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saphirered · 1 year

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Hiii I love ur writing!

I would love to see a Percy x reader where they both kinda hate each other in the beginning but eventually fall in love, if that makes sense? Maybe a rivals to lovers thing

Hope that makes sense! Love ur work :D

Thank you deary! I love a little rivals to lovers moment so I hope you enjoy this one! 😘

You are completely and utterly infuriating. Percy has a multitude of enemies in his life, upon whom he wishes horrible things but you are not a common enemy. You are not a friend either. He does not wish an ill fate to befall you. What he does wish for, is your projects falling apart at the seams, your wine to taste sour and food to be bland, your ink to forever run out, your notes to be messed up, that one tool you need to be missing or just barely out of reach. Percy wishes no harm upon you but he does wish for the most petty things to befall you. Were he anyone else he might feel some kind of way but he just happens to be a petty individual from time to time and when it comes to you, you are no exception.

Percy doesn’t quite know where it began or when it might end. He cannot remember a time before, where you might have been on less rivalling terms. You’ve just always been so damn you and you can get under his skin like no other with your stupid perfection and incredible mind. Your clever and eloquent words always hit him just the wrong way and you make his blood boil. Where he turned a tinkerer, you turned to magic. You’re a damn prodigy and you have no issue with rubbing it in his face. You just had to get involved in Whitestone politics, didn’t you? You just had to be fundamental in the city’s protection. You just had to rub it in his face you were here when he wasn’t.

Your skills to disturb his peace just when he needed it are impeccable. Percy was enjoying a late lunch in the dining hall alone after a busy morning and afternoon of tinkering and meetings. You had been entirely absent all day, nowhere to be found. Despite what he might have thought the lack of your presence irked him. He brushed it off as some expectation you might jump out to ruin his day at some point but you never did. Percy would deny it if ever faced with it but he grew worried at your lack of presence. Perhaps you overslept. Completely unreasonable for you as you rise at the crack of dawn and are never a minute late to anything. You’d missed two meetings you were set to attend. No page had come to notify him of your undoubtedly expertly worded excuse. No word of you came at all. And when those meetings came to an end nobody had batted an eye at your lack of attendance. Did everyone know but him? Was this some sort of trick? Another petty thing to get back at him for something he might have said or done?

Think of the devil and they shall appear. You enter the dining hall and beeline for the decanter and glasses. You fill one and drink, then fill it again with a deep sigh. You lean against the table a little too much as you shuffle over to grab a plate and pile some of the food leftovers still set out; some bread and some fruits, Percy notes. Not your usual choices. If anything you seem entirely careless about the contents. He notes your appearance. You look disheveled. Your clothes are crinkled and you’re sweaty. Your eyes are sunken and your expression is grim. Your shoulders are slumped and there’s a shake to your hands that are usually so steady. You look exhausted.

“What hell hole did you crawl out of?” Percy says with his usual snark and casually sips his wine. He expects a quick-witted retort. You bite your tongue and shake your head as you drop some grapes on your plate.

“I’m not in the mood for your quips, Percival. If you’re looking for a fight I suggest you go find your friends and ask them to kick your ass into the next realm.” You grumble picking up your plate now filled and taking another large swig of your drink before you pour a refill.

“Day drinking already? I recall you saying those are the actions of idiots and alcoholics.” You give him a look, in particular his own glass very much filled with the burgundy liquid yours holds as well.

“So which one are you? Idiot or alcoholic?” You retort and Percy swears he notes the faint twitch at the corner of your lips.

“Any one who does not question his sanity is the furthest from it.”

“The same could be said about anyone who holds a cup and proclaims themselves not a problem drinker.” He snorts and rolls his eyes. You look between him and the exit. Your exhaustion shows and with a shake of the head more to yourself than him you take to the seat opposite of him. You sit down gracelessly, push aside the cutlery, put your elbows on the table as you cross your arms and lean on them. The moment you sit down there seems to be some kind of relief rushing through you, similar to that of muscle ache. What had you been up to? Percy wants to find out.

“You neglected your duties to the council today.” It’s a statement not a question. You just pick up a grape and pop it into your mouth musing a shrug. “Did you oversleep?” The jab is almost belittling and you shoot him a look to remind him of your first statement; you really aren’t in the mood for this.

“I was otherwise occupied. Now may I please eat in silence?” The expression, the tiredness in his eyes makes him almost regret his pervious words. What has caused you to be like this? He’s never seen you so-so beyond yourself. You’ve always been the image of composure and expertise and now, you’re almost seem vulnerable, weak, almost human and not just the picture perfect creature you’d set your appearances as. You’re a person, not just some devil sent straight from the hells to make his life a living nightmare. You’re real.

“If you wish…” He pushes around his food with his fork while you tear bits and pieces off the bread and eat them slowly. You’re too tired to eat. You look like you’re about to fall asleep right here on this very table, or at least deliberating whether you could justify it. You both eat in silence for the next few minutes. Percy has cleaned his plate and reaches for the decanter to pour some more wine. You’re confused when he refills your cup too.

“Are you alright?” Percy asks out of the blue and you might as well have been shot by one of Vex’s arrows given your surprise. You choke on your bread and cough.

“Excuse me?” You wheeze and recompose yourself. You look for any kind of deceit or malicious intent, anything that might explain the undertone of his question because you are pretty damn sure that sounded an awful lot like worry.

“Are you alright?” The second time he repeats it does not ease quell your confusion. Still sounds like worry. Why the hell would he have any reason to be worried about you? You two have been nothing but a menace upon each other’s lives. You never had anything nice to say about each other. You constantly question each other’s skill, motives and credibility. You constantly undermine and try to outperform each other. That’s not to say you have not enjoyed any of it, and you remember the looks of satisfaction and pride well when either of you stand victor over the other. You’d never expect worry to be an expression associated with Percy in the context of you. Worry means concern and concern is rooted in care. And that train of thought sends you down a spiral. Does he care? Do you care? Maybe you do. Anyone’s life grows a little duller without their competition nearby, right? That’s just a poor excuse. How do you even answer his question? Honesty.

“No.” You speak before you can think but you know it’s true. You’ve been pushing yourself too far the past few weeks.

“Will you be alright?” When you answered Percy swears something within him reminisces of glass breaking.

“I don’t know.” You chuckle to yourself and think for a second. “Do you know you’re the first person to ask me that and and got the real answer? What does that say about me?” The latter you ask yourself.

“You’re exhausted. Rest.” You’ve heard those words before but not from him. “I can’t very well argue with you when you’re about to pass out onto your lunch.” There’s a light quip in there but it’s far more playful than the ones you’re used to. It’s far more lighthearted than you have ever exchanged.

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? What’s your record? Sixty-five hours without a minute of sleep before you decided a nice risotto would make a comfortable pillow?”

“You keep reminding me. As you keep reminding me that your record is set at sixty-seven hours and twenty-four minutes and thus you have bested me even in sleep deprivation.” He manages a chuckle as do you.

“Are these the petty victories we have come to? Have we no better achievements left?”

“Well, I’ve killed a dragon. You?” He deadpans though there’s no real seriousness about the brag.

“You and your friends killed a dragon, together. You still got four more to go. Don’t get ahead of yourself, dear.” You wink and swirl your wine leaning back in your seat. Though exhausted the tension begins ebbing away. Who knew it was Percy that would be a comfort and bring peace to the chaos of your life.

“It’s still one more than you. Besides, we’ll have killed the other four in time.” You shrug and flick a grape at him. It bounces off his arm and rolls on the table. Before you can claim it back Percy puts his hand over it and prevents you from getting it. He cups it as you try to pry his fingers apart and gets it out of your reach lest you disgrace yourself even further and lean over the table to attempt to take it from him. He grins victoriously and pops the fruit into his mouth. You mutter some kind of curse under your breath and he just looks at you innocently.

“Of course, you take your sweet time skinning some dragons while I keep this city safe hidden from their senses. Tell me, how many lives saved every day counts against the slaying of a dragon? What’s the conversion rate? You’re schooled in mathematics and economics are you not?” You point a finger at him and Percy is sure he has the perfect retort for your statement but then the gravity of it hits him. You’ve been the one keeping up this city-wide illusion. You’ve been the one keeping Whitestone safe in his absence. That’s why you weren’t at the meeting today and that’s why he wasn’t informed. Gilmore and Allura were there, you weren’t. He doesn’t know why it took him two days to figure out no three of you were seen in the same place since he returned from the Feywild. He had known the illusion was there, he passed through it for goodness’ sake. He just never considered that’s what you’d be doing. It’d gone over his head you’d use your skills not to fight but to protect instead. You’d not reach for glory or selfish gain but you’d do what is best for the people. You’d still risk yourself for every soul in Whitestone. You’d been doing so for weeks and you had not flaunted it in his face once during your interactions. How did you end up the one protecting him? Why did you not gloat? Why do you not mention this fact even now?

“You’ve been pushing yourself beyond your limits, for Whitestone? For us?” He asks breathlessly. The meaning behind those words becomes very real now they are spoken, and the statement is undeniable. The playfulness disappears and a a gloomy sorrow overcasts instead. Still you manage a cocky grin with a raised eyebrow.

“Well who else is going to keep your precious workshop safe so you can continue constructing the means of a dragon’s demise or while you’re off gathering those pesky vestiges?” Your jest does not make lighter the gravity of your deeds.

“Thank you.” Percy blurts before he recovers. “I mean it. Thank you, for everything. Whitestone owes you a debt.” ‘I owe you a debt’, he leaves those last words unspoken. Percy cannot quite describe what runs through you but he feels safe to assume you have not heard those words before, not on this matter. It’s one thing to know people are grateful for the work you do. It’s another to actually hear them say it. A thoughtful moment of silence passes before you push back your chair and rise.

“I’m going to sleep for the barest amount possible and then I’m going to go back for my next shift and repeat this all over again.” You twirl your wrists and they crack sending shivers up Percy’s spine. You flex your shoulders and same thing happens. He sees the discomfort pass across your features when you push the chair back in its place and lean on the back of it before you walk around the table and make way for the exit.

“Get some proper sleep. I’ll talk to Allura or Gilmore-“ Percy argues but you stop and face him shaking your head.

“They need their rest too if we want this illusion to last.” You counter. You dread every day as this thing eats away at your magic. You don’t know how much longer you can keep doing this but you have to. Every life in this city depends on it.

“There has to be something…” Percy thinks of the ways to help but there’s nothing. He knows next to nothing about the arcane. He’s no mage. He’s a damn tinkerer and he can’t very well fix this with some mirrors or magical charges. He can’t help bear the burden, not as you carry the burden for him. Whitestone should be his responsibility, but he’s out of his depths. He’s helpless, or would be without you to keep pushing yourself far past your limits. He can only imagine what price you’d pay for this over time, or how long you’d be able to keep this going. He’ll have to admit defeat in this particular query.

“You could kill some dragons.” You smile. “But until then, I’d appreciate some company while I drain every resource I have until I can barely stand. If you have the time-“ You imply but an answer is given immediately.

“I’ll make time.” He answers far too quickly. “I’ve come to the conclusion I might like your company far more than I dislike it.” So he has. He cares about you. He looks back upon his life now and he knows it to be true. His pettiness was never born from hatred or dislike. You were perfect, are perfect in his eyes, any imperfection does not chip away at that belief, it is simply part of you. He’s envious of your skill and achievement because he desires to be your equal but felt like he could never be. His pettiness was born from a an unfair coping mechanism and he hopes this is something you two can work on now that veil has been dropped. Perhaps you can discuss as adults rather than bicker like children? He’d like that very much. He likes you. That feel like a disgusting thought he’s still coming to terms with but he knows he can get over himself. He likes you.

“Is this where we kiss and profess our undying love for each other?” And you like him. Gods he doesn’t need a demon’s bargain to figure that one out. He knows your games and your words, he knows how to read those underlying tones and it’s exactly how he sees now; you like him. Never did he think he’d draw that conclusion nor would he think himself anything but a fool for believing it. Maybe he is a fool. A lucky fool he’ll be.

“Perhaps in time.” He retorts. Okay maybe old habits do die hard but given you purse your lips and blow him a kiss, it’s not a habit you want to let die either. It’s perfectly you. It’s perfectly him too.

“I reckon I’ll have you swooning in no time.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a challenge. A petty one at that.”

“If you say so…”

#percy de rolo x reader #percival de rolo x reader #percy x reader #vox machina x reader #legend of vox machina x reader #critical role x reader #tlovm x reader #legend of vox machina #critical role #vox machina #percy de rolo #percival de rolo #critical role fanfiction #critical role fanfic

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hiemaldesirae · 28 days

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i have less than 24 hours left before i have to go through one of the most stressful days of my life so. heres a list of my fav radiostatic fic recs in no particular order

clarification: by radiostatic i mean fics where vox is 100% not the dom in the relationship. most of these dont contain explicit sex though, and im not recommending any straight porn fics here because you can easily find those with a click and search through the bottom vox tag lmao

most of these fics are unfinished, so be warned that i will not take accountability if you get attached to these without them being finished properly. in fact ill just laugh at you because then we'll be suffering together

now, that aside- starting off strong with some of the more popular fics:

RHTVS / Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch

notes: LONG fucking fic. like this guys almost 700k words long fic. one of the best things ive ever read in my life though and it has a plotline thats frankly more engaging than the actual showing of hazbin on amazon. so. you know. if you have the time to read it Please do you wont regret it

Unraveling Emotions by Xaelei

notes: one of my favourite fics ever on god. started my brainrot for dad!husk, portrays one of the most scrumptious radiostatic dynamics and is generally so very well written that i might end up trying to recreate one of the scenes in comic form. genuinely in love with this fic and im so glad i can say i was the first comment on this fic because my God its such a treat to see new chapters drop for this. unfortunately i havent had the time to write out a detailed comment as of now but if someone wants to let the author know that im still in love with their fic and will continue supporting it until i drop dead go ahead for me

Safe with Me by rillyrillo

notes: the prequel and main fic of this series is human radiostatic, though the sequel is set in hell. it comes with gorgeous gorgeous art and frankly one of the most exhilirating endings ive ever had the pleasure of witnessing play out. i recommend you guys check out their other fics too, the art continues in them + their radiostatic is written wonderfully across all universes!

A Month of Rut by Vylad

notes: this fic is very self indulgent to me. i love the way radiostatic is written in this one because theyre very soft and sweet, but others may not prefer it if theyre looking for freak4freak radiostatic. if you just want something to indulge in and relax with at the end of a heavy day though this is my #1 rec. i read this sometimes when i find myself crying at night lmao

Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast

notes: made me sob like a baby. 10/10 no notes whatsoever read it for yourself because you WILL not regret it. i genuinely am always at a loss for words whenever i reread this because it is among the most gutwrenching but beautiful and poetic works that ive ever read and i think it deserves some recognition

Mind the Gap by ZLynn

notes: again, to reiterate, i do very much dislike the abusive!staticmoth portrayal i see in a lot of fics. but in this one... it's written so perfectly, i can definitely see it actually happening. i enjoy the way that val does still seem to care about vox, albeit in his own twisted way that eventually breaks and fractures their love and trust, and its just. Ugh. So fucking good

+ with the less popular but still wonderful depictions of radiostatic that i love to indulge in:

i'll give you a show (cause it helps fill the seats) by dead_and_dreaming

notes: absolutely shameless plug from me for my dear mk's work because i cant stop thinking about the way that she's portrayed al here. its actually insane how fucked up that stupid little deer is and i just. i really fucking love the way that their alastor is written, it's genuinely probably my Number One depiction of alastor ever. i demand more of this stupid little freak RIGHT NOW!!!!

Any of the fics by Rachello344 in the Hazbin Hotel Fandom Tag on their profile

notes: so remember when i told you guys i wouldnt be linking straight porn. looks away... okay in my defense though i read the smut for the characterization and their unique dynamics. its sooo interesting to see how their radiostatic is explored here and im honestly refreshed by the depiction of their relationship. im here for it !!!

