#and writing helps me cope somewhat
Note
Hi! May I please make a Billie request where Billie realizes she has a crush on her best friend and starts acting nervous and shy around her, and Billie decides to go live one day and fans are asking about reader since she's usually always around and Bil's like "guys she makes me nervous cause I think she's super pretty" and basically admits her crush? Thank you 🥹🤗
cocktail night- billie eilish
summary: you and billie became fast friends, but the celebrity lifestyle sometimes interferes with your plans. you two finally have a free night and decide to have a cocktail night. with alcohol flowing through her veins, billie can't help but confess her crush on you to the world.
word count: 1.4k
warnings: alcohol/drinking, mild swearing
billie eilish was easily your favourite person in the world. despite having met only eight months ago, you guys had developed a bond unlike any other, spending any free time either of you had with each other. you knew you could spend every waking moment with her, and if you could, you definitely would. however, the celebrity lifestyles often clashed and while there were weeks were you could spend every day with each other, there were times where weeks would go by and you wouldn’t see each other. now was one of those dry spells where you hadn’t seen each other in about two weeks. you planned a little cocktail night together when you were both free. the idea had been your suggestion as the last couple of times you had seen your best friend, she had been acting strange. she was flustered and more quiet than usual. you blew it off as some weird way of coping with the stress and work that goes into writing and producing a new album, but thought that a couple cocktails might help loosen her up a little bit.
finally, the night arrived. you unlocked her door with the spare key she had given you and were immediately greeted by shark, who barked excitedly at seeing you. you bent down to pet him as billie ran down the stairs to meet you. with almost as much excitement as her puppy, she wrapped her arms around you in a hug while a large smile adorned her face. once she pulled away, you followed her to the kitchen.
“soooo, whats new?” she asked you.
“billie, we were on call just before i left the house,” you laughed before stuffing a couple chips in your mouth.
“but actually, this guy cut me off when i was driving and the guy behind me honked at me. i was so annoyed. the only thing that got me through the drive was reminding myself i would be drinking soon,” you vented.
“the thought of seeing me wasn’t enough to get you through the drive?” she joked, placing her hands over her heart dramatically.
“nope,” you smiled.
she kissed her teeth and looked away in fake annoyance, but the large smile on her face gave it away. she looked back over at you, your eyes locking, but only for a moment before hers dropped to the ground.
“i did miss you though, for real,” you affirmed.
“i missed you too,” she said.
“stop being so busy all the time,” billie joked.
“says you,” you laughed.
“you know, i think it would save you a lot of time if you had a muse to write about,” you joked, snagging a couple more chips.
“oh really? and who should my muse be?” she said, raising her eyebrow.
“me, duh,” you smiled.
“you’re already my muse,” she said, sending an exaggerated wink your way.
“aww, shut the fuck up,” you said, shoving her playfully.
“okay, come on lets get to drinking,” billie said, switching the subject.
you nodded in accordance and the two of you worked together, gathering everything you would need. as you prepared your cocktails, you downed a couple of shots each, leaving your prepared drinks, which were supposed to be somewhat aesthetic, a very ugly and delicious hot mess. you took your drinks into the living room and billie put on a movie. the two of you were already tipsy before having even taken a sip of your cocktail, and the movie had become background noise amongst your lively conversation.
before long, the two of you decided it was time to change into something more comfortable. thankfully, you had come prepared with matching christmas pj pants which you had bought earlier in the day. you told her to stay in her place, and she waited eagerly for you as you retrieved your bag. you pulled them out with a ‘ta da.’ she matched your energy, shrieking in excitement. she ran upstairs to get changed and as did you. once you were ready, you met her back in the living room, about to sit on the couch before the alcohol finally got to your bladder.
“i’m gonna go use the washroom quickly,” you told her.
she nodded, fidgeting with her phone. little did you know, she was going on live. the alcohol in her system making it seem like a good way to share your matching pyjama pants. she turned it on and within seconds, hundreds of thousands of people had joined. her live had just barely caught the end of your sentence, leading her fans to question where you were. the comments became flooded with comments along the lines of “is that y/n?” and “where’s y/n?”.
“yes guys, it is y/n,” billie smiled, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks as she slurred her words slightly.
“i came on here to show you guys our matching pj pants but she went to the washroom,” she continued.
her fans quickly picked up on the fact that she had been drinking and they had noticed the blush that got stronger with your mention.
“ouuuu she’s blushing,” one comment said.
“her cheeks r so red rn,” another one read.
“guyssss,” billie whined.
“who’s got you blushing like that 👀 👀” someone commented.
billie read it, mumbling the words slightly, before giggling.
“guys if i tell you this you can’t tell anyone okay?” she smiled, multiple fans agreeing and promising.
“y/n makes me nervous cause i think she's super pretty,” she confessed, giggling like a schoolgirl and throwing her phone. she shrieked into a nearby pillow, not fully recognizing what she had done. she picked up her phone hastily when she heard the bathroom door open. the comments were flooded with excitement and support from her fans, and of course, a lot of teasing as well.
“shhhhh, she’s coming back. remember the promise,” she said, turning back to see you a couple feet from the couch.
“what’re you up to?” you said skeptically.
“nothing,” she said innocently, widening her eyes at the camera to remind them to stay quiet.
“uh huh,” you laughed.
“i went on live to show everyone our matching pyjamas,” she said.
“well show them then,” you said.
she set her phone down against her empty cocktail glass and got up, standing next to you.
the two of you backed up until the camera captured you two fully donning your matching pants and white tank tops. she ran back to her phone and sat on the couch.
“why are you acting funny?” you smiled at her, tilting your head.
“i’m not,” she laughed.
“okay billie,” you laughed back.
you sat down next to her, setting your head down on her shoulder, causing her to blush again.
“my parents 😫😫😫,” someone commented.
“this is too cute,” another one read.
“billie u need to tell her,” one said.
“what’s up with your comments?” you asked billie, looking up at her.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, looking away.
you shook your head and looked back at the screen.
“billie said you made her nervous because she thinks you’re REALLY pretty,” a comment read.
you barely caught it as billie pulled the phone up above your face.
“you guys are snitches byeee” she said, ending the live hastily.
you sat up straight, looking at her in the eyes.
“i caught that, y’know?” you said.
“they weren’t supposed to say anything,” billie mumbled, a shy smile playing on her lips as her eyes locked on the couch cushion below her.
you laughed softly.
“so whats this about?” you asked gently, trying to coax her attention back to you.
“you read the comment,” she said, voice just above a whisper.
“say it,” you said, lifting her chin with your fingers, “tell me.”
she took a moment to meet your eyes, your faces now only inches apart as you leaned forward.
“i think you’re really pretty,” she whispered, “and i think i might like you, in more than a friend way.”
you finally leaned forward, linking your lips in a tender kiss. she leaned towards you and you leaned back until you were barely upright against the armrest. she pulled away for a moment, looking at you with a cheesy smile.
“you’re so stupid, y’know that?”
#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish#billie eilish imagine#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish fluff#billie eilish x you#wlw
332 notes
·
View notes
Text
skincare sunday
1.6k / pairing: joel miller x f!reader
← masterlist
summary: you show Joel your skincare routine, he asks to join you.
warnings/information: Fluff, cozy!joel, fall!joel, implied established relationship, mentions of sex (but no actual sex), mentioned age difference, light swearing,fluffy fluff fluff because hot old man Joel Miller deserves it! work away those worry lines king!
A/N: enjoy xx these two make me cope with being single
Joel’s mixture of curiosity and boredom struck around eight o’clock at night.
The two of you had finished dinner, chicken pot pie with a golden crust and warm gravy to celebrate the start of fall and to fill your bellies with a distinct coziness. To Joel, fall was nearly all year round, the way he wore his flannels like an autumn badge of honor.
After offering to do the dishes, he settled on the couch with a beer and kicked up his feet to watch the Cowboys game.
Sundays were the perfect reset day. Clean house, freshly made bed, and food prepped to have his lunches set up for the rest of the week.
It was also nice to unwind and do your personal routine. You did your everything shower (and by everything, you meant everything). After feeling the fresh steam cleanse your pores, you start on your skincare regimen. This was when Joel’s mixture of curiosity and boredom struck.
“Whatcha doin’?” Joel’s tall figure loomed in the doorway to the bathroom as you finished running a brush through your damp hair.
You couldn’t help but smile. He never did like to stay away from you for long. “Just doing my skincare.” Joel was already invading his way into the small bathroom, picking up random bottles and rolling them around in his palm to read the label.
You watch as he squints and cranes his neck to read the minuscule writing.
“Th’hell is this?”
You roll your eyes with a sweet smile and take it out of his hand, settling it back on the counter. “You’re just askin’ to ask. To bug me.”
Joel lets out a playful scoff as he crosses his arm and leans his bicep against the frame once more. “Now that hurts my feelings, darlin’. I like to know what you do in here that takes you upwards of an hour.”
You sneer a face at him, and he meets yours with a kiss. You affectionately cup his chin between your fingers and gently swipe your thumb across his stubble.
“It’s just skincare, baby. Some people have really long routines, but everyone has different skin needs. I’m just trying to minimize my pores and keep my skin barrier hydrated.”
Joel lets a hum of interest roll off his tongue. He’s sort of become engrossed the more he looks across the counter. It probably looked like the side tray a surgeon uses with all the different tools they might need during an operation.
You had out your cotton swabs and small cotton rounds, a BHA liquid exfoliant, a niacinamide booster, a toner, and some moisturizer to seal it all in for the night. Joel looked somewhat intimidated, and this man didn’t fear much of anything.
You’ve tried before; you can’t say you’ve never asked, but Joel has yet to agree to a simple skincare night. But tonight was different, he looked a little fascinated as he squinted between the products and the smile on your face. It would make you happy, he knows that.
He takes a contemplative deep breath, hands on his hips before he decides with a slow nod. Fine, woman.
“Oh, Joel,” you coo excitedly as you grab his hand and forcibly yank him into the bathroom with you. “Wait-” you pause and put up your hands, observing his outfit.
Buttoned-up flannel, casual blue jeans with wear showing at the kneecaps, and his watch Sarah gave him a few years back. “No, this won’t do.”
