#and I feel like he'd understand how I feel even if our situations are different
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I'm so sorry if this sounds insensitive, please delete this if it does, but I loved your vent art you made. The one where you're hugging the orange dinosaur. It's been so long since I've seen you post any art and fuck it looks so good! But I know you made that when you were really hurting so I'm sorry if this comes out weird
OH thanks!! No it's not weird at all and I totally get what you're saying. Thank you for clarifying! I'm so glad you thought my art looks good, it's been so long since I've drawn anything... it's been 9 months actually!! I'm very pleased that my art style hasn't gotten too rusty after it had been forever since I'd picked up my tablet pen.
I was actually crying while drawing it, tears literally rolling down my tablet screen, yet at the same time I was thinking to myself while coloring "hoooo damn this SLAPS actually!!! 😩✊✨"
#anonymous#asks#Triceratops is a TF character but I have literally never drawn him before days ago#and he felt 'safe' to me (at the time) because... i dunno... he's not in many eps#and I never saw my ex-friend commission herself with him or even talk abt him#and I was trying to rewatch some rid episodes to try to reclaim my Saving Starlight AU#i looked at rid Starscream and thought oh he wants to beat me to a pulp. which. isn't good!#i used to think he'd miss me terribly and i used to feel SO comforted watching my saving starlight eps#and then Triceratops walked onto the screen and I was like. oh. this guy. this little dude. I need somebody to hold me and You're It#and I looked at that little orange beast and I was like 'YOU. COME CLOSER'#I still felt like he wouldn't love me or care about me at all but I drew it anyways#I'm so numb to all characters but I'm hoping with time that will change#I rly resonated with him bc in one episode he keeps saying how he doesn't trust anyone#because he's been so severely hurt. and betrayed. and deep down he's so scared.#and I feel like he'd understand how I feel even if our situations are different
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Good Omens S2 Episode 6 confession scene speculation:
Aziraphale didn't respond to the love confession from Crowley because he didn't realise it was one until Crowley mentioned the Nightingale and kissed him.
Allow me to explain.
---
Aziraphale interrupted Crowley to give him the news from Metatron, so when Crowley starts his spiel:
"We've been together a long time, I could always rely on you...we're a group....we've spent our existence pretending we aren't...if Gabriel and Beelzebub can go off together then we can...we don't need heaven/hell they're toxic...you and me whatya say?"
Aziraphale interprets everything Crowley is saying as his rebuttal to the 'good news', not a separate declaration of his feelings.
What Aziraphale just told him shaped Crowley's confession, instead of finally telling Aziraphale how he feels about him, he's now backed into a corner and trying to change Aziraphales mind. Offering to run off with him as the alternative to the Metatron's offer.
The repetition of the phrase: "go off together" from the bandstand fight in season one feels very intentional here. It would be easy for Aziraphale to think 'this is just Crowley's response when the divine plan interferes, he always wants to run away'.
Aziraphale believes that he just needs to make Crowley understand the situation and opportunity that this is and everything will be alright:
"Come with me! To heaven, I can run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference!"
Crowley is looking defeated already, in his mind he's bared his soul and Aziraphale is a brick wall. So if he can't tempt the angel into staying with the love he has for him (which Crowley thinks he's declared but he really hasn't), he'll get him to change his mind by evoking something else he loves:
"You can't leave this bookshop."
Aziraphale scoffs fondly. 'Silly demon, you were just suggesting we run off together and abandon it only a moment ago!' He thinks Crowley is trying to 'work' him here and the old serpent might even be selflessly trying to spare the angel the loss of his beloved bookshop in order to restore Crowley and help the world, which would be just like him to be so covertly protective. So Aziraphale reassures him, a bookshop doesn't matter to him as much as Crowley and the world. It's just a collection of objects really. Humanity is more important. Crowley is far more important.
"Oh Crowley, nothing lasts forever."
Crowley is crushed. Nothing lasts forever. Not even the two of them. So he covers his sadness with his glasses, walls back up, and he tries to leave.
Aziraphale is baffled. He just reassured Crowley that he was alright with change if it means things could be better. Why is Crowley leaving? Is he worried that they won't spend time together anymore? That he won't have time for his friend as a supreme archangel?
"Crowley come back!....we can be together, angels!...I need you!"
Crowley can't even look at him in that moment. Why would Aziraphale say that? The two of them together only if he accepts heaven again? Conditional love? That's not fair. It hurts.
Aziraphale meanwhile is hurt by Crowley's turning away, his silence and a bit incensed at what he perceives as ingratitude. Aziraphale didn't really want to go back to heaven, but he'd do it if it meant Crowley could be happy and safe and Crowley doesn't seem to appreciate that:
"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."
Crowley went through the fall. He asked the questions. Did his best to protect humanity and it has brought him nothing but suffering. He's well aware what's on offer. He's seen heavens cruelty and capriciousness firsthand and been burned by it repeatedly. How can Aziraphale choose them over him and still think everything will work out?
"I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do."
Crowley loves Aziraphale's big foolish optimism and kind heart and he thinks it's the very thing taking the angel away from him. This isn't how it was supposed to go. It's all slipping away from him.
"Listen. You hear that?"
Aziraphale can't even keep up at this point.
This is what comes of thousands of years of 'not talking about it' and living under threat of holy retribution if they are discovered. They're talking past each other, having two different conversations. Obfuscation and code has become their communication medium by necessity and it's failing them.
It's frustrating Aziraphale that he can't get a grip on this conversation:
"I don't hear anything!"
And Crowley drops the bomb.
"That's the point. No Nightingale's."
Oh. Suddenly we're on the same page. You can see from Aziraphale's face that he understands to what Crowley's referring. The Nightingale in Berkely square. Angels dining at the Ritz...
"You idiot! We could have been... us."
Crowley's talking about the big unspoken thing between them. Their relationship, thousands of years of dancing around each other like binary stars gravitationally and inexorably drawn together over and over. The thing Aziraphale was beginning to be bold about, (dancing notwithstanding) before Metatron came along and distracted him.
And it seems to Aziraphale that gut-wrenchingly, Crowley is finally acknowledging their mutual love only to point out that it's gone. Lost. They could have finally been together, an us, but Aziraphale ruined it because he's an 'idiot'.
After being quietly in love with Crowley for years, for Aziraphale to have his offer to return to heaven together and his unspoken love rejected in one fell swoop is devastating.
Overcome, he begins to cry and turns away, not wanting Crowley to see how hurt he is.
Crowley for his part is desperate. He has to do something. Maybe Aziraphale doesn't understand what Crowley is offering him! One fabulous kiss and va-voom right?
In a final desperate act, he kisses Aziraphale. Tries for passionate. Tries to show him that he loves him and show him what they could be because his words clearly aren't working.
Aziraphale is shocked and angry. He wants to kiss Crowley of course. But not like this. Not as a taunt. Crowley just told him their chance is over so what else could this be but a final insult. A kiss to punish the angel. It's a cruelty he didn't believe Crowley capable of.
And despite how mean it is. It's also what Aziraphale has wanted for so long he can't help but melt into it for a brief moment. Allow himself to feel what it would have been like to be that close before losing it forever.
Then Crowley lets go and Aziraphale breaks away on a sob, feeling wounded. Hurt beyond words that Crowley would use his feelings against him like this, gutted to be losing the man he loves and not understanding why.
The worst part is that Aziraphale doesn't have it in him to hate Crowley, even if he thinks the kiss was a cruel gesture. He still loves him. So he gathers himself and does what Aziraphale does when someone hurts him.
He forgives.
"I forgive you."
I forgive you for rejecting my attempt to restore you and make you happy, I forgive you for rejecting God and heaven yet again, I forgive you for acknowledging our love and then rejecting it. I forgive you for kissing me, giving me a fleeting glimpse of what we could have been to each other. I love you and I forgive you all that.
Crowley is done. Breath knocked out of him on a last sigh. He tried. And the Angel forgave him yet again for something he never asked or wanted forgiveness for. He doesn't want to be penitent for loving Aziraphale. Shouldn't have to apologise or regret wanting them to be together.
"Don't bother."
Aziraphale looks surprised Crowley is leaving because he genuinely is. He can't understand how it's all gone so horribly wrong. He gasps, shocked and can't even call out to him to stop, come back.
He cries, touches his lips where Crowley had kissed him. Tries to gather himself and barely has 10 seconds before Metatron is back.
At the end of that scene:
Crowley thinks he confessed his love and Aziraphale chose heaven over him because he didn't want to stop being a demon.
Aziraphale thinks Crowley rejected heaven, then rejected Aziraphale and threw their love back in his face as a final unkindness.
Aziraphale leaves and goes to heaven anyway because in his mind he's already lost Crowley and there is nothing left to stay for. If he doesn't have Crowley he needs a new purpose and it's going to be saving the world. He'll convince himself of it. And he'll push that broken heart down and the pain will fade if he just smiles through it. It will be enough, to make heaven better. It has to be. Maybe if he proves that he can make a difference Crowley might see the error of his ways and speak to him again? Surely. Hopefully.
---
Both of them are hurt and confused and lost and oh dear hell I really feel for them.
#good omens meta#good omens 2 meta#good omens s2e6#gos2 spoilers#good omens 2#good omens 2 analysis#gos2 meta#ineffable#ineffable husbands#aziraphale#crowley#good omens spoilers#gos2
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⇝ shadow .
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.
PART TWO OF MÉNAGE.
SUMMARY: All Simon wants is to explain his disappearance to you, but he can't really expect you to be willing to listen.
WARNINGS: AFAB!Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N!), Mentions of NSFW, Angst, Pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications, Soft!Dad!Simon.
A/N: Second chapter!! Almost exactly a week after the first one LMAO. No smut in this one, I'm afraid, but some very fluffy moments between Simon and Tommy! <333 Once again, please reblog and comment if you enjoy this, it helps a lot!!!
WORD COUNT: 10k.
MASTERLIST.
Also on Ao3!
You were pretty sure your fingers were about to snap.
The grip you had on the door could rival that of a professional arm wrestler, your whole body stiff and frozen in place as your gaze locked onto Simon's.
Was it even Simon? His eyes didn't hold the same warmth it had the last time you'd seen him, his body wasn't as relaxed as it had felt beneath your touch, his whole frame covered in dark clothing that left his eyes as the only source of light that shone through that shadow of a man.
Well, you couldn't even consider them that, his blue orbs lacked that speck of light you'd grown accustomed to seeing in your son's; it left him looking like a ghost, a shell of a man. But maybe that was appropriate, he never did look like the kind of bloke you'd expect to be kind or sweet, he suited more the idea of a cold, ruthless man that had abandoned you and your son.
Even after having spent a night in his arms, felt the touch of his lips on your skin, memorised the feeling of his cock inside of you; he was still a stranger to you, a man you had idolised so much during the first days after your encounter that he had begun to form into someone completely different in your mind.
And now that he was in front of you, you knew. This wasn't the Simon from your dreams that held you in his arms, the Simon from your dreams that pressed kisses to your swollen belly whenever the baby would kick, the Simon from your dreams that hadn't left.
It was like a slap in the face.
One that brought you back to reality, that flushed away any daydream or idealised version you had of him from your mind, and forced you to focus on the man standing in front of you.
"You-"
"Did you keep it?"
As if you'd been sucker punched right in the gut, you felt the air leave your lungs, the words you had intended to speak sitting on the tip of your tongue like the bitter taste of black tea.
"It? Wh-"
"Him. Our son."
Our son.
It was funny, how he'd managed to say the two simple words that immediately made your blood boil in rage, tears forming at the corner of your eyes out of frustration as.
"Oh, so he's our son now?" You willed yourself to keep calm, but you couldn't help how your voice wavered when you spoke, this whole situation baring to be too much to handle along with your already declining mental state. "You didn't seem very interested before."
"I was gone."
"Oh, trust me, I know." You snarled, your harsh tone causing him to look away from you, whether it was in shock or fear, you didn't care. At least you couldn't feel small beneath his stare if he wasn't looking. "How long has it fucking been, Simon? A year. 9 months carrying your child and 3 months raising him. You have no fucking right to come knocking now and asking to see him."
"You don't understa-"
"I don't need to fucking understand, Simon!" You cried out, your voice ringing down the hall and in Ghost's ears, "I was alone! I am alone! I went through a terrifying pregnancy on my own because you couldn't bother to pick up the goddamn phone! Where were you when I needed you!? Where were you when the doctor told me that the birth might leave irreparable damage on my body!? Where were you when I almost lost him!?"
Silence filled the building, dull ringing in Ghost's ears from how loud you'd shouted, his gaze shifting up from the floor to you, his heart skipping a beat at your dishevelled state, your flushed face and tear stained cheeks, the hand that had been resting on the door now clenching your shirt right above your heart, as if the simple act of talking to him pained you to no end.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Simon. Sorry doesn't make up for this past year, for all the fucking pain I went through while you were, what, ignoring me the whole time!? Waiting until an 'acceptable' time to show up and fucking demand to see him!?"
"I'm not demanding." You flinched as one of his hands came to slam onto the top of the door that separated the both of you, his hand clenching around the wood hard enough to break it, and you knew that if he wanted to, he could. "I'm asking. I'm asking to see him, for you to let me explain why I was gone."
Your lower lip quivered at the way he spoke, so calm and composed compared to you, who'd let your emotions take control of your words and had just
"I don't know what you went through. I don't think I'll ever be able to understand. And.. I'm, I'm sorry, that you were forced to go through it alone," The apology that slipped through his lips sounded almost forced, like it was his first time hearing and speaking the words out of his mouth. "I'm not here just to see him. I'm here because you deserve an explanation on why I wasn't here. And I know it won't take away the pain, but I ho-"
The door slammed shut.
Ghost was left outside of your apartment, hand still testing on the flimsy wood of your door, staring at the point where your eyes had been mere seconds ago.
You'd closed the door on him.
You'd ripped any chances he'd had of seeing his son and explaining himself to you in half.
He'd gone through his speech for hours in the car, making sure that he wouldn't come off as rude or mean to you, that everything was explained slowly and coherently, but you'd just… Closed the door on him.
It was a funny sight, really. A giant of a man standing in the corridor of a beat down building in the middle of Manchester, outwardly looking like a kicked puppy if it weren't for the fire that was burning inside of him, bubbling beneath his skin as he got the urge to rip the whole fucking door off just so would fucking listen to-
The door opened again, properly, this time. No little gap where he could barely see your full body, where you were able to hide from him in fear that he'd do something disastrous like he'd just been thinking of.
You were letting him in.
That much was obvious, by the way your shaking frame was glued to the wall of the small corridor, allowing him space to cross through into the apartment he'd spent the night in a year ago.
No words had to be spoken, the reluctant look on your face telling him more than enough.
The few steps he took to enter your apartment felt like crossing a border to another world, one that he couldn't recognise as much as he tried to think back to the last time he'd been there.