The Read 'Em and Weep Series by TooManyPseudonyms

notes: so from what i was able to piece together (everything flies over my head when im reading, forgive me for my low media literacy) this is an au set before the hotel where (in the first work) al and vox are in a qpr relationship. in the second work this evolves into a romantic relationship, and the exploration of their dynamic through this is just... Yeah. please read it its 100% worth your time and so underrated it hurts my heart

Uneasy by Saezs

notes: this fic is one of the first radiostatic fics i read (the others being RHTVS and... i think i tried the 666 series, but it didnt appeal to me lol) and its actually just wonderful. i really love saezs's genderfluid vox and how supportive the other vees are of them <3 their portrayl of the characters puts a smile on my face whenever i reread their work

Heat Waves by HappyPRAWN

notes: i'll be fr dsmptsd hit me like a truck when i read the title but it is such an interesting debut! only at one chapter as of me making this post but the way the author wrote this is so engaging and it really makes me wonder what they have next in store for the fic

Do I have your attention now? by Chi_Chi25

notes: wow no way we have the same name... anyway ahem. ill be completely honest this ones a bit of a guilty pleasure for me. this fic is a bit fragmented and short, so for people who click off fics when they see imperfect grammar this one may not be for you. however if you can look past that, it has an engaging storyline and quite the juicy concept :)

Killer Ex by FanGirl48

notes: gorgeous, gorgeous little human! radiostatic oneshot. i love the relationship that vox and al have here... the reasons why they both stayed away from each other even though theyre still so very clearly down bad for each other... anyway. i think about this one a lot and i still go back to reread it sometimes lol

Negotiations by FanGirl48

notes: i didnt realize until i started making this list that this fic was also written by fangirl48.... go off queen keep feeding us (me). this one was a fic recommended to me initially by link nonny, and i can 100% vouch for how good it is. its got appletv interactions, radiostatic plus lucifer trying to navigate heaven, angels... basically everything needed for a very varied and well packed with flavour story

The diary of a Serial Killer by ShippersCave

notes: okay im running out of brain juice at this point but. yeah this fic is soooo self indulgent to me. this ones another human au, with al as a serial killer and vox as the journalist trying to conduct interviews with him. its got SUCH a good dynamic between al and vox, i encourage you guys to check it out and give it a chance even if youre not really into human aus.

My heart's been pierced by Cupid by ShippersCave

notes: pirate/siren au !!!!!!!!! RAAHH !!!!! i dont have to say anything else for this if thats not enough to get you to click then i dont know what is

System Shutdown by Swoolie

notes: i cant believe i nearly forgot about this one LMAO... vox goes onto a temporary hiatus and everyone goes crazy about it. im not really sure if this counts as radiostatic frankly because of the way its tagged but its so good i think you should give it a read anyway

Together in Radio Static by Anonymous

notes: QPR media husbands radiostatic au !!!! i love this one especially because it opens off with vox slapping alastor across the face for leaving him LMAOO (deserved)

What Has Been by Tianren

notes: another human au (YEAH YEAH I KNOW. JUST HEAR ME OUT OKAY i swear im cooking) look, as someone with religious trauma deeper than i can properly express and the worlds fifteenth worst parental issues, the depiction of vox in this fic just really hits home. i really adore the exploration of voxs past and how the themes of religious guilt and cults are woven in so far- and it blends very seamlessly with their human au, despite the characters eccentricities

you're too sweet for me by awestruck_atrophy and moonbeanies

notes: basically, vox and al make a deal where vox tries to help him out of the shackles or whatever that are bound to him because of his stupid dumbass lusting for power. its very intriguing so far and i love the setup and worldbuilding the authors have done, so you should check it out if you want a unique perspective on radiostatics relationship

candlelight by curtailed

notes: the best way i can think of to describe this one is like... fake marriage but instead of fake marriage its. fake roommates??? the author probably puts it better than me tbh. its super interesting so far, i cant wait to see where this one is headed especially with how unique its premise is!

Zero Day by Anonymous

notes: this one is like those time regression manhwas. you know, the ones where the protag goes back in time and proceeds to try and avoid everyone who made their life miserable- only to fail because for some reason now they're paying attention to them more than they would have had they stayed the same person. its certainly very promising, though! i do love indulging in time regression stories, especially when the mc is someone i love like vox. i really cant wait to see which direction this one is headed in :)

Never as Good as the First Time by IComeForFanficsNowin403

notes: okay. so, uh. um. so- this one is in spanish. HOWEVER its premise (serial killer alastor meets television star (?? i think. its not quite clear) at a party hosted by rosie, moves into his neighborhood to keep an eye on the pretty prey) is just so unique i honestly think its worth the experience to pull out google translate and try living the machine translated life. really. give it a chance. also its got beautiful art to go along with, so.. you know. thats just a bonus!

+ honorary staticmoth and one-sided/past radiostatic fic rec:

Freak-A-Zoid by Femalefonzie

notes: this fic deserves every single piece of praise its ever gotten because good lord. its SO good. i was not seeing the radiostatic twist come in, but it *is* mostly staticmoth. and also a/b/o but i mean. who *hasnt* indulged in a little bit of a/b/o before honestly

there are other fics that i personally like to indulge in, but i frankly wouldnt recommend to anyone else because they're either the kinds of fics that i myself can only bring myself to read after ive spent 8 hours at work crying into my pillow and need to look at something entertaining, or when im starved of content and cant be bothered to cook myself so i pull out the translator and start going at it. (technically i should know how to read french by now but. urgh. anywway..)

#ran rambles #radiostatic fic #radiostatic #fic rec #fanfic recommendation #hazbin hotel #honestly ive probably forgotten a few bangers but my brain is melted by now #if anyone wants to add their own recs feel free. these are just my personal likes #ive read stuff by arctic and addicted ofc but those ones are basically known by everyone afaik lmao. swm is known everywhere too #but thats a bit diff because it is part of an expanding series. so #anyway i didnt like some of the more popular fics like 666 or addicted but i know many people like those #and for good reason too because theyre wonderful! just not to my personal tastes and thats fine

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yeaimsafiya · 1 month

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CHAPTER ONE back from rehab

SYNOPSIS the beginning of a teenage girl named y/n who is fresh out of rehab but doesn't intend to stay clean.

FROM THE WRITER AHH IM SORRY IM LATE GUYS!! This is the first chapter I'm ever writing, I took some inspo from episode 1 but I'm going to have to cut each episode into fourths because I really don't want to spend a whole week trying to finish a whole episode and school work. But I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter as much as I did - Love you guys, Sapiyah <3

WARNINGS Lots of unnecessary writing, female! reader, mentions of drugs and drinking, strong sexual content, nudity, violence, adult content, adult language, scenes might be uncomfortable for some, some scenes might include mentions of mental illness'

SERIES EUPHORIA

CHARACTERS INCLUDED members of the bakusquad & dekusquad, big three(?), some characters of class 1A

NOTES MDNI! Ageless blogs will be blocked or removed.

Readers discretion is advised

Suddenly, the whole world goes dark and nothing else matters except the person standing in front of you.

You were once happy. Content.

Sloshing and swimming around your own private, primordial pool; Then one day, for reasons beyond your control, you were continuously and repeatedly crushed...

Over..and over.. again by the cervix of your mother, M/n.

You put up a good fight, but eventually lost, for the first time, but not the last.

You were born 3 days after 9/11, your mother and father spent two days in the hospital, holding you under the soft glow of the television, watching those towers fall over and over again, until the feeling of grief gave away to numbness.

And then, without warning, a middle-class childhood in the American suburbs.

You were sitting at the dinner table with your mother, M/n, and Father, F/n. But it appeared something else had gotten your attention, a set of numerous lights above the dinner table, in which you wanted to count.

"Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen.."

" What are you looking at y/n?"

"..."

"What are you doing? ..Y-y/n look at me."

"One, two, three, .."

"What are you doing Y/n?"

*cries*

"Id say she's suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder..."

Its not like you were physically abused..

"...attention deficit disorder..."

..Or had some type of clean water storage..

"..general anxiety disorder.."

..Or was molested by a family member.

"..and possibly bipolar disorder. But she's a little bit too young to tell."

So, explain this shit to me.

"Honey, it's just the way your brain was hardwired; Plenty of great, intelligent, funny, interesting and creative people have struggled with the same things you struggle with."

"Like who?"

"Vincent Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, and even Brittney Spears, your favorite!"

You haven't remembered much from the ages of eight to twelve. Just that the world moved fast, and your mind moved slow.

"Does anyone have an idea of what a perception might be?"

And every now and then, if you focused on the way you breathed...

You'd die.

"Slow down, just breathe"

Until every second of the day, you'd find yourself trying to outrun your anxiety.

"What's wrong Y/n?"

..And quite frankly..

"I'm just fucking exhausted"

Coming down to the kitchen, you could hear the small talk between your mother and younger sister, S/N.

"You said the doctor was in our network. How can he suddenly be out of network?"

"I can't afford it."

"Did you see that video of the girl who got acid thrown at her face?"

"What? No.."

"It's pretty fucked up.."

"Mom do you know where the tampons are?"

"In my bathroom, right under the sink."

And at one point, you'd make a choice of who you are and what you want.

"Alright Gia, let's go"

"Why do the co-payments cost $300?"

"Y/n did you eat breakfast?"

".."

"What's with the glasses?"

"What glasses?"

You just happened to show up one day, without a map or a compass..

"Attention students, we need to lockdown."

..Or to be honest, anyone capable of giving on iota of good fucking advice.

And I know it all seems sad but guess what? You did not build this system up, nor fuck it up yourself.

But then it happens. That moment where your breath starts to slow. And every time you breathe, you breathe out all the oxygen you have.

Then everything stops: Your heart, your lungs, then finally, your brain. And everything you feel, you wish, and want to forget, it all just sinks.

And then suddenly... you give it air again, give it life again.

You remember the first time it happened, where you were so scared you wanted to call 911. Go to the hospital and be kept alive by machines and apple juice. But you didn't want to look like an idiot, and you didn't want to fuck up everyone else's night.

And now overtime, that's all you've wanted.. those two seconds of nothingness.

You spent a good portion of summer before junior year in rehab. God granted you the serenity to accept things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

"Y/N," your sister yelled from afar, greeting you after your long leave. You smiled, and whilst running up to her, tried to continue the conversation with your younger sibling.

"Hey, Come here!"

"How are you?"

"Good, I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Look at you, are you growing?"

"No."

Looking over, you see your mother standing by your family car.

"Hey," you yelled out to her, only to receive a small smile from her.

And with that. you knew it was your time to go.

"I'm very happy for you Y/n. You're about to start a brand-new chapter," Your mother says while driving you and your sister to school. You looked at her with a smile, then turned your attention back to the car window.

You had no intentions of staying clean. And yet, Jirou just moved into town.

"There's some new girl in town that I think you'll be friends with," Shoto said, with you standing beside him in his store.

"Who?"

"Shit, I don't know. She came in looking all punk rock and shit; So I'm thinking to myself, like, 'look like somebody Y/n would be friends with'."

Which was sort of a dead-on observation for Shoto, who's not normally revolving in the same direction as planet earth.

"So how long have you been back?" He asked.

"About five days."

"And how are you feeling?"

"I mean, ever since I gave my life over to my lord and savior Jesus Christ, things have been, like, really good."

"Word? That's what's up," You chuckled at his snarky remark, giving him a small smile.

"I'm fucking with you," you said whilst laughing, "It was a joke."

"Shit, hey, I don't judge," he defended, hands raising to just above his chest.

"But for real, is Deku in the back?"

"Are you serious?" Shoto questioned, seeming very disappointed in you.

"What, you think cause' I went to rehab I stayed clean?"

"I mean, ain't that the point?" he asks.

"Yeah, well, the world is coming to an end, and I haven't even graduated high school yet."

You gave Shoto one more smile before going to Deku, whilst Shoto stared at you the entire way there; There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but since you were too busy looking for Deku, you didn't see.

You opened one of the doors of the refrigerators, leading you right to him with a bowl of fruit loops,"I thought your ass was dead," he said one he saw your appearance.

"And I thought you had Asperger's till I realized your just a prick," you barked back.

"This a fickle industry, y'all come and go. I'm just trying to stack my cash, pay off our mortgage," he said while pulling out a bunch of plastic bags out of a microwave.

"So what the fuck do you want?" You gave him a knowing look before he handed you needed.

"You sure you don't want to try something new?" He asks you.

"Like what?"

"2C-T-2, 2C-T-7, and 5-MeO-DIPT."

"I'm sorry I have no fucking idea of what you just said."

"It doesn't matter," he stated, "but this shit, is fucking lit."

"What is it?"

"N-diisopropyl-5-methoxytryptamine. It's a fast-acting psychedelic."

Got some similarities to LSD, but with, like, key differences. Not as visual as shit, but definitely a sense distorter.

"What's wrong?" That same dark purple hair girl questioned.

"I'm just so happy," you responded back.

"I don't know, this shits been going off in Tampa, and mad people like to fuck with this," Deku continued on with his descriptions with the drug.

"Okay. Yeah, why not."

"That'll be 120."

"Oh uh, Shoto said he'd spot me."

"Shoto doesn't spot nobody."

"Yeah, well, it's a post-rehab discount, so you should ask him."

"I will go ask him, cause' I know your full of shit."

Those were the last words he said before you walked out. Those were the last words you heard before you saw the same two boys in freshman year.

Bakugo and Kirishima.

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spicerackofblorbos · 3 months

Text

Chapter 1: November

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, eventual smut (these update with every chapter)

☾ Author's note ➼ Hey guys! This is my first time writing fanfiction in a loooooong time, like the last time I wrote was probably in 2011. So with that said please be kind with any feedback or comments. I hope you enjoy! (also I made Hange's pronouns she/her/them/they)

Edit (11/27/2023): Hey guys, welcome to my little world of Unspoken Words. I have quite literally used this story as a way to better myself as a writer. As you read on, you may find that I've progressed (ofc I have a long way to go) but because of that, my first few chapters might be rough. With your patience, you may find a liking to this story as I know I've loved writing every word of it.

☾ word count ➼ ~7.1k

20-something years ago

You’re not sure how, but you find yourself sitting in the back of a big, white van. Red and blue lights danced in your eyes, and it felt like a thousand people surrounded you. Something plastic is placed on your face then you are instructed to breathe in deeply. You thought it was funny to be told to breathe, like you don’t just do it naturally, but you follow instructions regardless. It’s hard though, every part of your body hurts, chest included. Every breath you take feels like your insides are on fire.

‘Fire’, you think.

Everything is on fire.

Present Day

Levi stood blank faced as he meticulously cleaned the blender station for what felt like the 100th time today. The late afternoon rush had just tapered down so he took advantage of the next to empty café to clean as much as he could before closing for the evening.

“It’s 20 degrees outside, how are people still wanting frozen drinks.” he murmurs to himself, placing the blender back in its spot. Levi turns to the front counter and slings the towel he was using to dry things onto his shoulder.

His best friend, roommate, and business partner could be seen restocking some books on tall shelves, a gentle smile lighting up his boyish features. It’s been about a year and a half since they started this business venture together and they had no idea at the time how successful their bookstore-café combo would be in this small town.

Erwin’s thirst for knowledge kept their shelves as variable as ever while Levi’s love for perfecting the art of tea kept the drinks flowing. The problem, however, was Levi’s lack of people skills. He was seldom seen at the register, nor would you ever see him smile or talk to the customers. He often would leave you with a grunt and a swift turn after handing off the drinks.

No, for that, they had hired a couple of local highschoolers to do the facing work.

“Mr. Smith, Levi?” a soft voice rang out to the left of him. Levi shifted his attention to a taller girl with shoulder length raven hair standing next to him. Being as Mikasa is his cousin, they found early on how weird it was to be called ‘Mr. Ackerman’ as they shared the same surname. It was this connection too that got them to where they are today.

“Would it be okay if Eren and I take off a little early tonight? We have some big tests coming up and we’d like to take some extra time to study.” Mikasa shifted her dark eyes to the darkening windows as the sun set just over the horizon. Pinks and oranges flooded the partially clouded skies.

”Tch.” Levi could not help but roll his eyes. He raised a brow at her and leaned back against the counter behind him for support. “Sure, I guess,” he continues. “But do you really need it or is it for that blockhead?”

