture recaps and this chap actually reminded me of the latest (sorry paywalled) a bit? you have a mom who is a superwoman to her kids to some degree and they want to be the ones who protect her but don’t know how, and have built up an unrealistic image of her....tho, obviously, the kurosaki kids were still rly young at this point, not actual adults approaching middle age
anyway, dr kurosaki, good job on not sending your kid to therapy after having witnessed his mother’s death at the age of 9! (i mean yeah this would have been the 90s and there’s the whole ghost thing, but...at least recognize your kid’s carrying that guilt around with him and talk to him about it in the ensuing 6-7 years)
Ch20: 6/17 Op.4 Face Again
“I don’t have a method of stepping into the depths of your heart without it getting dirty. So I’ll wait.” nnn
#richer rereads bleach#text post#long post#the foreshadowing is so delicious#and in general the substitute arc is a fave of mine#bleach
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cold sun ⤖ han jisung
❖ genre : soulmate au; fluff; angst
❖ word count : 2,6k.
❖ warning : slight swearing
❖ summary : in a world where one will lose something if their soulmate doesn’t reciprocate their words of love once they turn sixteen, jisung is willing to take the risk so you won’t have to bear the burden.
❖ note : i just realized how i always tend to write for jisung when i'm down :')) anywho this piece is a little different than what i usually come up with but i hope y'all enjoy it ♡
It’s the first day of the week.
“Hey, Y/N. I like you!”
And Han Jisung is really annoying.
Those words come out so easily. It's casual in a way that makes you bury your red nose deeper into the soft fabric of your scarf, which makes your footsteps quicken unknowingly as his voice chases after you loudly. Either way, this isn’t the first time Jisung has said so. In fact, it’s become a habit for him to remind you every other day.
There’s no particular reason why. Or at least that’s what you think.
It’s the end of the week. Jisung decides to hang himself upside down on your bed while you’re stressing over a presentation. “Hey, Y/N.” A cold winter breeze comes rushing against the perplexing glass of your window, shaking the frame violently before all motions come to silence.
Until, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he creeps up from behind you and chirps into your ear.
“What?” you let out a groan of displease when tempting warmth embraces you whole, prompting you to drop your attention and looking over your shoulder.
Jisung pouts, “You didn’t answer me.”
“It’s because you’re annoying,” you sigh.
“Answer me when I call your name,” he pulls you in a fraction tighter, careful enough not to hurt you but firm to not let you slip away at the same time, and cradles your neck warmly, “So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”
“Alright, stupid.”
The all too familiar gummy smile returns instantly. “Hey, Y/N?”
And you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, Jisung?”
“I like you,” he giggles into the hug, “I like you a lot.”
Han Jisung really is annoying.
He’s annoying because he talks too much. He’s annoying because of how he always asks for your notes after a gaming night with Felix just to nap in class. He’s annoying because he’d drop you in a heartbeat for a single slice of cheesecake from Jeongin’s mom’s bakery. He’s annoying because of how well he can get along with everyone.
Chatty, down-to-earth, easy-going with a lovable smile—attractive, very attractive.
It’s the week after that. “What...happened?”
“He lost his voice,” Jeongin sighs, looking like he genuinely wants to facepalm himself against concrete while walking with an incoherent Jisung to school; expressive hands with his mouth agape and all.
You tilt your head, “...for real?”
“For real.”
After a few seconds of eyeing Jisung struggling with converting what’s in his head, you exhale deeply and quickly rummage through your backpack, “Just stop, you look ridiculous.” And he does just that, zipping his mouth metaphorically and giving you those typical puppy eyes. “Here, use this.”
His eyes light up like stars when you rip off a page from one of your notebooks and offer it to him along with a pen. Truth is, you’re expecting something as predictable as ‘I like you’ or ‘It’s alright it’s just the worst cold I’ve ever caught’. But then, what’s displayed on the piece of paper right now only baffles you.
Park is going to murder you if he sees some uglyass tear in your Ochem notes :)
A forced grin splits your lips open. “Not if I murdered you first and then the entire school and then myself.”
The first genuine smile blossoms on his lips when you give him a mini-sized notepad and pencil the day after—his sixteenth birthday.
And Jisung decides this is it.
It happens when the sun hasn’t even come out yet and the irritating blue light from his phone reads 5:32 AM.
It happens when he sees your reclined figure leaning back against his mattress, his pupils tracing your delicate features. Perplexed emotions fill his eyes to the brim, fulfillment bursting within his chest when you stare right back at him with such purity. So pure that it seems you can do no harm to him and neither can he.
“Hey stupid,” you murmur quietly, shoving a notepad and pencil against his chest, “Happy birthday.”
Jisung gives you a bright smile, opens his mouth, and snaps it close mere moments later. Sixteenth birthday. Early in the morning. Tired grins. The fondness of being so disgustingly in love.
He can’t help but lean in and caves into the taste his soul has longed for as long as he can remember.
Two weeks have passed since Jisung has lost his voice.
Nothing has differed if you’re being completely honest. Han Jisung is still annoying. His lack of ability to speak doesn’t appear to be a problem to him at all. He loves chatting with people even though he’s more of a listener now. But with the small notepad you gave him a few days ago, being socially active is the norm for him even now.