He grumbles as you tug him into the bedroom, looking at you like you were out of your mind. “We’re doin’ skincare in the bedroom?”
You’re shuffling through his closet, having to pass by a large chunk of hangers that were just hanging flannels until you find him a comfy cotton shirt to wear. You moved to his dresser and rifled through the drawers, clutching a pair of dark grey sweatpants with a small Texas logo on the pocket. “You can’t just wear anything for skincare, you need to relax.”
He sighs loudly in a way of disobedience. He was never really one for relaxation. But he also wasn’t one to fuss with the lady of the house. He switched out of his stiff clothes and melted into his comfy sweats.
“Hate to admit it, feels good to get out of my jeans.” Joel’s approval is shown in the way his hands glide down the front of his chest to his abdomen, admiring the comfy tee.
“You know Joel, some people take off their day clothes as soon as they come home.”
He tuts at your teasing tone, closing the distance between you two as he plants a quick kiss on your lips.
“Now, back to the bathroom?”
“That’s right, cowboy. Skincare in the bathroom, we need to wash your face.”
He takes in a deep breath through his nostrils before doing what he’s told, and you praise him with a few heavy pats on his back.
You sit him on the closed toilet seat and wet a washcloth. You gently soak his face and begin to work a cleanser in with your fingers. Joel parts his legs and insists you stand in the open space he’s carved for you. His warm palms rest on the back of your upper thighs.
You blink slowly in contentment as he gently coasts his hands up and down your skin, from your hips to the ticklish backside of your knee.
“I love you.” You whisper, watching his face become one with the white foamy cleanser.
“I love you too, sweetie pie.”
You try to bite down on your smile and ignore the butterflies that spread through your stomach. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, Joel knows how to make you feel like a teenager again, in love for the first time. All those stupid country songs he sang in the truck felt true with Joel. Though you’d never tell him that.
All that love stopped when you saw his pores. “Jesus, Joel,” you go to pick at a few blackheads, but he swats your hands away.
“I agreed to the relaxing thing, not the pimple-popping thing.” His southern twang pings off the walls.
You roll your eyes, but he’s right, and you retreat to letting him enjoy his skincare. You gently wipe away the suds with the soaked washcloth and start his different serums. Joel even lets you put on the fluffy headband to keep his wild, silver-black locks out of his eyes.
“You look so cute.”
“Mhm, I know that’s right.” His voice is low and saturated in bliss.
He dips his eyes closed in relaxation. You take pleasure in helping him release a fraction of the tension he carries. Slowly he melts as your fingertips massage up his jawline and add gentle pressure as you circle his jawbone. His jaw goes slack at the sensation, admiring the way you work your fingers into the aching muscle.
“Gotta stop clenching your teeth, baby.” He doesn’t say anything, he knows it's a bad habit of his.
You let the serum sit, and you gently take his hands, add a glob of lotion, and give him a hand massage. He peeks his curious eyes open at the feeling, working up his fingers and over his knuckles, then his wrist.
“Fuck,” he finally mutters, eyelashes fluttering before his eyes give in and close again. He’s so sweet like this, uncaring of how he looked to others because it was just you. He could be himself with just you. He could breathe with just you.
You pump a little bit of facial moisturizer onto your fingertips and focus on his forehead, nose, and under his eyes. You take a little extra lotion and massage the skin on his neck. He hasn’t said a word in five minutes. He’ll be damned if he makes fun of how long you take to do your skincare ever again.
After tapping in the moisturizer, he looked like a whole new man.
“All,” you pause to press a gentle kiss on his lips before you stand up straight, “done.”
There���s a noticeable frown on his face when he realizes his time is up. “That’s it?”
You stifle a laugh and nod your head to the side, signaling for him to look in the mirror.
He groans lowly as he plants his hands on his knees and pushes himself up, straightening out with a few pops to his back, and looking at himself in the mirror. He looks from side to side, admiring the way his skin glows and glistens.
“Wow, it feels so,” He reaches his hands up to his face, and you quickly swat them away.
“Hey- no! No touching your face after skincare, not with your dirty hands.”
“Oh,” he mutters and nods quickly in slight understanding.
It was sweet to see Joel taken care of, and, more importantly, that you were the one aiding him.
“Thirty years younger already?” He asks to make you laugh, a large smile on his lips as he watches you throw your head back and giggle.
“I like the way you are now. Just a little maintenance is all.”
He likes the way he looks and feels. “What now?”
You purse your lips and wiggle your eyebrows. “We could read our books before bed or finish the Cowboys game… or we could do other things.”
His eyebrow cocks, and the left side of his mouth twitches in a cocky little smirk. “I like other things.”
You two race off to the bedroom, and enjoy the last few hours of your Sunday reset.
---
here's my masterlist!
**follow hellishfics and turn on notifications get updates on my fic postings**
#joel miller#pedro pascal#pedro pascal the last of us#pedro pascal joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller one shot#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#tlou#tlou fic#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#hellishjoel#joel miller fluff#joel miller imagine#fluff fic#joel miller one shot fluff
456 notes
·
View notes
Text
OK I WAS TOO UPSET TO WRITE THIS BUT NOW I AM ONLY MILDLY UPSET SO I WROTE IT
Your Worth | Canonverse Oneshot
✧ word count ➼ 1.3k
✧ notes ➼ canon!verse, hurt/comfort, negative self-talk, levi being comforting in his levi way
The door to your office flew open. It was already well into the evening. Nearly everyone should have returned to the barracks. You were hoping to have some alone time to process and catch up with paperwork. The previous few hours haven't been easy and you were coping by drowning yourself in tedious work.
Your body tensed as you heard Levi's distinct footsteps step into your office.
"What the hell is going on?" he asked sternly.
You put your pen down as you slowly looked up at your visibly agitated boyfriend. You had an idea as to what got him so upset, although you hoped it wasn't the case.
"What are you talking about?" you asked quietly.
He was holding a few sheets of paper in his hand. He placed one on your desk in front of you. Your heart sank upon reading it.
It was your request to the Commander to be removed from Levi's squad. You had submitted it early this morning, putting in substantial effort to get it to the Commander's office without Levi catching on.
You took the page from him roughly, frowning.
"Tch," you muttered in irritation. "He showed you?"
"It's my fucking squad, of course he showed me," Levi scolded.
You didn't respond. You knew he had a point. It was Levi's squad. He was the Captain. Of course he was going to find out sooner or later.
"Why are you requesting to be removed?" he asked with a gentler tone. "Did something happen?"
It wasn't like you to just suddenly do something like this. He had noticed that you had been acting differently or have been more reserved for the past few days. He had been expecting something to eventually happen, but nothing as extreme as this.
"_____," Levi nudged you once you didn't respond.
After a while, your lips finally parted to speak.
"I'm..." you mumbled quietly, "I'm holding you back."
"Ah?" Levi muttered, genuinely not expecting those words to come out of your mouth.
"You heard me. I'm holding you back," you reemphasized. "Everyone you had chosen for your squad is skilled with the gear or has a high amount of Titan kills and I'm just...me."
He took the paper back from you and set it to the side, sitting on your desk as he looked down at you as you sat in your office chair.
"...the fuck do you mean 'just' you?" he asked, although he already somewhat knew the answer. He knew that you were frequently plagued with feelings and thoughts of inadequacy.
You knew that he knew.
"What do you want me to say?" you exclaimed, frustrated beyond belief. "No matter what I do, there's someone that's better at it. There's someone with more kills, faster times, more respect, or whatever! No matter how much I try, no matter how much effort I put in, I will never be the person that someone goes to for help. There isn't the One Thing™ that I'm good at where someone would be like 'hey, _____ should be the one you ask for help from'. No, I'm always in the fucking background and being dead weight, so that is why I requested to be discharged from your squad. The last thing you need is to have me drag you down."
Levi was silent the entire time you rambled, never taking his eyes off you as he listened.
"You done?" he finally said once you stopped speaking.
You scowled at him again.
"Get out."
Levi promptly got up, but instead of walking out the door, he walked around your desk to where you were seated at.
"Get out!" you repeated, raising your voice.
"Not until you tell me that everything you just said was bullshit," he said sternly.
You clenched your jaw, frustrated. You wanted to tell him what he wanted to hear, but you couldn't lie to him. You did legitimately believe in everything you just said, in every flaw that you had just listed.
You groaned in frustration as you buried your face into your hands while gripping at your hair.
These feelings of inadequacy were not new. Feelings of never being good enough and your fear of failure was something that was just drilled into you as a child. You were always being compared to others and you eventually developed a worldview that made you feel like you had to "earn" your right to exist by being good at things. Not only that, but you had to "specialize" in it, which made it so that anytime someone else came along that was just as good at if not better than you at something, you felt like your entire life—including your right to live it—spiraled out of control.
Levi gently placed his hand on your shoulder.
"Hey," he said quietly.
He shook you a little bit once you didn't answer or move.
"_____, look at me."
You slowly leaned back from your desk to look at him.
Before your eyes could even focus properly on him, he gently flicked at your forehead.
"Quit pitying yourself," he said as he scowled.
You rubbed at your forehead, which was now slightly red as you pouted at him.
The pout was a good sign for him. It meant you were listening to what he was trying to say, despite how strong those intrusive thoughts were being.
He knelt down, so that he was eye-level with you, gazing at you with gentler eyes.
"What started this?" he asked quietly.
You looked away, but he immediately grabbed your chin and turned you towards him so that he was making eye contact with you.
You tried to resist against his grip, feeling incredibly embarrassed that he was still able to read you like an open book. You had prided yourself as being able to mask well to not be a burden to those around you, but that was never the case around Levi. You hated and loved it at the same time.
You sighed in defeat.
"I just heard some of the prospective recruits talking and mentioning who in the Scouts they looked up to, and I guess it was foolish of me to even think that my name would be mentioned, but a dumb part of me hoped that I at least contributed something, something to be remembered for if I died," you began rambling, taking a deep breath to keep your voice from breaking as your frustration and self-hate threatened to boil over. "But there isn't, is there? As far as everyone else is concerned, I'm either your partner or just another soldier. I'm not anyone special-"
"Cut that shit out," Levi scolded, not giving you a chance to finish your rambling this time.