As if summoned by his words, Eren comes up from behind Mikasa and wraps a red scarf around his girlfriend’s neck, both of their jackets hanging off one of his arms. Eren is a good kid, always on time and followed directions, but the amount of sass he held in his body was something else. Levi and Erwin did not mind though, as he added a certain energy in the café that the customers seemed to enjoy. The two men wouldn’t say it out loud, but they really appreciated having them both on the team.

“Hey, I heard that. And yes, I need to study desperately. Econ is so hard and for what?!” Eren’s teal eyes widened for emphasis. To add to it he even put on a fake pout.

“I-”

“Just take the trash with you on the way out and you’re good to go.” Erwin piped up from behind a bookshelf.

Mikasa nodded in acknowledgement towards the voice, a silent thank you. Like Levi, she was not one for many words. He once thought it was an Ackerman thing but then he thought back to his annoying uncle and changed his mind quickly.

With that, she and Eren both untangled the aprons from their bodies, grabbed their belongings, and picked up the trash bags that were already taken out of the cans. They opted to leave through the back since the dumpsters were located that way. Again, Levi wouldn’t say it to anyone out loud, but he really did like those kids.

Erwin could be heard stacking more books into the shelves which left Levi to polish the counters again. It was the last hour before they closed so it stayed quiet for the most part, only interrupted by the sounds of scuffling shoes and books being placed on hard surfaces. Light jazz filled the rest of the silence. Then the bell signifying new customers rang from the front.

“Levi, can you grab that?”

The raven-haired man just huffed in response then stepped over to the register. His eyes fell on two figures right in front of him. A frazzled brunette and... you.

Due to the season, you are bundled up in a thick parka and knitted beanie. A big scarf wraps around your neck and face so that all Levi could see is your flushed cheeks and thick lashed eyes. Truthfully, you reminded him of a marshmallow.

“What’ll it be?” he asks, deadpan. The brunette is the one to respond, the voice loud enough to make him wince.

“Hmmm... well one English breakfast tea latte with lots of room for sugar aaaaand I’ll take a peppermint hot chocolate. Oh, and extra whip! We’ll drink it here.” She fished out a card with a dramatic thwip and handed it to Levi’s outstretched hand. Their café is one of those where if you were to stay, they offered washable cup ware as to keep the prices down on disposable cups. Not to mention the lessened ‘environmental impact’ as Erwin would say.

Levi glances at you before turning to make both orders. You give a small wave and smile a little, but he was already working quickly on the drinks.

He went into autopilot as he steeped the tea and steamed the milk. He really appreciated customers that ordered anything outside of coffee, especially when it came to tea. It’s not that he hated coffee, though it’s not like he liked it either, but it just wasn’t his thing. Coffee offered a different kind of bitterness that he wasn’t very fond of. With extra whipped cream in one and extra space in the other, he whirled around to place the drinks on the counter.

The one with glasses is the one that picks them up and they promptly walk in the direction of where you currently sit, one of the tables in the back corner by the window. You were stripped of your big parka and scarf, though the beanie stayed. Your eyes were wandering around the café in wonder, and Levi was pretty sure this had to be your first time here. But truthfully, he wouldn’t know, he didn’t make it his business to know his customers. That was Erwin’s and the kids’ job.

“The shelves are full and I’m exhausted.” Erwin came around the counter with a couple of empty boxes in his arms, heading straight for the back to the dumpster. Levi stepped back and leaned against the counter once again, his own black tea that had steeped while making yours cradled in his fingertips. He kept looking at his only customers while he sipped the black liquid. The teacup almost slipped out of his grip as he saw you dumping a large amount of sugar into your cup.

There you sit, extremely focused on the cup in front of you and lips pressed together tightly, almost as if you were afraid you’d put in too much. The sight would have been funny if you hadn’t just ruined your entire tea, he thinks to himself. You smile to yourself in satisfaction and put the sugar jar back where it came from. While you stir the sweetener in gently, the brunette in front of you talks animatedly. Hands were flying everywhere, and Levi could practically feel the energy radiating from the corner of the room. You were doing the same, silently laughing.

Suddenly the front door flew open, the bell ringing loudly with it. Levi grits his teeth, steeling himself for yet another customer interaction. But his shoulders dropped in relief at the sight of only Carly, Erwin’s girlfriend. She saunters up to the counter with a big smile aimed towards Levi and without even asking she slid behind the bar. Erwin had already made it from the back and was in the process of putting away the leftover ingredients from the day. Carly wraps her arms around her boyfriend and plants a big kiss on his face, to which Levi quickly looks away. It wasn’t weird for her to come in right as they were about to close.

What was weird, he thought, was the shock that flooded your face as you eyed the very public display of affection. Levi knit his brows in confusion as the brunette pivoted in her seat to see what you were staring at. Their face fell, any evidence of a good time completely erased.

“Carly?”

The person in question whipped around so fast at the voice and the panic that exuded from her was palpable. She quickly unwrapped herself from Erwin’s embrace.

“Hange.”

If it wasn’t for the jazz in the background, the lengthy silence that followed would have been deathly.

Carly clears her throat and laughs awkwardly.

“Uh, why are you here?”

The person named Hange just lifts their hot chocolate cup awkwardly, not really saying anything. Their eyes shift between Carly and Erwin, clearly understanding what had happened.

“I-I’m sorry, you guys know each other?” Erwin sounds cautious, like he already knew the answer. Of course, he would, he isn’t dumb. His piercing blue eyes survey the situation, going back and forth between the two.

“Well, uh. I-” Carly stutters, clearly at a loss of what to say in the predicament she found herself in.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Hange claims calmly.

This admission makes Erwin sigh heavily, confirming what he had pieced together. Levi stared at him in bewilderment as the man just chuckled quietly.

“Well. I suppose that’s it then.” And with that he turns on his heel and stalks off to the back room.

“Wait, Erwin I can explain!” She follows right on his heels and disappears into the back room as well. A minute later you can hear hysterical crying and calm retorts reverberating from the back. If Levi could shrink into the cabinets to get out of this situation, he would. Instead, he focuses on the other party who were having a very quiet and rushed discussion. Well, a one-sided discussion, as he only heard one voice.

Levi, realizing it was almost time to close anyways, rushes to close the distance between him and the front door. He really did not want to have to deal with other customers while the drama unfurled. So, he flips the door sign to ‘Closed’ and unplugs the ‘Open’ neon sign hanging in the window. A couple walks by about to open the door, probably out for a café date from the looks of it. But they were only met with a dead stare from the sharpest eyes they’d ever seen. With that, they briskly turned around and left down the sidewalk.

Levi spins around and from here he gets a better look at the two trapped customers. You were moving your hands all over the place like you were earlier. But with an even closer look he realizes you weren’t just talking animatedly with your hands; you were talking with them. You were signing.

You reacted to your partner’s conversation just fine, so it was clear you had some sort of hearing. Your scarf now hung loose around your shoulders, and it looked like you had tears brimming in your eyes. Levi swiftly walks back to the counter; this is obviously not a conversation he needed to be a part of.

“Hey, don’t worry about me. It’s only been a couple of months. Really, it’s better to find out now than 3 years from now.” They laughed without humor. You know when Hange was saving face for your sake, she was never as sly as she thought she was.

‘You don’t need to be strong right now.’ You sign then reach your hand out to touch her cheek softly. Physical touch had become your second language early on, if only to emphasize. Fortunately, Hange was okay with that and often embraced it with open arms.

“I know, my little strawberry. I just need some time to process everything.” They pat you on the head lightly with a small grin. You swat their hands, blushing at the nickname you were so graciously given so many years ago. But you nod back, knowing they would not change their mind.

The tall blonde glides through the back door, alone. His face was grim as he tugged loose the tie around his neck.

“Hange, was it?” He started walking towards you and your very startled sister.

“U-uh yeah. That’s my name! Listen I had no idea, I’m so sorry. I would have said something obviously but-”, they take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. What’s your name again?”

“Erwin Smith. There is nothing to apologize for as I can only assume there’s only one blame to be given. I hate that we must meet under such a circumstance, but it is truly nice to meet you.” He raises a hand waiting for a handshake.

Hange takes it after a second of processing, shaking the hand vigorously with both hands.

“Well, unfortunately it is what it is. I’m sure Carly and I will be speaking soon. I’m assuming she’s not just hiding back there.” They flick their gaze to the back door he had just come through.

“Ah well, yes. Long gone... how long were you two...?”

“Only like, 3 months or so. You?”

He flinched at that and murmured, “3 Years.”

Thinking back to her comment not 10 minutes ago, Hange bit their cheek.

“Oh man I’m so sorry.”

“No, please. It’s alright. None of this is yours or my fault. We couldn’t have known, but now we do.” Erwin chuckled to himself. You wonder if he’s trying to save face the way your sister did. His gaze now shifts to you. He is a very handsome man. To your extreme surprise, he starts signing to you.

‘I'm sorry, who might you be? I noticed you signing earlier. I know a little from the books I have read.’ His crystal blue eyes sparkle at you as he signs. You can’t help but break out into a huge grin. You sign your name back and compliment him on his raw signing form.

‘I am of hearing, though. So please feel free to talk, and I will sign back.’ You clarify to Erwin, the smile not falling from your face.

“That sounds like a plan. Levi, stop hiding behind the counter and come say hi.” Erwin calls out, not bothering to look over his shoulder. You hear a grunt in response and not 10 seconds later, the barista stands cross armed next Erwin. He nods a hello to each of you.

You knew he was shorter than you, at least a couple inches, based off the interaction at the counter earlier. But seeing him side by side with his friend was almost comical. But as short stature as he was, it did not keep him from holding himself with such authority. It made you nervous.

‘Thank you for the tea, it was very good.’ You sign, your sister translating in real time for you.

“Tch, are you sure? I saw you dump enough sugar in it to make it syrup.” Levi retorts dryly.

That makes you smile sheepishly. His fixated stare unnerved you a little, but you stare back regardless. Now that he was closer, a glass case no longer between the both of you, your eyes traveled along his face in close inspection.

He’s beautiful, you think to yourself. His features are sharp and angled. Steely gray eyes pronounced a permanent exhausted look. It was a shade of gray you’ve never seen before, and they were mesmerizing. As if he could feel you staring holes in his face, he flicks his eyes to the side, clearly uncomfortable. But you can’t help it, because really the most intriguing thing about him was not his metallic eyes. It was the scars that marred his porcelain skin.

A couple of scars ran down the right side of his face. The prominent of the two trailed from the top right of his forehead all the way down to his chin, cutting into his right eye and both lips. You’re pretty sure his eye was quite damaged due to the slight muted discoloration of the eye color.

He’s beautiful, you repeat to yourself. You glance over to Hange, and they just look over at you with a knowing look. You know she was just begging to ask Levi too, but she just shakes her head. So, you fold your hands together and pinch your lips together.

“Well!” Hange yells out, breaking the silence. “This human really needs a drink. Let’s all go! Erwin, I demand you let me treat you to a couple drinks!” She wraps an arm around your shoulders and laughs.

“A drink sounds fantastic; I will gladly take you up on that offer. Let me just close up rea-” He’s cut off by Levi raising both of his hands up in protest. You notice the two missing fingers on his right hand. The pointer and middle were gone. Whatever this man went through, you just had to know. But you toss those questions onto an ever-growing pile and bite your cheek.

“Erwin, I can close up. You go ahead.” Your sister just smiles widely and practically jumped up and down. The blonde man just clapped his hand Levi’s shoulder and smiled at him.

“Thank you. You’ll join us after? The usual place?” Levi just shrugs his shoulders in response.

Part of you hoped he would. You couldn’t place a singular reason why though.

Fifteen minutes later, the three of you found yourselves in a well-lit and very crowded bar. Somehow Erwin had snagged a table near the back wall. Heavy rock blares loudly from a live band maybe 20 feet away. Overwhelming was an understatement, but you grit your teeth and sit down on one of the stools.

“Whatcha want, my darlings?!” Hange yells over the music, slapping both hands down on the table and staring at the both of you.

“Whiskey neat, whatever they offer is fine.”

You sign the words ‘apple’ and ‘juice’ followed by a ‘thank you’. You’ve never been one for a drink. While it was tolerable to be around, you’d rather not have to taste it if you could help it.

Looking around, you see all manners of people surrounding you. Something about it makes your stomach turn but you shift in your seat to quell it down. You’re sure it’s only so crowded because of the prospect of a Friday night and the promise of no plans the following day. The town of Jinae was not anything special, but it was quaint. You and your sister found out quickly it was a place where everyone knew mostly everyone. After only settling down here from your hometown 5 months ago, you were still learning of all the local spots.

From the looks of it, this bar was one of those. “The Scouts” was an inviting place, decorated with dark greens and wood tones. The walls were littered with many frames of a lot of different people. You imagine it might have been local residents in various locations of the town. All of the wood was worn down, so it was clear this place has been in business for a while. A neon sign hangs above the stage where the live band played, something that resembled blue and white wings. It makes you wonder what the significance is.

Your thoughts are disturbed as a glass is placed in front of you. Realizing the dryness in your throat, you pick up the glass and take a big swig of the amber liquid. You’re met with a burning sensation, and you gag. This alerts Hange of the unfortunate mistake.

“Ah I’m sorry my little strawberry!! They do look quite similar though, don’t they?” They switch the glasses quickly and laugh. You notice the very noticeable cup size differences between the two and you stare at her quizzically. “I may have taken a shot while at the bar, sorry.” she adds on. It makes you shake your head, but you grab her hand reassuringly and chuckle.

‘I’m sorry.’ You sign at Erwin, and he just smiles back.

“Not a problem. But I have to ask, how was it?” A bushy eyebrow raises at you in amusement.

You just stick your tongue out and make a gagging gesture at him. You laugh though, not really upset.

Two apple juices in, the live band ends. Hange and Erwin are very deep in conversation, which you suspect might be about Carly. You can’t really hear what’s being said though. With the absence of music, chatter quickly fills the air. Honestly it was really starting to get to you. So, after tapping on the pair’s shoulders and signing where you were going, you find yourself leaning over the guard rail just outside the bar’s door.

The sun was already far gone. A crescent moon sits high in the sky and a smatter of stars surrounds it. The cold air felt very welcome on your very flushed face. You exhale a big sigh, which garners a puff of steam. It makes you laugh so you do it again. Then you start to wonder how long you might be able to last out here before getting frostbite when suddenly a body starts leaning against the rail next to you.

With a start, you whip your head to face the newcomer. Instantly you relax at the sight of Erwin’s friend. He was adorned in a big peacoat and his casual slacks. A tan turtleneck sweater peaks out from the jacket’s collar. His face was flushed as well, no doubt from the cold.

Levi.

He wasn’t paying you any mind though, instead his gaze laid upon the sky above, at the stars. You wave at him anyways and offer a small smile. He glances at you with a side eye and returns a curt nod.

Not one for words.

So, you both stand there in silence, staring up at the twinkling lights above. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. Something about his presence radiated a sort of calm, and you were happy to bask in it.

After a few minutes, he shifts his weight in your direction, so you face him. He’s staring up at you and it makes you swallow hard. His eyes glowed silver from the moonlight. Truly you have never been this fascinated with a person until now.

“You like the stars.” It wasn’t a question, more like a statement.

You nod in agreement, smiling to emphasize your love for them. He purses his lips at that. It seemed as if he wanted to say something else to that, but nothing came out. It just makes you frown a bit. You just have more questions that keep piling up. Everything about him just emanated mystery and it made you want to know all about him.

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to him, exaggerating your frown to show your concern. You’re only met with a look of confusion. You forget that he does not know much if any sign. And you kick yourself for leaving your communication tools at home. To be fair though, this is not where you expected to be tonight.

You then get an idea to use your phone to type to him but before you even reach into your pocket, you’re interrupted by a sudden blast of warm air as a couple stumbles out of the bar, both in a giggling fit as they cling to each other. They take off down the road, laughing even harder. The brief warm air makes you shiver, reminding you of the cold outside.

As if thinking the same thing, Levi catches the door before it closes and holds it open for the both of you. You’re suddenly well aware of the very loud singing happening from within and your eyes widen at the familiarity of one of the voices. You and Levi make your way to the voices and are greeted with the sight of Erwin and Hange duetting a Backstreet Boys song.