Thanks to his rather short-period experiences of observing people’s expressions and how their features contort in certain ways when they’re feeling certain emotions, Jisung catches onto your mood more quickly during bad days to help you release your inner turmoil by scribbling down something stupid on the notepad. It’s kinda nice like this, you’d think to yourself sometimes.
Other times, you’re more scared that you might have forgotten what his voice sounds like.
“No wonder you got a fucking cold. Stop taking midnight showers already.”
You wave Jisung over when he closes the wooden door to your bedroom, droplets dripping from his hair as he scratches his stomach tiredly. His hair is a mess when he lazily crawls onto your bed, the cushion beside you dips slightly.
His index finger pointing at his post-shower head and a shit-eating grin are all you need to snatch the white towel around his neck.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you mumble while rubbing the cotton fabric into his hair, “But you’re awfully upbeat for someone who’s lost their voice. Can’t you at least pretend to be sad about it?”
A noise of protest escapes his throat like second nature as your eyes carefully read the quick movements of his mouth. “And can you not be so mean to someone who’s lost their voice?”
A faint smirk creeps its way up to your lips. “Still like me now?”
Jisung thinks hard for a few moments before jumping out of bed to snatch his notepad from your studying area. Of course, I like you. I like you a lot. Your heartbeat momentarily spikes at his scrawny handwriting. Just when your gaze is averted away to cool the blush on your cheeks, he tugs at your sleeve again and points at a different mess of scribbles. You’re more gentle when I’m like this. And you’d always find me if I ever got into trouble. What’s there for me to be sad about?
“Annoying little shit,” you swallow your pride and let him settle his head against your chest.
His presence melts into yours during the hardest hours of the twenty-four, heartbeats on heartbeats and warmth on warmth. Your one regret is that you’re unable to register his tears that night, only the incoherent, breathless hiccups almost as to desperately call out your name.
It’s been a month since Jisung’s lost his voice. And the night when he kisses you for the second time, his notepad is long forgotten next to your pillow.
I-can’t-talk. Give-me-a-break.
Jeongin. Cheesecake. Please? Pretty please?
I’ll fucking kick you.
Wait, there’s homework?!
...so you’re telling me LMAO isn’t how French people laugh?
“This is what you’ve been doing during breaks huh…” you mumble under your breath while lazily flipping through the papers. The occasional ‘I like you’-s do pop up every two pages or so, which is more than enough to make you smile like an idiot. But that is until a peculiar paragraph yanks your attention by its neck and tosses it against a brick wall.
Mom, promise me you’re not going to cry.
He made auntie cry?!
I lost my voice for real now but it wasn’t supposed to be like that at first. I just wanted to mess with Y/N and freak her out for a day.
I’m seriously going to punch him.
She was a lot softer toward me after that, you know. I know it’s extremely selfish of me but I just can’t help being so happy. I’m sorry, mom. I really am.
Han Jisung you fucking idiot.
I was going to surprise her on my birthday by saying ‘good morning’ out loud but nothing came out. My voice was gone.
Guilt, anger, remorse take over you. You knew nothing of this. You never once questioned for a logical reason behind the loss of his voice and kept moving onward as if it’s not that big of a deal. You didn’t suspect it as a kind of prank, either. But you still care, all this time! You have been doing everything in your power as a way for both you and Jisung to treasure himself even if he can’t speak anymore.
I went to a check-up last week. Nothing came up. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.
However, without fail, the obnoxious part of you will keep wandering back to the concept of soulmates that has been engraved so deeply into the society you’re living in. It makes no sense to you that Jisung lost his voice for no reason right before his sixteenth birthday. This explains it all now.
It’s going to be okay, mom. Because I have Y/N. I know she would come running toward my side over and over again even if she can’t hear me anymore. I really don’t know what I’d do without her in my life.
Jisung knew the penalty for being the first to exchange any words of love yet he still did it. And you were too busy overlooking that stupid pride of yours to say those three words back.
It’s getting to the point where I’m starting to forget what I used to sound like. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.
Jisung fixes the strap of his backpack, looking up at his mom after slipping into his sneakers. She ruffles his bed head and hands him a small white box with Jeongin’s bakery’s signature logo on it.
He tilts his head in faint confusion, peering at the box of pastry in his arms.
“Give it to Y/N on the bus, okay? Her parents aren’t home right now. You know how she would always skip breakfast when they’re out of town.”
His eyes light up instantly in realization and Jisung nods, preparing to bid her farewell. Just then, his front door comes flying open. It can’t be a mere acquaintance because there are very few people other than his parents and himself who know of the spare key hidden under the welcome mat.
As Jisung turns around, he’s keenly aware of your teary eyes already trained on him. Which in hindsight, makes no sense. As a result, panic rises within the hollowness of his chest, his lips falling agape but no coherent words come out.
“Y/N, sweetheart,” his mom flinches, slightly caught off guard, “Is everything okay?”
A scowl stretches over your contorted features as you shut the door loudly. “What the hell is this?” you question, shoving the familiar notepad into his chest. “A prank? A prank?! Do you think that this is funny?”
Jisung’s frantic eyes move to read the paper and every single color on his face drains tremendously. He easily recognizes the peculiar paragraph by how much lighter the ink is compared to the rest of the messy lines because his pen was running low and his hand couldn’t stop shaking.
Your voice.
His eyes avert back to look at you. His brows furrow timidly and shaky breaths burst from his lips almost like a desperate cry for help. There’s too much he wants to say, too many things to explain, and too many questions running through his head that he can’t process what to do next. He might just overwhelm both you and himself.