Everything had changed. The wallpaper with the flowers that reminded him of his grandma's old home had been striped, replaced with a more cool paint over; the dingy sofa where he'd ripped your tights open was replaced with a much more softer and plush looking model, one that could no doubt be pulled into a bed; the bookshelf he'd gotten the sticky notes from had been ridden of many of the books that had littered it, replaced with children's books and a few pictures, baby toys strewn across the floor in front of it.
It felt like a whole different place than what he remembered. He didn't know what he had expected, for you to have a child and for nothing to change? He was aware of the chaos that a child brought, remembering how annoyed he himself had been as everything started to change around him when his brother had been born, the need it brought to rearrange the whole house to accommodate the baby and not have any dangerous items lying around.
Ghost made a mental note to himself as he picked up one of the picture frames from next to the small telly to clean up his own house before bringing his son there (if he was even allowed to), recalling the dust and grime that covered the corners of his rooms, the glass shards from the last time he'd drunk and passed out on the sofa littering his floors.
You pushed the door closed behind you both, shaky hands pressing onto the cool wood in an attempt to ground yourself, trying not to focus on the silent yet imposing footsteps of your son's father.
You don't know what possessed you to open the door, to let him into your space, that he'd now taken over like a shadow. He looked so… out of place.
A demon along the angels, a ghost along the living.
His dark clothes contrasted heavily with the bright colours of your son's toys that laid strewn across the floor, with the soft colours your walls were painted in, with the colourful blankets that you'd tried spicing up the sofa with, despite no one being able to appreciate them other than you.
It didn't feel right.
It didn't feel right to have him here, walking around your home like he belonged there, like he'd been there all along. It was wrong.
You felt like you couldn't breathe, like your throat was closing off and preventing any air from reaching your lungs properly. Your nails dug into your own palms as you clenched your hands closed, trying your best to even out your breathing and focus on anything but the impending conversation you'd have to have with him.
You could hear him say something, but your brain was so caught up with trying to stop yourself from spiralling that it didn't even comprehend what he was saying. The balaclava over his face was moving, indicating that he was speaking, but not a single sound was reaching your ears.
Your body was trembling at this point, mouth gasping for air as your throat continued to constrict, your eyes going blurry with tears as you watched him come closer to you, mouth still moving.
"Breathe." Two hard hands grabbed onto your shoulders, shaking you out of your stupor bordering on what you could easily identify as a panic attack, ones that you'd been prone to ever since you gave birth. "Look at me. Breathe."
Simon immediately knew what was happening without even having to look at you.
The laboured breaths that were leaving you were enough to activate the alarms in his head, recognising them immediately. He'd heard them many times before coming from him, his teammates, the people whose heads were pressed against his gun. You were spiralling, falling into the harming grasp of your anxiety and letting it infect your body.
When he got a panic attack, Simon rode through it. The therapist that Price had assigned him a few years ago had advised him to consider doing breathing exercises whenever he showed signs of having one, but during the year he'd seen her and the years to come, not once had he considered doing them. Sometimes, he felt like he deserved to feel like that, like he was suffocating, like his heart was about to be ripped out; for all the pain and suffering he'd inflicted on others, he deserved to feel at least a sliver of it.
But the thought of letting you experience that same pain, the same panic, the same hopelessness he felt whenever he'd cave into his depression, it wasn't a good one.
So despite his initial lack of remembrance of the exercises his therapist had offered, he tried his best to talk you through it, hands grasping at your shoulders and squeezing every time he saw you start to slip away back into that pit of anxiety, keeping his eyes on yours through the whole thing, not letting you go until you'd stopped shaking and your breath had become even once again.
You'd been so focused on the anxiety coursing through your veins that you hadn't even realised who was helping you through it, blindlessly following orders and breathing along with him, your brain subconsciously recognising his voice as something to cling onto, to pull you out of your own plunging thoughts.
But as soon as you realised whose eyes you were gazing into, whose hands were holding you down, you panicked again. Your own hands came up to push him away, the action catching him off guard and making him take a few small steps back from you, eyes still fixed on yours.
"Are y-"
"Shut up." You breathed out, interrupting him for what seemed like the 100th time that night, mimicking him and taking a few steps away from him and wrapping your arms over your upper body. "Sit."
Ghost finally tore his stare away from you to look down at the sofa, hesitantly taking the first steps forward like a cat meeting its owner for the first time before finally taking a seat on the sofa, sinking into the plush pillows thanks to his weight and looking around from the new perspective.
"Do you normally have panic attacks?" He spoke up, thankful that you didn't interrupt him this time, voicing his concern.
You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down at your fuzzy socks as you thought back to all the times you'd had to go through them on your own sitting at the doctor's office, lying in bed after putting Tommy to sleep, looking at yourself in the mirror after your labour…
Your doctor had warned you about the rollercoaster of emotions your body would go through after giving birth, including the depression many women suffered that unfortunately had affected you too during the first few weeks; but you hadn't expected it to continue until this late.
"...sometimes." You mumbled, hands running up and down your arms as you squirmed beneath his glare. "It's normal. For a lot of women."
He didn't answer, nodding in response instead before turning his head to the side table, where a small picture of a very tiny Tommy sat, his hand itching towards it to take it in properly.
The silence that followed what you could barely call a conversation was unbearable. The tension that hung in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, the silence almost suffocating you as you tried to muster up the courage to speak up if he wasn't going to, despite him having almost broken down your door in order to talk.
"...so? Are you going to explain?"
Simon stayed quiet, the whole speech he'd rehearsed back in his car suddenly fizzing away from his mind like a shooting star in the night sky. He was left with barely an outline of what he wanted to say, a vague idea of everything he'd tried his best to put into words before seeing you.
But actually having you in front of him, sitting on the same sofa he'd once pressed you against, gazing into the eyes he'd once thought so much about before the start of that god awful mission, made every last thread of sanity that remained in him snapped.
He was sure that without the mask he'd look like a fool, mouth slightly open and half lidded slate blue eyes fluttering with every blink, transfixed by the vision that was you, in front of him.
"Look, if you're not even going to fucking talk, you can just go right back out the fu-"
"I can't tell you exactly what happened." You stopped mid-rant, cheeks burning in embarrassment after being the one who was interrupted this time. "My job doesn't allow it."
His job? Was he really blaming everything on his job? What kind of goddamn profession forced you to go radio silent for a whole year?
"What do you work in?"
"..." Simon regarded you with a poignant sheen in his eyes, clearly at odds with deciding what to say, the truth or what he had been taught to recite in a situation like this. "I protect."
Even if he didn't outright say what his vocation was, you could do more than assume.
Protection could mean many things, like working at one of those security alarm companies to working as a bodyguard for some fancy rich guy, but with one look at the man sitting in front of you, you could tell.
And it was terrifying.
You'd assumed he was some type of bodybuilder when you'd first saw him, but as you recalled his tactical steps as he walked you down the street, the way his hand flew to his belt when you'd pass some creepy looking guy, as if he was expecting something to be hanging from there, it all started to click.
You had two options before you. He was either a fucking mercenary or military. And although both options were terrifying on their own, you hoped to whatever god that was looking down on you that it was the latter. You wouldn't know what you'd do with yourself if the father of your sweet baby boy was some type of criminal.
"You protect?" You let out, careful with your words in case you said something that you shouldn't, terrified with the prospect of him getting annoyed or angry now that you had an idea of what he did for a living.
"I protect." He parroted, lifting his hand to shove it into one of the pockets that adorned his jacket, pulling out a slim laminated piece of paper, what you could only assume was some sort of identification. "Here."
You took it hesitantly, flipping it over to scan your eyes over the confusing words that lettered the ID, mostly all words you'd never heard before in your life, but you were smart enough to grasp the concept of it.
"You work in the army?" You question, finger running over his title, repeating his newly discovered last name in your head, cursing at yourself for even thinking of how normal it would sound led by your son's name.
"SAS. Lieutenant. Can't say more than that." His gloved hand came back up to hopefully grab his ID back, but you dodged him, taking a few steps back and flipping it back over so he could see what you were pointing at.
"There's no picture." You finally referred to the black space that filled what was supposed to be a headshot of whichever soldier's ID it was. "How… how do I know this is real?"
You watched the mask move as he furrowed his eyebrows, the hand that had fallen onto his knee now gripped at the cargo pants, his eyes showing the disbelief that shot through his body.
"Y'think I made a fuckin' fake ID?" He grunted out, lifting himself from his spot on the sofa and glowering down at you, who did your best to not stand down almost immediately out of fear of his massive frame. "I don't carry 'round a picture of my face, defeats the whole purpose of my fuckin' mask."
You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried coming up with some type of rebuttal that would shut him right up, but you ended up once again asking another desperate question.
"That doesn't explain why you were gone."
Silence.
The crickets that sang from downstairs, the sound of the creaking from upstairs with every step one of your neighbours took, the suddenly suffocating feeling of your tiny apartment, everything seemed to increase ten fold with every second that passed.
"I can't tell you much." He leaned his head back, twisting his neck to a side to reveal some of the hair that had grown down to below his chin after a year of not properly shaving, making you look away from what almost seemed like an invasion of privacy.
"Oh, fuck you." You let out an amused scoff, unbelieving that still after everything that had happened in the short amount of time he'd been back, he still refused to say anything. "Go to hell, Simon."
"I was on a fuckin' mission. A long one. I wasn't allowed any devices, like always, so I couldn't get back to you." He looked back at you with a glare that easily rivalled yours, voice rising in volume with each word he spoke, clearly pissed off at how you were acting with him despite having tried to explain himself, but deep down he knew that it was expected from you after what you'd gone through, yet he still couldn't help but feel disappointed deep down.
"Don't raise your fucking voice at me, I'm not the one who's at blame here, Simon!" You shoved a finger into his stiff chest, doing barely as much 'damage' as you pretended to, but you did your best to get your point across.
"I'm not raising my vo-"
A high pitched cry cut through both of your raising voices, Simon's hand immediately going to his belt out of instinct while you whipped your head in the direction of Tommy's room, wincing in both fatigue and shame for having forgotten about your poor, sensitive to noises baby boy.
You put a finger up before Simon could even get the idea of heading there first, an authoritative glare on your face as you grew 10 times braver now that it came to your son's mood and well-being.
"Stay." You hissed, almost like you were reprimanding a mutt instead of a grown man. "Don't fucking follow me."
Once you were sure you'd gotten the message across, you pulled yourself away from his gaze and quickly entered your son's nursery, cooing and shushing at him as you neared his crib.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, duck, I'm sorry." You whispered, carefully picking up his fidgeting body in your arms and pressing him to your chest, rocking him as gently as you could in your told. "Mommy's sorry, she didn't mean to scare you."
His crying didn't cease, only getting louder as you desperately tried to get him to quiet down, terrified of the racket he was no doubt making for the next door neighbours, who'd probably come by tomorrow with some not very nice words.
Your hands were shaking as he still didn't calm down, a shiver running up your spine while goosebumps racked your body as you saw the light that came from the living room be blocked by a large mass of what you could only assume was Simon.
"I told you not to follow." You kept your voice small as he took slow steps towards you, not wanting to agitate Tommy even more than he already was, knowing how enervated you'd be in the morning if that was the case.
"I want to see him."
You bit down on your tongue before you shot out a snappy response, realising that this was not the time nor the place for snarky comments, as much as you wanted Simon to finally get a hint and leave you both alone.
"You haven't even told me his name."
Screwing your eyes closed, you pressed Tommy to your chest a bit tighter, both to calm the two of you down and in an attempt of caging him away from the shadow of a man towering behind you.
"You never asked for it." You felt him stop behind you as you spoke, his eyes staring holes into the back of your head, as if that would finally get you to move so he could see his son.
He stayed silent once again, looking over every single detail in the nursery, from the row of knitted stuffed animals to the plastic fluorescent stars stuck to the ceiling above the crib, eyes trailing over the bookcase that looked a bit too unstable for his liking, the screws too loose to be holding up all that weight properly.
"Did you build these yourself?" Simon watched you turn your head over your shoulder to see what he was referring to, glowering at him crossly as you looked over the furniture.
"Didn't have anyone else to do it, did I?" You snapped, going back to the crying baby in your arms as he continued to look around, gloved fingers running over some of the spines of the books that laid on the shelves, recognising some of them from his own childhood bookshelf.
"You still don't believe me, d'you?"
A beat.
The finalising sound of his footsteps exiting the room made a weight you hadn't realised was pressing on your chest dissipate out of relief, only to come back heavier than ever as he pushed the duffle bag he'd been carrying towards you with his foot.
You looked down at the spilling contents tentatively, almost worried that there was some type of danger in there that would force you to take cover or cower in a corner, but all you found were military pants and clothes, a gun hidden in its holster, and in the hand that slowly appeared in the corner of your vision, dog tags.
"Look." He brought them up closer to your face so you'd be able to see even in the dim lighting that came from the fluorescent stars stuck on the ceiling and the small nightlight, the name engraved in it identical to the one you'd found on the ID. And although most IDs were pretty easy to fake, you were pretty sure dog tags like these weren't. They had the SAS' inscription on them along with a few codes and numbers you were too ignorant about the army to understand; but for all you knew, they could be as fake as the ones some men wore as fashion.
Maybe that still wouldn't have been enough, if it weren't for the gun. England was very strict with gun laws, and the only people you'd ever seen handle one were the police and the military. So he'd either gotten one very illegally or was truly who he said he was.
And as much as you wanted it to all be fake, for him to be the random bloke you'd had sex with that had no connections to anything dangerous, you knew it wasn't. It was blatantly obvious now that he'd laid down everything in front of you like a puzzle, he was telling the truth.
And god, how much you hated it. You hated that the so-called excuse he'd used before was close to being set in stone by now, that everything was falling into place.
"They're real. I promise."
His promises meant nothing to you, and he knew that, but he had to try anything he could for you to finally believe him, to pull down the walls you'd built and let him in.
"..." You looked away from him and his outstretched hand, pulling your still weeping baby closer to you as you debated on what to do, mind torn between two headspaces.
A shaky sight left your lips as he finally started to tone down, his small pudgy hands grabbing at your sweater in an attempt to ground himself, to find a smell and feel he knew brought safety.
"...his name's Tommy."
You felt him freeze behind you, the aura around him growing cold almost immediately, like you'd just blatantly insulted him without any remorse.
"Tommy." He echoed, voice scratchy as if he was dying of thirst, body suddenly feeling like it had been dunked under tiding waves. "Why?"
"Why?" It was your turn to repeat what he'd said, turning around fully and allowing him the first proper look at his infant son.
Any feeling of displeasure or uncomfort left Simon's body as his eyes landed on the small boy whose teary eyes were trained on his mother's, soft hands clinging onto her like all hell would break loose if he weren't, pudgy body wrapped up in soft blanket decorated with a tiny duck print, the animal something he'd heard you refer to him as before.
God, he wasn't even listening anymore, too enamoured with the small being that lied in your arms, his hands itching towards him in hopes of taking him in his own.
His stomach sank as you stepped back in tandem with him, shielding Tommy from him like he was a monster.