What a sight it was. The tall brunette, face flushed and glasses askew, had their arm around Erwin. He his blonde hair was quite tousled, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. They both swayed together as they belted out the lyrics. As if their smiles were contagious, you felt yourself grin. It was kind of cute. So, you pull out your phone and snap a quick picture, sure to show Hange in the morning. It was a good thing too, because the song ends right as you put your phone away in your bag. Levi clicks his tongue and huffs. You glance over at the noise and notice a small upturn to the corner of his scarred mouth. Noticing your gaze, his face vacates itself from any emotion as he stares back ahead.

“Oi! Eyebrows!” He calls out to his friend. Levi starts making his way to the stage, walking with a slight limp. Yet another question to add onto the pile. “I’m gone for 45 minutes and you’re already singing.”

“I’m fine! Just a couple drinks in.”

You all make your way to the table you had laid claim to earlier. You survey the table and count at least 6 more glasses, not counting your two. It was hard to see who drank what.

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to your sister, concern etched on your face. They just nod lazily and give a thumbs up with both hands. Levi is regarding you with a look of understanding, and it seems he realized that you had asked him outside. Music starts playing over the speakers again, and people start making their way to the dance floor. Hange squeals and downs the rest of her drink quickly.

“Erwin let’s go!” She grabs his arm, not waiting for a response. He gives a mock salute to the two of you and follows without question. Levi just clicks his tongue again and heads to the bar to get himself something. So, you plop yourself down on the stool and stare out into the room. Out of nervous habit you start fidgeting with the napkins in front of you. A moment later, Levi’s hobbling over with a tray of drinks.

“I got the idiots some water, they look like they need it.” He places the glasses down with a thud, including one of his own housing some sort of caramel liquid. Then he’s sliding something over to you and you’re about to protest that you don’t drink but you realize it’s not a glass. It’s a notepad and pen.

“If you need something, this might come in handy.” is all he says.

You’re quick to show your appreciation with a bright smile. You also note to yourself that you could have very well have used your phone to communicate but you were not one to disregard someone’s thoughtfulness. It makes something bloom in your chest, warm and comforting.

Your many years of not having a phone of course meant writing – a lot. Your handwriting evolved plenty with time so that meant it was extremely neat. It had to have been so that the reader would be able to read it without an issue.

First you write your name, as you realize no one had really said it out loud while at the teashop. Following that you add ‘I think your shop is wonderful, and I really did enjoy the tea you made.’ You also want to jot down the questions from earlier that were still swimming in your mind, but you hold yourself back. You tell yourself maybe later, granted if there would even be a later.

When angling the paper so he could see it, his eyes flit across the words quickly and you’re given a grunt in acknowledgement. Pulling back the notepad, you bite the inside of your cheek. While it wasn’t awkward being next to him, he sure made it hard to talk to. His cold demeanor gave you the feeling he wasn’t the type to talk about himself, especially with someone he just met. So, asking questions about him or his life was out the window. Likewise, he did not really seem interested in hearing your life story, not like you were planning to spill it anyways for fear of being met with disdain. You had plenty of experiences with that growing up.

Tapping the pen against your chin, your eyes drift around the bar room. There a multitude of people lingering about, shouting over each other to be heard. A couple sits in a corner, whispering who knows what to each other. Both of their cheeks are flushed and eyes heavy with lust. A handful of people are on the dance floor grinding away, your sister and new friend sticking out like a sore thumb as they dance with reckless abandon. All of this gave you an idea, remembering something you’ve read before many moons ago. You start scrawling on the paper again.

‘Are you a gambling man, Levi?’

You shift the pad back over to him and he glances down again after taking another sip of his spirit. He was holding his glass in a way you’d never seen before and honestly it was a little weird.

“Tch, hardly. Why do you ask?” He looks hard at you as you scratch something else down.

‘I propose a game to pass the time. Let’s make some bets about the random people in this room.’

He looks at you incredulously. You stand your ground, not averting your gaze even a little. When you don’t back down, he just scoffs and shakes his head at you.

“I literally could not care less about these people,” he clicks his tongue. “But I suppose there’s not much else to do so I’ll bite.” Knocking back the rest of his drink, he moves around you to lean back against the wall so that he is facing the rest of the crowd. You shift so that you are doing the same. You don’t overlook the proximity to the shorter man, nor the fact that your arms are almost touching. You start to scribble once more.

‘Winner gets to ask the loser one question.’ As his eyes fall on your words, he seems a little taken aback. Levi seems to think for a moment, like he’s weighing his pros and cons.

“One non-personal question.” He amends. You both nod in agreement. So, your eyes travel around the room, looking for your first target. It falls on a group not so far away.

‘I bet that gaggle of young girls over there are here for a bridal party.’

You point in the direction of the said group. Currently they were taking tequila shots, lime and all. All of them sparkled and were dressed up to the nines, save for the silly little hats adorning their heads. And they were having so much fun.

“No way,” Levi scoffs, “That has to be a 21st birthday. They all look like babies.”

Suddenly someone comes through a parting in the crowd with a tray of assorted colorful drinks garnished with cute little accessories. They all yell in excitement at the sight. One of the girls raises her glass and starts shouting.

“To Estelle! May your married life be full of infinite love, happiness, and orgasms!” They all cheer and take big gulps of their drinks, followed by more giggling.

Levi glances art you, his gray eyes dull in the dim bar light. An eyebrow lifts at you as well.

“How did you know?”

You do a sweeping gesture starting from one shoulder down to the opposite hip. He looks back over to the women and conveniently the soon-to-be-bride had faced your direction. She was indeed wearing a white sash sporting the word ‘BRIDE’ in bright pink letters. He huffs as he rolls his eyes, and you smirk at him in return. You press the pad over to him, already equipped with your question.

Levi scoffs at your question. As promised, it wasn’t very personal. You figured ice breaker like questions were a good start. But his pause made you question if this was a good idea, you didn’t want to run him off or make him uncomfortable. Then he clicks his tongue, and his face softens ever so slightly.

“My favorite hobby, huh? It would have to be cleaning.” He simply states.

Cleaning?

‘Like mopping, dusting, all that jazz?’

“Yeah, it brings me peace. I like the control. Plus, I can't stand filthy things, people, or places. It’s repugnant.” He scrunches his nose at the last statement. A laugh bubbles up and you can’t help but let it loose. You’re shot with a glare and a sharp tone.

“Funny?”

You shake your head no and smile lightly while your hands move adeptly on the pad.

‘Not funny, just amusing because it’s not something I would have expected. It’s different. If it makes you happy then it is an admirable hobby.’

Levi’s looking away from you now. If it wasn’t so dim, you would have seen there was a light dusting of pink color his cheeks and ears. He clears his throat and scans the room for his victim. His eyes land on the couple in the back corner whispering to each other. He notices their not-so-subtle hand movements as they felt each other up. Nodding in their direction, he looks back over to you, leaning close so you can hear.

“I bet that couple will get up in the next 3 minutes and excuse themselves to somewhere private.” Your eyes travel in that direction, only to look away hastily at such an intimate scene. You’re not able to think of a counter-bet because honestly, you’re thinking the same thing. Your eyes settle back to his face, but he’s already looking back at the couple. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t say. Suddenly his face is filled with a satisfied look, only to be replaced quickly with a look of horror. You follow his gaze again, afraid of what you might see.

Fortunately, it’s nothing risqué, as you catch the tail end of the couple slipping into one of the public, unmarked restrooms. But the thought of their future actions was enough to gross you out. Looking back at Levi, you scrunch your face up in disgust. He nods in understanding.

“This is why we don’t use public restrooms, especially in a bar.” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his good hand. “When I said somewhere private, I meant like a residence or something. Filthy animals, unbelievable. They better scrub that bathroom down. Maybe I should tell the bartender when they’re done. Maybe I should help clean.”

His retorts crack you up, your shoulders bouncing from silent laughter. He just stares at you impassively as he runs his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face.

“Well, it’s not like we should ruin their fun. Anyways I suppose I won. Let’s see... what’s your favorite color?”

You part your lips, dumbfounded. This was never an easy question, as you found joy in a lot of different colors. You bite your lip and start writing, but after a couple minutes Levi rips the pad from your hands out of impatience.

salmon

turquoise?

canary yellow!

orange

dark forest gre-

He just looks at you in alarm.

“Just pick one.” he scolds.

You snatch the pad back and scribble down, ‘It’s not that simple!’

“It is to me. White, easy.” You just stare right back at him, not believing what you just heard. Out of all the many shades and hues out there, this man decides the color white.

‘Why?’

“It’s clean.” is the only response you get.

It makes sense, you think. But seriously, this man was so weird. But like you said earlier, it was different and that made it refreshing to you. You start searching for your next bet.

As if in a scene from a movie you’ve seen a dozen times came to life, your eyes snap to a lone woman sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and playing on her phone. A couple seats down, you spot a few men chatting. One of the men is staring hard at the very oblivious woman. You nudge Levi with your elbow, not unnoticing the slight flinch from your touch. You point to the scene, and he is quick to understand.

“I bet when he walks over to her, she’ll get up and leave.” He says confidently.

Trusting your instincts, you scrawl back quickly as you notice the man started making his way towards the woman. Sticking your tongue out at him, you angle the pad to him so he could see.

‘Absolutely not. She’ll tell him off right away.’

To both yours and his surprise, not one moment later she throws the rest of her drink contents onto the man’s head. She gathers her belongings, throws a wad of bills on to the bar, then stomps out of the establishment. The rejected man staggers back to his friends, and they applaud him for his supposed gall. This event left you both stunned. There’s a moment of pause where you and Levi just stare at each other before all hell breaks loose as he starts talking and you start scribbling furiously.

“She walked away, I win.”

‘She threw that drink on him, that’s practically telling him off. And that happened before any walking off.’

“That hardly counts, no words were used.” He scoffs and folds his arms across his chest as he stares hard at you. You weren’t sure if the indignation was real or not, but it was evident in his face.

‘Words are not always needed to convey intent.’ You shoot back at him, shifting your weight to tap your foot defiantly. You would know this of course.

This makes Levi pause. He opens his mouth to say something but then Erwin and Hange came crashing into the little bubble you two had made. Suddenly the sounds of clinking glasses and mindless chatter came rushing in and you took a step back.

“Um, I think Hange might have had a little too much tonight.” Erwin says, to which your attention is drawn to a very drunk Hange. They were a blubbering, sobbing mess. Whining about things that ranged from Carly to her work stress and everything in between. Your sister rarely got this drunk, but you imagine the events from earlier might have been her breaking point. This was a sign to get her home.

You hastily round the table to wrap her arm around you and prop her up. Then after whipping a $20 out of your purse and throwing it on the table in front of the boys, you give them a grateful smile and sign to Erwin.

‘Thank you both for tonight. She and I had a lot of fun. But I need to get her home before she gets worse.’ As if on cue, they let out a loud wail and start sobbing into your shoulder. You shift your body to hold them closer so that you don’t drop them. Erwin grabs your $20 and shoves it back in your purse before zipping it up. He had left you no time to protest as he places a large hand on your shoulder and stares intensely at you.

“Please, let me take care of this. Tell them this was an exceptional time. And to please stop by the café again, we owe each a good, sober talk.” His bright blue eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at you warmly. “It was a pleasure meeting you too. I hope you join Hange on the café visits as well. I think Levi has warmed up to you just nicely.” He wiggles an eyebrow at his friend. Levi just shoves him back and rolls his eyes.

“Tch, fuck off. She’s alright, I guess.” He’s staring at you now, not as cold as before. “You owe me an answer next time we meet.”

You purse your lips at him and shake your head in disagreement.

‘I totally won that, don’t even think otherwise.’ You jot down lazily on the notepad still on the table. It wasn’t as neat, but you were propping up a whole human, you couldn’t help it.

“Are you sure you’re safe to get home okay? We can he-” You cut Erwin off with a wave of the hand. Their spot of choice was actually very lucky, as you only live a few minutes away. And to be honest, you needed the cold air. So, you sign a quick goodbye to your new friends and make your way out.

Walking down the snowy sidewalk, you pat Hange’s head as she grumbles about random things. She opted to walk herself, but you kept your hand in theirs to lead them in the right direction. She only stumbled a few times but overall, you were able to keep a steady pace. You note that before you left, her glass of water had been untouched, so you make a mental reminder to hydrate her before throwing her in bed.

‘Alcohol was not kind to those in their 30s’ you heard their voice say in the back of your mind.

As your steps left crunching noises in their wake, you peer up at the moon and glittering stars. A certain raven-haired and silver-eyed man etched in your brain. You wonder how soon it will be before seeing him again.

‘Levi’ you sign to yourself with a free hand. A smile cemented to your face the whole way home.

☾ Next Chapter: December

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elf-punk · 2 months

Text

Feyd-Rautha Headcanons

As with everyone else on this website, I recently watched Dune Pt. 2 and am besotted with Feyd-Rautha. So much so that I had to write a set of little headcanons, representing some events of the books from his perspective. I’ll be mixing up the movie and book lore a little for this one, with Feyd having spent the first few years of his life on Lankiveil with his parents before they were killed by the Baron. Hope you like it, folks!

The (ill-fated) life of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

Feyd remembers very little of his life before being taken in by the Baron. Sometimes, if he concentrates very hard, a few fragments appear—a warm, smiling woman bending over to pick him up, a toddler timidly boarding a ship surrounded by icy glaciers. An imposing man with a heavy-set beard to looks over and says: “Do not fear the whaling boats, my son. One day they will be yours, this planet will be yours.”

The warm words and embraces of his birth parents become little more than a hazy dream as he grows up on Giedi Prime. Every shred of humanity is brutally stripped from Feyd as the Baron carefully molds the young Harkonnen into a ruthless tyrant.

From the age of 5, a blade is placed in his hands and he is forced to kill a servant for the heinous crime of breathing too loudly. At 7, he is beaten within an inch of his life for looking at a starving slave with sorrow and sympathy.

When Feyd reaches adolescence, he begins to take an interest in women. His uncle takes note and assigns him a swarm of concubines who are among the most beautiful women on Giedi Prime. They dote on him endlessly, but fail to hold his interest, as it's the daughter of a minor nobleman who truly holds him captive. Her name is Neyla, and in her wide, soft-set eyes he sees another future. A future where he escapes with her, sheds the horrors of his daily life, and lives free from the lustful stares of his uncle who he despises with the bitterness of poison.

His secret embraces with Neyla coax out the final scraps of tenderness his hardening heart would ever feel, but it isn't long before the Baron becomes aware of his weakness. In his overconfidence, Feyd petitions his uncle for Neyla’s hand, but instead of a bride, he receives a front-seat view of her beheading. That night, Feyd holds his blade to his own throat, and wonders how hard he would need to press before it cut through his flesh.

Neyla’s death causes something to shift within Feyd. His hatred for his uncle and brother remains, but he is no longer overcome with escapist desires. He is hell-bent on power, obsessed with it. His fighting regimens become brutal and unhealthy and his bloodlust intensifies as every waking moment is spent plotting and scheming against his uncle.

Eventually, his rage boils over, culminating in a disastrous assassination attempt on the Baron. Amused by the boy’s nerve, the Baron forces him to slaughter every woman in the pleasure wing under his watchful and lecherous eye. While Feyd has learned to find a perverse enjoyment in violence, the terror in the last surviving slave-girl’s eyes stirs up the memory of Neyla as she tearfully begged for mercy in the moments before her death. His blade falters for a moment, and he faces his uncle with a curled lip and flaring nostrils before striking the final blow.

When Feyd is informed that he will be taking stewardship of Arrakis, he can barely contain the twisted joy in his heart. His beastly fool of a brother couldn’t lead an operation if it slithered into his bed at night, and failed pitifully to subdue the Fremen, putting the entire Harkonnen bloodline to shame. Feyd hates his brother almost as much as he hates his uncle, and feels a deep pleasure watching him skulk around with his tail between his legs. It’s the recognition that Feyd so desperately craves. A chance to prove myself in the face of the entire Landsraad.

Feyd doesn’t take well to the desert. The dryness of the air, the need to ration water as if it were oxygen, and his general inability to be outdoors in the daytime tests him physically and mentally. Already sickly from the journey across deep space, he spends his first few days on-world in a state of fever and delirium (an embarrassment that his closest servants and concubines conceal under pain of death).