I need to hear it again.
And you might not stay by his side this time.
“Okay, don’t answer me then, I guess,” you chuckle lowly, dipping your head and turning around.
Jisung grabs at your sleeve instinctively and drops the pastry box, his gaze empty and all too knowing. Sorrow glazes over his starry eyes when it starts becoming hard to breathe properly. The outlines of his lips are moving non-stop yet nothing comes following after that.
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you rasp out and tug at his hand. Then it hits you. He’s like this because of you. Jisung lost his voice because of you.
His mom cuts into the conversation, “Y/N, you don’t understand!”
“I’m sorry, auntie,” you smile sadly and take off running into the streets.
You, in the midst of your self-loathing and guilt, allow your feet to go wherever they want as your vision spirals into a blur. A single droplet threatens to fall when a forceful hand yanks you back to reality.
It takes Jisung a moment to regain his regular breathing pace. And when he finally gets it, all he can do is call out to you with the same inaudible sounds and the same desperation in his eyes. It seems as though he’s fully aware that the prank was the stupidest, most irrational thing he’s ever done. But there’s more to the ocean within his eyes than just remorse.
“I already told you,” you clench your jaw and slap his hand away, “I don’t fucking know what you’re saying!”
A deep sigh. “Why am I mad? Of course, I’d be mad! It’s because of me that you lost your voice! It’s because I like you, too! Yet I never said it back… You lost your voice because of me! Don't you get it? Why can't you just hate me for the sake of it?!”
You miss his voice. You miss it a lot.
You want to hear it again. You want to hear him call you by your name. You want to stay up late and talk about anything to the ends of the Earth and back with him. You want him to be the obnoxious, chatty Han Jisung you've always known.
You miss how annoyingly loud he is.
“Y-Y...Y/N…!”
Jisung collapses onto his knees, a hand on concrete while the other is on his neck. His chest rises and falls unevenly, muffled noises of discomfort echoing deep down from his throat. Despite that, what you heard just now, is his voice.
“Answer me when I call your name. So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”
“I promised you, didn’t I,” you spread your arms and smile warmly, “That I’d always answer when you call my name. As long as I can still hear you, I will come running toward you over and over again. Doesn’t matter what it takes, doesn’t matter where you are.”
Jisung lifts his head and tears come rolling down on his cheeks. His throat feels swollen when he stutters with difficulties, trying to convey what’s in his head, “Y-Y/N, don’t- don’t go! Please don’t leave me...!”
“Come here,” you close your eyes with the widest grin on your lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Only when Jisung grows closer and throws his arms around you, sobbing into your uniform do you convince yourself that all of this isn’t a hallucination. The hug is a lot stronger than what you’d expect. First of all, you nearly fell over from the impact and your arms are pinned so tightly to your sides that you feel like your ribs are going to snap.
Everything is so overwhelming that all you can say is, “Ow.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles into your hair and loosens his arms a bit so you can loop your hands to the nape of his neck and hair.
“You’re so annoying, Han Jisung.”
He purses his lips, sniffling, “You tried to make me snap on purpose. Meanie.”
You quirk a playful brow, “Still like me now?”
“Yeah,” Jisung smiles, “A lot.”
Because he knows that he has you. Until every last star in the galaxy explodes as a supernova, Jisung has you.
#skzwritersclub#inkidz#stray kids#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#han jisung#han jisung imagines#han jisung scenarios#jisung imagines#jisung scenarios#stray kids fluff#skz x reader#han jisung x reader#bang chan#lee minho#seo changbin#hwang hyunjin#lee felix#kim seungmin#yang jeongin#see queue later
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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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I’ve been seeing an uptick in “anti-RWDE” posts lately — which is a phenomenon I’d like to comment on at a later date — but for now one of them (quite unintentionally) made me realize something about the finale that I haven’t seen others discuss yet.
So RWBYJNOR saves everyone, right? Let’s just put aside the animation for a moment — which didn’t show any army members making it out — as well as the forgotten side characters — Maria, Pietro, Qrow’s group isn’t forgotten, but still left behind — and take things on good faith here. We’ll read the finale through the thematic intention: RWBYJNOR saved “everyone” in the Kingdom of Atlas in Volume 8, deliberately contrasting them with Ironwood who was willing to sacrifice a chunk of the Kingdom in Volume 7. Forget all the messiness and just accept that regardless of the consequences — like a destroyed Kingdom and a “dead” team — the heroes are heroic because they didn’t give into a “lesser evil” thinking and managed to save everyone.
Now, how was that possible?
Let’s go back to the beginning of the seventh episode of Volume 8, “War.” Salem’s grimm have just burrowed through Atlas’ defenses and taken them out. The shields are gone. She flies Monstra into the fields and releases an army of darkness that immediately heads for the city. What’s the very first thing Ironwood does?
Soldier: Yes, sir?
Ironwood: I am evacuating all citizens to the subway. Prepare Manta Squad Omega, and dispatch to every part of Atlas.
Soldier: But sir-
Ironwood: Now!