"I, uhm…" you looked up at him through glassy eyes, clearly having been taken aback by his sudden advance towards you both, ending with you pressed against the wooden crib's side. "I didn't really think about it. It just… felt right. It sounded nice. There isn't really any… meaning behind it, as far as I know."
And that was true, as far as you knew, Tommy was just one of the names you'd underlined in one of the many baby name books your mother had brought over with her. But for Simon, it was oh so much more than that. It brought back memories that he hadn't thought about in a very long time, including those rough times he'd spent cooped up in that godforsaken house trying his best to take care of the only family he had left.
And although he hadn't heard from his brother in a long while, he couldn't help but feel slightly hollow at the simple thought of him, who now unknowingly shared his name with his new nephew.
"...right." Despite everything that was whirling around in his brain, every single memory and doubt he wished he could share without destroying himself inside out, that single word of confirmation was the only thing he could get out.
Tommy let out a whine, small hand tugging at your shirt as he instantly pulled your attention back to him, small body fidgeting in your hold in a way that would make you drop him if you weren't used to his urge to not stay still.
"Yeah, I get it, duck." You said, balancing him carefully in the crook of one of your arms before picking up the half-empty bottle you'd placed next to the crib, knowing he'd wake up within the little time the milk could sit out and demand to be fed with his startling cries. "It's here, don't worry. You're not going to starve."
Simon watched from the shadows as your son immediately latched on to the bottle, acting like he'd been starved for over a week, when his last feeding session had been barely an hour ago.
"He's very greedy." You mumbled, mostly to yourself, but looked up at Simon as he let out a humoured exhale.
"Most babies are." He said, remembering how needy his own little brother was when it came to feeding, whining and screaming until everyone in the house had woken up.
Silence fell upon the room, the only conceivable sound in the house being the sound of Tommy drinking and the soft jingle of the crib mobile whenever a soft gust of wind came through the parted window.
For the first time in the hour Simon had been back in your life, you felt calm. Your heartbeat had come down to a normal rate, your body had stopped jolting and shaking every now and then, and there was a small smile tugging at your lips as you watched your son cling to the bottle in your hands.
Even Simon's presence had stopped putting you on edge, since now he was just silently gazing down at his son, who's eyes were fixed back on his father's, almost like they were both having a staring contest, and it was unclear who was about to win.
Tommy normally bursted into tears when he was near a stranger, too many new scents and sounds around him since he was used to the calmer and soother environment that was his nursery, so apart from the short strolls you'd take down the streets, he barely went out with you, and when he did, he didn't get to met many new people. You remember how embarrassed you'd been when one of your neighbours had come by to help with fixing a light and Tommy had started bawling at the mere sight of the unfamiliar man standing in the doorway.
So it was a bittersweet surprise when you realised he must've taken an instinctual liking to his father, despite not properly having the brain capacity to regard him as such, and although you'd have plenty of time to go over that later, for now, you were relieved that he hadn't turned to wailing as loud as he could and bursting all three of your eardrums (although if Simon did work in what he said he did, you were sure he'd be used to loud noises by now).
"How d'you pay for all this?"
"What?" You said, the calm expression that had graced your face quickly forming back into the pissed one he'd gotten so used to seeing in the past hour, the innocent yet aggravating question instantly spoiling your mood. "What do you fu- what do you mean?"
"The furniture, the clothes, the nappies." He nodded towards every single thing he listed, only adding onto your annoyance even more. "Where d'you work?"
You snapped your head down to Tommy in order to avoid his damaging questions, meeting the cute scene of your son fast asleep, probably having passed out after such a long staring contest with his dad and finally having a full belly. You ignored the weight of your impending answer as you placed him down carefully back into his crib, letting his chubby cling onto your fingers for a bit before slowly wrenching his grip off, turning back around to his father.
"I don't work. Not anymore." You kept your voice hushed, picking up the empty baby bottle along with a bag of dirty nappies, standing next to the doorway until he got the memo to walk out before you. "Got fired from the bar cause I was too distracted and I messed a lot of things up…. Had to use my savings to pay for everything during my pregnancy."
He watched you walk around the kitchen and put everything away like it was routine, like it was some sort of art that you'd perfected, while thinking over the information he'd just received from you.
He felt horrible. The mere thought of you, pregnant and alone with no job able to support you, working on the crib and nursery on your own was enough to tear his cold heart in two. And he didn't even want to think about how much money you had left, which by the sight of the very expensive-looking cot and all the toys that laid strewn across the bedroom floor, wasn't much.
He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back onto one of the walls and thought about the next words that were going to leave his mouth, the next words that would either end up with you both growing closer together or you continuing to push him away.
"Let me help you."
You stopped dead in your tracks while rearranging one of the cupboards, turning around with a look of disbelief painted on your face, beyond bewildered at what he was even starting to proffer.
"Help me?"
Simon had more money than he knew what to do with. Albeit, a small part of it was sent to his brother and his family at the end of every few months, he was still left with a huge amount of money he didn't really know what to spend it on apart from on the bottles of alcohol that littered the floor of his apartment.
But now that he'd learned about his own family, seen the state your flat was in despite you trying to save face by decorating it as much as you could, about as much information as you had given out about your financial situation, he finally knew what to do with all that money that was left over.
"Help you. Financially. Tommy's my son too." Simon raised a gloved hand up as he watched your mouth open, immediately shutting you up like a teacher would a student. "As much as you want to deny it, s'true. And I'm going to help you." His finger landed on the small island counter, accentuating his point with every word he spoke. "Whether you like it or not."
Now, you'd be bellow stupid to even refuse an offer like this (even though he'd made it quite clear it wasn't an offer, more like an insistence), especially since your bank account was quickly reaching negative numbers with every day that passed, not a lot of jobs being open to a new mother who'd either have to take her baby everywhere or leave between shifts to take care of him (and a nanny was of course out of the question, with what money would you pay them?); and pushing aside your still initial distrust towards him, you couldn't say no to him. Both, because he wouldn't let you and because you needed the help, as much as you didn't want to admit it.
Very deep down, you wanted to say no, to push him out of the flat like you should've done when he had first taken a step inside, that he'd had his chance with both Tommy and you and that his bloody stupid excuses weren't going to work… but god, would you have been a moron to even consider letting those words leave your mouth.
You closed the cabinet shut, turning around to face him properly despite the absolute nerves that were coursing through your body, looking out the window across from you instead of at the imposing figure of the man standing before you.
"Simon, I… Look, just…." You tried changing subject, grasping at straws in order to keep yourself from falling to your knees and thanking him for helping you, to break down again like you'd done within the first quarter hour of seeing him again. "...thank you."
He didn't reply, only nodding in response as he turned away from you, letting you stare at his back as he cocked his head to a side to subtly look into Tommy's room, your small baby boy still fast asleep with his clingy hands holding onto one of the many toys you'd placed in there for him to stay entertained with.
"It's, uhm… it's getting quite late." You pointed out as you looked back out the window, rain pattering against your window as another one of England's classic showers hit your city, your arms wrapping around your torso and running your hands up and down the exposed skin. "How about we just… call it a day and talk about it tomorrow?"
Simon grunted, shrugging his shoulders like he really didn't care, but before you had chance to comment on it, he spoke over his shoulder, his head tilted in a way that the shadows curved around the balaclava covering up his face, his blue eyes slightly brighter than when he'd first shown up.
"I've got some stuff to attend to tomorrow." He muttered, nodding towards the duffle bag that he'd brought out with him when you'd both left the nursery, indicating that he wasn't fully finished with work. "It'll be a while 'till I'm able to just sit down with you."
God, you hated how much fear that single sentence struck in you. Like almost the thought of him leaving for more than a day after finally showing up and explaining everything to you was enough to raise up the anxiety that wrapped around your chest and travelled across every single nerve in your system.
So fucking pathetic. You thought to yourself before looking over at the sofa, the new one you'd bough and arranged yourself a few months into your pregnancy, when you were barely showing and could still handle physical work like that; remembering how much the salesman had insisted on that the pullout was the best option for when you had guests over, it was moderately comfy and big enough to fit up to two people.
And Simon kind of… He kind of counted for two people, right? With that bloody stature of his and his darned accentuated muscles you'd been so in awe of that fateful night.
"You can just take the sofa for tonight. Then we can talk in the morning before you leave." Your mouth acted faster than your brain did, but this time, you didn't really feel embarrassed or disappointed in yourself, I mean, it was the logical solution to this sort of problem. He'd made it quite clear that he wanted to be in his son's life, so if that was true, you'd have to get used to him being around you, invading the safe space you'd worked so hard to create for you and your son, as much as it tore your body and mind apart thanks to your mixed feelings about him.
"You sure?" He pushed himself off the doorframe which he'd been leaning on, getting back to his full height so he could tower over you, glancing at the tiny sofa. "You think I'll fit?"
"It pulls out." Unlike you. "You'll fit."
Once again, it seemed that he couldn't even get the words out to thank you, nodding in response before turning back to look at his sleeping son in the nursery's background. You pushed past him to get to the cupboard that sat in the corner, rummaging through it for some relatively clean and warm blankets, keeping an ear out just in case decided to walk a bit too close to Tommy, still a bit on edge when it came to him spending time around your son.
"D'you have a balcony I can use?" He cut through the silence, dangling a packet of cigarettes in front of your face to make his advances clear.
Although you weren't a chronic smoker yourself, you had indulged in a cig once in a while, and you knew that it sometimes did help soothe your anxiety or stress, and by the looks of how Simon was fidgeting in his spot and his fingers were clearly itching towards the lighter in his pocket, it was quite clear he was in need of one.
"I don't. Use the window furthest from Tommy's room." You pointed out of the room towards the window you'd been staring out of before. You watched him stroll out, opening up the window and letting in a gust of cold wind in the process, making you speed up your work so you could close the door faster and Tommy wouldn't get a chill.
"You can't smoke around Tommy, you know that, right? If you're really going to be in his life, I'm going to need you to quit while you're here." You commented as you placed down the blankets onto an armchair before moving onto the sofa bed itself, removing some of the cushions before resuming.
"'lright." He muttered between a few inhales of the smoke, his voice much clearer now that he'd pulled his mask up to his nose, letting you gaze upon the beard that had grown over his lower face, something that hadn't been there before. But you assumed that a year-long mission wouldn't really allow you to take time to shave. "Jus' really needed this."
"I get it." You grunted as you grabbed onto the flimsy handle at the bottom and pulled out the second part of the sofa's mattress, almost landing on your behind if it weren't for one of Simon's hands on the small of your back, helping you regain your balance before he went back to taking puffs of his cigarette next to the window.
Soon enough, Simon's cigarette burnt down to a stub, flicking it out the window and down onto the concrete below, turning back around to where you were finishing up what would be his bed tonight, tucking in some of the ends of the sheets and stuffing pillows into covers.
"Here." He spoke, his voice back to being muffled as he pulled the mask back down, taking the pillow from your hands and pushing it into the cover without any effort.
"Pillows might be a bit stiff. These are really old." You didn't even bother thanking him, taking the pillows and fluffing them up to the best of your ability, before propping them up on the armrest. "Do you want to, uhm." You gestured towards the black smudged paint around his eyes. "Clean up?"
"It's fine. I've slept worse."
He started to pull off his jacket, his shirt going with it for a moment and exposing his midriff and happy trail, immediately snapping your head away from the sight.
That's how Simon ended lying on the pretty well made sofa, shoes and jacket discarded next to him with a thin blanket draped over his tired body, balaclava still resting over his face despite being plunged in the darkness that was broken whenever a car passed by outside or by the soft glow of his son's fluorescent stars that decorated his ceiling.
Simon was aware of how long he'd gone without having a good night's sleep, that he should at least try to catch a few minutes of sleep at best, but he couldn't find the energy to even close his eyes. He knew that after such a long and exciting mission his body had to come down from it slowly, taking a few days of getting used to the sudden serenity that enveloped him before he could fully relax and find some sleep.
And so he lied there, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and listening to the snores that came from his son's room and the shuffling and incoherent murmurs that came from yours, the constant affirmation that you both were fine enough of a substitute for the sleep he was missing.
And he was… content like that, for a while. Listening to the both of you sleep and tapping his fingers against his chest in an attempt to ground himself and to shove away any unwanted thoughts that would forcibly make their way into his already broken mind.
Until one of the cars outside backfired, a sound Simon had gotten used to after driving all those barely working cars they'd find in the way during missions, producing a sound that echoed throughout the living room, making Simon instinctively flinch, his fingers gripping down on the blanket hard enough to rip it, not having expected to hear a sound so akin to a bomb or a grenade while he was lying down calmly near his newfound family.
Fuck, he was pathetic. It was horrible how such an innocent sound made his instincts go haywire, his skin prickle with goosebumps and his heart skip a beat.
But clearly, as Tommy's cries rang out through the flat, he hadn't been the only one to be disturbed.
"Fuck." The blanket pooled down onto the floor next to his discarded clothes, pushing himself off the sofa and passing by your bedroom, where you were still presumably sleeping, your body wriggling beneath the covers as your brain attempted to keep you asleep.
You'd mentioned that Tommy had gone down easily this time, so it was relatively early for yourself to go to bed, and he'd heard you mutter to yourself as you climbed into bed that you were going to enjoy your rest, so staying on the sofa and waiting for you to wake up, was not going to happen, especially after all the trouble he'd gone through with convincing you to let him in Tommy's life.
This was part of being a father, a parent, waking up at ungodly hours of the night to take care of your fussing baby.
He carefully made his way towards Tommy's crib, removing his gloves in order to not scare him with an unknown touch, although he doubted that his calloused fingers would be any better substitute.
"S'alright." He murmured, a finger softly prodding at his chubby belly in order to catch his attention, the boy's wails only getting louder as he caught sight of his father's skulled balaclava. "Oh, fu- Look, hey, look at me."
Without any hesitation, Simon ripped off his mask, his hair getting messed up in the process but he couldn't care less, only focused on getting his son to recognise him as a human man and not the goddamn grim reaper who'd come for him.
Tommy sniffled as he toned down the fussing, blue eyes darting all over his father's face as if committing it to memory, chubby fingers leaning down to grab at the one Simon had woken him up with, and much like he did with any other thing he found lying around, shoved it right in his mouth, drooling around it.
A breathless chuckle escaped Simon's mouth as he watched him roll and fuss around his finger, resting his other arm on the crib and lying his head against it, transfixed with the sight of his small son.
A few tears were still running down his chubby cheeks, but he seemed to have calmed down now, Simon's finger acting like some sort of replacement for the pacifier that laid abandoned next to him.
"C'mon. Stop cryin'." He grumbled, pulling his finger out of his grasp and placing his large hands beneath Tommy's small body, carefully picking him up (making sure to support his little head like he'd seen you do) and propping him up in the crook of his arm, letting him squirm around for a bit until he found the perfect position. "You're a wriggly one aren't you?"