When he faces the harsh desert air, he catches a hint of something vaguely cinnamon tasting—the spice. He isn’t fond of it. It causes his mind to fuzz and glaze over, his thoughts to multiply. As the spice builds in his system, he begins to possess a sharpened awareness of his own past, and if he dare allow it, his future. He sees himself drowning in possibilities, a tiny figure nestled within a grander design stretching deep into the conscioussness of all those who had come before. He shudders. Closing himself off in airlocked chambers, he convinces himself that No Bene Gesserit witch, Guildsman, or Imperial beaurocrat has control over his destiny.

He hears whispers of the Muad’Dib—a fearsome warrior who commands an almost religious frenzy among the Fremen, and is capable of uprooting even the most well-executed Harkonnen desert operation. His heart thrums at the challenge. To defeat such a figure would be something else indeed! This would be unlike his show-fights with drugged prisoners in the gladiator arenas. No, he would fight this Muad’Dib and win, crushing the resolve of the Fremen. He would go down in history as the one who tamed Arrakis.

Silence makes Feyd uncomfortable. He always has a quip or comeback ready, and the deathly silence of the room as he and Paul circle one another is unbearable. He eases his discomfort with a number of taunts towards his cousin, but internally rages at the serene and slightly bemused face of the man opposite. Why doesn’t he speak? Feyd continues his chatter as they fight, calming his increasing fear at Paul's strength and dexterity.

The two separate momentarily and stalk each other in a circle. Feyd stares at his enemy avidly and unhealthily. When he looks at Paul, really looks at him, he is disturbed by their resemblance. He is shocked to realise that he feels jealous of the man—the Kwisatz Haderach, who was and is loved by many and nurtured through faith and loyalty, unlike the Harkonnens who ruled by fear and intimidation.

No one, save for his deceased parents and Neyla, had ever loved Feyd-Rautha in his entire life. People only entertained him out of fear that their refusal would incur death, including his concubines. Women. There’s a thought. He looks over Paul’s shoulder and sees an attractive Fremen woman looking on in fear, eyes swimming in devotion. Attempting to goad the Muad’Dib, he cruelly spits: “A pet I see? Will she be deserving of my special attention?” He hides his seething jealousy with taunts, and feels the sting of knowing no one would ever look at him with the pure and freely-given love that this desert woman regards Paul.

Crystal-clear images of Lankiveil fill Feyd's mind as Paul’s crysknife enters his skull. The spice-awareness blesses him, and a wry smile crosses his lips in the knowledge that his dance is over.

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune #dune part 2 #dune 2 #paul atreides #austin butler #timothée chalamet

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haecien · 8 months

Text

SEVENTEENS reaction to their s/o being scared/screaming about bugs.

Note: I have no idea who is & is not scare of bugs in svt... this is just my interpretation!! If there is a video/post about this tell me!!! also fun fact, a Cockroach was roaming around my room while writing

Warning: mentions of killing, the word die😭 all of this is jokes, none of these are real! slight cursing!

Genre: fluff, jst fluff

766 words 3,883 characters

C.SC -

At first he thought you were dying when he heard your blood curtailing scream, turns out there was a fly just roaming around and it happen to just touch your face.

Now he has learned to carry at least 1 tiny can of bug spray just for you, it gives him a heart attack over your screams. He finds it a bit cute whenever you clung to him after seeing a bug near you.

Y.JH -

Same reaction for the first time of coups. But.... instead of comforting he just... almost teased you to death/j

He'd secretly hide those fake toys of bugs ALL around your shared house/apartment/...idk any living place lmao

You'd almost kill him for doing that, still gets you everytime. Ofc he made it up to you, he is still your boyfriend after all

" Hey... come on I'm sorry! I forgot to remove itt"

*silent treatment*

H.JS -

He would try to calm you down at first, if you were still wailing about the bug he would try and kill it or carefully place it outside.

He would endlessly caress you and tell you that you're alright

(Bro im giggling)

"Joshua i swear ill love you til I die" " Then die😊🤭" /j

(If ykyk)

W.JH-

Who knows he'll eat the bug, jk. He would prob scream with you, he'll act up like " I'll protect you! " then comes running back to you terrified

" YOU DIDN'T TELL ME IT WAS THAT BIG " " WAAAHAA I KNOW... "

Eventually he sucked it up and very "bravely" shoo shoo away the bug. BEGONE! " You know! I was just acting, I wasn't really scared... " " Totally.... "

K.SY-

" AAAAAAAAA " Wow is HE more scared than YOU? Yes, a matter of fact he is.... " You know i've seen tigers beat bigger enemies... yet you're scared of a single bug?? I guess you're not really a tiger. "

Those exact words, they made him furious and he quickly got a broom and vigorously whacked the bug away! In times of need you just made him question his identity as a tiger.

J.WW-

Honestly, would be kinda chill. He carefully took a piece of paper and a glass and scooped up the bug and placed it outside.

He asked if you wanted to play with him to help you calm down, you said yes NEVER wanting to set a foot outside right now. (Ok now imagine resting your head on his broad ass shoulders while playing and he'd run his fingers through your hair)

L.JH-

Same reaction as Wonwoo, BUT It would take him awhile to come down from his room😭the time he came down you'd almost started thinking of burning this entire house to the ground. (No reason, i keep thinking about the fluffy hair jihoon with THE black turtleneck shirt that's kinda tight)

X.MH-

So... Fuck it he's letting you take care of it/j yeah he's gnna flame that bug, BURN THE WITCH! If he mocks you about this you would bring up the thing with him and frogs😭(if you don't know I remember seeing a video of seeing minghao being scared of irl frogs but not animated ones ex: keroppi)

K.MG-

Hes a big boy... but he's just a puppy tbh, LITTERALLY LOOK (I got off track sorry HAJSJSK Free gyu pics ig HAHA)

Deff is also scared of the bugs too, poor baby just stood there frozen while the bug flew on his face. Prob had to call a friend to help you HAHA

L.SK-

You know he's gnna hit those high notes, who's going to help you both in this state oh my god. "YOU'RE THE MAN. GO GET IT. " the bug flew away before you both could even do anything " Sunshine i drove it away!! " ".... YaaYyyy.... " *dies*

H.VC-

" HANSOL... " he looked at you confused literally deadass holding the now DEAD bug in his hands " what do I do with it? Throw it o-- " "NO! " bitch I thought you were scared of it " ... ill just do whatever "

B.SK-

He gets scared easily too so... hajimalago/j would be sassy about it " Why don't you get it! You saw it first " kind of guy you'd end up bickering with him too much that the bug decided to just dip out

L.CN-

The only guy who actually protected you HELP, you'd move to another room and let him take care of it. He'd keep reassuring you that you were fine and that the bug was gone, no more bugs will bother you anymore

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jazeswhbhaven · 4 months

Note

Let's have some angst

MC suddenly doesn't remember who everyone is and they're confused about where they are

You can tell they have dementia (?)

How do you think the kings react to this shock (maybe with Sitri too)?

Oh snap, we've got angst in the house! (thank you for your patience on this)

So because dementia is more than just memory loss, and involves eventually being able to do basic functions and other everyday things it would affect MC's mood/etc. I will just base this off of general memory loss if that's okay, mostly because dementia is something I only know a basis of, and I could very much get something wrong in my response and I wouldn't want to upset anyone who has a loved one dealing with this illness. Sitri: He realizes right off the bat something isn't right from the first day MC started showing symptoms of memory loss. He gets a second opinion from Morax, who confirms that MC is suffering from this symptom due to being in Hell. It's not reversible once it's started, and Sitri prepares by writing little notes for MC and sticking them in various places. He will also text them updates or things to remember to do once they wake up. Sitri does get upset sometimes when they don't remember him, but he has gotten used to it by now. At least the silver lining is that when he calls them Solomon they respond to it as normal instead of correcting him often. Satan: He at first thinks MC is just airheaded, and doesn't take it seriously until one day they have a major freak out and truly don't remember him at all. They were in bed sleeping with him and woke up screaming and kicking and crying and then when Satan realized it was serious. He knows what to do without consulting anyone and he keeps MC around him 24/7 at this point to make sure they don't get lost or hurt. He tells them various stories each day to jog their memory and it seems to work on most days, there are also days when he has to restrain them because they'll go ballistic on him and ask where Minhyeok is (they seem to only remember his name and not Satan). Mammon: Truly a devil of denial when he starts seeing MC forgetting small things, as he doesn't pay attention until one day Bimet complains that MC struck him because they thought he was a stranger. Mammon jumps into action having a specific room set with Ai bots to help MC's memory by providing puzzles, mental exercises, and whatever they need to help stave off the symptoms. He gets upset often when MC doesn't remember him and he does sit alone in his room and wonders if it's better to just let MC return home so their life can be easier. He feels if MC went home then maybe their memory would return. But he belongs to MC, he can't bear to do it...so he tries his best to hide the hurt, and tend to their needs in any way he can. Beelzebub: He doesn't remember things often as well so he can tell immediately what's wrong with MC when it starts happening. He instructs Bael to keep an eye on them from time to time and just let things go with the flow. At the same time, he begins to worry when MC starts wandering off on their own thinking that they ended up in the palace by accident, searching for their "home". Beel decides to take MC with him on his travels instead of keeping them in Avisos, where he knows the devils there would take advantage of the situation when he's not around. Though sometimes he does forget that MC is having memory laps, he is very protective and attentive to them. Though, he doesn't necessarily like it that MC doesn't remember him some days at all no matter how many times he tries to make it stick. Maybe...someday...

Leviathan: This is something he ignores at first because he thinks it's just MC playing around with him and causing trouble. It isn't until MC truly doesn't acknowledge him and ignores him and his nobles because they think they've wandered around somewhere and got lost is when Levi makes it a point to jump in. He finds it bittersweet that MC doesn't remember him, that every morning it seems that MC forgets everything from the day before. It exhausts Levi to go through the same routine, knowing he's done this for days now with them and nothing seems to stick or fix it. He's close to giving up, perhaps sending MC off to stay at the local hospital or having a healer/doctor come to Hades to provide all-around care for MC. He just can't do it...know that those eyes that used to look at him so fondly now only stare at him in confusion and fear. Lucifer: When he notices right away, he immediately gets Morax, Marbas, and Buer to tend to MC while he handles his duties as normal. He doesn't seem to mind that MC doesn't remember him but he is concerned about them not knowing their own name and forgetting things that they've done even minutes ago. He doesn't find it safe for them to be outside the palace so he has each of his nobles rotate shifts watching over MC. When he has the time he spends it with them, telling stories of what he did that day, and giving MC small context words to see if they stick for the next day. He does this from now on, accepting that this is life with MC now. He spends most of his time with them, hiding his true feelings of impending loneliness, knowing that eventually, he will have to let MC go back home so that their memory may return normally.

#whb #what in hell is bad #jwhbasks❓#whb kings👑#whb requests and headcanons #memory loss tw #memory loss au

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sakasakiii · 11 months

Note

Hi!

I love your work!! Your art is very pretty. Do you have a specific idea of how old everyone is ? Do you lean more towards canon or do you have your own dates in mind ? If don’t wanna a answer it’s ok!

Hope u have a nice day

(Remember to drink water!)

hiiii nonnie!!! thank you for checking in, and im happy u like the stuff i put out!! when it comes to ages, it's difficult to answer sometimes bc of the way professor tolkien's timeline is-- it makes gauging one singular place where most of the cast can be compared something that makes my tired brain go 😵🤧🤕 but i love the prompt youve given! and thus heres my attempt at it

with most of my tolkien stuff, i always try to stick to canon wherever possible emphasis is on try lmao and the topic of ages is one such place. i do make exceptions to the Professor's canon sometimes for a few reasons: 1) i like some of the scrapped ideas in his drafts, or 2) i just prefer other options. with ages, i think the only charas with canon-established ages i deviated from are fingolfin, finrod, turgon, and aredhel. i try to keep cases like these minimal tho, so i hope it doesn't bother anyone too much... 👉👈

anyways i figured just dropping a list of numbers would be kinda boring to look at so heres an illustrated guide to what the ~rough~ ages of the finweans are in my head whenever i write or draw. Y.T. 1495 (the year Finwe dies) is the controlled medium ive used to enable a fair comparison of the Finweans

note: "born Y.T. xxx" means this is the canon date of birth listed on Tolkien Gateway. "est. born [xxx]" means this is a noncanon estimate:

the First Age gets a lot more muddled from there due to the hullaballoo of everything going on, so ill only be including the doriathrim and a few other denizens of nargothrond:

it's mostly the older elves that are more undefined/vague with their ages (i.o.w. others like elwing, earendil, the peredhil twins, and most Men all have set dates of birth), so they're all i'll be doing for now. but it's that vagueness which makes hcing all the more enjoyable, isn't it! plus since we’re on this subject, under the cut are just a few headcanons and musings ive had that i wanted to put somewhere 😙

Finarfin and Earwen were born within months of each other! Finwe and Olwe made a Really Big Deal out of when they found out their wives were pregnant at the same time. As a result, the two were often sent on many playdates with each other to “bolster healthy relations” between the Noldor and the Teleri. It wasn’t an arranged marriage situation, but I like to think they were goofy for each other from the start… Resulting in the two eventually getting married as soon as they came of age, the fastest out of all of Finwe’s kids to do so.

The reason the Ambarussa are significantly younger than the other Finweans (especially the Feanorians-- there’s a 100 Valian year gap between them and Curufin alone!) is because I imagine they were accidental babies that even Feanor didn’t expect to conceive. too bad morgoth said "its morgin time!" and started Messing Things Up shortly afterwards.....

Anaire was Lalwen's good friend long before she married Fingolfin; they met through Lalwen who wingmanned Fingolfin the whole time. i like think Anaire'd be the best out of all the wives at keeping good, healthy bonds with all the women of her family :DD

luthien's potential 姐姐/big sis dynamic with all the younger doriathrim elves is something i daydream about a lot 😌 but sometimes the fact that she's older than finarfin keeps me up at night

this has been really fun, so thanks again for asking-- annnd yessir, i am chugging water as i write this so you better be doing the same ❤️ have a great start to your week!

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pinkslashersimp · 11 months

Note

Hi hi can I request the reader making Will Graham play animal crossing and minecraft with them? I think that man would love them especially the fishing in AC!! If you write lil headcanons for this thank you!!! :)

╰┈➤ Synopsis: On his day off, Will finally decides to ask what ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ game it is you’ve been playing on your device.

⠀⠀⠀✎ Note: Yay i love animal crossing!! of course <3⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ Please excuse how long this has taken me, I’ve just ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ completed my college course and when this was sent I ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀had exams and assignments I was focusing on, I ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀appreciate the patience (⋆ˆ ³ ˆ)🩷

no TWs, safe headcanons:)

“What is that you’re playing on your…thing?” Will asks, he’d arrived home moments ago from taking the dogs out for a walk, and when he came in he saw you laying down on the sofa, switch held above you, as sounds from Animal Crossing blared out from the handheld device.

You sit up and tilt the switch towards him, as he sits down on the sofa next to you, hands held together pinching his fingers as he usually does. He observes the game closely as you explain to him the mechanics of animal crossing.

“So like, the sims?” Will asks, confused when you let out a little laugh.

No, Will. Not like the sims.

You explain to him that you control your own island along with Tom and Isabel, and you have your own villagers and you can customise how you want your island to look. Will nods along, not too interested.

That is, until you bring up fishing and fossil finding.

Will points out a dark shadow in the water, at which point you excitedly tell him you can fish in the game and discover different kinds of sea creatures.

Will watches intently as you pull out your hefty fishing rod, cast it into the water, and spam the A button repeatedly when the fish hooks itself onto the rod. His eyes widen in admiration as your character pulls out a large, green-ish fish from your islands waters.

“I caught a Sea Bass! No, Wait…It’s at least a C+!” You read out from the screen, as your character proudly presents the sea bass to you and your detective boyfriend. Will let’s out a chuckle and quickly puts his head in his hands. “So stupid”, he jokingly scoffs, in response to the poor fish joke.