He evacuates the people, with “the people” meaning all the Atlesians and however many Mantle folk got to the city prior to Salem’s arrival. When this episode aired I mentioned being confused as to why the soldier was so hesitant. Why wouldn’t you want the people to get to safety when a grimm army is heading their way? Fans against Ironwood took the soldier’s side, claiming that Mountain Glenn proved that any underground evacuation is a death sentence and thus he obviously doesn’t really care about the peoples’ safety. Fans in support of/neutral towards Ironwood pointed out that this is a pretty big leap, no one is coming up with a better idea for what he should do instead, and that within these circumstances it reads like the soldiers is illogically against this idea simply because everyone is against Ironwood now. The show wants characters criticizing his decisions and making him out to look like a crazed dictator... even during moments when it doesn’t make any sense to be upset with him. Shooting the councilman yes, trying to keep the people safe no. Basically, this small exchange was a mess, but the rest of the volume proved that this was a sound call. The subway never collapsed and no grimm ever made it to that enclosed space to pick the civilians off like fish in an underground barrel.
So, why didn’t that happen? Well, one answer is because Oscar and Ozpin destroyed the whale. But how did they have time to do that? Without the people dying while they were being tortured, talking to Hazel, escaping with Emerald, fighting Salem, etc.? A lot happened between Salem starting her attack and Oscar ending it, so why wasn’t 2/3rds of the Kingdom’s population decimated during that time?
Because Ironwood sent his army out to keep the grimm occupied.
Outside of Ironwood’s cartoon villain actions — random murders and bomb threats — which get the most attention due to how deliberately, over-the-top horrific they are, these are the two actions that get the most negative attention from both the story and the fanbase. The soldier seems horrified by the order to evacuate. Marrow is devastated that young adults are fighting in this battle. The fandom is disgusted by both aspects of Ironwood’s character: giving orders that, as general, he expects to be obeyed and having an army that follows those orders. Putting side that cartoon villainy, this is what supposedly makes Ironwood the antagonist here. These are the qualities that have existed since Volume 2, resulting in a “he was always a bad guy” interpretation. These are the qualities that have resulted in anyone who likes his character being labeled as a “bootlicker.” We know these qualities make the fandom hate him because otherwise, more people would be confused as to why a presumably heroic character randomly shot Oscar. Orders, armies, and general military associations are at the heart of Ironwood’s presumed villainy.
So let’s remove them.
Ironwood has no evil army. Ironwood gives no evil orders. Power and control lies solely in the hands of our non-military heroes. Everything is better!
...well, no. Because we saw in Volume 8 precisely the choices our heroes made when the attack started: half of them focused on saving a single individual (Oscar) and the other half kept to the sidelines. At no point did our RWB group act after sending the message and prior to securing the Staff. AKA, during the attack of Salem’s army. We got a very explicit moment in which Ruby looked out the window at the battle going on and turned away from it, continuing to discuss ethics instead of joining the fight. The people of Atlas (which, again, includes many Mantle citizens) had no one but Ironwood and his army because a third of the group was trying to rescue Oscar (they never even had a plan to blow up Monstra — that was also Ironwood), a third of the group was up in Amity, and a third was sitting in the mansion. They did nothing to help the people of Atlas being attacked by grimm.
Thus, if you remove Ironwood’s actions, everything goes to hell. There is no longer an order to evacuate to the subway. Maybe some people go there anyway. Most probably don’t. They run in a panic wherever they can. Hide wherever they can. Go back home for some semblance of safety.
There’s no longer an army. Either it doesn’t exist because we’ve determined it’s simplistically bad despite RWBY’s grimm-specific context, or Ironwood likewise never gives the order to protect Atlas’ border. Salem’s army moves unimpeded through the city, killing countless people as it goes. How do we know? Because they’re civilians who can’t defend themselves and there’s literally no one else to help. Remember: Ironwood is not giving orders, there is no army, RWB is in the mansion, YJOR is in the whale, Penny is out of commission, the Happy Huntresses are in Mantle. Those in Atlas are entirely alone. In time, Oscar destroys the whale, but by then it’s too late. There’s no concrete way to theorize how many have died, but it’s inevitably a lot. Everyone else is scatted across the city, trying to survive.
So this scene
no longer exists.
When the group gets the Staff and creates portals for “everyone” to escape through, Mantle is ready to go. They’ve gotten everyone into the crater and can funnel them straight to Vacuo. Atlas, however, is in chaos. When Jaune enters the subway there’s only a few people there, many of which may be wounded or dying. He’s right back where he started, in Mantle at the beginning of Volume 8: needing to go door-to-door to find where people have hidden themselves, trying to convince them all to follow him (remember Oscar commenting to Ozpin about how difficult that was?). Except now, he and Nora are the only ones trying to get people to safey, the city is filled with far more grimm, a significant amount of time has passed for people to be killed or injured (making evacuating them even harder, both due to injuries and an unwillingness to leave hurt/dead/missing loved ones behind), he’s trying to convince these panicking people to go through magic portals, not just walk to a crater, and he’s aware that there’s a very short time limit for this task.
Jaune returns in a panic of his own, explaining how difficult it will be to get that 2/3rds of the Kingdom to Vacuo. How many are already dead. Barricaded. Missing. Closeup on Ruby looking horrified, but then she rallies. They can do it. Atlas is falling, but residual dust gives them just enough time to find, calm, and evacuate those people. They’re heroes after all. Beating the odds is what they do.
Then Cinder attacks.
Suddenly, the group can’t evacuate people because they’re trying to keep themselves safe from her. Maybe Cinder gets the powers because Jaune was off looking for civilians, leaving Penny without a mercy kill. Maybe Nora dies because she’s still trying to help people on the city that plows into the one below. Regardless of how details might change, they’re not getting a spread out, decimated population through those portals before Cinder changes the wish and makes them disappear.