As expected, he didn't get any response apart from the thousand yard stare his son looked up at him with, similar to the one he occasionally gave Johnny to watch him freak out. Now that he did look at him closely, he could pinpoint how many features he'd inherited from his father's side, his shaggy hair, his blue eyes, his slightly crooked nose, even the chubby rolls and fingers he remembered seeing in his little brother.
"That's a boy." Tommy's eyes started to droop with every second he spent lying in his father's arms, his tears drying out and coos leaving his mouth instead of the agonising cries. "Feelin' better?"
He blindly walked over to the small chair he'd spotted in the corner of the room when he'd first walked in, grunting like his grandfather did as he sat down, careful to not squish or drop Tommy in the process, his hands tightening around him as the chair slightly reclined, the chair's feature catching him off guard and instantly activating the instinct to protect the small human in his arms that depended on him.
But Tommy didn't even flinch, giggling at the warmth that enveloped him and snuggling further into the blanket and his father's arms in the process, eyes still fixed on the dark paint that adorned his father's.
Finally, after their second staring match of the night, Tommy's eyelids finally closed, losing the battle and falling prey to sleep, something Simon silently wished he could too. Resting him in one arm, he pulled his balaclava back down, feeling a bit too exposed now that the need to have it off had ceased. He leaned his head back on the rest and stared up at the dim glowing stars, focusing on the steady breaths that racked his son's tiny body and the faint feeling of his heartbeat against his arm.
He could… he could really get used to this.
Having such a small thing in his arms, something he was responsible for, something he was supposed to love and care for, a purpose to continue the dangerous life he'd thrusted himself in. He was a father now. And although he knew barely nothing about being one, he'd learn. He hoped it wasn't a one time thing and that Tommy had truly taken a liking to him, that he was going to be able to take at least a bit off the load that you carried by helping in whatever way he could, whether it was bonding with his on or simply financially if that's all you wished of him.
He was a bit too lost in his thoughts as he reclined further in the plush chair, pressing Tommy to his chest so he was half lying on him, half still resting in his arms, a pretty comfortable position for the both of them.
"-mon."
"Simon!"
The blond was jolted awake by a pair of hands shaking him, his immediate instinct being to search around for the baby he remembered falling asleep with, blurry vision darting around to find him cooing and gurgling in your arms, hands latched onto your sleep shirt.
He turned to look out the window while cracking his neck, disoriented and confused about what time it was, the subtle sun rays that shone through the clouds and into the nursery telling him enough.
Had he fallen asleep? Like, actually slept for over an hour without waking up or any disturbances?
"'m sorry." His voice was deeper after a good night's rest, you noted as he rubbed his eyes with the bottom of his palm in an attempt to clear the blurriness, choosing to ignore the click of your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "Time?"
"'bout eight." You said, bouncing Tommy in your arms as you nodded towards the clock that hung up above him, eyes darting back down to see him hunched over, hands beneath his balaclava rubbing away the sleep in his eyes and no doubt spreading the face paint everywhere. "Tommy needs to have breakfast so I just assumed you'd want to be woken up as well. But, you're, uhm, welcome to sleep longer, I guess."
"No, I'm fine. I have to get up." Within a second, he was at his feet, Tommy staring up at him in awe as if he were gazing upon a giant, one of his chubby hands leaving your shirt to try and grab onto his, but Simon had left before he could even make first contact.
"You stayed here to talk, remember?" You said snappily at him as you followed, watching him pick up all his stuff. "We should talk."
His shoulders deflated mid tying his boot, a solemn nod in response like even talking to you was a chore, and after the night you'd had the day before, any little irritating thing like that was going to be enough to set you off.
"I want to be a part of Tommy's life. I've made that clear."
"I know. And that's… fine. But we're going to need boundaries."
He sighed, turning around with his other boot dangling from his hand, leaning his side on the wall opposite what had been supposed to be his bed for the night (the horror you'd felt when you saw him gone and your son's door open was unmeasurable), and nodding once again, eyes looking down at you expectantly.
Oh. Right. You were the one speaking.
"Well, for starters… if you really can't tell me more about your job than you already have, I want you to at least keep me updated whenever you leave for work. I.. I don't want any more surprises."
I don't want to feel the way I felt during that year again.
"Alright."
You nodded, pulling Tommy closer as he became enamoured with the necklace that dangled from your neck, trying his mighty best to pull the charm in his mouth as you talked. "And, if you stay over, you take the couch. And not taking Tommy out without me. Until… further notice." You feared you were being a bit too strict with him, but simply reminding yourself that this was in fact, basically a stranger who just happened to father your child, and you'd have to take preventive measures until you were sure that you could leave Tommy alone with him.
Simon ignored the slight pain that stabbed at his heart when you said that, but… it was understandable. You'd been with Tommy longer than him, hell, you'd carried him for a whole 9 months, you had a stronger bond with your son than he had. For both of your safety and his, he'd go along with anything you'd say.
After agreeing with a simple nod and finishing tying up his shoes, he walked up to you both, fingers brushing against your clavicle as he pulled your necklace out of Tommy's mouth, blue eyes fixated on yours. "Send me your bank details later. I'll deposit some money for you both. As much as you need."
He hesitated a few moments before pulling his fingers away, instead running them down Tommy's nose bridge before pulling away, pulling a giggle out of him.
"O-okay."
He nodded, leaning down to zip up his duffle bag before strapping it over his shoulder, jacket in his other arm since it was relatively warm outside for a morning in Manchester. "Text me if y'need anything. I'll answer this time… I promise."
You winced, the subject of his disappearance still a touchy matter despite everything you'd both discussed the night before, but by the way he hesitated before speaking, the way he was awkwardly standing in the main corridor, he was either very obviously lying or telling the truth.
You hoped it was the latter.
"...okay. Goodbye, Simon."
The moment the door opened, the doorbell rang out, making you and Tommy flinch at the loud sound and Simon grumble at being the main victim of the ringer.
Your neighbour was standing there, finger on the bell, furrowed eyebrows glaring up at the intimidating man.
"Good morning?" You poked your head around Simon's large frame, Tommy hiding his face in the crook of your neck as if able to sense the confrontation about to happen. "Is everything okay?"
"Uh, no. Sorry, just. I think I speak for everyone in this building that we'd appreciate it if you'd keep that baby o'yours quiet once in a while. Barely gotten any sleep these days 'cause of his bloody crying." He frowned, glaring down at the baby in question, as if he was truly to blame for something he was barely able to control. Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment, having remembered that you'd already expected this last night when Tommy had burst into tears the first time, and then the second time when you were asleep.
"Right, I'm s-"
"Babies cry." Ghost interrupted, glare fixed on the man in front of you both, hand tightening around the doorframe much like when he'd been trying to convince you to let him in. "Y'can't really help it."
"Well you can shut him up-"
"And we did. Wondering if I'm going to need to do the same to you." He said gruffly, almost puffing his chest out of pride when he saw the man's colour drain from his face. It was a bit of a shitty rebuttal, in hindsight, but when it came from the beast of a man that he was, it was enough to make a grown man like the one in front of him piss his pants. "'m I?"
"N-no, sir."
"Sorted." He watched the neighbour scurry off back into his apartment like a bug of sorts, turning back to you with an amused glint in his normally inexpressive eyes. "Bother you often?"
"Yeah." You said breathlessly, actually impressed with how quickly he'd been able to get rid of him, like your own personal pest exterminator. "Thank you."
"He won't anymore." He stepped out into the hall, sparing you and your son one last glance before awkwardly lifting his hand up in an attempt to say goodbye, Tommy immediately trying to reach over to him with a plump hand, fingers flexing as if trying to use the force to pull his dad back.
"He'll be back, duck, don't worry… he's not leaving."
Ghost pressed the button to the elevator, willing himself enough strength to not turn around immediately at the sounds of his soon cooing and whining at him, the soft words you spoke plunging a spear into his cold heart.
He'd be back. He promised.
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#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x fem reader#ghost x female reader#cod mwii#call of duty#ghost x you#ghost fanfiction#ghost x fem!reader#ghost fic#cod mwii x reader#cw pregnancy#— ménage
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How does Minotaur!Konig handle an argument with his wife/his wife being upset with him? He clearly avoids making her upset as much as possible because he loves her and only wants to see her happy, and she loves and accepts him as he is, quirks and all so I don't really see them getting into fights but maybe he gets way too reactive and violent with someone in town over a perceived slight and she gives him the silent treatment on the way home or something. I feel like he'd be so sad even if she only didn't talk to him for like an hour 😞 I can also see his insecurities/abandonment issues coming into play, he starts overthinking and makes it a whole big thing in his head and meanwhile she's already forgetting that she was even upset with him. These are just my thoughts but maybe you have something else in mind/see it playing out differently!
Yes absolutely!!
Minotaur!König cannot cope with this shit at all. The last time he did something “bad” ended in him being thrown into a cold, dark Labyrinth. Even as a grown man he goes straight into survival mode if he sees that he has somehow disappointed his beloved 💔
His wife knows how König is so it would take a lot for her to visibly show she’s upset with him. Our bull tries to avoid chaos as best he can which means arguments between these two are extremely rare — but they do happen! Because one thing you must know about all versions of König is that they think they’re always right. Minotaur!König is just as thick headed as the rest of them so if he thinks that “his cause is just” then he will stand his ground no matter what. He will claim that water is wine if he thinks it’s so!
Some petty perceived insult directed at his wife could get him riled very easily, could get them both into trouble because König won't cool down before he’s drawn blood. He wants to give this poor soul's head to his wife, on a plate if possible, and if he can’t do that the tension just won’t go away. How can life go on if he hasn’t done what’s right??
She has to guide König in social situations and explain later what it was all about, what different phrases mean and how he can’t just kill people if they don’t behave the way he wants them to. In some ways, she knows she is dealing with a child and has to be patient, how could this poor man know how to behave when he lived underground all those years? All he was taught was that he’s evil, unwanted and ugly, so the last thing she wants to do is hurl blame at him and scream. Silent treatment would totally be one of her ways to show him he didn’t get points home this time, but for König even the tiniest distancing looks like she’s abandoning him. Throwing him mentally into a tiny tiny Labyrinth, telling him he’s not wanted, that he’ll never be loved :(
And poor König doesn’t know what to do and how to be, for a while the anxiety threatens to take over. He reaches for her hand, then pulls away fearing she doesn’t want to be touched. He tries to talk, but nothing comes out because he doesn’t entirely understand what he should apologise for. He stands in the middle of the room and watches her blow air on the coals and just go on about her day, thinking that the time has finally come when she tells him to get out of the house.
It takes years before König takes the initiative in reconciling because he simply doesn’t know how to do it. Blunt, pained statements such as “Are you upset with me,” and “You’re disappointed in me” are common before he learns that the world is not going to end even if they’re not happy with each other all the time. His wife is usually the one who comes to him and says that everything is okay and that she was only upset with what he did, not with who he is.
Just imagine this adorable goof being both stubborn in his "I don’t have to say I’m sorry" policy and crippled by his "Are you going to abandon me" fear 💔 How can you even be angry at this man? There’s no chance, especially when he’s a jerk only once or twice a year 🩷🦬
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Jacky has a haunted arm. It started as a roleplay thing that I didn't think I would make canon, but I probably will. The situations it creates are fun.
Anyway, for our amusement she can use it to touch ghosts so she scared hers. (Art doesn't quite match the writing).
You can read the roleplay clip under the read more or on toyhouse.
GreekCeltic-
Junior was where she left him. He glanced at her. Same face. Same bags under his eyes and blushless pallor. What did that bandit say?
When eyes meet, the soul has made love?
Yeah he was wrong.
Junior turned back around and she wondered how far she could walk before he was compelled to join her. She felt a little bad for not asking, but the feeling had no stay power. His wants and needs took a backseat to hers and she had found a way to make herself okay with that.
He could talk. It was within his power to ask her to put him in someone else’s care any time he wanted. After being left in the woods she could understand why he wouldn't want to be parked on Vlinder's hearth- in the same forest -but there were other people in their group who would travel. All basically good people.
Picking her was self sabotage.
Idiot.
She walked all the way in and shut the door behind her. The wind feathered a few rug ends but didn't bother with him.
Maybe he's like AI and can't defy me, she wondered. Like bullshit television. She had never made the leap that it could be worse.
Jacky felt that she was babysitting and had exactly as much authority as a teenager over a nine year old. In the end, not very much at all. She kept waiting for his tantrum, wanting it because after all that had happened it would make sense, even be healthy, but it never came.
She stumbled back toward the fur mat she had grown to hate since she woke up and stared down at it, too tired to sleep. There was such a thing. Jacky swayed weakly near it and turned away.
She looked at him again and ground her bottom jaw.
Dummy should be begging to leave.
She hated the way he idled against the wall like a toy soldier waiting for something to do. That was the kind of thing that got ice put down your shorts at sleep overs. The idea of that made her spine prickle in a bad way, but it made her think.
Jacky tilted back and lidded her eyes. She reached for one of the support pillars and rested her weight on it, two feet closer to him.
I could do it.
She moved her feet, taking care not to scuff them on the floor. She didn't have to worry about the boards creaking. If they didn't notice Vlinder they weren't going to notice her. There were no more pillars between them, but she thought she'd make it.
She tried, and on the way thought about how many nights he'd spent right there in a different room. Waiting or staring, as engaged as a coat put away on a hanger. He didn't even breathe loudly because he didn't breathe anymore.
DO something!
The last few feet ended with her wobbling behind him, alarmingly silent, but not very steady.
She reflexively tried to grab his shirt to pull it back with her good hand, but it went right through. Jacky didn't stop to wonder if he'd noticed that. She stuck her *cold* hand out like a senile old woman with a fork. It went up his shirt and flattened on the part where his back sank in.
It worked when she slapped him. No reason to think it wouldn't work now.
Themascura--
The target of her ire had no idea.
None.
He was peacefully existing in a corner, appreciating the window. It was nice to have a different view. He liked trees. Not enough to have been okay with just their company for a few millennia, but enough to be okay staring at them for a few days.
It was pretty out there. There were squirrels. And birds! Not many of those in the city. The cats had mostly eaten them all-
Jacky was about to learn a whole lot of things in quick succession. One, she could in fact scare the shit out of a ghost. Two, despite being dead ghosts did in fact have startle responses. Three, when she was touching a ghost with her ghost hand apparently walls became interactable- because he slapped the window/wall with his belly when he jumped and it made a sound.
A beautiful hollow sound, like when you thumped a watermelon.
He left a foggy mark on the window when he hopped back. He was still hopping when he turned around, trying to shake the ice cube out of his shirt. His spine was still flickering when he got all the way turned- visible through his shirt and his front and almost as far as his shoulders.
The look he gave her was universal. The sibling glance of- I WAS MINDING MY BUSINESS.
Here you are, starting some shit.
He stuck a hand straight out for her face, confident it would go through, but also confident it would mess with her already wonky balance and depth perception. Time for you to take a time out on the floor. You pushed your luck to far today anyway.