You stopped talking, but looked at him with hurt in your eyes.
"I know how important external validation is to you, but the cadets are talking out of their ass and you know it," he said as he looked intensely in your eyes. "You know they don't know shit about what any of us actually do—and it certainly doesn't warrant you requesting to be discharged from the squad."
He sighed and let go of your chin, instead moving to gently place his palm on the side of your face, allowing you to take comfort in his touch. It at least helped ground you when you felt like your emotions were taking over your entire world.
"You're worth more than you know," he said gently before pulling you in and gently placing his lips against yours, lingering for a few seconds until he felt you relax into him.
He placed his other hand on your thigh and gently squeezed as he slowly began to deepen the kiss before finally pulling away and resting his forehead on yours.
"And if I have to remind you of that every single day of your life, I will."
ok this was cathartic, ty to anyone who took the time to read :3
#: @chaotic-on-main @romantichomicide95 @lovolee3 @svftackerman @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @idkks4m @moonmalice @elnyrae @sleepyfairyxo @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @belovedackerman @bejewelledd @fuyulvr @sad-darksoul @levis-squishy-cheeks @roseofdarknessblog @anviacker @aam1na @luvjiro @noctemys @sixpennydame @dumbfound-princess @raenacreates @deepzombieyouth
join my taglist!
#hey i at least wrote something today#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi heichou x reader#captain levi x reader#levi fluff#levi hurt/comfort#levi#levi ackerman#levi heichou#captain levi#attack on titan#aot#shingeki no kyojin#shingeki no kyoujin#snk
642 notes
·
View notes
Text
If only I could make you believe you deserve everything
pairing: kaveh x reader (can be read platonically or romantically)
genre: hurt/comfort, angst
summary: life is awful at times. very much so that you end up falling back to bad habits to get you through it.
luckily, you have kaveh to help you guide back to the right track.
word count: 4.2k
notes: hii!! first post! (and its hurt/comfort RAHHHH) kaveh might be a little ooc as i havent gotten to him in the archon quest yet, so i apologize for that in advance!
i poured my heart and soul and my own personal experiences into this,,
i apologize if the comfort is a lil wonky.
title is inspired by Nicole Dollanganger’s song “Please Eat”.
trigger warning(s): mentions of ed/having an ed, descriptive experience of having an ed, mentions of relapsing into unhealthy coping mechanisms, self inflicted harm (self harm), descriptions of self-contempt, descriptions of feelings of unworthiness.
let me know if i missed any warnings
It had been a while since the last time you’d done this. The thought of even returning back to this state was beyond you. Everything had been going so well it seemed. Sure, life still threw inconveniences towards you, but you handled them just fine, you thought.
Clearly not, as you’re now back to restraining yourself from eating and indulging yourself from something that’s vital for you to live. You knew the risks of refusing yourself food, you’d read all about the consequences and health risks of starving yourself.
Yet that is the precise reason you’re doing this.
You know how harmful this is and you know it’s bad. The knowledge of the dangers and harm in doing it is exactly why you continue doing it though: It’s your punishment.
A sigh escapes your lips as you try concentrating on the paper that lay before you instead of the numbness that starts taking over your legs and the quivering of your hand. There isn’t any way for you to not notice how your body is screaming out for something to eat. It’s constantly reminding you as your vision is clouded with dark spots whenever you move and how your body shakes as you do any everyday task. Despite its cries for food, you ignore it and open the lid to the water bottle beside you and empty half of it to ignore the ache in your stomach due to its emptiness.
It helps, somewhat, as it fools your stomach for sometime at least. In a shaky motion you place the water bottle beside the pile of assignments you have to finish before the end of this week.
It’s difficult to get anything done when the ache in your stomach extends to the rest of your body, making the most simple task like reading over the text presented in front of you and writing down notes feeling so incredibly demanding on your body. A groan escapes your lips as you lean back into the chair and drag your hand across your face in annoyance. You need to finish these assignments, yet you can’t. Everything feels so hazy and your mind is blank, unable to think of anything other than the feeling of hunger growing more intense.
The bustling from the kitchen can be heard all the way into your room.
Usually at this hour you’d sit by the kitchen table and eat with Alhaitham and Kaveh, but you’ve locked yourself away in your room, drowning yourself in work to ignore the deep wretched feelings that linger within you. A faint knock on the door echoes throughout the room as a voice calls out from the other side. It’s Kaveh’s voice, calling out to you.
"(Y/N)?" Your name is muffled by the closed door as you turn around in your seat to look at the source of the sound. There stands Kaveh, holding a plate with food in his hand while the other one is still gripping onto the door handle.
Your eyes quickly scan his face before they dart down to look at the plate he’s holding.
It’s too much, you think as you look at the contents of the food. Numbers appear inside your head the longer you stare at the plate, feeling repulsed at the thought of putting anything in your mouth and fulfilling your hunger at the cost of the imaginary numbers going up.
You turn around to face the paper you’ve been staring blankly at for the last hour, waving Kaveh off.
“I’ve already eaten.” You answer courtly. You haven’t, but telling him you weren’t hungry wasn’t an option. Kaveh would be reluctant had you answered that you weren’t hungry and placed the food by your table instead. The thought alone that he might do that makes you want to cry and scream in panic. You can’t risk letting yourself indulge in the food that he’s made: You must go through with your own punishment.
Kaveh sighs and grabs the door handle, about to leave and close the door before the sound of your stomach growling bounces off the walls. He stops in his tracks as his grip on the plate tightens. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you tense up at how your stomach contradicts your words from earlier. A deep terror stirs within you as your thoughts wander off to all the possible reactions you might receive from the blond man at the revelation. You hear how he shuffles behind you and closes the door behind him as he approaches you. You dare not to turn around to look at him, instead you hold up your face above the paper and stare intently onto it, trying to focus on the words that dance around across the paper to ignore Kaveh’s look of pity and concern.
Kaveh is standing right next to you, his grip on the plate is so incredibly tight that his knuckles have gone white. His eyes are soft and laced with worry as he looks down on you, and to be honest; he’s not sure how to handle this situation he’s being faced with right now. He places the plate next to your bedside table instead of the table in front of you, knowing better than shoving unwanted food up your face. It’s not what you need right now.
Kaveh sits on the side of your bed, boring his eyes into the back of your head as he waits for you to do the first move, to begin the conversation. He doesn’t want to scare you off now that he’s found out. He can feel the pain within you. He can see the hurt and the desperation, but he has no words to fill the silence. He doesn't know how he could possibly help you, but he wants to.
More than that, he wants to try.
“I’m fine” you try to subside the situation, playing it off to only being a one time thing when it’s clear to the both of you that it isn’t.
Kaveh interrupts you.
“You’re not fine.” Kaveh still has the same gentleness to him, but there’s a certain amount of firmness to his words too. It leaves no room for you to slither your way out of his confrontation.
“Are you hurting yourself? Are you starving yourself?”
The words feel like he had just physically assaulted you, as if he had pulled out a knife and stabbed you in the chest while twirling the knife around inside of your heart. The words feel as if Kaveh had just falsely accused you of a crime you hadn’t committed.
But the two of you know better than that. You both know that the reason you feel so attacked is because Kaveh is calling you out, and rightfully so.
“No! No. I am not starving myself.”
The words come out much harsher than you had intended them to be, sounding defensive and giving yourself away to Kaveh. The pile of paperwork that needs to be done stares at you mockingly as you look down on the paper in front of you that is still blank.
“I’m just- I don’t want to eat.” It’s half the truth. You do in fact not want to eat, but it’s for all the wrong reasons you don’t want to eat. Kaveh sighs as he gets up from your bed and walks up behind you. For a moment he almost reaches out to you, but he draws his hand back and places it on your chair instead of your shoulder, like he had intended to. He’s reluctant to touch you. In this moment right now, you’re fragile, and he must tread carefully so as to not break you.
“Do you think I don’t see it?” His voice is gentle, but there’s a certain edge to it. It cuts right through any excuses that might slip past your mouth to escape this conversation neither of you want to have. The words have you cornered, and as if you were reliving an experience much like this -where you were confronted and you admitted, only to be rejected from the care and help you needed- you feel a need to run away from him. To run away from your home, from the house, run, run and run.
But where would you run? There’s no way for you to run away from him, and even if you did: Where would you run?
Would you even have the energy to run away from him with the way your vision would cloud with black spots covering your sight and with the way your legs feel numb?
Reality hits you like a brick as you realize that Kaveh has you cornered and at his mercy.
A hitched breath escapes your lips as you feel your hands and feet going cold along with being overcome by dreadfulness as the situation you’re in slowly sinks in.
“This is unhealthy, and you know it, don’t you?” It’s not much of a question really. His voice is firm, trying to cover up his own shakiness as your condition dawns upon him.
“Please.. could you talk to me?” he pleads, letting his hand fall from the chair, down to your shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze. The contact makes you flinch as it pulls you back from your swarm of thoughts, back into the present with him. The words seem stuck in your mouth, suffocating you and preventing you from voicing your thoughts and feelings that you’re left only shaking your head at his request of opening up. Kaveh lets out a sigh as he lets his hand fall from your shoulder. For a moment, you think he’s given up on you and will leave you alone to deal with your misery by yourself; the thought causes you both pain and relief. Instead, he walks around your chair and crouches next to you as he looks up to you from below.
“Please. Talk to me.” he begins as he balances himself on the armrest all while tilting his head up at you.
“What can I do to help you? You can tell me anything.”
“I don’t know!” you finally exclaim as your face falls into your hands. You inhale shakily as Kaveh continues to inspect your face for something, anything.
“I don’t.. know.”
Everything around you spins like an unpleasant merry-go-round ride as your vision becomes clouded by the black spots appearing before you.
One of the consequences of not eating, you suppose.
How you wished that you could’ve kept this secret from him a little longer. Long enough for him to not have to have this confrontation with you right now.
Kaveh can only feel pity as he looks at you. You look so fragile right now, so weak. It hurts him to see you so, to see your body shaking from your hunger.
He has a question that he wants to ask, but he feels afraid to. You don't owe him anything, he supposes.