In this version, the story starts with Ironwood wanting to sacrifice 1/3rd of the population to save 2/3rds and the future of the war. It ends with 2/3rds of the population dying instead.
This is what I mean when I say the majority of the fandom wants to view a very complex situation through a ridiculously simple lens. The fandom wants to denounce every bit of RWBY’s fictionalized military, the context issues of that aside. The story wants to paint RWBYJNOR as the only heroes, in part because they succeeded in saving everyone (“everyone”) in the Kingdom when Ironwood gave up.
But they only managed to save everyone because of Ironwood. Because he kept fighting for his people to the bitter end. This is why, though his horrific actions obviously exist in the story, they make no sense (he’ll threaten to kill his people so he can... save his people?) and mess up what little is working in the finale. The story wants us to celebrate the group for evacuating Mantle and Atlas, but the Atlas evacuation would not have happened if not for Ironwood’s actions — the actions that are ignored in favor of having Winter blame him for everything and then killing him off. The rescue of “everyone” was very much a joint effort. RWBYJNOR’s win is not actually a contrast to Ironwood’s intended sacrifice, for the simple reason that their win depended entirely on Ironwood’s actions.
If we’re going to celebrate the group getting everyone to safety, we should probably also celebrate the guy who got them all to an easy evacuation point and ensured they weren’t eaten before then. Does that mean Ironwood never did anything wrong? Of course not. As established, the story went out of its way to make him into a villain. Rather, it means that other parts of the story failed to maintain that black and white view, complicating the heroism of RWBYJNOR in the process. If we want Ironwood to be incapable of heroic action, always the bad guy, nothing good to say about him whatsoever... then we likewise need to accept that the group is rather unheroic in many regards too. That, on their own, they would have failed to save everyone, just as Ironwood’s plan failed to save everyone at the end of Volume 7. Because they chose their friend over a kingdom. Because they sat around in a mansion. Because by the time they took action again and tried to escape, without Ironwood’s help they would have lost a larger majority than they originally insisted be saved.
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you used to paint his skies
pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x GN!Reader
overview: The one in which Bokuto swears up and down that he loves you, but the nagging feeling in your chest is too strong to ignore.
word count: ~3.9k
content warnings: cheating (PAIN), MSBY!Bokuto, I use like 9 swear words, you might cry depending on your mood, don’t let the fluff at the beginning deceive you, idek if this is good angst, no concrete happy ending ??? :c
notes: Happy (late) New Year !! This is my first time posting here, so sorry if this is hot garbage :P — btw TO ALL THE BOKUTO FAVES OUT THERE, I’M TRULY SORRY. I PROMISE I ADORE HIM WITH MY ENTIRE HEART AND SOUL !!! thank you for your time ٩(♡ε♡)۶
part two.
––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Bokuto Koutarou, the love of your life. You knew him like the back of your hand; you prided yourself in that fact, actually.
After four years of being able to call him yours, you thought you’d caught onto nearly all of his idiosyncrasies, the little quirks and peculiarities that made him so uniquely him. So uniquely yours.
You knew how he’d always pick out the cucumbers in a dish and plop them onto your plate — that cheeky smile of his adorning his face.
– – – – –
“Bokuto, this is ridiculous,” you sighed, watching as your boyfriend found another slice of cucumber and added it to the growing pile in the corner of your plate.
He stopped and stared at you like a child who’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. You tried to fight back a smile seeing the top of his hair deflate ever so slightly.
“First of all, I’m not Bokuto to you. Second of all, baby, look!” He pointed to the small mound of vegetables on your plate. “I asked them for no cucumbers but what did they add? Cucumbers!” He seemed to deflate even further as he pouted at the offensive sight.
“Listen, Bokuto-”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Babe-”
“Better. Thank you, honey.”
Letting out a small giggle, you continued, “Listen, babe. Can you at least try one piece for me? Maybe you’ll realise that cucumbers don’t taste as bad as they did when you were younger.”
You caught the skeptical look he was giving you.
“How many?” you asked with a tiny smirk tugging at your lips. Bokuto seemed to perk up at your words.
“One cucumber for five kisses.”
“Boku- Babe, that’s ridiculous,” you laughed. “One kiss.”
“Six kisses.”
“You can’t make the number higher, Kou!”
“Fine, four.”
“Three.”
“Deal.”
– – – – –
You knew how he’d twiddle his fingers whenever he wanted to hold your hand but didn’t want to invade your personal space, especially if the two of you were in public or if you’d just had a rough day.
– – – – –
Bokuto walked right next to you, making sure you were on the inside of the sidewalk in an attempt not to lose you among the sea of passersby. He glanced down at your hands tucked into your jacket pockets, silently longing for their warmth. Moving his eyes back down to the ground in front of him, he began to absentmindedly pick at his fingers.
Your eyes caught the slight movement and you turned your head to where your boyfriend was walking right beside you. He had the smallest pout on his face as he continued to play with his hands.
A smile grew on your face and your eyes softened up at him.
“Hey.”
Bokuto jumped at the sound but looked to your smiling face as a similar grin brightened up his.
“Hi, baby.”
“You know, my hands are feeling awfully cold, even in my pockets,” you feigned a huff. “Can you help me, babe?” Bringing your hand out into the cold air, you opened it invitingly, wiggling your fingers.