GreekCeltic--
His reaction was Christmas.
She wasn't sure what to make of his spine. Jacky looked at her hand and wondered if it had cannibalized him somehow. A week ago she had dumped all the extra stuff into Christoph's leg. That had been a surprise. Christoph was alive, there was no way to know it wouldn't do the opposite and suck Junior up like a straw, like it had Virgil's magic.
Oough, there was a mental image she did not enjoy.
When she touched Christoph she went with a gut feeling that turned out to be right. Here too she decided to go with a gut feeling-- that it was fine.
"Oh excuse me did I interrupt your vacant staring?" Jacky's hand was still up, she dropped it and raised her other one, rubbing her arm furiously like she was trying to warm it up. Cold fire appeared and walked toward her elbow. "Gonna do it again."
She spread the fire to her good hand but she never got to try it. He threw his at her face- IN her face -and she spilled in stages. Mostly in slow, wobbly, backwards walking motions that ended up near the bed. She fell against the edge.
She had been put to bed.
OBNOXIOUS.
Jacky leaned into her sprawled arm and chose to be happy he showed some life. She didn't think she could get up without crawling on all fours and that wouldn't be preferable. She was also tired. It was possible she had never been so tired in her life.
She crawled over the edge and fell into the divot like a kitten into a laundry basket.
She slept all of the night and most of the next day. The only time she got up was to wash. She made a point of it so history wouldn't have to repeat itself. Who knows how many rag baths she got during the week. One was too many. Two would have been life ending.
Her hair was close to dry when she went back to sleep. She tried to make it longer, but felt harassed that she was not alone.
Dreams had been hard to remember the first week, but they were piling up now. She didn't know if she was remembering things or adding fantasies to what she did. All she knew was she couldn't be her own witness. With each waking she was a little more confused and a little more convinced she shouldn't have gone back for the brooch. It could have waited.
At the time the idea of leaving Junior out there to believe no one was coming was too much and it was too much now, but was it worth it?
The elf was back when she got up, laying beside her with his arm folded behind his head.
Him again.
Jacky looked at him a minute, but decided she didn't really care. She didn't know why. It should have embarrassed her but it was like sleeping with a big white dog. She got the feeling he thought of her as a cat.
She looked across the room and saw Herman on his back against the wall, also asleep. Some kind of spell had fallen over this house. She and Junior were exempt.
She grabbed her poncho and went out the front door. The moonlit air was bright and icy. She wasn't wearing her shoes but she didn't expect to go far and wanted the snow to bite her feet a little. It felt good even when it stung.
When she got to the gate she put her hand on it and flipped up the latch (too complicated for a dead guy, apparently), but never pushed it forward.
It would have been easy, but the idea of the gate held fast. There was a bigger obstacle here than a physical one.
I shouldn't, Jacky thought.
More like I can't.
She'd been thinking about this a lot and the conclusion she came to was damned if I do, damned if I don't.
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We are one Iowa caucus into the absolute shitshow that is going to be the US 2024 elections, and I'm already sick of seeing takes downplaying the risk that Trump and his fascist followers represent.
Look. Around 1900, my mother's grandparents immigrated to the Lower East Side of New York City. They brought with them children born in Europe (Poland? Ukraine? which country they were in depends on what year we're talking about) - we're not 100% sure they were THEIR children, even, but there were three, and they were young, and they came. But my great-grandparents had siblings, parents, cousins, uncles, aunts, huge families. And while my understanding is that an attempt was made to convince those folks to move to the US, none of them ultimately opted to.
They all kept in touch as they were able, exchanging letters and pictures, but through World War 1, through the 20s, through the Great Depression, through the worsening situation in Europe in the 1930s, my entire extended family who chose not to immigrate...continued to stay.
I think we all know how this story ends.
I have an entire family photo album of people whose names I will never know, because after every single one of them died in the Holocaust, my great-grandparents and grandparents couldn't bear to even label them. And they were PEOPLE, poor, vibrant, eager to maintain connections with their loved ones abroad. One was a Klezmer musician, and we have photos of him with all the different instruments he played. They're so real on the page, and they all ended in ashes.
And you know how that started? Fascism started with every inch allowed, with every well-intentioned moderate who tried to maintain a middle position even as the whole ground shifted right beneath their feet and even "middle" became extreme, every "no that change isn't coming fast enough, I want instant full improvement NOW" liberal who felt that doing nothing was better than accepting a slower improvement in the (truly awful!) post-World War 1 living situation in Germany.
Most of the members of my extended family also downplayed the risks. They never imagined that the worst could happen to them. They never fathomed how bad things could become.
And now I have their example always before me to know and to scream:
I KNOW HOW BAD THINGS CAN BECOME. I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FAMILY THEN.
I WILL NOT LET THAT HAPPEN TO MY FAMILY NOW.
People look at me like I'm crazy when I say I've got our passports ready (and have had since before the 2020 election).
Look. I don't know what will happen if Trump is elected, but there's a very real possibility he will, and he's been extremely clear about saying what he'll do. He did a lot of the things he said he'd do last time. I expect he'll continue to do the things he says he'll do. And the things he say he'll do will lead to the deaths of more people than we can imagine - in the US, in Palestine, throughout the world.
Don't tell me there's a middle ground here. Don't tell me I'm over-reacting. Don't tell me the worst won't happen. Don't tell me the risk is mild. Don't tell me we're safe.
We. Are. Not. Safe.
The lives of dozens, hundreds, of members of family were lost in the 1940s amid the horrifying statistic "6,000,000 dead Jews."
I will not let my life (as a Jew), my wife's life (as a disabled woman), my son's life (as a biracial boy), my daughter's life (as a biracial trans girl), be part of the statistics that come from our a second Trump presidency.
If you won't vote like YOUR life depends on it, vote like someone ELSE'S life depends on it, because IT DOES.
And if you can't even do that much, at least shut the fuck up and stop spreading your poison around. You're wrong. The danger is real. Downplaying it now won't make your conscience feel any clearer when it actually happens, and comforting everyone else downplaying it will just make you that much more complicit.
#unforth rambles#politics#us politics#genocide#genocide tw#i don't know how to tag this#i wish the album was here instead of at my mom's#i want every one of you who think this doesn't matter#to stare at the smiling faces of my long-dead relatives#and see these people who were shot and stabbed and burned and raped and destroyed#who died in rebellion or despair in hopelessness or desperation#no matter how much or how little they fought#they're all ashes now and nothing will bring them back#i have no family in europe#not a single person survived#i won't let my family be the ones who stay too long because we don't take it seriously#and neither should you
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I'm obsessed with Spider-Man so bare with me here.
Imagine the reader being a human who experiments with potions and genetics, sort of like a magic user scientist. And one day they had an accident that fused them with Spider DNA, so they have the web crawling stickiness, the advanced healing and strength, and biological web shooters like Raimi Spidey, all the Spider-Man abilities. They can't replicate the experiment, so they can't find a cure and are sort of stuck all spidery.
Whether or not the companions knew the reader, and which companions you wanna write for, before the experiment I guess is up to you? Whichever would be easier is whatever I'm okay with!
This sounds dumb- 😭 but it's perfectly alr if you don't want to do this!
- 💞 anon
•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•
How would they react to a Tav with spider-like abilities?
(Hello again 💞 anon <3)
.
.
: ̗̀➛ ASTARION
“Didn’t think our lovely little entourage would have an itsy bitsy spider crawling about. I’d rather not find myself webbed if we’re truly keeping you.”
He would have mixed feelings about your little situation at first. On one hand, he finds it fascinating that you possess such abilities but the other part of him finds it disgusting.
Even so, he ends up liking your spiderness anyway, there's amusement he can find in this form of yours that’ll allow him to disregard his disgust for now.
Was probably startled when he first saw you crawling across walls and ceilings. (He screamed and scolded you to cover up the fact that he nearly had a heart attack.)
He may or may not be slightly envious of the fact that you can so easily string your way across surface-to-surface without so much as breaking a sweat.
Though he would be lying if he didn't find it all the more impressive to witness. It's not every day he comes across a web shooting, ceiling crawling, possibly venomous aquantince.
Speaking of venomous, are you? If so, he'd rather never feel the sting of your bite. He’d prefer being the only one who gets the biting privileges.
Nevertheless, he’s grown to adore his spidery friend, especially when he watches you weave little cobwebs into various shapes and pictures. It's his favorite thing about your form.
: ̗̀➛ WYLL
“A… spider? Spider-human? Apologies, I’m not quite sure what you are but the pleasure is all mine. Perhaps having a rather insectoid companion of our own wouldn’t prove to be such a bad thing.”
He was definitely conflicted at first. He was somewhat of a monster slayer so did you count as one?
But then again, he was traveling with a vampire so perhaps his blade would remain sheathed and away from you for now. Besides, you prove no moral nor physical threat to him just yet.
He managed to put his own apprehensions aside in favor of learning all about you and the various abilities you possess.
He ended up getting all giddy upon seeing you demonstrate all your different abilities. It was amazing in his eyes, something he'd never quite seen before and it made him all the more compelled to befriend you properly.
You've probably been one of the few things that placed his initial beliefs about monster-like individuals aside. Not all of them are as bad as he thought now that he’s seen you.
And ever since his hellish transformation, it seems both of you have gotten yourself in some unfortunate transmutational accident. It's comforting to know that at least you understand what he's going through.
He loves fighting alongside you! Getting to see your powers put to use is an incredible sight. He feels honored to be doing so.
: ̗̀➛ GALE
“Glad to see I’m not too only one who may have dabbled in the wrong types of magic mishaps. Though, I’m sure being a tad bit more… spidery, than most has its own interesting perks.”
The most interested and confused of the bunch.
He’s off questioning how these spider-like abilities and if some sort of magic was involved in the process.
What potions did you mix together? Did you use a scroll? Perhaps you consumed something that caused the l transformation? Do you need it reversed? These are probably but a handful of questions he immediately voices out.
He truly does hope the entire transformation didn't hurt as much as suspected it would. That would be quite unfortunate wouldn't it?
Nevertheless, everything about your abilities is absolutely fascinating to him. Perhaps having a spidery companion could be quite intimidating but it does have its pros.
Both of you spin weaves in your own ways so there's that adorable little detail.
Though he has tried helping you reverse the effects of your situation, nothing he’s tried has done anything to get you back to normal. He was a little bit upset over the fact that he may have disappointed you but a little reassurance from you would put him back together.
Even so, he's already grown quite fond of your spidery self, and as long as you’re okay with it, he’d continue to adore it for days to come.
: ̗̀➛ KARLACH
“Fuck yeah! A goddman half spider?! Just when I thought this group couldn't be any less cooler. Say, how's it like being all spidery?”
Freaked the fuck out (lovingly) when she first saw your abilities. You’re the coolest thing she's seen in a while and she can't help but be utterly amazed by you.
You can climb walls too?! Heck, she’d kill to have an ability like that. She loves watching you scurry around walls and roofs like it's no big deal, she even tried to catch you at some point like a little game.
There are so many things about you she's currently fawning over that it's almost overwhelming. She’d be jumping about in delight the moment you use your web shooters to easily latch onto a nearby tree.
You two have probably gone around chasing one another for fun with the use of your own special powers, it's turned into some sort of playful little distraction when the journey gets too rough.
And to think your spidery strength nearly matches her own? You’re practically perfect in her eyes, a companion she's only dreamed of having.
She's spent lots of time wistfully staring as you weave tiny little webs for your own amusement, even making one in the shape of a star to impress your fiery friend. She loves it all the same.
: ̗̀➛ SHADOWHEART
“Well, I suppose I was never against having a spider join our strange little group. I’ll let you know if I ever need you to clamber onto a wall or two.”
As long as you use such spidery powers for the betterment of the group then she has zero qualms about you.
There's something rather amusing about watching you crawl across walls and whatnot, a strange ability she hasn't quite seen anyone but you possess.
Would remind you that there's zero shame in having powers such as yours, she’ll be the one to reassure you that you’re unique in your own interesting little way.
As long as the venom you have in your system is used against your foes, she isn't all too intimidated by your presence.
Generally only has neutral feelings about this strange form of yours, she’d even find some of your little spidery aspects adorable in her eyes.
There have been occasions when seeing you startle a friend or foe with your crawling abilities made her giggle but she has never once shamed you for it.
She could spend hours simply watching you weave tiny little webs, she encourages you to decorate the camp with them if the others don't mind the extra cobwebs of course.
: ̗̀➛ LAE’ZEL
“Chk, spider or not, just make sure your insectoid abilities are put to something more useful than weaving fragile little webs lest you find yourself being yet another pest.”
She didn't care much for your abilities, as long as they proved to be useful to her which fortunately they were.
Your little alchemical mistake seemed to prove to be advantageous in the long run as you were able to help her in a handful of battles.
Your web strings proved to be a resource for her (somehow she found a way to innovate such a thing) as she would often use them as a better bowstring.
Soon enough, her disregard for you turned into admiration, one that she didn't hesitate to tell you directly.
Though her admiration was a tad bit bold, it was something you were certainly flattered by. At least she isn't as unknowingly offensive as before.
If you were willing enough to lend your assistance, she would have used your venom as a coating for her blades by now. Using such a deadly substance to easily smite her foes.
Your increase in strength rivals her own, one that sparks a vibrant flame in her roughened heart. She favors the moments when she gets to witness you in the midst of combat.
Safe to say she enjoys your company and values your worth. Don't ever feel shame for possessing such a spidery form because it's certainly something she’s fond of.
: ̗̀➛ HALSIN
“A spider? Well isn't that quite the surprise? Of all the tiny spiders I've encountered, I’ve never quite seen one as undeniably remarkable as you.”
No matter the creature, he’d always come to value them, and that includes you!
You’ll never feel ashamed of yourself against with this man constantly praising you for what you are, spider-like abilities and all.
If you ever decide to use your powers to crawl atop him, he’d adore it. In fact, he’d laugh as you do so in the softest chuckle you've ever heard him let out. He’d allow you to stay there for as long as you please, he truly doesn't mind.
Seeing you so easily get from tree to tree is quite an impressive sight, silvanus knows he isn't quite as nimble or as graceful as you. This only gives him more of a reason to admire you more.
Was smitten the moment you showed him how you weave webs.
While he has seen little spiders do so, seeing you turn ordinary cobwebs into beautiful shapes melted his heart.
Show him a web you've made in the shape of a bear and you’d make his entire day. His only wish is for this little web of yours to forever be preserved for years to come. He simply can't get over how adorable it is.
In truth, you are a magnificent creature in his eyes, one he finds himself fawning over from afar. Words couldn't express how special you are to him.
•❅───���───────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 headcanons#bg3 headcanon#bg3 x reader#bg3 wyll#bg3 astarion#bg3 gale#bg3 halsin#bg3 shadowheart#bg3 lae’zel#bg3 karlach#wyll#astarion#gale#halsin#shadowheart#lae’zel#karlach
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AITA for being upset at how my former friends treated me?
tw: suicide and animal death
So for some context this was a very close knit friendgroup, for several years, of about 10 people, including me and my then partner. Also, everyone here is an adult.