"Why are you doing this to yourself?" How do you ask someone why they are harming themselves? How do you say that without it coming across in a terrible way? Kaveh had an immense sense of empathy, but even that had its limits.
"I deserve it."
The words slip out your mouth with ease, as if the question had no other answer but that. Tears that you had been holding back from the moment your secret was out swell up in your eyes and threaten to fall down on the blank, empty paper sheet that should’ve been filled in by now. The dripping of your tears resounds in your head and you pray that Kaveh doesn’t hear how you’re covering your paperwork in tears.
"I deserve it." You repeat the words shakily this time as a sob finally manages to escape your mouth. All you want to do is make yourself as small as possible so you can just vanish from the earth’s surface. But you can’t.
So you do the next best thing, which is curling yourself into a ball while you let the tears flow down your cheeks as your entire form tenses up and shakes from the anguish you feel inside of you.
Several feelings washes over Kaveh. Ones of confusion, concern and guilt.
You don't deserve this.
Nobody deserves to feel so low. And you are so, so very low: starving yourself just as a punishment.
He can't help but feel pity for you. The words come out before he can even stop them from slipping past his lips: "Why do you deserve it?"
He's trying to be kind and supportive, he really is, but it's painfully hard for him to find the right words. It’s difficult seeing a loved one tear themselves apart in front of him all while thinking they deserve to suffer and break.
His question is one not even you can answer. It’s a question that you’ve pondered about whenever you’ve come to your senses after having breakdowns much like these, and each time you’re left with no answer. There's only that part of you, that little tiny voice in the back of your head that tells you that you deserve nothing less than pain and suffering. That this is the only way for you to get rid of the mental turmoil you experience on a daily basis.
That the only way to get rid of the emotional and mental pain is to double the physical pain, and what easier way is there to feel physical pain if it isn’t to inflict it upon yourself; by yourself?
How do you help someone who believes that?
It's not like you can just tell them that they don't deserve it. How could he ever convince you that you’re wrong? How can he convince you that there's a better way than starving and hurting yourself?
How is any of this supposed to be okay for you?
"(Y/N)," he calls out your name, the sound of his voice pleading yet somehow still kind, "(Y/N). There is no reason to hurt yourself. You deserve better."
As if you weren’t already curled into a ball you only manage to make yourself smaller as you cry, your entire form shaking. It's not till now that he's so up close to you that he sees how your body is covered in goosebumps and the bruises that linger across your body. They look self-inflicted and Kaveh can't help but let out a wince as he looks at the bruises that cover your skin.
He tries his hardest to contain his horror at seeing what you’ve done to herself. It looks so painful, so terrible, but it's clear from your shivering, from your shaking, from the way your face crumples - from the way you curl up into a ball so easily - that this isn't your first time.
You’re hurting, and at your own hand.
He doesn't know how to process that. He has never seen anyone do this to themselves. He can't imagine how any of this could be good.
Your grip on your legs only grows tightens as you cry into your knees, on the verge of wailing from feeling how your heart aches. It’s as if someone is tightening their grip on your already fragile heart, and it hurts so very much.
You could handle feeling hungry, and you could handle inflicting pain upon yourself, littering your body with bruises to show for it. Yet you couldn’t handle the feelings inside of you that were crushing you and tearing you apart. You had learnt to handle your inner turmoil by ignoring the feelings until they grew so great that the only way to rid yourself of the demons surrounding you was to hurt them through yourself.
The relief was only temporary, sure, but you’d do anything for the moment of peace in your inferno called your own mind.
He sighs heavily, the sound filled with regret and pity. Kaveh doesn’t say anything and remains looking up to your face as you quickly unravel before him.
This is beyond him. He doesn't know how to comfort you- how to help you. He has no idea what to say or what to do. It’s all so overwhelming - all these feelings of fear and confusion and pity and care - that he doesn't even know how to begin to process, let alone express.
He places a gentle, comforting hand on your knee as you continue to cry. You’re so up in your own thoughts and emotions that you can’t get yourself to pull away from his touch.
It’s not that his touch wasn’t comforting. It was very comforting.
And that was exactly why you wanted to pull away from his touch.
You don’t deserve that kind of comfort.
"I'm sorry.." the words come out so weak, putting your broken state on full display for Kaveh. A sob escapes your mouth as you try your best regaining your composure to no avail. Each breath you try and take control over gets interrupted by a sob or a gasp for air.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you repeat as you burrow your face further into your knees. Your words are slurring as you’re choking back your cries to get the words out of your mouth.
Kaveh doesn't even understand what you could possibly have to be sorry for. You've done nothing wrong. You've committed no sins worth feeling so terrible for.
But how does he tell you that? How could he convince you of the truth that appears so clearly to him but isn’t as obvious for you?
He doesn't.
How does he convince you to get past these terrible feelings of wrongness, when you’re so very convinced that it's your punishment? How does he convince you to give yourself kindness and care, when you believe yourself so unworthy? How does he make you realize that this isn't your fault, that you haven't done anything that deserves all of this?
Kaveh moves closer to you - so carefully, so slowly. As if you’re something fragile, to be treated with respect and care. Because you are fragile. You’re hurt, and you’re so, so small. All he wants to do is to hold you, to bring you comfort, to hug you, to hold you in his arms. He just wants to lift your heavy burden off of your shoulders. But he doesn’t reach out to do any of that, it doesn’t feel appropriate to do so right now as you’re sobbing in front of him and curling yourself into a ball.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he says quietly. "You're hurting yourself, and that can't be okay. Please," he adds, his voice pleading, "Let me try to help you. You don't have to do this. You don't deserve to do this."
You had always had a hard time accepting other people’s kindness and comfort, it was extremely difficult for you to understand and wrap your head around the concept of being treated with decency and care from another being without expecting anything back in return. The feelings overwhelm you and you feel how you want to throw up from Kaveh’s attentiveness, it’s all too much for you.
You’d rather have him walk out on you and leave you in your pitiful state to fend for yourself. It’s what you’re used to. And when he breaks what you consider a norm, your world falls apart with it.
The tears flow down your cheeks as if they’ll never come to an end.
Kaveh can see it from the way you gasp and wail when his words of care finally register.
It’s written all over your face - your pain, your hurt - it’s clear that you’re not used to being treated with such care and attention. It’s clear that this isn’t something you’re used to; it’s clear that you’re not used to having someone trying to help you.
It breaks Kaveh’s heart to see you struggle like this. He doesn’t know how he can get you to accept this treatment from him, from anyone.
He wants nothing in return; he only wants to help. How can he get you to understand that? How could he ever assure someone that they’re deserving of unconditional care and love when that very someone is so fully convinced that they deserve pain?
"You need help," he says quietly. "Let me help you."
Why do you deserve to suffer, to hurt yourself, when you’ve done nothing wrong? Why are you so cruel to yourself? Kaveh lets the thought wander in his head for some time before he shakes his head in disbelief. He can’t come to any reasonable conclusion as to why you’d be so cruel to yourself. He could only speculate.
Is this why you hurt yourself? The thought intrudes him, as he tries to stay focused on comforting you.
Because you feel like you don’t deserve kindness?
But why? Why wouldn't you deserve kindness? This isn't because of any mistakes you’ve made, is it? Has someone made you believe this? Or is it something that you’ve always thought? Either way, you’re wrong. You deserve kindness. You deserve the world.
You deserve to be treated well.
"You deserve so much better," he says quietly, "You aren't pitiful. I promise you that you are so much more than what you tell yourself you are."
Kaveh places his hands on top of yours as he rubs comforting circles with his thumb on the back of your palms. Another sob escapes your lips at his attempts to soothe your ache. He can feel the way you tremble under his hands as he gives you a gentle squeeze of comfort to stabilize your quivering form, even if it's just by a little bit. He keeps rubbing, still trying to help you. Neither of you say anything and the only thing to be heard in the room is the sound of your rapid breathing and hitched sobs. And while the tremors still persist, your sobs are becoming less frantic. He thinks he might be comforting her just slightly, but it's good enough for now. At least it’s a start.
Kaveh wants to say something, but he doesn't know what to say. He's never been in a situation like this before. He doesn't want to sound like an idiot. But he also doesn't want to stay silent.
He cannot bear to see you like this, and he doesn't want to imagine how much pain you’ve been carrying for you to end up here like this.
He wants so badly for you to be okay. He wants nothing more than to give you his care and comfort. Kaveh gets up from his crouching position and feels his legs tingle from sitting like that for so long, but he ignores it. It’s not important right now. What is, is you and your wellbeing.
He assumes that if you responded positively to having him rub your hand, then maybe you'd respond better to affectionate comfort. Kaveh is reluctant at first. A hug is much more personal, much more intimate than drawing circles on someone's palm. So he asks.
"Is it okay if I hug you?"
You tense up at the request reluctantly. Granted, you and Kaveh would usually greet one another by giving a quick hug with a pat on the back before getting to it. But this was different. Much different from those lighthearted moments you’d share before you go off to wherever you had planned on doing for the day, whether that was taking a walk amongst the streets of the city or just enjoying one another's presence as you work deliberately.
You’re hesitant, and Kaveh is about to reassure you that it’s fine if you don’t want to until he sees a small nod coming from you. Your eyes quickly dart down to meet his before you avert your gaze from him, feeling the shame and embarrassment crawl along your back amongst the other feelings that roam inside of you.
Kaveh is quick to act as he pulls you into his embrace.
He holds you protectively, as if he just holds you close enough to him he'll be able to shield you from the cold, cruel world that's hurt you so. You just want to hold on to him. Just wants him to hold you, to hug you and hold you close to him.
The warmth is so comforting, so very comforting that the little voice in your head tells you that you aren't worthy of this kind of affection. That you don’t deserve to be cared for like this, and a part of you still holds onto that truth. Despite that, you cling onto him as if he were your lifeline, the very last thread that was keeping you from floating away. You want this- you’ve been yearning for someone to hold you like this, and even though a loud part of you disagrees- that part of you that tells you that you’re not deserving of this- you can’t help but bask in his warmth that he provides for you.
The plate on your bedside table catches his eye, long forgotten. The food had obviously gone cold by now.
Whatever, Kaveh thinks. It doesn’t matter, he can always just warm it up later. What matters is that he helps you back on your feet and support you through this.