His bright smile grew even bigger as he excitedly grasped onto you and stuck your intertwined hands into his pocket.
“Of course I can, baby!” He even went the extra mile and wrapped his scarf around your neck, patting your head once he was done.
– – – – –
You knew how much he liked going out for drinks with his teammates after their games, and sometimes, he’d ask you to tag along; you’d always agree, even though you weren’t big on drinking yourself (his puppy-dog eyes were truly lethal). Despite the fact that he could hold his alcohol quite well, he’d always stop at one or two drinks if you were out with him.
And you also knew that he absolutely treasured the feeling of being yours, just as you did with being his.
– – – – –
After a night of drinking with Bokuto’s teammates, you found yourself walking through the car park as he flanked your backside, his arms resting comfortably around your shoulders. Feeling a chilly breeze run across your skin, you shifted your body closer to Bokuto’s. He tightened his hug, pulling you closer into his chest.
“Y’know, Kou,” you spoke softly as the two of you approached his car — you felt the low rumble of his responding hum through his chest. “If you wanted to, you could’ve had a bit more to drink. I know you wanted to try out one of the new cocktails with Atsumu. We even agreed that I’d be driving-”
“Of course I know that, honey!” Bokuto cut you off with a small giggle and kissed the top of your head. “If I wanted to, I would. But I didn’t, did I?” His arms tightened as he rested his head in the crook of your neck.
“But, Boku-”
“No.”
“Babe,” you laughed, “I just want you to be able to have fun, okay? This is one of your last games of the season and I-”
Bokuto pulled you away from his embrace and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around to face him. He leaned into you, and with your noses nearly touching and your wide eyes meeting his sparkling ones, you understood his silent message.
“Stop worrying, I’m okay.”
Suddenly pulling away from him, you gasped for air, realising that you’d forgotten to breathe when he brought himself closer. You flushed, hearing his roaring laughter.
“Just get in the car, ya big lughead.” Walking to the passenger side of the car, you opened the door for Bokuto to climb in and put his seat belt on for him. He was still laughing, but it ceased after he heard the latter half of what you said.
“What do you mean ‘lughead’?” He pouted as you slid into the driver’s seat, having to adjust the chair as you grumbled about how he was too big for his own good. “I thought I was your babe, your Kou. Remember?”
“Yes, babe. You are my boy, my dovey, my Koutarou.” You turned to him, placing a hand on the side of his face as your thumb lightly stroked his cheek. Leaning in, your lips met his in a small kiss. “And forever will be,” you whispered against his lips.
He brought you into another kiss, deeper this time, pulling away only to pepper little pecks across your cheeks as you giggled into him.
“And you,” he began, planting a big kiss on your forehead, “are my honey, my lovey, my angel.” He sighed contentedly, squishing your face between his hands. “My perfect, pretty baby.”
– – – – –
Bokuto Koutarou, the love of your life. You knew him like the back of your hand.
So how had it come to this point?
The two of you were currently locked in a tense silence. The argument you were having only minutes ago was still ringing in your ears. Bokuto’s eyes glared down at you as his nostrils flared with barely restrained frustration.
You sighed in exhaustion.
“Kou, all I’m asking is for you to take a break.” You tried to ignore the way his hands curled up into fists from where his arms were crossed. “I know this next game means a lot to you, but can’t you see that you’re working yourself to the bone? You’re exhausted, babe. One break for you is all I want. Please just listen to me this one time.”
You began to take a step toward him, but your efforts were quickly squashed upon seeing a deep scowl take shape on his face.
Bokuto scoffed.
“If you know how much it means to me, then you’d know how I need to practice to make sure that my team wins.”
“Yes, I know that, but you just look so tired nowadays, and I’m worried, Kou. I know you, and right now, what you need is a break so that-”
“Then clearly you know jack shit about me!”
Hearing his outburst, you stumbled back slightly and pulled your hands up to your chest as you felt them begin to tremble.
“Every fucking day, I work and I practice just so that we can keep living happily and my team can keep winning.” He began to stalk toward your cowering figure. “If you know me so fucking well, then you’d know that what I don’t need right now is you coddling me, breathing down my goddamn neck, and telling me what to do with myself.”
Bokuto’s hands were clenched at his sides as he glared holes into your skull. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, afraid of what you’d be met with, who you’d be met with.
This wasn’t your Koutarou.
Your sweet, loving, doting Koutarou who would always remember to give you a morning kiss before he left for practice. Your Koutarou who shoveled cream and sugar into his morning coffee because he couldn’t stand the bitterness of black coffee (“It’s like drinking rat poison!” he’d once told you). Your Koutarou who would try his very best to cut up fruit into little shapes for you whenever you weren’t feeling well. Your Koutarou who, when he found you in the stands at his games, would reach a hand up to his face, his thumb touching the tip of his nose, and wiggle the rest of his fingers with the biggest grin on his face — his good luck salute.
The man in front of you was not him.
You tried to look everywhere but his towering figure, your eyes beginning to sting as your vision grew blurry.
“Dovey, I’m s-sorry,” you shakily whispered, “I just w-want what’s best f-for you-”
“Don’t pull that shit right now. If you want what’s best for me, you’d know when to back off.”
Your breathing grew heavier as you watched Bokuto turn away from you, moving closer to the front door.