Basically, one day I was in a really really bad place mentally. A beloved family pet was going to be put down soon, this dog had been a part of my life for almost half my life, and I was inconsolable and struggling to cope with this. During a discussion about some random interest I got too mean/harsh about it and it turned into an argument.
I know this was not justified and my grief wasn't an excuse, and I knew it then too and apologized to the people involved, and was met with overwhelming support, I was told "it's ok, we understand you're going through a rough thing right now, we're here to support you and you'll always have a place in this group"
Then my partner messaged me. They had not been part of the discussion at all, but they told me they felt hurt and wanted us to take a break. However, I misinterpreted that as a break up (combination of language barrier and me already being in shambles. This miscommunication is not something my ex can be blamed for)
This was an extremely serious relationship, we had been together for 2 years at that point and had a lot of future plans and such, so that on top of already grieving made me have a mental breakdown.
So, I vented on my personal tumblr. My vents did not mention/vague/allude to the situation at all, they amounted to "I feel terrible I can't do this anymore" and could very well have been only about my dog, or just about my depression in general. I also should point out that my ex doesn't use tumblr at all, so I didn't think he'd ever see those vents, and I certainly didn't want him to. And I also would not have reacted like that if I had known it was a temporary break. I know I still shouldn't have vented on a public blog, and it was hurtful no matter what. I wasn't thinking clearly at the time.
The next day, after our dog was put down, I sought support from my friends, but was suddenly met with "we're not impressed with how you've acted, get therapy, bye" and was kicked from the group. Several of them blocked me everywhere instantly.
Unbeknownst to me, someone had sent my vents to my ex and they had shown them to the others, and they'd drawn the conclusion that I was upset about a temporary break and was venting to try to guilt my ex into getting back with me. And not a single one of them brought this up to me. Again, we'd all been friends for several years at that point and this was literally the day after telling me I'd always be a part of the group and they were here for me. I couldn't even defend myself because no one would tell me anything, I asked many times but was told "you know what you did" even though I clearly didn't. I thought they'd all changed their minds about the previous day out of nowhere, or that this was because of (what I thought was) the breakup. I only learned what they actually thought much later. Oh, and my ex told me I needed therapy and he never wanted anything to do with me again (which is when I learned I'd been wrong about the breakup).
Again, I know me venting was harmful no matter what, so in that regard I am the asshole, but I still feel like there's a difference between what I did and deliberate manipulation, and surely people I'd been friends with for years could have spoken to me before assuming things?
So at that point I'd lost a beloved pet, my partner, and most of my close friends, within a day. So at that point I tried but failed to commit suicide, and was hospitalized.
While in the hospital, I didn't get a single word from any of my friends, except for one person. Supposedly, everyone had been "worried out of their minds" when they saw my suicide note. But not worried enough for a single word.
Even the one person who talked to me got extremely defensive and angry if I so much as implied I felt hurt by the group's actions. They even tried to hold it over my head how "despite everything you did X and Y were super worried about you" as if being worried about someone comitting suicide is some kind of heroic saint.
I asked to be allowed to talk things out with them, but was told "the others aren't comfortable associating with you", so I had to write a fucking google doc letter. I explained the situation from my perspective, apologized for my actions etc, but also made it clear that I felt hurt and didn't think their reaction was justified and that they should have at least talked to me first, and that I was very open to talking things out in person if any of them wanted to get back to me.
None of them did. Apparently they were writing a formal collective response letter to me. At which point I had enough of the silent treatment and said that if any of them had anything to say to me they could do so in person. Which made the group extremely angry because I was "silencing" them.
About three people got back to me, and all of their responses amounted to "we don't owe you an apology, our actions were justified because we thought you'd done something bad and we were just trying to protect [my ex] and the fact that you're upset about it proves you are bad" one of them compared me to their abuser.
They also said they'd been "having issues with my behavior for a long time now", I wish I could elaborate here in case it'd impact judgement, but I can't because none of them specified, and NOTHING of the sort had been brought up to me previously.
So. Again, I know I am the asshole to some extent, because regardless of my mindset me venting on my tumblr was still harmful, but I also feel like I was treated unfairly and cruelly by my former friends. AITA here?
What are these acronyms?
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"The real me is completely different from Wei Zhiyuan. Our personalities, the way we think, they're all very different," says Kurt Huang, who's been described as a "typical leo" by those around him.
Although he seems like the silent and dark type, Kurt Huang actually has a bright and straightforward personality. Since he was young, he has always been very "open" in that he expresses his feelings directly, is very straightforward with his words, and is incapable of pretending. This realness helped him gain popularity through variety shows. But for his acting work, which is what he loves the most, this realness made portraying characters all the more challenging.
Kurt Huang has long known that he's unable to "play" a character. Therefore, whenever he gets a role, he transforms into that character from head to toe. Instead of relying on his imagination or trying to figure out the character so that he can play the role, he lets himself become that person, to give the rawest reactions from a first-person perspective. He explains, "Wei Zhiyuan is someone who does not easily show his feelings, but I couldn't simply be expressionless or wear the exact same expression all the time! So I had to truly "become him" to know how he'd feel and act in each situation."
In addition to his complete understanding of his character's personality, he also has high work standards and pays a lot of attention to detail, so that he can portray the role as accurately as possible. For instance, he carefully considered how he as a 26-year-old could express the pure emotions of a teen boy as well as the unique brotherhood that's portrayed in the show. He explained, "Many might think that Wei Zhiyuan's feelings for his brother are like that of a family member or a significant other. But that isn't the case. He was abandoned at a young age with no one to rely on, so his brother became his whole world. It's an important difference."
You can read a script thoroughly to thoroughly understand the character, but letting yourself truly become that character in the flesh, is a much greater challenge. In the past, Kurt Huang would find the similarities between his character and himself and use that as a starting point. However, this time round, he wasn't able to find any similarities between Wei Zhiyuan and himself as he doesn't have siblings and is an open book, so what was he to do? Two months before shooting started, he began implementing what he termed as an "extremely twisted" method: to lock his human interaction- and outdoor-loving self at home, and force himself to be still.
During this time, he was in his room every day taking character notes, which filled eight pieces of A4-sized paper. He also shared that in order to better understand his character's emotional journey, he wrote about all of Wei Zhiyuan's "firsts," such as the first time he touched Qian and the first time he called Qian by his name. In his view, these are the moments that really made Yuan's heart flutter, and doing all this helped him better get into the role.
He can talk about this lightly now, but Kurt recalls that going through that period of repression was very difficult, and at one point he even felt as if he couldn't take it any longer. As he continued to live in Yuan's inner world, even his mother got worried. To make his portrayal as realistic as possible, he continued to live like this once filming started, even when the cameras weren't rolling. "Once we finished filming, I started filming another project and was finally able to pull myself out of this mindset. But when we started promotions (for Unknown), initially, I didn't really want to think back to that time as it was very very hard. But my manager encouraged me and said that thinking about that time and talking about it could be therapeutic in a way, and that helped me find the courage to talk about it."
Note: I only translated the parts related to Unknown.
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Love and Devotion | Various Characters
How do they react to you randomly ( or not so randomly ) professing your love for them? ( Or vice versa )
Characters: Yun, Zeno, Meguru Bachira, and Seishiro Nagi
Warnings: Nothing major, but for Zeno's part, they're very vague spoilers to the manga!
A/N: I don't know what this is honestly, but if I find the motivation and if you guys like this, I'll make a part two with different characters! :)
"I love you so much. Please don't ever leave me," You confessed to the beautiful genius before you, face hot and your body drenched in sweat under thick blankets.
"Stop saying stupid things," The genius in question replies, not sparing you a glance as he worked on your medicine, hands moving swiftly and meticulously as he mixed the herbs in a bowl, "You have more important things to worry about."
"But you are what's most important to me," You shamelessly retort, "Please, don't leave me.. I love you so much..I'd probably cry if you left me.."
"Calm down, I'm not leaving any time soon," He replies plainly before mumbling, "Not that I could if I wanted to. Knowing you, if I left you'd probably try to brush off your illness like an idiot and end up dying somehow.."
"Do you promise?" You ask and this time, Yun turns to look at you, his frowning face meeting your expectant one.
You truly are stupid, he thinks.
"It's going to take a while for me to finish your medicine so you should rest until then," His eyes break away from yours to return back to the bowl in front of him, "I'll wake you when I finish."
"I'm not sleeping until you promise me you'll stay."
"Fine, I promise I'll stay. Now get some rest."
"I don't believe you when you say it like that."
"Well that was the only time I'm saying it so you'll have to deal with it."
"Can't you be the tiniest bit romantic sometimes. I really think it would benefit our relationship if—"
"Go to sleep or I will leave."
"Y'know, the miss can stop poking Zeno now," Zeno said cheerfully only to be once again poked in the arm by you, who still seemed to be rather awestruck.
Understandably so. I mean, how can you not after what happened..
"Sorry.." You mumble out, reluctantly letting go of his arm, "It's just.. Even though I saw your powers with my own eyes, it's hard to believe that you're really okay."
As the gruesome events of the other day replayed over and over in your head, your fist clench uncomfortably tight, your nails digging into the skin of the palm of your hand. Zeno's eyes soften at the sight.
Slowly, he takes your balled fist into his hands, using his fingers to gently pry your fingers apart. Once done, he grabs your other hand and intertwines both of his hands with yours.
"Do you feel this? Zeno's holding your hand, you feel that?" He asks, his smile widening when you eventually nod your head.
"See, Zeno's just fine! No need for the miss to worry!" He lets go of your hands, bringing both of his hands up to ruffle your hair, "So cheer up!"
"Zeno.." Was all you mumbled before an almost frustrated groan slips from you. With rather aggressive movements, you grip the back of his head and shirt, forcing him to collide with your chest.
"You idiot! How can you act so carefree after scaring me half to death?" Zeno's eyes widen, not because of your angry tone or how tightly you're holding him, but because of the tears—your tears—that he feels stain his clothed back.
"I was so scared.. I.. I really did think I was going to lose you.." You wrap your arms around his neck, your head coming down to rest atop of his as tears glide down your cheeks, some of which landing on his head and wetting his hair.
"I love you.." You weep, "I love you so much that I couldn't bear the thought of something like that happening again so please..try not to let it happen again.."
Oh, how he wishes he could lie to you. To tell you that he'd never throw himself into a situation like that again but that simply wouldn't be true because he probably will. To be completely honest, he doesn't care about what happens to him or this body of his. Being a shield is his one and only purpose and in a way, his reason to live. It'd be too obvious of a lie to tell you he'd never do something like that again..
..But at the same time, seeing you cry over him like this is not something he wants to make a normal occurrence.. It's nice to know you care for him enough to cry over him, but he'd much prefer your smile over your tears.
And so, he wraps his arms around you, lifting his head up to bury himself in your shoulder as he allows you to sob into his, smiling to himself as he whispers in your ear, "I'll try for you."
"I'm home!" Bachira's excited voice rings throughout your apartment as he swung the door open.
After being gone for so long, he was so happy to be home! So happy to be able to rest in his bed and eat yummy food and, most importantly, he's so so so excited to be able to see you in person again! To see your smile, to hold you close.. Eeee~! Just thinking about it makes him all the more eager!
..But you aren't waiting for him at the door like you said you would.. Where— Oh, nevermind.
As he walked closer to the large sofa, your figure revealed itself; comfortable and tangled in pillows, you were fast asleep and softly snoring away. The sight makes him pout. As cute as you are like this, he would've liked it if you were awake and greeting him with open arms like he imagined..
Guess he'll have to settle with a goodnight kiss.. Or maybe he should wake you up with a surprise, hehe..~
With a mischievously silly idea now forming in his head and a playful smirk on his face to match it, Bachira takes no time to lean over the couch. He dips down, inching closer and closer to your face..
And just like that, he was caught in your trap.
Everything happened in a instant and before Bachira could process you flipping him over and onto the couch, you were already covering his face in wet kisses and tickling his sides, causing his face to crinkle up as a string of laughs force their way from his pale lips.
"I knew you'd try something!" You say, wide awake and grinning triumphantly at the boy dying of laughter underneath you.
"I- Ahahahaha..~! I- I thought— Wait! I- Ahahahaha..~!" He couldn't even get his words out because of your ruthless assault to his poor sides. It was only when the tears begin to form that you finally showed mercy, removing your hands from his sides at last.
He takes a few breaths, his body going limp as it's released from your ticklish torture. You wait a few moments to allow him to catch his breath before your hands come up to tangle in his two-toned hair, carding your fingers through it in a rhythm..
"I got you pretty good," You say cheekily, it earns a small, slightly breathless chuckle from your boyfriend.
"I thought you were asleep," He says, "I was asleep until a few minutes ago, thanks to a certain someone," You quip before completely falling on top of him, slamming all your body weight onto him and burying your face in his chest. Not that he minded.
"You made such a ruckus opening the front door you woke me up," You explained in grumble, although your tone made it evident that you weren't actually upset.
"Sorry, 'couldn't help it! 'Wanted to see your gorgeous face as soon as possible!" He says. Planting a kiss on your forehead and following up by pulling you up and kissing you in various other places like your nose and cheeks, "I missed you so so so so so much, babe!"
A huff escapes you, but it looses it's vexing effect due to the wide smile painted on your face, "I missed you too, beautiful. But next time, come in a little quieter.."
Lazy days were always your favorite.
No annoying ass colleagues annoying you about boring ass work, no early mornings, and the best part, no leaving the bed. What makes things even better is that your boyfriend was home, cuddled up to you as you played in his hair.
"You're really pretty.. My pretty boy.." You cooed into his ear. You've been whispering compliments into his ear ever since the two of you woke up and although he liked it, the endless stream of adoration was really starting to get to him..
"Stop.." Nagi mumbled out in a way that comes off as borderline whining as he attempted to bury his face into your shoulder even more than he already was.
"What? I thought you liked it when I complimented you, baby," You said, eliciting another, even more whiny, groany, mumble from him.
"I do, but not when you're shoving it down my throat like this.." He said, but his pink ears gave away the truth; he simply couldn't handle anymore of sygary-sweet compliments..
Even with his sweet tooth, he knows that any more candy-drop affirmations would give him a stomachache..
You chuckle, "Okay, okay, I'll stop for now. ..I'll just shower you in kisses!" And before he could complain, you were already leaning in and covering any and every part of his face that you could reach with wet pecks, "Heyyyyyy," He groaned, but he doesn't stop you. Afterall, attempting to stop you would be too much effort and he hates putting in effort for anything on lazy days..
Hm, guess he stuck being pampered like this until you tire yourself out. How annoying.. Not really, but it's hard to sleep when you're making his heart race.
Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx
#yona of the dawn#blue lock#yona of the dawn x reader#blue lock x reader#yotd x reader#bllk x reader#yun x reader#yoon x reader#zeno x reader#yun x reader yona of the dawn#yoon x reader yona of the dawn#zeno x reader yona of the dawn#yun x reader yotd#yoon x reader yotd#zeno x reader yotd#akayona#akayona x reader#akatsuki no yona#akatsuki no yona x reader#yotd#akatsuki no yona zeno#akatsuki no yona yun#akatsuki no yona yoon#yona of the red dawn#yona of the dawn scenarios#bachira meguru#bachira x reader#blue lock meguru bachira#blue lock scenarios#blue lock x you
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One week after being taken in by Joyce and Jim, Billy's found it hard to kick his old habits.
He's found himself rather dependent on drugs and alcohol. So, he does what he usually does to deal with time at home— he gets high and drunk.
He always did it to numb himself, mind and body. So he wouldn't feel the punches. So the screams wouldn't sound so loud. So his body could still feel relaxed in frightening situations. So he could still sleep at night after facing the waking nightmare which was Neil hargrove.
He didn't need to do it anymore, but he still did.
Jim wasn't trying to smother the boy. Eighteen's still an adult, even if he's a kid in Jim's eyes. So he just...waits for Billy to eventually come home, hoping to God he doesn't have to go out looking for him.
10:30 PM...11:42...12:20...1:35...
2:32AM, Billy finally stumbles in the house, quite noisily. His keys hit the floor, he mumbles curses under his breath, he bumps into the coffee table because he's not used to navigating this house in the dark just yet.
He sighs in annoyance and just plops down on the couch. He's already feeling a little uneasy because he made so much noise.
Jim surfaces from his bedroom and sits next to Billy. He shines a flashlight in his face, answered by a groan and the quick reflex of Billy slapping the flashlight away.
"You're wasted, aren't you?" Jim assumes. "Joyce has been worried sick about you. I stayed up all night waiting because she sat by the window waiting to see you park in the driveway."
"Mmh." Billy groans. He's not coherent enough to respond, to apologize.
"How the hell did you drive like this?!" Jim questions.
"I do it all'a time. S'no big deal."
"It's a big deal. Are you crazy? You could've gotten yourself killed!"
"So what?"
"So what?! Billy! How do you think we would feel if something happened to you?"
"I'unno. I just got here. Wouldn't matter."
"It would matter. Jane loves you. Will and Jonathan really like having you here, and Joyce, psh, forget it. You're her baby, just like her other boys. She knows what you went through and all she wants to do is take care of you."
Billy whimpers in response before a soft sniffle can be heard.
Jim places a comforting hand on Billy's shoulder. "Don't cry, alright? Let's sober you up so you can say goodnight to Joyce."
"M'kay." Billy nods.
Jim makes him a cup of coffee and a sandwich.
"Listen. You don't have to check out whenever you come home. Things're different now. It'll be nice if you're present so we can feel like a family."
"You don't need a screw up like me in your family."
"We're all screw ups, Billy. We've all screwed up in one way or another, or been screwed over by life. That's what makes our family so great. We understand each other."
Silence filled the kitchen. The kitchen clock ticked and the lightbulb above them softly buzzed.
"Sorry." Billy finally said. "I'm not used to this."
"I know. You want some cookies and milk?"
"I'm not a kid." Billy rolled his eyes.
"You're my kid. And you can have cookies and milk if you want 'em."
Billy chuckled. "I guess I do want them."
"Atta boy." Jim excitedly opened up a pack of Oreos and poured himself and Billy some milk.
They'd eaten nearly half the package when they heard someone clear their throat.
They both turned to see Joyce standing in the doorway, her arms folded over her robe.
"Having a late night snack, are we?"
"Sorry." Jim apologized. "Did we wake you?"
"No. I was already up. I went to check Billy's room to see if he'd come home and...here he is with you, eating all the snacks."
"I'll replace the oreos." Jim promised.
"I don't care about the oreos, honey. I'm just glad you're home." She said, smiling at Billy. "I was worried you wouldn't come back, then I wouldn't know if you were safe or taking care of yourself."
Billy frowned. "I didn't mean to worry you. I-I swear I won't do it again."
"I hope not." She approached him and kissed his forehead, then snatched the oreo out of his hand and dipped it in his milk, before shoving the whole cookie into her mouth.
Billy laughed as she strutted away, bidding a quiet goodnight before returning to bed.
"I guess I'd better turn in too." Jim said with a stretch as he stood. "What about you?"
"Yeah. I think I'm gonna do the same."
"Goodnight, kid."
"G'night dad."
They looked at each other wide-eyed. Billy didn't mean to call him dad. Not this soon.
"Sorry was that...that was weird, right?"
"Not to me. Whatever makes you feel comfortable."
They smiled at each other before heading to their rooms.
Billy snickered at the pajama set Joyce had laid out for him on his bed. He hadn't worn a pajama set since he was 8 years old, but the red lounge pants and matching cotton shirt were so soft, and the made bed was even softer.
He didn't want to feel numb anymore. He wanted to feel the comfort of his bed, and the warmth of his loving family.
#couldn't sleep so here you go#abuse tw#drugs tw#alcohol tw#adopted billy#billy and hop#billy hargrove#jim hopper#joyce byers#ivy.doc#hargrove.doc
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zb1’s maknae line rejecting you but later regretting it 🪩
how to be in love with me !
pairing: zb1 maknae line x gn!reader
warnings: swearing, this isn't really fluffy. ricky is TOXIC 🆘, jealousy, ricky is a player lol, love triangle shit, yujin is just like me (worse version), english isn't my first language!!!
genre: my ridiculous attempt at angst?
synopsis: zb1 rejecting you but later regretting it
notes: i DO NOT KNOW what i just wrote here. gunwooks is the only one with happy ending bc it's teas ( @teaxeee ) 18th birthday today yayyyy!!!! EVERYBODY SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
to anon: thank you for your request!!! this was my first request and i really loved it, even though it was kinda hard to write!! i hope you don't mind that the endings aren't happy at all <33
SHEN QUANRUI
ricky stared at you from across the hall, laughing and joking around with your new friendgroup. he scoffed in annoyance; he was jealous and his ego was bruised. he gritted his teeth as he watched another boy putting his arm around your shoulder and telling you something that was apparently funny, considering the way you started giggling as soon as his words hit your ear.
ricky only rejected you because he enjoyed the attention he received from others too much- girls and boys were sticking around him at all times, not even trying to hide their romantic interest in him. officially dating someone would've meant that he couldn't tolerate blunt flirting anymore, and he did not want that.
after turning your confession down you started to pull away from him, surrounding yourself with different people, not paying attention to him and not even sparing him a single glance whenever your paths crossed. it helped him realize that he'd rather have you than any of his admirers… but considering the attitude he showed you when rejecting you, you surely wouldn't give him a second chance. it pissed him off.
KIM GYUVIN
it was pretty much a dilemma in his case. he didn't think he would ever find himself in some lame kdrama-fit situation like that, but there he was. ricky, y/n and gyuvin- best friends since day one and attached by the hip. but the second romantic feelings got involved everything got messed up- and the friendgroup that once was, wasn't anymore.
gyuvin only rejected you because he knew that ricky was in love with you. while gyuvin too harbored feelings for you, he couldn't bring himself to break his other best friends heart like that. "feelings like that destroy our friendship," is what he said to you, in hopes that you'd understand and maybe just suppress your feelings in order to protect your platonic relationship.
feelings like that did destroy the friendship. after gyuvin rejected you, you reached out to ricky for comfort- and after that it was simply not the same anymore. gyuvin really regretted it. he did not know what he should've done differently in order to save your friendship, but he wish he did whatever it was instead. he not only missed you as his crush, he even more missed you, and ricky too, as his best friends.
PARK GUNWOOK
gunwook didn't know much about love. all his life he mostly focused on school and platonic relationships, not really caring about romance. he worked hard to make his always busy parents proud and not cause them trouble and stress; that's why he was constantly at the top of his class, the class president with the perfect record.
you changed that as you transferred schools to his. you showed him that grades weren't everything in life and made him want to discover what exactly romance is; even though it kind of freaked him out. the act of showing your true and vulnerable self to others, that is. that's why he first rejected you when you came forward and told him about your feelings for him, he asked you to please give him time and space to think and collect his thoughts.
you understood and gave him the space he needed. but once gunwook was given the space he thought he needed, he realized how much more he needed you. he only took 2 days to think before he went ahead and confessed to you this time. do you accept?
HAN YUJIN
you used to be best friends, known for constantly goofing around with each other. feelings changed, everything changed. yujin had to move away. it wasn't planned for a long time, it was a rushed decision his parents made one tuesday evening, the moving already happening next week. yujin did not know how to tell you about it and he always backed out last second when he was about to; driving you crazy in the process, making you think he was trynna confess to you but ultimately being too shy, which wouldn't be off-brand for him.
so you took matters into your own hands and finally confessing to him, one day before he was supposed to move away. that poor boy was already overwhelmed enough with trying to come up with a way to tell you the truth, he did not need that extra load! thousands of thoughts were rushing through his mind, not a single one sticking for more than a few seconds. and before he could properly process it, the word "no" just slipped past his lips, lingering in between you, causing a deafening silence.
everything went so fast. before he knew it, yujin was on his way to his new home, leaving you and conversations he should have had but didn't, behind. it's not like he didn't feel same way. he liked you, a lot. but it was for the better. he was overwhelmed and panicked. that's what he tells himself at least, to calm his nerves down. he left without saying anything to you and he knows a heart to heart talk is long overdue; but he also knows that he fucked up, real bad.
#zb1#zerobaseone#zb1 x reader#zb1 reactions#zb1 headcanons#zb1 scenarios#boys planet#han yujin x reader#park gunwook x reader#kim gyuvin x reader#shen quanrui x reader#shen ricky x reader#ricky x reader#zerobaseone headcanons#zerobaseone reactions#zerobaseone scenarios#zerobaseone x reader#zb1 angst
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I'm really intrigued, I know you like the sumeru squad, but my favourite dynamic among them is actually Alhaitham and Cyno! I wanted to know what you think of them!!
I think they're very similar sometimes, but Alhaitham is introverted and his jokes are hard to distinguish (because he's too smart for anyone to understand that he's not /srs hahaha) and Cyno is extraverted but his jokes are just awful, BUT I think they like each other's jokes a lot, and I think they encourage each others' theatrical/playful sides. I also think they'd both enjoy going to watch performances together since Alhaitham and Nilou became friends after that event before, and we all know Cyno likes to watch.
I also think Alhaitham probably enjoys playing Genius Invocation with him, since he evidently really values passionate people. He'd let Cyno infodump like crazy about his new cards and how he feels about new rules, and even though he'd make "oh woooow that's so interestiiiing" sarcastic comments, he'd sit still and keep the information. And Cyno knows he's like this, so he's happy to go on, but he'll start being like "if you don't want to listen to someone talking, you could go do your job" and they'd both be like "lol :)"
He also really respects and trusts Cyno canonically (for example his story quest relied on Cyno understanding his secret messages, and once he got there, Alhaitham immediately stepped back to let him work) which I think is a huge deal for him, since most of the time he wants to be at the center of things so he can keep the situation under control. Luckily with Cyno he knows he can leave trouble in trustworthy hands.
They're both just the type of person to be straightforward and say exactly what they think, and although they've definitely butted heads because of it before, I think they would really treasure that honesty in their friendship. I think they'd really enjoy each other as friends.
Anyway it's a shame that they're both so misunderstood by the fandom, I feel like their friendship gets ignored because people think Alhaitham is a cruel person, and people seem to forget Cyno exists if he's not being shipped with someone 🥲 they're two of my favourite characters and I love them so much 😭
OOOOH REAL !! For me, AlHaitham and Cyno is like.... a funny duo (in kind of some way) in sumeru squad. I sometime imagine Cyno considerind AlHaitham like a rival ! Cyno is way too shonen in his routine, and AlHaitham is his perfect opponent (this kind of Frienenemies but lighthearted) and Alhaitham doesn't mind bahahaha he spends good time with Cyno being competitive and him being effortless strong in whatever he does
AND !!! THIS PIC
Ayato Itto are strong opponent, and they call them themself "bro" whatever
FOR BEATING THEM, CYNO MAKING PEACE W ALHAITHAM (in his mind, because he is the only one who was in competition) and saying thing like "OKAY, FOR THE SAKE OF WINNING, LET'S PUT AWAY OUR DIFFERENCE AND FIGHT TOGETHER, BRO."
AlHaitham who would be a bit confused like "we had difference?"
NGHHHH when this pic was out I wanted to draw them sob but no motivation...
BUT YEAH I ALSO LOVE THEM A LOT ! I am so so soooo glad to be able to talk abt them without bringing ship or what aaaaaa Thank you so much for the opportunities, anon !! <33
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Hello. So I have a funny thought. The dorm leaders over hearing Mc talking with someone about what do they like in a guy. Mc's response is a guy who has a ponytail. I can't stop snickering at someone like Riddle making up a rule about no one in his dorm can wear a ponytail. Well except him, which he tries to do when he invites Mc to an unbirthday party. Thats all I can think of, but it'll be funny if you can think of the dorm leaders reacting to this info. Or just any characters of your choosing. It doesn't matter. (Really want you to mention Sebek though)
due to the character limit 👁️ since you mentioned you wanted to see our dear crocodile child and riddle. i'll be adding azul and malleus since i believe they're that big of a shit to pull it off 😎
"Someone laid-back and relaxed..."
Sebek was sure that neither of those words would even be remotely associated with him. He knew well of his reputation of being the tight-laced and honorable retainer of Malleus Draconia!
Surely, there was something he could do for you to change your tastes. Some event that would make you say, 'No! That isn't my type! I like someone strong, passionate and devoted!'
He would show how inefficient of a significant other (bother) it would be to have someone who's annoyingly lax. Every situation must be taken seriously, and every action must be given one's all.
Or he could go for the alternative and — much to his dismay — loosen up a little.
So, with a plan, a backup plan, and a backup-backup plan, he marched towards your dorm.
It was quite a jarring sight to see Sebek lazily eating on the couch. Add the fact that he hasn't yelled nor spoke Malleus' name was enough to be nightmare fuel.
"Sebek, are you ill?"
"Yes."
"Ponytails look hot on a man..."
Ponytails...? Out of all hairstyles you had to choose someone that wore that devil-spawn style on their hair? Good grief, it might be just as bad as rock music. As mother says, it is the root of all evil— along with goatees.
And that same evil belies that dastardly hairstyle's roots as well.
New rule— No More Ponytails. Every student must keep their hairstyle as-is and should follow the school's hygiene guidelines. Which means everyone is to get a haircut with length well within the rules.
And yes, that extends to you, Cater. And that is final.
"Can't a man just style his hair in peace?"
"There, there, Cater."
"Dorm Leader! Wait— is that...a ponytail...?"
"You're pretty petty on this one, Dorm Leader."
"That's fair."
"If there's anything I want in someone— it's punctuality."