You don’t have to fend for yourself anymore. He’s here now, and he’ll help you through it. He may not be capable of chasing away your demons for you, but you’ll always have his endless support.
He’ll spend an eternity if it means he could make you believe that you deserve everything.
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#kaveh x reader#kaveh comfort#kaveh angst#kaveh hurt/comfort#genshin angst#genshin impact angst#genshin comfort#genshin impact comfort#genshin x you#genshin impact x you
435 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay narc abuse this narc abuse that
How bout y'all share your favorite ways to cope with a crash
Here are some of mine
1. I join close knit communities involving my interest/s and am active in them frequently. After a while, the people start recognizing me and when I share something I'm proud of (even if I made it pre-crash) some people will notice and comment on it, which boosts my confidence a little! My art means a lot to me and I tie most of my self worth on it, so people complimenting my art by extension compliment me too. You don't have to be an artist for this, just doing anything you're good at and you love and having people notice this might help you feel a bit better
2. When I'm having a somewhat minor crash (or right after a major crash when I've ridden it out and am feeling a bit better) I go on sprees where I do good stuff for people, I give money to the homeless, I buy gifts for my family members, I compliment a stranger etc, people usually notice this and thank me for it which also helps me feel a bit better about myself (note - I do these things one and off without crashes, but I usually binge-do-good when I'm feeling especially low hahaha) (dunno how much this one works about actually upping your ego, but I personally tie worth as a concept to being a good person, so actively and provably being a good person immediately helps me with perceiving my worth as a human being)
3. Tumblr drafts 😭😭😭😭😭 I've noticed that journaling and venting in my notes doesn't help because nobody sees it and the lack of attention makes me get even worse, and venting to people drives them away from me and makes me uncomfortable so I've avoided venting and I bottle up my emotions a lot which usually actually drives me into a crash in the first place. So I started writing and formatting my vents as actual tumblr posts that I'm totally planning to post, and I tag them and everything, but then I save them as drafts. This way, for some reason, my brain sees this as "yes. You will now post about what's bothering you and many people will see this and like and reblog this!!! You'll be so noticed and cool and get so much attention!!!" Which makes me feel better in the moment, except as I get better I forget about the drafted post so I also simultaneously save my privacy while I'm at it looollll
I mean arguably, all of these are for some mild-er crashes and usually for some bigger ones I don't really have a coping mechanism so I just lie in my bed, shake and feel cold for weeks until I finally get the energy to get up, but honestly even if I can make it a little bit easier for me, I will
Anyway feel free to share your favorite coping methods too!
#guys i know all of this is common knowledge and probably not very helpful#but still i want to share a little bit of positivity especially with my feed recently mostly being about narcissistic abuse#so bear with me for a moment on this one#npd#actually npd#npd positivity#npd safe
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
Do you want me or do you not?
⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/Reader
⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥 ≫ Cloud saw a letter with his name written on it, inside your diary
⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ angst!, reader not being present, guilt, not proofread!!
⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ I'm back again!! I don't like this drabble really much but I've spent sm time writing it that I thought I'd post it lol. Sorry if it's a bit shitty 🤧
⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 1718
"Do you want me or do you not?"
His hands held the once hated paper as if it was worth millions of gils.
Cold fairies travelled up his spine, reminding him of the future he will never have with you.
A part of him was still attached to the past, a great part. That was his way to cope with everything that had happened in his life, swimming in a deep, deep pool of sorrow and unreached dreams.
Maybe he shouldn't have taken that path a long time ago.
Maybe he shouldn't have fallen deeply from your silk hands, following people he knew didn't speak to him like you did.
Or maybe his destiny was to end up like this, alone again.
His steps were curiously more careful, his inner voice telling him ( shouting at him ) that he should've been more careful.
But who could really blame him?
. . .
"Hey there"
Sometimes you would greet him with a smile, which he didn't return. Or some whispered out "hi", but this wasn't your usual greeting.
Your arms enveloped him for an instant, your cheek against his chest as you pressed further into him.
He could smell you and he liked it, he always liked clean ambiences. Something weird as he constantly had to smell Midgar's dirty air, but he didn't mind smelling sweet, fruity shampoos.
You parted from him as his hands stayed still against his sides, afraid of moving them too much.
As soon as he sat on a stool in the bar, you had a drink already waiting for him.
And he hated it.
He knew that he was being such a dick, but his mind couldn't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable by your warm and so pleasant touches.
He wanted to be happy just for once, god you were giving him his favourite drink!
But weighs and weighs of stress and unsolved problems occupied more volume than his own welfare.
"Do you not like it?"
His gaze then looked at your confused eyes.
"I'm sorry I thought you did, I can always ch-"
"It's alright"
That's it?
You got nothing more to say than that?
His eyes looked at your ... he wasn't going to lie, he really did not know how to read the emotions you had hiding between those gorgerous orbs.
And he wished he did
So as your hands quickly retrieved themselves from changing the liquid, you were back to the chores Tifa probably told you to please do.
He wanted to go, not because you were there but because he was suddenly so nervous he needed "fresh" air.
So that's what he did, not before muttering a low "thanks" and wishing you a good night before stepping outside the bar once again.
He surely didn't want to go home, he didn't want the sun to come up, but on top of all of those wishes, he didn't know what he wanted to truly do.
So his feet, followed by a loud metallic "clank!" that quieted down the louder rumble of the city, dragged him through alleys.
His eyes looked everywhere, dimly lighted appartaments, people that were still returning home from work.
Would they visit their kids?
Their cats? Dogs?
Their partnerts?
He wouldn't wish anyone to be him.
And he ceirtanly day-dreamed about becoming some stranger on the streets.
He often recieved comments from some boys about how handsome he was, that he surely had a long pile of women on his palm.
But was it really worth it?
He didn't need women to love him, he didn't need nobody to love him.
Nobody but someone to hold at night, someone to lull him back to sleep after a rough night.
( he needed you )
. . .
And yet he was here, waiting for you to walk back into your room as he stared into the blank wall.
He remembers the day he moved in next door to you in Midgar, both of your rooms were so different you made him self-concious about his own decisions of decoration.
The way you would lit up the darkness of his empty room the moment you placed your feet inside of it.
But now they all remained just as memories
Memories that soon would dissapear into the void of his enigmatic mind.
He knew there was going to be a time that his brain, naturally, would forget how your face looked like.
How your voice sounded like.
The warmth of your shy touches against his skin.
And he didn't want that time to come, not ever.
But he was far, far away from where it all had started. The nostalgia of your steps as you guided him through Midgar, Nibelheim ( although he knew it like the back of his hand ) Gold saucer. . .
And finally, your room
Which was the place he was standing on right now, trying to read a note you wrote who knows when.
He knows he shouldn't be doing this, rumaging through your personal belongings. But once he had opened your diary and saw his name written on it, he had to take a look.
. . .
" He feels like a ray of sun after a storm, warm and welcoming you back to the sweet and beautiful world you once knew "
" Today I walked with him all through sector 5, he was so cute waiting for me while I asked him which clothes he liked most "
" I don't want to lose him ever again, not after what happened today "
" Maybe he likes Aerith, I see the way his eyes linger on her smile for quite a while "
" Maybe I'm being annoying but I don't get why he doesn't want me to take him home! We live right next to eachother >:( "
" Yesterday I laughed a lot when Tifa called him an angry chocobo, he sure looks like one of those big birds "
" I wonder what he thinks of me. .
. . .
And then he saw it, a ruffled up small paper smashed against the last two pages of the little book. But when he grabbed it, he wished he didn't.
At first he found it quite hard to read as he got used to how you would normally write, but it was clear that you were upset in this one.
There were also some harsh drawn lines on top of your words, a mess of your thoughts and anger. All of the slurred out words came to the same conclusion.
Did he want you or did he not?!?
It is all so confusing, first he speaks to me kindly, he even cracks a few jokes! But then he comes back to this... cold and closed personality. Maybe I'm being dumb about this, maybe he just sees me as a friend just like he would with Barret or Tifa. Well, Tifa... Why am I being jealous of her? I don't want to feel like this, she has all the rights to be close to him. Hell, she was her bestfriend ever since they were little kids. But then again, why does he speak to me like he isn't interested in me??
Why does he talk to me like that if so?
He turned his eyes out of those last words, now understanding why you acted like that whenever he was around you.
Why you were gone now.
The first feeling that flooded his entire organism was guilt, that familiar clench inside his lower stomach. Then he went over 10 different ways he could have had you with him right now.
And they all ended up talking
Just that simple, right?
But the way his mind would automatically go blank whenever you spoke to him about something serious, the innability to express his real feelings without letting out lies instead.
And to add up to how deeply dumb he felt, it was a surprise for him to have just discovered that you actually felt the same for him ever since.
. . .
Going inside a cave wasn't really a good idea thanks to all the cons it has, confusing as a maze, bad lighting and of course, how cold they usually are.
So he wasn't really surprised that after the group had divided itself, you all ended up kind of lost. Next to Barret, he tried to stay calm as he tried to search Tifa, Red and, of course, you.
"Where the hell are we?"
Barret's loud voice echoed through the hard walls, making Cloud flinch as he tried to guide themselves into the exit.
After walking for quite a while, he found a strange section inside the cave that was way colder than the other ones. And when he was about to step into the other section next to it, he heard you.
But he didn't hear the chatting he had thought he would have listened, instead he heard a loud gasp, followed by some shoes ruffling.
And by the time his eyes were searching for you, he looked up to see you almost crushing him down into the ground. But of course, he was fast enough to catch you.
A blur of voices surrounded his mind, but the only thing that it was paying attetion to was the way your cool body fit in between his arms.
Your arms curled up against his chest as your mouth moved, probably surprised to had fallen into his arms instead of hard rocks.
. . .
He never will forget how you felt on his arms.
Reminiscing about past events had became his usual routine whenever he thought about you, he couldn't do anything more either way.
But it was pointless now, no matter how hard he tried to imagine yourself again, you weren't there.
And it was now when he finally had figured out why his words seemed not to seep out of his mouth as smoothly as usual with you.
Right after the group had started to live normal lifes again after the meteor, you were gone, far away from his reach. Or maybe you were right beside him, who knows.