“D-Dovey-”
“You know what? I’m tired of this.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out. Away from you.”
“But it’s cold! A-And you need to rest for tomorrow’s practice!”
“I need fucking space.” He shoved his arms into a thin jacket, shoving his keys and phone into pocket before forcefully pulling the door open.
“Koutarou, please!”
The resonant slam that echoed in your home opened the floodgates. Your throat squeezed in pain as you tried to hold in an onslaught of sobs. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you tried to keep your feet steady as you curled in on yourself. Salty tears rolled down your cheeks while Bokuto’s words ran through your head.
“Then clearly you know jack shit about me!”
“I’m tired of this.”
“I need fucking space.”
As your sobs abated into small hiccups and your vision became less blurry with tears, you were able to shakily pick yourself up off the floor and walk to one of the front windows. Looking out into the dark night, you noticed that Bokuto’s car was nowhere to be seen in the driveway. Your heart seemed to clench again, and you gnawed on your lip to force down another sob urging its way up your throat.
Slowly, you made your way to your shared bedroom and fell face first into Bokuto’s side of the bed. Inhaling the scent in his pillow, you pulled it closer to you. The prickling feeling in the corner of your eyes was growing familiar.
In the silence of the night, you were left with your thoughts rampaging through your mind and the moonlight shyly peeking through the curtains.
You didn’t understand. When had it all gone to shit? The two of you seemed fine just yesterday; Bokuto had woken up before you and smothered your face in kisses so that the two of you could get up together.
But recently, you’ve come to notice how there was an underlying tiredness in your boyfriend’s eyes. He constantly complained of muscle aches and soreness and how the team’s practices kept running longer than usual.
That was when you decided to step in and tell him to take a break for the sake of his team and, more importantly, his health. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t seem to take too well to your “coddling,” and that was what brought you to your current situation.
Stray tears leaked out of your eyes as you thought back to the argument. Where did he go? Did he have somewhere safe to stay? Would he even come back? Did he really think you coddled him? Was he finally tired of you, of your relationship? Was this the end?
You tried to shake the thoughts from your mind, telling yourself, “No, no! He still loves you.” But your mind was unrelenting, picturing too many scenarios of how he could be happier without you worrying about him every hour of every day.
Briefly, you thought about calling him to make sure that he was safe but decided against it. What if he thought you were still trying to “coddle” him? What if he thought you were too suffocating?
You didn’t sleep well that night.
– – – – –
The next morning, the crushing realisation that Bokuto hadn’t come home last night fell on top of you as you felt the empty bed. In a slight panic, you reached out for your phone on the nightstand and dialed his number.
One time, no answer. Two times, no answer. On your third try, you sighed in relief, gratefully hearing the click of the other end.
“Oh thank goodness, Kou.” You stumbled out of bed as you made your way into the bathroom. “Where are you right now? Are you safe? Who’re you staying with? Do you need me to come-”
“I’m sorry who is this?” an unfamiliar voice interrupted you. The person on the other end seemed like they had just woken up from their hoarse tone.
You stilled as a tremor started crawling up your spine, but you willed it down. No, he would never! He loves you!
“Hello?”
Taking a deep breath, you responded, “Oh uh, Bokuto’s my boyfriend.” You gave a weak laugh. “Are you a friend of his? Can you tell him something for me once he wakes up?”
There was rustling on the other end of the call as the person seemed to be getting out of bed.
“Hun, I’m so sorry.” Their voice was quieter this time. Your brows furrowed in confusion hearing their sudden apology. “I had no idea he was taken. I’m so sorry.”
Your blood ran cold. Biting your lip, you racked your brain for any possible explanation for what was going on. The heat behind your eyes from last night was coming back, and you could feel the pounding of your heart in your throat.
So he actually did it, huh?
“O-Oh.” The only thing you could mutter was a pitiful whimper.
“I’m so so sorry, hun. If I had known, I would’ve ripped him a new one right at the bar. I can’t imagine-”
“It’s not your fault.” Your voice was small, shaky. “You didn’t know. This is on him.”
“I… I know, but I just-”
“When he wakes up, can you tell him something for me?”
In any other circumstance, you would have felt guilty for interrupting so many times, but at the moment, you could barely even keep yourself standing. Your chest squeezed as your fingers dug into the phone.
“Yes, absolutely. Whatever you want.”
“Can you tell him to come home soon, please?”
“O-Of course. Yeah, I can do that.” Confusion was evident in their voice. They’d probably expected you to tell Bokuto that it was over, not ask for him to come home.
“Thank you.”
You hung up before they could even respond.
With a wobbly breath, you set your phone down on the bed and walked into the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was messy. Your eyes were swollen and red with bags lining the bottom lids. Your lips were slightly bleeding and looked as if they were chewed raw.
You couldn’t bring yourself to keep scrutinising as violent sobs rose from your throat. Gripping the bathroom counter for dear life, your teeth clenched in a poor attempt to keep your cries at bay. Tears dripped into the sink as you cried harder, the sounds of your lament echoing within the small room.
Once again, you forced yourself to hold in the rest of your tears, splashing cold water on your face as your mind drifted to your next course of actions.
You noticed your phone buzzing repeatedly when you walked back into the bedroom. Ignoring it, you set out to pack a few bags with some of your things despite not knowing where you’d be going after this. All you knew was that you needed to leave.
The buzzing of your phone didn’t stop as you were bombarded with notifications, all from the one person you wanted to talk to least in the world right now.