Of course, Azul wasn't into employing petty tactics such as adding more tasks to his employees'— erm, dormmates' workload. He wasn't the type.
It was merely chance that Mostro Lounge becomes incredibly packed and busy whenever you chose a lucky bachelor from Octavinelle. You must understand that the lounge needed more hands on deck than usual. Truly, he did wish for your dates to go swimmingly.
But if a punctual man is what you fancy, you need not search any further. The Octavinelle housewarden prides himself in that aspect of himself. Rest assured, he'd arrive not a minute late to any of your commitments with him.
Mysteriously, during your little date with Azul, Mostro Lounge was as quiet as a mouse. It was almost deserted, with only less than a few patrons along with Azul and you— his muse.
"It's good to see this place isn't as busy as before."
"Yes, Azul hasn't called any of those who are indebted to him to purchase a meal."
"Jade!"
"Oh, it was a slip of the tongue. My bad."
"I want someone smart, but still has that bad boy feel around them."
He hated the fact that Kingscholar was the first person to come to mind the moment you uttered those words.
Your preferences are quite strange. Do you not prefer a powerful and gentlemanly prince over a lazy and sloppy man such as Kingscholar?
He was not one to conform to another person's standards. But Savanaclaw's dorm attire did look rather stylish. It was far different from Diasomnia's military uniform.
And wouldn't missing out on this opportunity mean that he wasn't fully enjoying his life as a student now, would it? It wasn't an excuse, mind you.
"My, Malleus, Savanaclaw's attire rather fits you."
"Oh? And what's that to mean, Lilia? Piling me with those hooligans?"
"I'm sure father does wish not speak ill of your look, my Lord."
"It was a joke, Silver."
"YES! AND LORD MALLEUS LOOKS HANDSOME IN EVERYTHING HE WEARS!"
"I'm flattered, Sebek."
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#gn!mc#gender neutral reader#twst x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#malleus draconia x reader#sebek zigvolt#riddle rosehearts#cater diamond#trey clover#ace trappola#deuce spade#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#silver#writing#my writing#twst oneshot#twst fanfiction
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Lord Of The Rings With a Platonic, Child Reader From Our World
Characters included : Frodo Baggins, Legolas, Samwise Gamgee, Peregrin ' Pippin ' Took and Meriadoc ' Merry ' Brandybuck
Note(s) : They don't have the time to turn around, so you sort of get roped into joining them, at least until they find a place for you to stay.
Also, in this the reader knows about the Jackson movies but never really paid attention to them, and they haven't read the books.
Frodo Baggins
Ah, yes, Frodo. Resident ring bearer and anxiety magnet. He was quick to defend you if any suspicion arouse of your random arrival, you're a human and can't even reach his height, the Hobbit that can't reach an elves or humans chest, so, you must be incredibly young. Because of this, Frodo can't help but want to help you, especially on the quest.
He's very sweet and caring with you and makes sure you get enough rest. Frodo can't exactly carry you, so if you get too tired to walk the most he can do is hold your hand and guide you along. Despite that, he helps in other ways.
Like how he's always giving you extra food and maybe even a spare coat or blanket that's laying around, he makes sure you get enough sleep even if it means he gets less. Given he's the most important part of this mission to destroy the ring, he's usually a bit babied and overprotected, not so much that's it's immediately noticeable, but it's there.
So, he understands how annoyed you can get when it happens with you, though he definetly thinks your situations are different considering he's technically an adult and you aren't even close to being one.
Frodo isn't too sure how to help you when it comes to you being afraid, or angry, or even just in a state of depression about your situation. He doesn't exactly realise how strange and overwhelming it must be for you, until or if you begin to start wearing down mentally. His solution is to try and read you stories, no, he didn't exactly bring any books with him, but he has certain books memorised.
It may help, it may not, but the thought is what counts, and he is trying to help you the best he can with the unfortunate situation he's in.
If you ever claim to know him or the fellowships story, maybe Bilbo's, or even accidently letting in on events to follow, he's stunned. At first given the fact you claimed to be from a land nobody, not even Gandalf, has heard of, the strange reactions you had to their foods and way of life, among many, many other things, he became convinced you weren't human. That, or you were from a different time, the future specifically, he'd never fully believe it or bring it up, but it's always a sneaking suspicion you aren't what you claim.
When it comes time to leave you at a safe village, you're clearly unhappy, wanting nothing more than to stay with the Hobbit who helped you through your toughest hours. Yet, he understands you mustn't come with him, it's far too dangerous for you. And so, he leaves, leaving you heartbroken.
When he eventually returns, the ring destroyed, Middle Earth saved, he can't help but feel empty. His time spent with you becomes short lived, a few months at most, before he decides to move on, leaving you alone again, I suppose it makes leaving Middle Earth to return home easier, but all the more bitter.
Legolas
Legolas understood how weak humans are compared to his kind, and to see a human child so alone made his heart break. He couldn't help but become your protector, especially when you seemingly had no idea how to function in this world. Sometimes, if you're too tired and the rest of the group isn't, he'll pick you up, it can make you feel a little weak, but he assures you it's just because you're young. He'd treat any other child the same.
I think he may be one of the few to actually understand in part what you mean when you say you aren't 'from here'. He won't clock in immediately, but after seeing just how different you viewed life and just everything in general, how you can't do the most basic of tasks without some help, or how you looked at him with such familiarity, there's just a lot he notices that makes him raise a brow.
If you tell him, Legolas may believe your making it up, you're a kid after all, one that's going through a lot. But, after realising you're dead serious he wracks his brain trying to remember if anybody has ever mentioned something like this happening. He wants to try and help you go home, and plans to bring you home with him so he can find a solution somewhere. And if he can't find one? He wants to help you find peace in your predicament as long as you stay there.
When it comes time to leave you at a safe haven, he is sad to leave you behind, you're a little friend, after all. But, he understands it must be done, and explains to you exactly that, which makes the ending a bit more sweet than bitter.
Eventually, he does return, and meets with you once more, he understands that in a blink of his lifetime you'll be dead, but, that doesn't stop him from being your closest ally during all of this. However, you do need to return to Earth. He finds himself mourning you far sooner than he expected.
Samwise Gamgee
Sam becomes a literal dad, you're a random human kid in this traumatic journey to destroy one of the most dangerous items in the entirety of middle Earth, and you claim to have no idea where you are. He's giving you extra food, holding your hand and picking you up, if you get too cold or scared in the night he'll try hugging you for a while and telling you stories of misadventures in the Shire. As plain as they may seem compared to a journey to destroy the most dangerous object in the entirety of Middle Earth.
If you're sad, the most he can do is offer comfort in the way of cuddling, or a story, sometimes he even has to ask Gandalf for help because he's just so lost. Anger is something he can deal with a little better, he holds your hand and tells you why you should be angry, but you shouldn't keep it bottled or use it unfairly against others.
I think at first Sam would just believe you come from a strange human place, and that's why your behaviour is so off. That's until he notices some things, when asked about things he'd consider basic knowledge, you are completely blank, sure, maybe you know what an elf is, but after that you sort of just stare at him confused at what he's talking about. You even believed him to be a dwarf at first!
He asks Boromir and Aragorn if they know any human places that you're talking about, neither know, so he's even more perplexed at what on middle earth you're talking about. He begins to believe you're making it up, he's not condescending like most adults, and he pretends that he understands if to give you some peace of mind, but all it does is make you more frustrated and scared. You just want to go home.
Your short time as friends comes to an end, he must leave further on in the journey, and you must stay behind, you both understand, well, he does and you partly do, all you can do is wait for the ring to be destroyed.
Sam returns, and he takes you back to the Shire with him, where he introduces you to everybody, you're almost like a child to him, but then you leave to go back to Earth. He can't stop his heart from breaking, even more so when Frodo leaves.
Meriadoc 'Merry' Brandybuck and Peregrin 'Pippin' Took
The fact you're incredibly young, found yourself in a traumatic and confusing situation, let's not even mention the fact there's little people with gigantic hariy feet and no shoes, you'll probably try and cope. Whether that's with humor or shutting down, Pippin and Merry are a package deal, no matter if you like them or not, a young and confused presence egnites their curiosity.
Besides, Gandalf specifically told them to not be overbearing and or overwhelm you, so what does Pippin, master of disappointing and angering the grey wizard do? That's right, he becomes overwhelming. And Merry, master of attempting to one up his dear friend, does the exact same.
How they do this depends on your mood, if you're depressed and very shy they'll try cheering you up, asking questions about your home, if that makes it worse? They begin acting even more childish than usual to make you laugh, to the literal pain and torture of Gandalf. But if you're trying to cope with humour, they are more so just tagging along, making jokes that distract you from your pain.
Neither will clock in that you're from an unfamiliar world, sure, you're weird, but so are they. Both assume your strange actions are simply just a result of you being a human, do Boromir or Aragorn act the same? No, but you're a human kid so, that probably factors in somehow.
Both laugh you off if you try to explain the truth, they don't believe you, and reduce it to a good story that they can give to Frodo to write about. You may get angry, sad, or just decide to go with it, neither really notice that you're not lying until someone else points out how dumb that idea is.
When it finally comes time to drop you off, you want to stay with the two, because while they're in part strangers and this is a strange land, they're at least familiar, unlike the place they're basically abandoning you at. Pippin and Merry feel the same, and so sneak you with them.
The situation may become dire, and you probably get incredibly unhealthy and sickly in your time with them, but when it's all over, you feel like you've gained two older brothers. Which will make it so much more painful when you have to say goodbye.
#Lord Of The Rings#LOTR#The Lord Of The Rings#lord of the rings preferences#lotr preferences#LOTR x reader#Lord of the rings x reader#Lord of the rings preference#LOTR preference#LOTR x gn reader#Lord of the rings x gn reader#samwise gamgee#frodo baggins#meriadoc brandybuck#peregrin took#pippin#merry#merry and pippin#frodo#sam#legolas#legolas greenleaf#pippin x reader#merry x reader#frodo x reader#legolas x reader#pippin x gn reader#merry x gn reader#frodo x gn reader#legolas x gn reader
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I fell asleep waiting but it's ok because the power of alarms woke me and my dog up
Could I request a hurt/comfort scenario with slender and platonic reader who is has not adjusted well to their new environment? I was thinking like a therapy session but whatever you think works cos you're the boss here 😎
It was... Strange. Strange, and new, and scary all at once, suddenly being thrust into the Underworld. You'd been taken in by a man that you wanted to believe was kind and trustworthy, but your instincts refused to trust a man without a face so easily. The other residents of the mansion you now called home were a mixed bunch, some incredibly friendly, and others with glares that made you want to turn into a puddle, even if the kinder ones assured you they meant no harm. So, needless to say, adjusting to this new lifestyle wasn't exactly easy.
Slender had been doing his best to keep his eyes on you, as he always did with the new recruits. He'd made sure you were keeping on a healthy schedule, had encouraged the others to work at becoming friends with you, and made sure you were eating and staying hydrated, however... He could sense your innate fear and distrust of the situation. He could see it in your body language and sense it seeping off of you as you went about your days in the mansion. He wanted to try and appease your worries and get to the root of them, and so he'd invited you to his office to have a little session together, although, as you sat before him in the enclosed space, you seemed more nervous than ever.
-
"Is there anything I am able to do to appease and soothe your worries?" His voice, reverberating inside your head and startling you, had you jolting as you looked up at him. Despite having no face, it appeared that if he had brows, they'd be furrowed in concern.
"I- I don't... I don't know if- do you always speak in our minds? I don't know how to... I'm just so nervous here, there are so many people..! Some of them are... Different? No, that's rude, isn't it? They're just- This is all so-!" Your words were tumbling out in a nervous ramble, and he raised his hand to silence you before his voice could be heard in your mind again.
"As for your remark on how I communicate, unfortunately, in this form I am only able to communicate inside your mind. I do have a human form I use as a disguise, however, I feel it would be best if you could get used to being around me in this form. It is the one I will primarily be in, after all." He paused for a moment, and you gave him a short nod, and he continued.
"I can understand your nervousness around the group of people residing here. Some of them are inhuman, and all of them have things about them that make them 'different', as you said. However, I assure you they mean you no harm, and that they can do you no harm. As was listed in the contract you signed, one of the house rules is that inhabitants may not cause injury, especially life-threatening, to any other inhabitants. Some of the rowdier ones may bicker and fight on occasion, but I don't think you have to worry about that."
You swallowed as you listened to him speak, nodding your head every now and then to prove you were listening. You'd recalled the rule he mentioned, rule number one on the thorough document he'd had you sign when he'd brought you back here. While it calmed you a little to know that none of them could truly harm you, there was still the issue of existing around all of these strangers, strangers that were just as damaged and used by society as you were, and it didn't make you relax at all to think about that. Slender seemed to sense your worries, and he sighed, reaching his hand out towards you. After a moment of hesitation, you placed your own on top of it, and a strong, soothing sensation washed over you.
"A gift... From my mother. I can forcibly soothe the worries of the soul, but I rarely use it as it's bad to tamper with them too much." You looked at him in awe, waves of comfort and ease washing over your mind as you continued to maintain contact with him.
"That's... Incredible." You finally said after a moment. There was no fear as you looked at him now. There was no fear as you glanced around his confined office, either.
In your moment of calm, you were able to notice things now that you'd blocked out before. The collection of mugs on a nearby shelf, most of which had a variation of "World's Best Dad" written on them. Photos lining walls and shelves of all the people you'd come to know, all of them smiling and happy. Books, wondrous looking books, lining the spare space in his room, books so enticing you'd wanted to leap up and look at them. You felt at peace, calmed. You'd felt at home in that moment. You glanced back at him, and he nodded at you, placing his other hand over yours as the calming sensation began to leave your body, however, when it was gone... None of your fear returned.
"It's scary here to a newcomer, I know... I try to do my best to comfort you all, to make you feel at home. I'd like this place to become that for you, a home for you to rest in, and feel happy and comforted in. There will be hard days, and angry days, and loud ones, quiet ones. But they're days that we all spend as a family." His face trailed to the various pictures along the room that you'd just been entranced by moments before. "I will do my best to provide a home to you, so I hope you can do your best to settle down. If you need any further assistance or someone to talk to, you may return to me if you wish. Or, perhaps, try leaning on one of your newfound friends as well. They've all got their own stories from their first days here, and I'm sure they'd be happy to share."
He patted your hand before releasing it from his own, and you thanked him for his words. He'd told you that you were free to leave if you wished, and so you stood, thanking him again, before politely scurrying out of the room. You took a deep breath as you closed the doors behind you, and looked around you. The corridors that once scared you felt a touch more welcoming, and you took another deep breath as you promised yourself that you would try your best to fit in here. If only you could memorize the pattern of the moving rotations of the rooms and floors of the mansion. Perhaps that would be your first question if you could figure out how to get downstairs.
#creepypasta#creepypasta headcanons#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta scenario#creepypasta scenarios#creepypasta x reader#slenderman#slenderman headcanon#slenderman headcanons#slenderman x reader#slenderman scenario
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