He often wondered if you still dreamt about what happened in Midgar, Nibelheim, Junon...
He needed to find you.
But where shall he start?
#[ 📄 c0smos!drabbles ]#angst‼️#cloud strife#ff7#ff7 x reader#final fantasy vii#final fantasy x reader#cloud strife x reader#cloud x reader#ffvii x reader#ffvii cloud#ffviir#final fantasy fic#final fantasy angst#ff7 fanfic#ff7 fic#cloud ff7#final fantasy vii remake#final fantasy cloud#final fantasy 7#ffvii#cloud#cloud strife x you
257 notes
·
View notes
Note
heyy! how are you? Could you write a story in which reader and there close friends get into a serious argument which ruins there relationship and there close friend reveals that reader has a crush on Draco and reader somehow runs into Draco and then cries into his arms as he comforts her. This happened to me (the first part not the second part, my crush sided with my friend) and I feel like it'd help me cope xx make any changes as suitable!
Sorry if this is too long to read and if you have a similar request then ignore this xx
Love your writing btw xx
First of all I want to say that I am really sorry that this happened to you and I hope that by now everything turned out somewhat good again. Much, much love and strength to you and I really hope I got everything right and that you will like this fic!
I really suck at making up fights out of nowhere, so this kinda felt like I forced it to escalate but I hope that it all still makes sense and you enjoy reading (even though I´ve done some characters really dirty in this fic).
False friends and true love
You stared into the fire crackling inside the fireplace of your common room. You felt your eyes getting heavy as you watched the flames dancing, and the chattering of your friends lulled you in. You sighed comfortably as you snuggled up even more into the cosy blanket covering you, your eyes lazily drifting from the fireplace to your friends who had spread on the couches and armchairs next to you, talking about the latest Quidditch matches, homework and the upcoming exams.
You barely even noticed how you became dizzier and dizzier, slowly drifting off into sleep, until suddenly, your head fell to the side, hitting something hard, making you jolt up again, looking around in confusion.
“Easy there, (Y/n).”, you heard a voice chuckling next to you.
You turned your head and blinked at Draco in confusion, who grinned at you with a smug look on his face.
“Sorry, almost fell asleep.”, you mumbled, your face heating up immediately as you realized that your head had fallen, out of all the possibilities, on Draco´s shoulder.
“Nothing to be sorry about.”, your friend answered, the smile on his face only growing wider. “I´m glad to serve as your pillow. Even though I consider myself quite disappointed that apparently, our company isn´t entertaining enough to keep you awake.”
His snarky remark made you return his smile immediately.
“If you want to put it this way. But you could also argue that it is so soothing that I even feel safe enough to fall asleep.”
“I think I like this version much better, love.”, Draco chuckled.
“But regardless of your comforting company, I think I still prefer my own bed. So have a good night.”
You wanted to stand up, but Draco held you back.
“Are you sure you already want to leave, (Y/n)? You know, I wouldn’t mind functioning as your sleeping place once more.”
You let out a small laugh.
“I bet you don´t. But I feel like my neck wouldn’t benefit from this.”
“Well, if you should change your mind, you know where to find me.”, Draco winked, making the blush return to your face.
“Whatever.”, you huffed, quickly turning away from your friend, hoping he wouldn’t notice your flustered state. “Goodnight y´all.”
“I´ll join you.”, Pansy stated and quickly got up as well. But the mischievous look in her eyes already told you that she wasn’t doing so because she was tired.
And you were right. As soon as the door of the dorm you shared with your friend closed behind you, Pansy crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at you with narrowed eyes.
At first, you seriously considered ignoring your friend, but soon enough you realized that this strategy wouldn’t get you anywhere. You knew Pansy was rather determined and once she had something on her mind, she wouldn’t rest until she had gotten what she wanted.
You sighed as you let yourself fall onto the bed, looking at Pansy, while tilting your head.
“Alright, what is it?”
You already had a faint suspicion, still, you weren’t willing to give in that easily.
“Are you for real? Isn´t it obvious?”
“Obviously not, so would you care to enlighten me?”
Pansy walked up to you and dropped onto your bed right next to you. With the slyest grin, she looked at you.
“Draco and you?”
“Draco and me what?”, you asked, trying to act the innocent, even though you knew you failed spectacularly.
“Merlin, (Y/n). You could have cut the tension with a knife back in there. For a second, I thought that boy would just take you to his dorm immediately.”
“Pansy!”, you snapped, slapping her arm, but your friend just laughed.
“Tell me I´m wrong and tell me you wouldn’t have gladly joined him.”
“Obviously I wouldn’t.”, you said, but it was a lie and Pansy knew it just as well as you.
You had had a crush on Draco ever since you could remember and ever since you could remember, Pansy teased you about it. At first, you had really tried to deny your feelings for Draco, not only in front of Pansy but also yourself, but there was absolutely no point in lying. Neither to yourself nor to your friend. Pansy knew you like the back of her hand and to her, you were like an open book. She had often encouraged you to try and talk to Draco, assuring you that she was rather sure that he shared the feelings you held for him as well, but until now you had never dared to do so. Still, Pansy had never given up. And neither did she now.
“You could have just stayed and cuddled with him. He even told you he wouldn’t have minded. And you can´t tell me that there´s a single guy out there who would let you do so unless he is all over you.”
“Or unless he´s a good friend.”
“Oh yeah, because you cuddle with Blaise all the time. Or Crabbe. Or Goyle.”
“That´s different. They just ain´t that much into it.”
“But Draco is?”
“Well, obviously.”
“But only with you.”
“That´s not true.”
“So have you ever seen him cuddle with someone else?”
You hesitated for a moment. Because even though you hated to admit – Pansy was somehow right. You really had never seen Draco comfortable with anyone else being near him in that way before. Actually, most of the time, when other people came close to him, he backed up immediately, pulling a face in disgust. But when it was you, he only pulled you closer, from time to time -when no one else was around- actively looking for your closeness, acting so much more relaxed and loosened up, when he held you in his arms. Your relationship was for sure different from the friendships the two of you held with others, but that didn’t mean that there were any romantic feelings involved from his side, did it?
When you didn’t answer, only staring into the void with a faint smile on your lips, Pansy grinned superiorly.
“That´s what I thought.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”, you brushed her off, hiding your face in your hands.
“Well, if it doesn’t mean anything, you surely won´t mind if I get Draco here so the two of you can continue where you left off.”
You gasped as you looked at your friend, still grinning at you.
“Don’t you dare, Pansy!”
“I´m just saying. I don’t mind sleeping in the common room tonight. And I could send Draco up here and tell him that…”
“You won´t tell him, Pansy. None of this, alright? Never! You have to promise.”
Pansy just rolled her eyes.
“Obviously I won´t. What kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t keep a secret?”
And with that, she definitely had a point.
You slammed your book shut and groaned as you leaned back in your chair. The bushy-haired girl on the opposite side of the table did so as well, only that she was closing the book so carefully that you could have suspected it was a rare and precious relic and not only an old schoolbook.
“This wasn´t that bad after all, was it? We´re already halfway through.”, she spoke up.
You gasped in disbelief.
“Only halfway? I thought we were close to the end. We´ve been sitting on this for hours. I feel like my head is going to explode.”
“Well, you asked me for help because you wanted to do it right. So we will do it right.”
“Whatever.”, you huffed.
“Tomorrow at the same time then?”
“Tomorrow already? Can´t we take a break?”
“The longer we wait the longer it will take us to finish that. So we better be quick. I also got other things to do.”
“Alright then, see you tomorrow.”
You grabbed your books and threw them into your bag carelessly, making the girl in front of you frown.
You were already halfway out of the library when you turned around once more.
“And Granger?”
The girl with the red and golden tie around her neck glanced at you distrustfully. You forced your lips upwards into a small smile, even though you were quite sure it looked rather wry.
“Thanks for your help. I…” You bit your lip, trying to make the words not sound like the worst insult. “I really appreciate that.”
Carefully, the Gryffindor returned your smile.
“You´re welcome.”, she said, before turning to the books in front of her again, closing the one you had just used for your Ancient Runes essay and replacing them with the ones you used for History of Magic.
You shook your head in disbelief as you made your way to your common room. Your eyes already felt heavy and your mind groggy after the hours of work you had put into your one essay. How Granger could now continue to work on yet another one was just incomprehensible to you.
When you had finally reached the door to your common room, every thought about the Gryffindor was however replaced with the ones of a cosy spot in front of the fireplace and the much more pleasant company of your friends who would talk about much more interesting things than why the unicorn presented the number one, the graphorn however presented the number two in the language of the runes.
With a faint smile on your lips, you entered the room, heading for your usual seats. You already spotted your friends sitting there, engaged in a conversation.
You let yourself fall onto the expensive material of the armchair with a heavy sigh, stretching your stiff limbs.
“Sorry it took me so long.”, you stated. “I was sitting on that damn essay until just now. And we haven’t even finished it. Can you imagine this? Hours of work and no results yet. Merlin, this Gryffindor know-it-all all really had me on my toes. But at least it wasn’t as bad as I imagined it. I just hope that in the end all of the work will pay off. I really can´t afford yet another bad grade.”
You placed your feet on the coffee table in front of you and looked at Pansy and Blaise, who were sitting on the couch next to you, expectantly. But instead of some understanding words, you were only met with icy silence. Pansy didn’t even look at you, while Blaise´s glance shifted between you and your friend.
“What? Are you lost for words?”, you chuckled, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
“That´s one way to put it.”, Pansy muttered under her breath, her eyes shooting daggers into your direction.
You narrowed your eyes in confusion as you returned her look. Pansy was a master at daunting other people and making them feel like they had just committed a war crime just by looking at them, but normally, she reserved those glares for the people of other houses, especially the Gryffindors. And if she looked at one of her best friends like you had just drowned some kittens, you must have screwed up something really bad. But for the love of Salazar, you couldn’t figure out what it was. Your gaze shifted to Blaise, silently seeking for help, but the boy just pursed his lips and looked away.
You sighed and sat up straight, returning Pansy´s glare without blinking once.
“Alright, tell me, what is it then?”