“Okay, you try.” You say as you push the switch into Wills hands. He takes a minute to adjust to the controls, running around and switching equipment until he finally lands back on the fishing rod. He wanders around the islands streams until he sees a small shadow.

“How do I do it??” He asks, looking over at you, as you guide him on what buttons to press. Eventually he figures it out and casts his rod into the waters, spamming the A button until the watery beast is tamed and pulled out by your character.

“I caught a goldfish. It’s worth it’s weight in fish.” Will nods at the screen before turning his head to look at you. “And they say that every time?” He asks, jokingly uninterested as you playfully push him.

Will then, like the true boomer he has hidden deep within him, accidentally presses the home button and exits out the game. Hes about to hand the switch back to you before he spies a different game.

“Minecraft.” He says. “And what is that?”

You take the switch back from him, save your animal crossing game and switch to minecraft. You take a few minutes explaining this game to him, about the building, mining, farming, and the fishing. Will takes much more of an interest this time, seemingly wanting to play and attempt to build and mine something.

You take notice in his interest and exit out the game and into the profile settings. “Look” you say with a sweet smile, “Ill make you a profile here, and, if i’m not using my switch, you can log in and play any game here.”

“Sounds good!” Will replies, nodding. Once the profile has been completed he gently takes the switch from your hands. “And what is this called again?” He asks, pointing down to it.

“A Nintendo Switch” you laugh.

“Hmmm.” will replies, clicking on the animal crossing game. “Why don’t we say it’s my turn with the Nintendo switch for now?” he asks, with a sly smile, before turning the tv on for you to watch.

“Ill fix us dinner when it’s your turn again” He compromises, with a kiss to your forehead

#nbc will graham #will graham headcanons #will graham #will graham x reader #nbc hannibal

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chaotic-on-main · 7 months

Text

Epilogue

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, romance, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse, smoking and alcohol abuse mentions, domestic violence, light assault, eventual smut

☾ Author's note ➼ Heeeeyy I'm back. If you haven't had an eye on my masterlist for Unspoken Words, you might have missed that I've been working on an epilogue. SURPRISE. If you have, then here it is lol. I am OFFICIALLY done with UW and I'm so sad about it. ALSO for some reason my tumblr app hates me and any time I italicize a line, it italicizes the entire paragraph and I have no idea why. As always, the sign language lines are marked with ' and speaking lines marked with ".

Thank you to anyone who has taken time out of their lives to read my "little" story. I enjoyed writing about this little world and I could not be happier to know that most of you liked reading it. I appreciate you more than you know. Can you believe this is around 100k words? Crazy. Anyways, I'm gonna go write some more, I'll see ya around! <3

☾ Word Count ➼ ~4k

Reddish-orange leaves dance in a unique ballet number past the window you were currently staring out of. You can't keep your fingers from picking at the sleeves of your wool sweater as you wait for your speech therapist to come and get you from the semi-quiet lobby. The only noises you hear comes from the reception desk and the TV mounted opposite of the couch you were waiting on. The weather channel calls for a beautiful weekend with warmer than usual temperatures – which is good considering Halloween is tomorrow.

A side door leading to the back offices opens up, and your name is called from a stout brunette woman with large rimmed glasses and a kind smile. She holds it open as she beckons you forward, and you don't hesitate to smile back as you pick up your bag and make your way through the door and down the familiar hall on her heels.

You’ve been seeing Dr. Boreal for about almost two years now. You started speech therapy shortly after starting trauma therapy – something they had recommended. You weren't quick to decline the suggestion, but you'd be lying if you said you had ever thought about taking back your speech. Some time in your youth, you just assumed it was gone forever. That it was something that couldn't be fixed.

According to Dr. Foust, your trauma therapist, the speech block was mental. Therefore, it was something that could be explored and possibly broken through.

When he had said that, you had newfound hope and suddenly a silent goal to work towards.

It's like clockwork the way you stepped into Dr. Boreal's navy blue office, stepping over to the right and onto the plush cream colored couch meant just for patients. On the walls of her office sits multiple picture frames and motivational posters, all with smiles and bright colors. Her dark curtains sit parted, letting in the afternoon autumn sun that hits the wall next to you. You watch as she grabs the folder with your name on it before sitting in her large red chair and smiling over to you.

“So, how have you been? How was your trip with Levi?”

‘I’m doing well. And It was lovely! You were right, too. The road to Trost is gorgeous this time of year and the trees! So pretty.’ You think back at the little vacation Levi took you on just a week ago. He had taken the scenic route to the little town that you and he had rented a cabin in.

The leaves were at the end of their life and littered the ground wherever you went, crunching underneath your boots. Between the intimate moments and crisp atmosphere, it really was a magical time. Levi practically had to drag you back home.

On the way out, Levi found this adorable tea shop. It's not easy finding a place that made tea as well as he did, and of course he didn't say anything, but you could tell how much he enjoyed it. You won't soon forget the content on his normally stoic face. That reminds you of the little package snuggled in your purse so you reach down into it to pull out a small, rectangular tin.

‘I got this for you.’ You beam at her as you hand it over gently.

“Cranberry autumn tea?” She inspects the wording on the metal, hazel eyes glittering gold in the sunlight that reflects off the container. Her eyes shift to you as a grateful smile lights up her weathered face. “Oh you sweet thing, thank you so much. But you shouldn't have.”

‘As thanks for dealing with me.’ You laugh softly, leaning back into the plush couch.

“You know it's no problem. Even if I wasn't paid, I'd still enjoy your company.” She waves dismissively after setting her gift down on the table in front of her. “So, let's see where we left off last time.”

You pick at the edges of your sleeves once again as you watch her find the right place in her notes. Dr. Boreal is one of the kindest people you've had the pleasure of being around. Though she was being paid to help you, she always did so much more. She was patient with you when you struggled to get past certain goals, and when your voice hurt after a grueling session she would bring you herbal tea with honey to smooth the pain. Levi joked that you liked her tea more than his to which you always rolled your eyes at.

“Well you have made outstanding progress. Of course, there is still plenty we still need to work on. But you're doing well.” She looks down at her papers as she talks, the scratch of her pen fills the silence after she finishes. She looks back up to you. “Have you shown anyone your progress yet?”

Those around you are aware of your long journey through therapy. They even celebrated with you after one year - Hange's idea of course. Your sister couldn't hold it in when you had told them of the progress you've made and the goals you were looking forward to completing in the oncoming sessions.

What they didn't know was that you were even in speech therapy, and how far in your speech recovery you were. Keeping it secret from Levi was getting harder with every passing week.

‘No, but I plan to soon, I promise.’ You pinch your lips together in a grimace. This has been a threat for the last 6 months but truthfully, you've been too scared to tell anyone. No, not scared. Nervous.

“Well, you know my stance on that. I’m sure they're going to be ecstatic, when you're ready to do so.” Dr. Boreal sets out a recorder to let you hear your voice the way she does, a tool you both found the most helpful when it came to fixing the areas that needed the most work. “Enough of that though, are you ready to start?”

With a confident smile, you open your mouth to speak.

A few hours later, you find yourself home and in the kitchen with your mind in another dimension. You’re currently plating up a vegetable tray on a tupperware platter as autumnal lofi weaves through the room from the speakers behind you. You’re so focused on arranging your sliced up miscellaneous veggies that you don't hear the metal key in the front door and the light footsteps of your boyfriend coming home for the evening.

“Hey.” Levi mutters from behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder to look at what you're doing – not without difficulty, of course. You jump at his sudden proximity causing you to drop the chosen dipping sauces in the middle of the platter, disturbing the once perfect arrangement.

There's a soft sigh from you, but you feel the giddiness at the expected company fluttering in your stomach. Even after a few years, he still gives you that effect. You twist in his arms to face him, and his gray eyes are downturned in concern.

“Are you okay? Was therapy too much today?” He lessens his grip on you so you can pull your hands up to sign.

Levi Ackerman’s raven hair is slicked back from him running his fingers through it, and the way that it stayed put and the sheen on the strands, you can tell it must be raining. You've been so fixated on making sure it looked good that you hadn't even noticed. His gaze stares into yours as he searches for what might be bothering you, so you give him a reassuring smile.

‘No, it was actually really good. She said I've made a lot of progress.’

“That's good. Did you come home late, or have you been working on this tray the whole time?” He glances over your shoulder at the vegetables now thrown about on the counter.

‘Yes and no. I decided to run by the farmers market for more options. But they didn't have anything we didn't already have.’ You explain, shrugging your shoulders.

The afternoon sun was so nice on your face that you would have been a fool to not take advantage of it - and it's a good thing you did. Your eyes slide to the water droplets that drip down on the outside of the living room windows.

“Hm. Well we need to leave for Hange's party soon and you're not dressed. Let me finish this for you and you go get ready.” He leans in to kiss your forehead before unraveling his arms and pushing you in the direction of the bedroom. You only roll your eyes but make your way to the back as he asked.

Hange's Halloween Bash is something they have been planning for about a year. The moment the decorations went on sale last winter, she snatched up what she could. She said something about starting a new tradition for her friends turned family. Levi wasn't as excited about the prospect of such a social gathering but you were, and that was enough to get him to go.

Not only were you able to get him to go, you were also able to talk him into dressing up with you.

In front of the mirror, you finish tying up a black corset that wraps around your waist. It helps form-fit the blue long sleeve dress that drops down to your bare ankles with your pair of flats completing the look. You were almost ready – all that was left was the big blue bow that you pinned to the back of your head as best you could. You suppose for a makeshift Ariel, this would do just fine. You almost chuckle at the irony of the characters you suggested to Levi a month ago.

A girl who can't talk and a prince that loved her despite it.

You do a small twirl in the mirror to make sure everything looks right. You almost jump out of your skin at the sudden sight of the person standing in the doorway. Levi leans against the door frame, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. His hands are in the pockets of his work clothes as he watches you intently, taking in the sight of you. With a hand over your heart, you give him a small frown.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.” He doesn't sound sorry at all.

‘You are too quiet for your own good. One day you're going to scare me so bad that I'm going to punch you.’ You shake your head but smile anyways. You make your way to the closet to pull out Levi's costume for the night, making sure to grab the red waist sash that threatens to fall to the floor.

“You keep saying that.” He takes the hanger from you but not before leaning in to give you a chaste kiss. With a small laugh, you head out of the bedroom and down the hall back to the kitchen.

On your way there, you take a moment to glance at the framed photographs on the walls. Levi made sure to hang up the pictures he took from his apartment that he shared with Erwin as soon as you both moved in.

There was the one of him, Furlan, and Isabel as well as the one of him and Erwin on graduation day though Levi had persisted with Erwin to keep the latter. His blonde and blue eyed friend told him to take it as he had plenty more photos of the two he could hang up. That didn’t make Levi feel any better and it makes you wonder what photos Levi might be hiding from you.

Dispersed in between those are ones of you and Hange, and some with your shared circle of friends. The last one frames three photo strips next to each other. The first one is from your first Sakura Festival a few years ago where you sat on Levi's lap – both red faced and unaware of the extent of your affections for each other.

The other two are from the same photo booth, taken from the previous and current year. With each year, the smiles and looks of adoration grew. Both, luckily, were without the presence of your sister and Erwin. Surprisingly, it wasn't your idea to go back. As much as Levi did his best to hide his sentimental side, it was always present.

When you get to the kitchen counter, you see the platter rearranged and closed up with the matching plastic lid. It looks perfect, even better than when you took a crack at it. You also see two cups of tea on the counter, both with steam rising up and dancing in the kitchen lights before dissipating into the air.

With a grin, you reach over to grab what you can only assume is yours based on the light color of your tea then walk around the island to sit on the bar stool, leaning on the counter with the mug in both hands. After your first sip, you sigh happily. It was one of the new teas Levi had brought back from the trip because he couldn't get enough of it. Earthy with hints of floral notes, topped with a citrusy zing.

When you start to wonder if Levi was okay, your eyes catch movement in the hallway. You watch Levi struggle with his sash, the soft grumbling of his irritation coming from under his breath as he tugs on it. Sometimes you never realize how hard it is to do something with less than the normal amount of fingers until it's forced upon you. Of course, Levi was never one to ask for help even after all these years.

Without a second thought, you stand up and make your way over to him. He doesn't fight as you take the fabric from his fingers and tighten it from the back. Tucked into the sash is a white blouse, loose enough to billow in the evening breeze. Black pants and matching boots fit snug against his lower half. When you're done, you turn him to face you to inspect the whole ensemble. With his hair properly slicked back, he was the perfect Prince Eric.

‘You look rather dashing, you know that?’

“Tch.” He rolls his eyes at you, but there's not a trace of annoyance radiating off of him. As much as he hates it, he loves you and would do anything you asked – within reason.

‘Are you almost ready to go?’

“In a few, I didn't just brew this for nothing.” He makes his way to the counter to grab his mug and instead of sitting, he stands propped up against the counter like you were but with his phone in hand.

“Your sister wants to know if you want apple juice or apple cider.” He mutters, his gray eyes flicking up over to you as you make your way over to the seat you were just at to finish your own cup. “Both, right?”

‘How did you know?’ You laugh, but nod in agreement. You watch as his fingers type away, the clicking of the keys filling back empty space. There's barely any sunlight coming through the closed blinds signifying that nightfall was almost here. You just now noticed Levi had gone ahead and turned off everything for you while you were getting ready.

The gut feeling you felt last week is back. There was a moment when Levi drove through the rolling hills, the golden rays of sunset lighting up his face. A moment of peace that washed over you as his soft gaze flitted over to you in the passenger seat for only a second, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.

With a nervous sigh, you reach over and pull down his phone with one finger to get his attention. Instantly he looks at you with worry, his mouth downturned.

“Are you okay?”

‘I bet you love me.’

His eyebrows raise, a little surprised at your random question – at something so obvious that he worries even more that something is wrong.

“What’s this about?”

‘Humor me. I bet you love me.’

“You bet right.” He draws out, confusion lacing his tone.

‘You have to answer a question now. Since I was right.’

“What do you want to know that you don’t already?” His eyes roll at you again, but he sets his phone and mug down and leans over on his elbows to watch you intently.

‘It’s a simple but very important question, I promise.’

“Tch, okay. Hit me.”

Your eyes are suddenly fixated on the fridge to the right of you, the heat of his stare making you shy. For a split second, you almost chicken out. With your heart in your throat, you feel as if you're going to choke as your pulse quickens. Can you do this? Were you ready for this? You were quite tired after today, maybe it's best saved for another day. These thoughts race loudly in your head, but the moment you look back up to meet Levi's gaze, they cease to a quiet murmur.

No, you're ready. And you can do this.

With your fingers laced together, you rest your chin on them and continue to look up at Levi's perplexed expression. Your mouth opens and closes a few times before you're finally able to find your voice.

“Will… you marry… me, Levi?” Your voice is scratchy despite the honey tea you drank after your session. It's rough, and to you it's far from pretty. But the change in expression on Levi's face is almost worth it as he stares at you dazed. It's almost funny to see the physical reaction of his brain comprehending what just happened, like a computer crashing and rebooting.

He's reaching over the counter suddenly and cupping your face in his calloused hands. He holds you there as his wide eyes bounce back and forth between yours. You fight back a laugh, your lips pinched together and quivering.

“Do that again. Say my name again.” The urgency in his voice is palpable.

“L…” You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to find your voice yet again. It's hard, but you try again anyway. “Levi.” It comes out brittle this time, leaving an uncomfortable pain in its wake.

“How did this happen?” His own voice sounds a little higher than before, and you have to bite back another laugh.

‘I've been working on it alongside my sessions with Foust.’ You've met your vocal quota for the day. Levi's hands stay cupped around your cheeks and he pulls you in until his soft lips touch yours again. Your eyes flutter closed as you kiss him back, feeling the weight of your anxiety lift off your shoulders in an instant.

When he pulls away, his stare is conflicted and before you know it, he's released you and whips around the corner down the hallway. Dread inches its way into your chest where the anxiety was before as you realize he never answered your question. Did he need a moment? Did he even hear what you asked? The shock may have been too much. Your teeth bite into the inside of your cheek as you watch the dark hallway nervously.

A few seconds later, he emerges from the shadows with red creeping from his neck up into his face. He's flustered and holding something small in his hand. It takes you a moment to register what it was, and when you do, you jump to your feet to meet him halfway.