8 missed calls from “🦉my dovey💕”
Against your better interest, you unlocked your phone and opened the first voicemail.
“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry,” Bokuto’s voice was shaky as you heard the slam of a car door and the familiar rev of an engine in the background. “I fucked up. I know, baby. Just... I need you to call me back. Please, baby?”
After the tell-tale click signalling the end of the voicemail, you opened the second one.
“Baby, please! I’m so sorry for hurting you like this.” He sniffled. “I just need to know that you’re still at home, our home, baby. Please just call me and tell me that.”
The third one.
“Please, lovey, just tell me that you’re safe!” You noticed the faint sounds of the car running. “I’m on my way home right now. Okay, honey? Please be home, I’m begging you.”
The fourth.
“My lovey, my angel. I’m so sorry.” He seemed to choke on a sob. “You’re scaring me. I need to know that you’re okay. Just give me a call, a text, anything! I just need to know that you’re home.”
The bang of the front door opening stopped you from listening to the rest of Bokuto’s voicemails. You hadn’t noticed how hard your hands were shaking until you dropped your phone onto the mattress again. The tears rolling down your face only increased as you realised that you would have to face him.
“Baby?!” Bokuto’s panicked voice was hoarse — you could only imagine what happened for it to get that way. “Baby, please tell me you’re home! Please!”
You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, but it seemed to do nothing as you heard the rushed stomping of his footsteps nearing the bedroom.
Bokuto flung the door open and immediately pulled you into a tight embrace with a breath of relief. He smelled of day-old sweat, alcohol, and the faint scent of vanilla and citrus — a scent that neither you nor him used. It was suffocating.
“Thank God you’re still here, baby.” His rough, calloused hand stroked the back of your head. “I was so scared you were gone.” You felt something drip onto your head, and you realised that he was crying.
He only tightened his embrace when you tried to pull away. His whispers of “No, no, please. Please don’t leave,” squeezed your heart.
You pulled your arms out from between the two of you and brought your hands up to his face, wiping his tears away.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen,” he whispered against your hands. You closed your eyes for a second, unsuccessfully trying to ignore the light bruises decorating his neck as your heart ached.
“How long?” Staring into his eyes, you saw the glassiness from his tears returning. Bokuto shook his head — Don’t make me remember. Your breath hitched from the way he leaned in to try and kiss you. Moving your head, he landed a peck on your cheekbone instead. He let out a sharp whimper.
“How. Long?” you ground out between clenched teeth.
He bit his lip, looking everywhere but your face.
“It was just this one time, I promise,” he murmured, “I won’t make this mistake again, baby.” As he spoke, his arms tightened around you, as he nuzzled his head into the nape of your neck.
“I know you won’t, Kou,” your voice was quiet as you spoke, trying to break the news gently, “because I’m leaving.”
You felt the way his body stiffened, and then he pulled you impossibly closer as his heaving cries began to rack his body.
“No! Baby, p-please! I’m sorry, I said I’m s-sorry!” He shook his head repeatedly, his tears running down your shoulder. “You can’t leave me! You can’t!”
You bit your lip, trying not to cry at his whimpers.
“I’m sorry, Kou.” Reaching up, you ran your fingers through his messy hair.
“Is this because,” he held back a sob, “Is this because I said that I wanted space? Because I was lying, honey! I never wanted space from you! I was lying! Angel, please don’t leave me.”
You tried to pull away from him again, and this time, he let you. His mouth was curled down, and his eyes were red, still shedding tears.
“I don’t know if I can trust you anymore, Bokuto.” His breathing stopped, hearing that name escape your lips. He stood frozen, his eyes stared down into the floor as his tears dropped into little puddles below. With that, you took your bags and phone from the bed and walked toward the front door.
You made it into the living room before you heard his hurried stumbles behind you.
“NO! NO! YOU CAN’T CALL ME THAT!” he screamed. Skidding to a stop in front of you, he dropped to his knees, holding onto your waist in a death grip. “PLEASE! PLEASE, BABY!”
Snot was running down his reddened nose and mixed in with his tears. His eyes held a sort of agony that was heart-wrenching to stare into. You willed yourself to stay calm as your nose began to sting once again.
“I’m sorry, Bokuto, but I have to go-”
“NO!” He pulled your bags out of your hands and threw them to the side. Taking your hands, he placed them on his cheeks.
“Bokuto, what are you doing?!” You tried to pull away from him, but his grip wouldn’t let you. “I already told you, I’m leav-”
“Look at me!” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Look at me, please. It’s me. It’s your boy. I’m your boy. I’m your Koutarou.” His hands cupped your cheeks as his thumbs brushed away your tears. “And you’re my honey, my lovey, my angel. You’re my baby.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to respond — your face crumpled in pain, in heartbreak, in anguish as you thought back to what started this entire situation. Bokuto bit his lip; seeing you in so much pain because of him ripped him apart inside.
His lips parted again to continue.
“You’re my baby. I love you so so much. To the moon and back. I fucked up bad. I know, angel. But I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I promise you that.”
He stood up from his spot on the floor, still cupping your cheeks. A light kiss was placed on your lips as his forehead touched yours, both of your cheeks stained with tears.
“Just please don’t make me lose you like this.”
––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x reader#bokuto koutarou x reader#bokuto x reader#tw: cheating#tw: swearing#gn!reader
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