Your friend raised an eyebrow mockingly, but there was no actual amusement in her voice as she said: “Really, (Y/n)? You can´t think of anything? You must be down even worse than we thought.”
“Down for what? What are you talking about? Is something wrong?”
“Certainly.”
“For Merlin´s sake, Pansy! Just quit your games and tell me already!”
“Why should I? If you don’t get it yourself, I´m afraid we can´t help you anymore.”
You groaned in resignation. You wouldn’t be able to get out of her what you wanted to know like this. Pansy had closed up completely and it looked like she wouldn’t open up that easy again. And you knew for sure that trying to get something out of Blaise was impossible in almost every state. Yet you took a deep breath and forced yourself to smile sweetly at Pansy.
“Alright, I see where this is going. So what does my best friend in the whole wide world wants me to do for her so she will finally tell me what I did to upset her today?”
Pansy crossed her arms in front of her chest, still glaring at you.
“Well, I can´t tell you, because by best friend you obviously can´t be referring to me.”
Your face fell.
“What?”
Your roommate smiled at you so calmly as if she hadn’t just given you evil tidings.
“I think you heard me correctly, (Y/l/n).”
Even though the fireplace was still lit up, the fire inside burning brightly, you felt the temperature dropping by a few degrees at her words.
“Quit the show, Pansy. Either tell me what´s wrong now or stop behaving like this, this really isn’t funny.” You heard your voice shaking.
Pansy stood up from her place, walking up to you slowly, before she came to a halt right in front of you, towering over you. To her right and left you could see some people shooting you some curious glances.
“You´re right, (Y/l/n), this really isn’t funny at all. All of those years I shared my room with some filthy bloodtraitor who brought so much shame to the entire house of Slytherin.”
By now, you were absolutely sure that whatever this was about, the situation was certainly serious. Because Pansy knew better than anyone else that this insult wasn’t something to make fun of. Bloodtraitors were the worst witches and wizards to ever exist, in your opinion, willingly abandoning their rights and obligations and betraying the people closest to them, disgracing their entire bloodline. You tensed in your armchair, straightening your back as you glared up at your friend.
“What did you just say?”, you asked, still hoping that you had just misheard what Pansy had said. Your voice was dangerously low because even though it was your best friend standing right in front of you, you couldn’t guarantee that you wouldn’t hex her nastily if she would repeat what she had just said.
But Pansy didn’t seem to be impressed because she looked you dead in the eyes and said: “Do you really want me to repeat that, (Y/l/n)? Isn´t all of that already embarrassing enough for you?”
“Alright, Pansy, tell me who knotted your wand or quit the bullshit and leave me alone.”
The girl let out a humourless laugh.
“I certainly won´t leave. But I will gladly help you pack your things if you want to.”
“Why should I? This is my home just as it is yours.”
“Not anymore. You lost your privilege of calling this place home the second you got involved with that filthy mudblood.”
Now you couldn’t help but laugh yourself.
“Hold on, that´s what this is about? That I work on that essay with a Gryffindor?”
“A Gryffindor, a friend of Potter and a mudblood.”, Pansy spat out.
You shrugged your shoulders.
“So? It´s not the first time we use others to get us some good grades, is it? And if I remember it correctly you even encouraged me to do so, because you couldn’t help me.”
That was true indeed. When you had a good cry on Pansy´s shoulder about how you didn’t know how you would pass the class, she had actually told you that you should just ask the person who was on top of the class for help, since none of your friends had taken the class this year and you were on the edge of a breakdown. And the person who was the best in your class happened to be Hermione Granger. And when you had realized that there was no way of talking her into doing your work for you, you had grudgingly agreed to partner up with her for the class, something neither you nor the Gryffindor had exactly been looking forward to, but your teacher had however been delighted about. And now Pansy actually wanted to blame you for taking her advice?
“I told you to look for someone to do your work, not to become best friends with.”
“What do you think we were doing? We were studying, Pansy. Not braiding each other’s hair.”
“Yes, you were studying. And you talked with her. And smiled at her. And in the end, you even thanked her. Millicent has told me all about it.”, Pansy snapped.
Your gaze fell on the said girl, who was sitting in a chair not far away, her arms crossed in front of her chest, as she looked at you disapprovingly, thrusting her jutting jaw forward.
“So am I supposed to keep a straight face for hours, showing everyone how much I hate studying with that girl and in the end not even thanking her for helping me out, even though I still need her?”, you asked in disbelief.
Pansy just shrugged her shoulders.
“Ain´t that hard, is it?”
“Pansy, you know I need a good grade in that essay or I´ll fail that class.”
“So?”
“So? I need this class. I need those grades. I´m really sorry if you don’t like that, but right now I need to set my priorities and they certainly aren’t keeping you content with me all the time.”
“So you choose your work with a mudblood over your friends? Your family?”
“No, Pansy. I choose a good degree over your personal vendetta.”, you answered, before you stood up, now being face to face with the girl you had always thought had been your friend. “Tell me when you can think straight again, but until then just leave me alone. I really can´t deal with that childish behaviour right now.”
You wanted to pass her, but Pansy stepped in your way.
“You might consider this childish, (Y/l/n), but I´m just loyal to my house. Something that you don’t seem to care about anymore.”
“How dare you call me out like this?”, you responded, raising your voice. “I am just as loyal to this house as everyone else in here. Salazar, you know I wouldn’t be a Slytherin if I wouldn’t be.”
“Seems like even the sorting head can be wrong from time to time.”, Pansy scoffed, looking at you in disgust. Then she stepped to the side, finally paving the way. “And now get out of here, we don’t want to see you in here ever again.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, so you´re talking for everyone now?”, you mocked, convinced that the others wouldn’t share Pansy´s opinion, but as you looked around, your confidence was crushed rather quickly.
The entire common room had witnessed Pansy´s and your conversation and everyone seemed to have a clear opinion about what had happened. But not in the way you had hoped. You could see the disappointment and disgust in the eyes of the people you had shared the biggest part of your life with over the past few years, noticed how they shook their heads in disapproval, crossing their arms in front of their chests as if they wanted to build a barrier between you and the people you had considered your family. Lastly, your gaze settled on Blaise, who was still sitting on one of the couches, his face showing no emotion.
“Oh, c´mon, you all can´t be serious, can you?”, you asked, trying to force yourself to smile, but failed terribly.
“You know the rules, (Y/n).”, Blaise spoke up, his voice sounding almost bored, even though he knew very well that his words would shatter your heart. “No encounters with mudbloods. No encounters with Gryffindors. No encounters with people who threaten our world. And you did all of these things.”
By now you could feel tears pricking in your eyes, but you blinked quickly to prevent them from falling.
“You should really leave now.”, Pansy hissed, the grin on her face making you suspect that she enjoyed this situation way too much. And it broke your heart that she did so.
“Come back when you remember where you belong.”, Blaise added.
“That´s not on you to decide. You can´t just kick me out.”, you rejected.
“Well, it doesn’t look like anyone minds, does it?”, Pansy responded.
And when your gaze flickered through the room once more, you hated the fact that you had to agree with Pansy. Right now, no one seemed to be on your side. You had done nothing wrong, yet they all treated you like a leper.
“But Draco. Draco isn’t here. You can´t decide this without him.”, you started one last weak attempt, not only clutching at straws that Draco would understand your situation and support you, but also knowing that every Slytherin respected the boy and wouldn’t dare to speak up against him.
But while you saw some people looking rather uncertain at the mention of the Malfoy heir, Pansy just giggled maliciously.
“That´s just so sweet, (Y/l/n). You really think Draco is going to save you?” Her voice was dripping from fake petty. “You really think that he isn´t going to be disgusted when he finds out that you encounter the enemy? Out of all the people you think that Draco will understand your friendship with a mudblood who is also Potter´s filthy girlfriend?”
“She isn’t….”, you tried to contradict, but Pansy continued unbothered.
“You really think that he won´t hate you just as much as we all do by now. That he won´t hold your betrayal against you?” She giggled again. “You know, I will almost feel sorry for you when Draco finds out, you know that? It´s really going to break your little heart when he abandons you as well. It´s quite the opposite of what you were hoping for, isn’t it?”
You felt your heart in your mouth. You knew that all of this was just a big misunderstanding. You weren’t quite sure yet whether Pansy intentionally hurt you or if she actually thought that you had betrayed your house the way she had portrayed it, but you knew that even after everything she had said, you still loved her. She was still a part of your family and you just knew that you would be able to forgive her her cruel words one day when she would realize the mistake she had made and would beg you for forgiveness. But if she would actually reveal what you were really feeling for Draco, now that the entire house of Slytherin was listening, you knew that your trust in her would be damaged lastingly.
Your eyes were locked with Pansy´s, silently pleading to not say something that she couldn’t take back, but Pansy´s glare wasn’t affected by it. She returned your gaze without blinking once when she said -loud enough for everyone to hear-: “Merlin, (Y/l/n). You had a crush on this boy ever since the first day and now you´re throwing it all away for some stupid mudblood. That´s really pathetic.”
The room around you started to spin, slowly at first and then faster and faster, when the buzzing in your ears mixed with the whispering and laughter of the people around you. All you wanted to do was to break down right away, run to your dorm, lock the doors and never get out again, but when you saw Pansy grinning at you, apparently enjoying the effect her words had had on the room, you knew that you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
And when you spoke up again, you were pleasantly surprised by how calm your voice sounded, when you said: “You know what, Pansy? Even if this was true, it wouldn’t be half as pathetic as throwing away a friendship over some stupid rumours and not even listening to the person you have always called your best friend.” You waited a moment until the echo of your words had vanished in the room that had fallen quiet again, eager to listen to what you had to say, before you took a deep breath and added: “And about your question what kind of friend you would be if you aren’t able to keep a secret; the answer is you ain´t one at all.”
Just for a second, you thought you could see some regret shimmering in Pansy´s eyes, but you didn’t look at her long enough to be sure of it. You just walked past her, ignoring the glances of the people around you, as you tried to prevent your legs from giving in, at least until you would be out of sight for the people that had until this very day had meant the most to you.