He doesn’t hesitate to open it to you though his fingers tremble ever so slightly. Inside are two golden rings, interlocked together. A small oval ruby sits surrounded by metal vines beset by smaller white diamonds in the shape of leaves. It's simple yet elegant. Your eyes snap up to his, no doubt as big as saucers.

Not only is this ring breathtaking, it's also groundbreaking to you. You've seen this ring box around since before you both had moved in together. It's been in the closet collecting dust, so of course you didn't think anything of it. He's had this ring for a long time, sitting right under your nose.

‘How long were you planning to propose?’

“For a while now. I just didn't know when would be a good time.” He carefully takes out the one with the red ruby and holds it up to you. The kitchen lights glimmer off the smooth surface reflecting red against his fingers. “I can't believe you beat me to it, though.” So he did hear you.

‘I wasn't planning to do it tonight, but I just had a feeling.’

“You never cease to amaze me, you know that?” He leans over to place the ring box onto the side table behind him, then turns to you. Then he does something you've only ever seen in movies – Levi gets down on one knee and the ring out to you.

“Um. I'm not good with things like this. But I just want you to know that I love you. And I've never been more prepared to spend my life with someone, if you'll have me. Will you marry me?” His eyes look away for a second before focusing back on you. Even though you had pretty much said yes when you asked first, he still seemed so nervous.

To see Levi in such a mess like this in front of you makes that laugh you held back burst forth, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Speechless again, you reach your hand out to him and just like that, he slides the ring on your finger with ease.

“I- uh, borrowed one of your rings to get it resized.” He mutters as you stare at it curiously. “So, that's a yes right?” Even though you took the ring, you can still hear the anxiety in his voice.

‘Of course, dummy.’ You laugh again before pulling him up on his feet by his collar and into you for another kiss, this time deeper and full of the love that you have for this man. When you pull away, you can't help but stare at the metal hugging your ring finger.

“It was my mom’s, she insisted on me having it. I think she knew.” He grabs your hand and pulls you into him, one hand on your waist and the other cupping your face. “I suppose we should call her tomorrow, yeah?”

You nod sharply, your smile hurting your cheeks, but you don't care. All you feel right now is the same peace you felt last week and excitement for the future ahead. You didn't want anyone else.

“Say it again?”

“Levi.” He leans in again, hand still on your face as he presses his lips against your once more. There have been many shared kisses since you both became official but this one felt different. You didn't have the words for it, but it was miles away from being bad.

Levi's phone vibrating loudly on the counter disturbs the comfortable silence and you can only sigh. You almost forgot that you had somewhere to be and are reminded by the caller ID flashing your sister's name. In Levi fashion, he ignores it but he does pull away to look at you with a grimace.

“So who’s telling them?”

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☾ Previous Chapter: June - Part 5

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pinkkittysaw · 8 months

Text

I AM AFRAID NOT OF LEAVING, BUT BEING FORGOTTEN

*the title is part of a quote from the book Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance by Hanif Abdurraqib

pairing: clive rosfield x f!reader

summary: unable to deal with your bouts of insecurity, you try to call it quits on your relationship with clive

word count: 3.5k

content: hurt/comfort, established relationship, self flagellation (talks of insecurity and self doubt/deprecation), unhealthy coping mechanisms, allusions to anxiety, extremely self indulgent

(18+) this piece is sfw but am uncomfortable with minors interacting with my work

a/n: dealing with a lot of anxiety and thoughts of worthlessness/hopelessness so i created this in hopes of alleviating some of those feelings 👍

also if you’re interested, i listened to Need 2 by Pinegrove while writing this. figured it’d help set the mood while reading

divider by @/saradika

"You're still sleeping in the bunks? Clive returned yesterday, you know." Jill teases as she sits on the edge of the bed you've chosen to occupy for the past few nights. It wasn't unusual for you to reside in the bunks whenever Clive was away on an assignment; the big bed that occupies his chambers being too spacious to bear during nights spent alone.

What was unusual, however, was that you continued to spend your evenings there after he had already returned. Having once been so eager to jump into his sturdy arms after catching wind of his arrival back at the hideaway. You were often caught running down to the pier once the ferryboat came into view, excitedly waiting for him at the dock while waving your arms like a madwoman. When Jill heard from Clive that the two of you hadn't spoken since before he left, she immediately knew something was amiss.

"I'm aware," you grumble into the pillow that you're currently holding over your face.

"Did something happen between you two?" She probes, a frown forming on her features as she scoots closer to you. "Did he hurt you? Because I swear to Founder if he-"

"No, no, no, it's nothing like that," you interrupt, removing the pillow. "He's lovely. I just..." Hesitation creeps into your voice as your words trail off. To be honest, you're not quite sure how to describe what you're experiencing at the moment. "I'm feeling...unwell." Though it's not a physical illness that ails you, you hope that your response is satisfactory enough for her to leave the conversation be.

"Have you come down with something? I can help you to the infirmary if you need."

"It's nothing that serious. I'll be alright." You give her a half-hearted smile in an attempt to reassure her. She eventually yields, though still not convinced of your words.

With a shake of her head and a heavy sigh, she rises to stand. "He'll come looking for you sooner or later." Padding across the room from your bunk to the entrance, she looks back at you before making her exit. "You can't avoid him forever."

You scoff when she's just out of earshot. Like hell you can't, you think to yourself. Wearing your self-isolation on your sleeve like a badge of honor. Whenever you wanted to disappear from people's lives, you did, regardless of how much it hurt. This time was no different.

The truth of the matter is that you were avoiding Clive; the reasons for doing so were nobody's fault but your own.

In your eyes, you were so much weaker than he, often thinking you were undeserving of a man of his caliber. He harnesses the strength to take on entire eikons, whereas you peril in comparison, so after ruminating on your feelings of worthlessness one night, you decided to call it quits, figuring that it was for the best and choosing to avoid him so you didn't have to confront your own inadequacy. Perhaps it wasn't the healthiest choice, but it was the one you decided to go with.

The next few days are spent taking on as many assignments as you can, with the hope of eluding Clive. The majority of his time was spent away from the hideout, but you could never be too careful.

Rushing over to check the alliant reports at first light and carrying on well throughout the day. From dawn til dusk, you worked yourself to the bone only to collapse in your bunk at the end of the day, dead to the world, rising early from your slumber to repeat it all again the next day.

Apparently, Clive caught on to your little scheme because, after one late afternoon, someone stood waiting for you at the pier upon your return to the hideaway.

After thanking Obolus, you make your way over to the fellow bearer to inquire about what's going on. "Clive's looking to speak with you in his chambers; he said it was urgent," she states.

"It can't wait?"

"He seemed rather insistent; best not keep him waiting."

"Of course, thank you for letting me know." You smile at her before making your way over to his chambers, grumbling to yourself. You climb the steps to his room with a pout on your face, not looking forward to the conversation awaiting you on the other side of the door.

After taking a moment to collect yourself, you extend your arm to gently knock on the door. "Come in." His voice calls out from inside the room.

You push apart the two slabs of wood separating his chambers from the main deck and step inside. He's sitting at his desk to your left, quill in hand, stripped down to just his tunic and trousers, his leathers and armor removed, while his sword rests against the wall. Fuck, you think to yourself. He must be set on staying a while. There's no escaping him this time.

You make quick work to occupy yourself with the objects scattered around the room as you move to stand in front of his desk. You're surprised to see a pile of your forgotten clothing neatly folded on the couch that sits against the opposing wall, as well as the various knickknacks you've added to his desk during your time together. Albeit an overreaction, you half expected your things to be tossed into the lake's abyss with how you were acting.

"Ah," he says as he looks up from his writing, setting down the quill. "There you are. I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of having your clothes washed, should you want them back."

"But if not, I could always make space for them here."

Your eyes meet his as the statement leaves his mouth. It's an invitation, an olive branch extended to you in hopes of making peace. The implication of his words, the domesticity of it all, leaving bits and pieces of each other in one another's lives, even after all that you've done to push him out of yours, leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth, making you realize just how truly undeserving of his love you really are.

A mumbled "Thank you" is all you can offer him in response.

"It's no problem." He stands up from his seat; both his hands lay flat on the desk below as he peers down at you. "I've heard you've been making yourself quite scarce lately."

"Your undertaking of assignments has increased significantly. It's almost as if...you've been avoiding me." He states it like a question, trying to gauge your reaction and see if you'll give him something he can latch on to.

"That's not true," you scoff. It is true, and you both damn well know it, but you keep up the facade anyway.

He exhales the breath he was holding, easing up on the interrogation. "I admit, I've been spending more time away from the hideout, but you can't seriously expect me to believe that your behavior lately is normal."

"I haven't seen as much as a glimpse of you since before I left."

Frustration grows in your belly; you're tired of running, tired of hiding, and tired of pretending. "I can't do this anymore, Clive."

"Can't do what?"

"This. Us."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just not good enough for you... or anyone."

"I shouldn't even be here. I'm not strong enough to fight alongside the cursebreakers," you gesture into the open air. "I lack the wit to come up with strategies to help take down the Mothercrystals, and I've got as much charm as a bloody morbol."

"I've read the missives from the past few days, all of which praise you for your tact, your kindness, dedication, and care. Just because you're not on the frontlines doesn't mean you're not making an impact."

"What good is any of it?" You raise your voice. "What good is helping with crops, fetching supplies, and slaying meager monsters if it's the next day that our people are led to slaughter?"

"The imperials tighten their grip across the realm with each passing moon, and what I do in the grand scheme of things is the equivalent of sitting on my arse twiddling my thumbs. I'm about as useful as a corpse."

"ENOUGH." His voice boomed and bellowed, loud enough that people down on the main deck probably turned their heads at the sound. "Sit," he commands, pointing to the couch across the room, and you dare not disobey.

Embarrassed that you've stirred up such a fuss, you sit yourself down on the piece of furniture and hang your head low, preparing for a scolding. Not that it wouldn't be deserved; Clive has enough to worry about with the Mothercrystals and bearers, now having to also quell the insecurities that linger in your heart.

Just suck it up and do better is what you've always been told, but try and try and try as you might, you can never seem to get there. You're never enough. Can your strengths even be called strengths if there's so many out there who can do everything you do but better?

You don't bother raising your head to him as he paces back and forth, not wanting him to see another weakness of yours in the form of your tears. He gives a heavy sigh as he collects his thoughts, pinching his nosebridge while searching for the right words. "I apologize for raising my voice, but I simply cannot bear how critical you are of yourself, especially when I know for a fact that your fears are unfounded."

He marches up to where you sit on the couch, caressing your cheek and nudging your face in his direction. You can't bring yourself to meet his icy blues, knowing your heart would burst at the seams under his gaze or the kind smile that he reserves just for you. You don't deserve it, not with the way you've acted, so instead you turn your head in the opposite direction, refusing to indulge in his affections. His grip is a tad more firm as he attempts to move your face once more. You don't have the strength to resist his pull, so you let him maneuver your jaw to face him.

Tears begin to flow down your cheeks, and your lower lip wobbles as you attempt to hold in your sobs. His eyes widen as he sees the state that you're in, and with a gentle finger, he lifts your chin up.

"Will you look at me, please?" His voice isn't as strong as it once was moments before. There's a small break in his tone, almost as if he's pleading with you. Feeling exhausted now, you lift your eyes to meet his. They're not filled with anger or disappointment, but with concern, and more tears pool in your waterline as you scan his face.

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispers, bringing his thumbs to wipe away the tears spilling from your eyes before sitting down beside you. He surveys your sullen expression before pulling you into a hug. His warmth surrounds you in his embrace, and a part of you hates how secure it makes you feel.

Always relying on others to get by, you'd be dead without him, and you know it. You're a hopeless, bumbling mess trying to find your way through a dark maze.

You cry more into his shoulder, soaking through his tunic with your tears, despite your best efforts to remain unfeeling and stoic. It's all too much all at once, and his comfort only agitates the ache deep within your heart.

"Let it all out; I'm right here."

"You're safe," he murmurs in your ear, stroking a comforting hand up and down your back.

"I don't deserve you, Clive."

"You don't deserve to see me like this," you manage to choke out between sobs. The force of your crying is so violent against him that you start hiccupping and gasping for air.

He doesn't respond to your claims, not yet anyway, knowing that doing so would only rile you up more—choosing to hold you instead, rocking you slightly from side to side. He waits for you to calm down before addressing you, and you don't attempt to speak again, your shortness of breath not allowing for any more words to be uttered. You allow yourself to rest in his arms like you've done many times before, and after a short while, your wails are reduced to nothing but sniffles.

Once you've become a bit more settled, he pulls away from the embrace only to fetch a hankerchief, giving you a few minutes to collect yourself. He sits back down with you, his free hand grasping yours firmly, grounding you. The weight of his fingers interlocked with yours serves as a reminder that he's here; he's with you.

"I apologize for the outburst," you say, wiping your face down with the cloth before shifting your attention to him once more.

"No need for apologies, my love. I'd much rather you cry in my arms than continue to bottle this feeling inside you and let it fester."

You look away from him, turning toward the gaps in the wall of his chambers where the sunlight peaks through. You stare out at the lake below, watching as the black water laps at the walls of the hideaway.

Your voice takes on a somber tone when you speak next. "You deserve someone better than me, Clive, someone stronger." The air surrounding you two is still but its weight is all too heavy.

"Don't be ridiculous," he chides, his body turning to face you as he throws an arm over the backrest of the couch.

"If only I was." You let your words drift off into the ether before speaking again. "You deserve someone who can bear the weight of her own burdens, who's strong enough to not fall apart at every small inconvenience, someone who doesn't need to run into the comfort of your arms like a petulant child. I'm not worth everything you do for me—the kindness, the generosity, the love—none of it."

He scoots closer to you, bringing a hand to grasp at your hip, his thumb stroking it back and forth. "Is that not my right as your lover? To see you at your weakest and most vulnerable and still love you anyway?"

"I'm nothing, Clive. It's been that way since the day I was born. I'm not worth trying to save, just deadweight that needs to be tossed overboard."

"You think I'm a sinking ship, then? that I can't ‘handle’ you?" He gestures in the air.

"I can barely handle myself. Let's just end this before it's too late."

"Don't I have a say in the matter? You're making all these decisions about us without so much as a forethought for how I feel."

"It's better this way."

"Better for who? The self-destructive thoughts in your head? Because it's certainly not better for me and I'd go as far to say that it's not what you really want either. So pray tell, what's the real issue here?Where is all this stemming from?"

You shoot a glare his way—a defensive one, but still a glare nonetheless.

He reaches out to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. It feels like no matter what you do, it's always wrong. Here you were acting like a brat to the man you loved, and here he was, being patient with you like a saint.

You relent, letting him have a peek into the inner world that you've kept a secret all this time. "There's a horrible weight in my chest carried with me wherever I go, wrapped up tight in my gut like a ball of twine, and no matter what I do, it comes back. I can't shake it. I can't shake anything. I'm still here, a mess of fear and nerves."

"I'm angry, vengeful, and mean, but at the same time, I'm scared of everything, timid and fragile as a mouse. If weakness were a person, it'd be me. Sometimes it's a miracle that i'm even able to do the things I do. I rely on you too much, and it scares me."

"You're anything but weak, my love. In fact, I think being vulnerable and open like this takes immense strength." He continues to caress your face.

"I'm not strong enough to fight alongside you. I'm useless when it comes to taking down the Mothercrystals."

He chuckles. "If physical strength was all I cared about, I would have taken a brute as my lover."

"Clive…" You roll your eyes in a playful manner, appreciating his attempt at lifting your mood.

The sun is setting now, and his chambers are tinted with a pale orange-yellow hue. The light reflects off the water, and you gaze upon the lake below while his gaze lingers on you.

"Come," he states, extending a hand as he stands up from the couch. You take his hand in yours as he leads you over to the gap in the wall, both admiring the sunset together. It's a beautiful evening; the clouds are painted pink and orange as the sun dips below the horizon.

"I'm serious, you know," he nudges your shoulder. The beginnings of a smile paint your features—a smile that he takes as a small win.

"Clive, I-" He presses a finger to your lips, silencing you. "Just listen, please," you nod, and he turns, facing the scenic view again, the sunlight bouncing off the yellow tones of his skin. "Do you remember traveling to the Apodetry all those years back? When I couldn't grapple with the fact that I was Ifrit and very well may have killed my own brother?"

You don't say anything, but you nod, and then he continues. "I'm not sure if I ever would have come to terms with it if you weren't by my side." He lets out a small sigh. "You say that you can't handle your own burdens, that I deserve someone stronger, but the truth is, without you, I might never have been able to bear my own. I'm not sure if I'd be the man I am today if I didn't have you, so don't you dare imply that I'd somehow be better off without you."

"You're right when you said I don't need you. It is not a matter of need or deserving, my love, but a matter of want. I want you. I desire you so wholeheartedly."

"I know that I alone am not enough to quell these thoughtsof yours, especially after the life you've lived-" he turns to face you again, his thumb grazing the leftover scar on your cheek from the removal of your brand, "-but please believe me when I say that you do matter, and not just to me, but to everyone here, to every person you've helped, to every soul you've graced with your kindness. Would you say those who work in the backgarden are unworthy of being here, simply because they don't wield a blade and march in the frontlines?"

"No," you pout.

He smiles. "Then I implore you to extend that same kindness to yourself." He steps closer, moving to nuzzle your nose with his. "Though you're not taking down Mothercrystals, you're showing people that there's still hope—that kindness can still exist in a world where harsh cruelties befall those who never deserve it."

"A twinkling light is left with everyone you help, no matter how minuscule it seems."

"We chose this undertaking so that dominants and bearers alike could live the lives they choose. If a life of peace is what you want, then it's one that you shall have. You shouldn't be fighting each and every day just so you can make it to the next."

Both of your foreheads press together as he continues to speak. "You don't need to throw yourself to the wolves. You're done with having to earn through suffering. You're done having to prove your worth. You don't have to earn your right to exist and be happy, not with me or anyone else here."

He presses his lips against yours. "I love you," he whispers in between the kiss. "Your vulnerabilities, your fears... They are not shortcomings, my love. They are what make you who you are, and though I wish I could make your pain a bit more tolerable, I wouldn't change a single thing about you, ever."

He presses more kisses on your lips, sweet, loving, and gentle. "You are my strength, my everything. I love you so much."

Bathed in the dying light of the sun, you hold each other tender with a slow brushing of lips against each other, and though such demons of the mind aren't so easily bested, you're given a moment's solace in the warm embrace of your lover, knowing that no matter what ails you, you'll face it together.

"I love you too, Clive."

#clive rosfield x reader #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy xvi x reader #final fantasy 16 x reader #x reader #hurt/comfort #angst #clive rosfield angst #final fantasy angst #final fantasy xvi angst #final fantasy 16 angst #✰ミ angel writes

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goldenempyrean · 10 months

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i have a supergirl request for sick alex at the deo with prompt “Goodness, you look like your about to pass out.” “Don't come too close. You don’t wanna catch this.” And “It's chaos here. I can't just stop working because I have the sniffles.” if thats okay? x female reader please

Wintertime Woes

〚 Notes - I am loving these Alex requests recently :D Also the amount of content I'm feeding you all with lately damn, I'm in my "let's write 95 stories in a day and don't sleep" era. Enjoy while it lasts :,)〛

〚 Pairing - Alex Danvers x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - During a flu outbreak at the DEO, Alex falls ill and tries to push through her responsibilities despite her worsening condition. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1200 〛

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Winter had always been Alex’s favourite season. The crisp, cool air and the occasional pile of unmeted snow that covered the curbs somehow always made her feel calm. She loved it all. However, there were inconveniences to the wintertime, namely slippery roads, frigid hands, and most prominently, sickness.

The flu had been sweeping its way through the DEO - it was bound too this time of year. With so many agents working in such close contact it was almost impossible to avoid. Not matter their rank or importance, it eventually made its way round the squad’s and not even the Director herself was spared.

Alex stood woozily in the control area, her hand clutching a crumpled-up tissue as she leant over the main desk, her other clumsily rubbing at her temple. She looked awful. Your soft hand came to slide round her waist from behind and the exhausted woman sank into your touch.

She coughed into her tissue, “Don’t come too close, you don’t want to catch this.” Alex warned through her croaking voice, yet she made no effort to move away.

“I’ll take that risk. You weren’t sick this morning, what happened?” You mumbled worriedly, burying your head into her neck, prompting her to rest her head against yours.

“The flu is characterised by a rapid on-set of symptoms. It’s been spreading like wildfire around here, you know that.” Alex whispered before her voice broke off into a hitch.

You felt her body tense up, and you quickly reached for a nearby tissue box, pulling out a fresh one and handing it to her just in time. Alex sneezed loudly, and you could tell she was trying her best to suppress it, but her body couldn't hold it back any longer.

“Bless you!” Kara called out as she came flying into the building (she’d just finished assisting the fire department with an accident downtown)

“And again, my my, bless you love.” You repeated her sister’s words, gently rubbing Alex's back as she sneezed for the second time. Her body felt warm against your touch, and you knew she was hopelessly fighting a fever.

"Thanks," Alex rasped weakly, her voice flooded with congestion as she pulled out of your hold to grab some tissues to blow her rapidly reddening nose. 

"It's chaos here. I can't just stop working because I have the sniffles," Alex replied with a weak smile, trying to maintain her composure despite feeling so unwell. She knew her responsibilities at the DEO were crucial, after all, without her there to manage and dispatch agents who would keep things running smoothly?

She was stubborn, that was sure. It took another hour of misery before Alex reluctantly gave in and gave shuffling into the room where you were training some new recruits.

“Alright guys, that’s enough for today.” You dismissed the group, letting them leave the room before opening your arms and letting the feverish woman fold into them, “Your breathing sounds awful y’know.” You sighed, at the small raspy breathes coming from the woman in your hold.

“I’ve been told.” She muttered, keeping herself close to you, sniffling against your shoulder.

You shook your head lightly, “We should get you laying down. Come on.”

She continued to sniffle and sneeze as you gently guided her towards the infirmary. Her steps were slow and unsteady as the two of you made your way. Though you practically had to carry her up the stairs the two of you finally got her there, being met at the door by Kara and Lena.

“I called her,” Kara explained as Alex curled herself onto one of the medical beds.

Lena approached with a concerned expression, placing a hand on Alex's forehead before scanning a thermometer along her brow. "39 degrees, you're burning up, Alex. You should’ve rested when you first felt this coming on.” She said softly, glancing at you with gratitude for bringing Alex to the infirmary.

Kara hovered nearby, her super hearing detecting Alex's irregular breathing and rapid heartbeat. "I'll grab some water and a cool cloth," she suggested, zipping away and returning quickly with the items.

You stayed by Alex's side, gently wiping her forehead with the cool cloth as Kara handed her a glass of water. "Try to drink a little,love. It might help with the fever," you encouraged, giving her a reassuring smile as she held your hand, rubbing her thumb over your own.

Alex took a few sips, but it was evident that she was struggling to keep herself composed. "I... I hate being so out of commission," she admitted weakly, her eyes showing a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

Lena spoke softly, her caring tone trying to comfort her friend, “You need rest to recover properly. I’ve seen how hard you work yourself here, nobody’s going to forget that if you take a few days to look after yourself for a change.”

Kara nodded in agreement, sitting by Alex's side. "We'll take care of the DEO for now. You just focus on getting better," she said, giving you an affirming nod.

With concern etched on your face, you gently squeezed Alex's hand. "They're right, Alex. The DEO will be okay, and we'll handle things while you rest. You need to prioritize your health now."

Alex's tired eyes softened as she looked at you, appreciating the support from her friends and you. "Okay," she finally relented, realizing that she couldn't keep pushing herself like this. "But promise me you'll keep me updated on everything?"

"We promise," Lena replied, speaking for both her and Kara. "You can count on us."

Kara placed a reassuring hand on Alex's shoulder. "And I'll keep checking in on you, Lena’s gonna write you a prescription for some Tamiflu, I’ll pick it up and drop it off for you tonight.

With that said, you helped the shivering Director from the bed, letting her lean fully against you as you led her from the building. Where a DEO issued car was already waiting to pick you both up.

During the ride, Alex gave into her exhaustion and fell asleep against your shoulder. You held her close, running your hand through her silky hair. By the time you’d reached her studio, Alex was completely passed out. Nothing short of a city-wide invasion would be waking her now. 

Carrying her up to her room, you made sure to tuck her safely into bed, gently pulling off her uniform and changing her into some softer, more comfortable clothes before climbing into the open space beside her, smiling as even in her sleep she snuggled up beside you.

“Sleep well baby.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her head, “and you will be definitely taking a sick day tomorrow, Director Danvers.”

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#alex danvers x reader #supercorp #alex danvers x y/n #supergirl #sickfic #fluff #comfort #whump #alex danvers #alex danvers sickfic #alex danvers x fem!reader #kara danvers #lena luthor

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phoebepheebsphibs · 4 months

Text

I will never actually write this because it was too sad (even for me and my angsty skills...)

A while ago, I came up with the idea to write a really sad fic about the turtles. Duh.

A goal with all my fics is to have a moment where I make the audience cry, or at the very least get emotional. And this was no exception. It’s a personal challenge for me, to see if I can get my audience truly invested. But, I also need my fics to have a PURPOSE. So, if I was gonna write a sad and angsty fic, I needed a way to bring it to a moral or happy ending, to show a reason why the characters went through what they did, rather than just have a story for story's sake. So, I went about coming up with a synopsis for a story that showed how to deal with grief and guilt and hopelessness. But after several months of writing and ideas, I realized that it simply wasn't working out. The story wasn't just sad or angsty, it was utterly depressing. The message of hope even after death wasn't pulling through... and in addition, I got worried that the massive amounts of despair in the story were going to be detrimental to my mental health, if not also for the readers. Thusly, I scrapped the plot.

So fair warning, the stuff you're about to read is very emotional and kinda dark...

Naw I ain’t playing, turn back now while you have the chance.

CW: LOTS. OF. DEATH. Major illness, disintegration, intrusive thoughts, suicidal thoughts, even a suicide attempt.

I was even in the process of making cover art for it (which I do for all my fics lol)

The fic literally starts out with a note from April (the narrator), explaining that she documented everything and warns the reader that this story does not have a happy ending. It takes place about a week after the invasion, and the family was having a rough time. Mikey's hands were absolutely scorched, Donnie's immune system was shot and he seemed to be getting ill, Raph was having constant panic attacks, and Leo wasn't getting better from his injuries. To top it all off, a new government branch was setting up camp in NYC and interrogating people about the events of the Krang attack. April had narrowly escaped but figured the Earth Protection Force would come back for her. Meanwhile, Leo’s injuries weren’t healing like they should have and he was getting worse… Eventually the family caved and asked for help from Agent Bishop and the EPF, but after some doctors and scientists took a look at Leo… they realized there was nothing anyone could do. They’d waited too long. Leo was not going to make it, and all they could do was make him comfortable for a few hours before he... yeah. So everyone said their goodbyes, and I actually have some snippets of dialogue written down and it makes me cry every time. Donnie had the worst reaction, upset by Leo's peace with the situation and devastated by his loss, believing that he never showed his appreciation and love for his twin as much as he should have. Leo attempts to comfort Donnie, but eventually tells him to "get over it". A few hours later, Leo dies in his sleep, and the room erupts into grief and panic and chaos until Donnie, in his pure anger, punches a hole through the heart monitor and leaves. Leo is given a viking send-off in the Hidden City, and afterwards, April asks what they are supposed to do now. Donnie angrily repeats Leo's last insight: get over it. April goes home, and after her parents ask her how her day was… she bursts into tears.

Several weeks later, Mikey tries to get Donnie and Raph to talk about their feelings, but they both refuse. Mikey himself is having issues, his hands not healing quickly and he wonders if he will ever be able to make a work of art again. He manages to get Donnie to admit his guilt of not being there for Leo and still holding anger and resentment towards his twin for sacrificing himself and dying. Mikey suggests that he speak with Raph, but Donatello refuses. Later, during an attack, Raph was knocked out and Donnie collapsed from his illness, which he had been hiding. Mikey realizes that it's left to him and uses his mystic powers to portal his brothers to safety, at the cost of his own life. Mikey comes to terms with this, believing that what he did was his mangum opus, and he feels no pain as he vanishes, greeted by Leo in the afterlife.

Donatello and Raphael mourn the loss of two brothers, and Donnie finally talks with Raph about his grief over Leo’s death (in honour of Dr. Feelings’ memory). However, his declining health is brought to light and Donnie is placed in quarantine. Casey Jr. identifies his illness as a common Krang disease, one his mother died of, and the group work overtime to create the cure. Raph stays with his last sibling and keeps him company. Donnie gets more and more sick, and one night while April and Casey are working with Agent Bishop to finalize the antidote, Donnie's fever worsens and he sleepwalks, hallucinating Mikey and Leo's return and them comforting Donnie and telling him that the others will be alright in his absence. Donnie senses that his time is almost up. Raph finds him but doesn't understand what Donnie is seeing or who he is talking to, and takes him back to bed. April and Casey finally finish the cure and rush home, hoping to make it back in time, but find Raph asleep by Donnie's bedside… Donnie having just succumbed to his illness a few hours prior.

Raph is left as the last one alive, dealing with extreme survivors' guilt for outliving his brothers and blames himself for their deaths. April tries to comfort him, Splinter, and Casey. (Casey notes that history seems to be repeating itself in reverse order— that while in the alternate timeline Raph died first and Leo last, the opposite has been happening here, and Casey fears that Raph might actually die somehow very soon.) Meanwhile, Raphael tries to atone for his guilt by overdoing the vigilante work on his own. Eventually he decides that it isn't enough, he can never atone, and he misses his brothers too much… so he writes a note to April and emails it to her, then goes to the Hidden City to pick a fight with Heinous Green... and let him win. April receives the email and she and the others rush to save Raph, who at this point has already found Heinous Green and is letting him beat the ever-loving life out of him. Halfway through, however, he realizes what he is doing and that his brothers would not want this for him, but it's too late... April and Casey find Raph near death and attempt to save him, but he goes unconscious from his injuries.

While April, Casey, Splinter and Draxum work to heal Raph's wounds and revive him, Raphael dreams of the afterlife, meeting up with his brothers and apologizing for everything. They comfort him, yet also explain that he has to wake up soon; and how April, Casey, and Splinter still need him. Raphael asks if he can stay, to which they promise that he will be okay without them and someday they will see each other again; that they aren’t mad at him for their deaths, but that he cannot speed up their meeting. Raph agrees to go home, to which they all say how proud they are of him. Raphael wakes up with his family around him, relieved that he survived. Later that night, he and April have a discussion where she scolds and berates him for trying to leave them, saying that she had no one left. He admits his actions and apologizes and promises to get better.

In an epilogue, April explains that it has been a full year since Raph’s injuries, and he is doing much better. The Hidden City made a memorial for the three lost brothers in honour of their sacrifices. Casey Jones Jr. has been doing better as well, though he will often have nights of panic and moments of grief that only Raph can get him through. Agent Bishop works with Raphael and Casey to keep the city safe from mutant attacks, and they work to create a new team, hinting to characters like Mona Lisa, Venus De Milo/Frida Kahlo, Leatherhead, and other characters from the comic series. April ends by stating that at the beginning, she said the story did not have a happy ending. She stands by this, stating that the story has not ended and will continue for as long as they live, and that she does her best to remember her friends and keep going on, not for their sake, but for her own. And that one day, she will see them again.

And as if THAT wasn't heart-wrenching enough, I also planned a short after-story of how something like 80 years later, The Hamato ghosts get ready to welcome Raph into the afterlife, showing Leo preparing a house for him and Mikey decorating and Donnie gardening.

So yeah this is the most depressing and heartbreaking thing I've ever written, and I ACTUALLY SPARED YOU FROM THE DIALOGUE I HAD WRITTEN TOO

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tutant meenage neetle teetles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt fic #rottmnt writing #depressing stuff #angst #i made it get really dark there for a bit #yeah so i don't think i'm gonna finish this one...#pain #rottmnt angst

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