But while you were rather proud of yourself for not letting your guard down while you had still been in the common room, the moment the door had closed behind you, the tears had started to fall and until now they hadn’t stopped yet. Ever since you had walked away from the common room almost half an hour ago, you had wandered around the castle aimlessly. It was sheer luck that you hadn’t crossed ways with some other students or -even more likely since it was almost curfew- any of the professors or Filch. You had absolutely no idea where you were going or how you would explain to anyone why you were still out, with puffy eyes and looking like an absolute mess. All you knew was that you certainly wouldn’t go back to your dorm tonight. Maybe if you would go to the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey would allow you to stay the night if you would claim to feel sick or have a bad headache. You knew that Madame Pomfrey wasn’t easy to get fooled but given your pathetic appearance you were quite sure that she wouldn’t ask too many questions. And how you would continue from that point on, you could still think about tomorrow.
For now, there was a much more important question occupying your mind. After the entire common room had heard what Pansy had blurted out about your feelings for Draco, you were absolutely sure, that the latest by tomorrow, the entire school would know. If you were honest, you didn’t actually care about your stupid classmates gossiping about how (Y/n) (Y/l/n) was hopelessly in love with Draco Malfoy, you knew that these kinds of rumours had spread across the castle´s grounds rather often already, but what you did care about was what Draco would think about it if someone would tell him in every small detail - and probably some rather subjective interpretation - about the entire situation and Pansy´s words.
After Pansy had exposed you like this in front of everyone and didn’t even seem to be sorry about it at all, you had already kind of accepted that you had lost your best friend – probably forever- but after everything she had said tonight, you weren´t even as sad about it as you thought you should be. Pansy had made her decision. She had decided to believe some stupid rumours without even questioning them, had decided to let her pride and her prejudices ruin one of the longest and closest relationships both of you had ever had. This was on her. Not on you. But with Draco, it was different.
Not only because you loved the boy in a way so different from everything you had ever felt before, but also because Draco would – the moment he would walk into the common room – be assailed with narratives of all the people he trusted the most and who had already formed an opinion about what had happened. And an opinion about you. And you were rather sure that most of them wouldn’t be exactly well for you.
At the mere thought of what Draco was thinking about you maybe at this very moment, if he had by now already entered the common room and heard all those nasty things about you, you felt the tears welling up in you all over again. Draco would be so disgusted by you. Maybe he would even hate you. But the worst thought about this was that he was probably disappointed in you. You could vividly imagine how the blond boy was sitting in his usual armchair, staring into the fireplace, while Pansy would tell him how you had betrayed them all. How you had betrayed him. And when Pansy would be finished, Draco would look at Blaise, hoping he would contradict, but Blaise would just shrug his shoulders and say something like: “I know, man, we all didn’t expect it. But Millicent saw them in the library. And Montague as well.” And then Draco would shake his head and let out a sigh, wondering how he could have ever been fooled by you like that. And the next time you would see him, his gaze wouldn’t be full of affection but would be cold, maybe even indifferent. And he would walk towards you, but instead of coming to a halt in front of you, he would just walk past you, probably giving you a small nod and say: “(Y/l/n)”. And then he would punish you with his neglect, knowing that this would be the worst thing that he could ever do to you.
Your vision was blurry, and your hands were shaking when you turned around the next corner, still not knowing where to go. But your walk was curbed rather harshly when suddenly, you bumped into someone.
“Easy there, (Y/n).”, you heard a deep voice chuckling.
And it was the same voice you had just played in your head over and over again. Only that now that he was actually standing in front of you, Draco´s voice didn’t sound as cold as you had imagined it but was as warm and affectionate as you were used to it. And when you glanced up at the tall Slytherin through the haze of your tears, you could see him smiling down at you without hesitation. You gulped heavily. Probably, Draco hadn’t met any fellow Slytherins yet who had told him what had happened back in the common room. This was the only explanation for why he kept so calm around you.
“I was already looking for you, love.”, Draco continued. He brushed some strands of hair out of your face, his smile unfazed.
For a moment you felt some irritation welling up in you. Why was he looking for you? Did he already know after all? But if he did, why was he still so gentle around you? But either way; why was he smiling at you while you were obviously upset, with tears still running down your face? Did he already hate you so much that he enjoyed seeing you like this?
But all those thoughts were pushed back because you forced yourself to savour every moment, he would still be nice to you. With all your willpower, you tried to imprint the softness in his eyes and the way his voice sounded when he called you by his favourite nickname for you into your mind, in case it would be the last time.
Draco however didn’t show any intention of pushing you away anytime soon. Instead, he pulled you to one on the windowsills, hidden behind one of the permeable walls of the castle, where you were shielded from curious glances. When the boy took your hand into his bigger one, you followed him without hesitation, until he sat down on the sill and signified you to do the same.
Draco just stared at you, his face showing no emotion, when you sniffled quietly, trying to wipe away the tears, still burning in your eyes. Only when you had finally given up trying to fix the mess the tears had done to your face, the Slytherin finally cleared his throat.
“So, do you want to tell me what happened?”
“You don’t really want to tell me you don’t know yet, do you?”, you responded. You didn’t intend your voice to sound that bitter, but you were just too exhausted to try and hide it.
Draco shrugged his shoulders.
“I heard quite a few things tonight. But I want to hear it from you as well.”
You let out a small laugh.
“Well, you´re the first one.”
You didn’t know why now that you finally had a chance to explain yourself, you got as defiant as you did now. But when you glanced at Draco, he just looked at you, not seeming to hold your words against you and waiting patiently for you to explain yourself. And at that moment you suddenly knew that you just had to take this chance. Obviously, you couldn’t be certain how Draco would think about the entire story, but for some reason, you just knew that the bond between the two of you was way too strong to be destroyed by all the things that had happened today. Draco and you had always sticked together. And that wouldn’t change today.
The moment you came to that realization, the words started to tumble over your lips. With every word you spoke, the pressure that had been put on you was falling off more and more. And Draco listened patiently to everything. From your fear of failing the class, to how you may or may not had been a bit friendlier to Granger than you had been supposed to and finally how everyone was holding exactly that now against you, even -or more precisely especially- Pansy, who had not only broken with you but had also said some things you had told her in confidence. That however was the only point where you left out some details. Even though you strongly suspected that some idiot had already told Draco how you were actually feeling for him, after all the time you had been keeping it from your friend, you just couldn’t bring yourself to say those words out loud in front of him.
When you had come to the end of your report, the tears, that over time had almost dried, came back in full force.
“I just don’t get it.”, you sniffled. “She is – she was my best friend. And now I don’t even know if any of this has ever been real. I mean if it would have been, she wouldn’t have done this to me, would she? Salazar, Pansy hates me so much, Draco. The entire house does now. Everyone does.”
Your voice broke down and you lowered your head when yet some other tears were making their way down your cheeks.
Until now, Draco had quietly sat on the windowsill, looking at you with narrowed eyes the entire time, his eyes not leaving your face for once. But now that you had fallen silent, he quickly stood up, and with one large step, he was standing in front of you, grabbing your hands to make you get up as well, before pulling you into a tight embrace. You buried your face in the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as humanly possible.
“I don’t hate you, (Y/n).”, he mumbled into your hair. His voice was low and you could feel the vibration of the words in his chest, making you shiver. “I don’t hate you and I never could. And if the others actually think like that, they´re all idiots. Merlin, forget it. They´re idiots anyway. You´ve done nothing wrong, love. Trust me, this isn’t on you.”
“But why does it feel like it is?”
“Because everyone has told you it is. And now you start to believe it yourself. But I´m here to tell you that you´re not.”
“How can you be so sure of that?”
“I know you, (Y/n). Salazar, you´re one of the best people I´ve ever met. All you did was ask for help.”
“Exactly, I showed weakness. In front of a mudblood.”
“Sometimes you can bend the rules a bit, love. You did it because you had to. There´s nothing wrong with that.”
You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle and felt yourself relax into Draco´s arms a bit.
“Says you.”, you mumbled.
“Exactly. And if even I can say that, then it has to be true, doesn’t it?”
You were pretty sure that under every different circumstance and with every different person, Draco would have probably given them hell for even talking to someone like Granger at all, let alone working with her. But maybe this was the reason his words calmed you down even more. The Slytherin was willing to go against those values he believed in so strictly just to cheer you up. And it worked better than you would have guessed.
Draco and you stayed in the embrace for a couple more minutes, until even the last tears had dried up and most of the tension had left your body. And even though you now felt just exhausted and would have done anything for him to keep on holding you like this for just a bit longer, you pulled back slightly, until you were able to look Draco in the eyes again. When his eyes met yours, he smiled softly, holding a tenderness in his eyes you had never seen in him before.
“Thank you.”, you said. Your voice sounded slightly raspy.
The smile on Draco´s face only widened.
“There´s nothing to thank me for, love.”
“No, for real, Draco. I… I felt really shitty about all of this but now I feel… like maybe there is a way to work it all out.”
“And if there isn’t one, we´re going to make one.”
You looked at him hopefully.
“We?”
“Of course. We´re in this together, don’t you think?”
“Why?”
“Purely selfish reasons.”, Draco smirked. “I want to see that pretty smile of yours again as soon as possible.”
You couldn’t help your lips twitching up at his words, making Draco grin smugly.
“See, my life would be a lot worse without this.”
You nudged him.
“Oh, just shut up!”
“Why? It´s the truth.”
You let out a small giggle before you grew serious again. Because with all the affection Draco was showing you now, you were reminded of another certain detail, one you would rather forget but you knew that it was probably for the best if you would bring it up before anyone else would.
“Draco?”
“Yes, love?”
“You… you said you heard a few things about what happened back in the common room before you came looking for me.”
Draco nodded, now looking a bit grimmer again, as he remembered all the nasty things he had never imagined anyone could ever think - let alone speak out loud - about you.
“And did you… did they… I mean, have you also heard something about you. About us I mean. Not that there is much to say, but I just… I don’t know… Pansy said a few things earlier and I just want to make sure that this… I just don’t want you to get something wrong about it.”
Draco nodded again, his eyes never leaving yours, as he brushed some strands of hair out of your face, letting his fingertips ghosting over your cheek, making you shiver.
“We don’t have to talk about this now, (Y/n). There´s pretty much been going on tonight and if you´re not ready for this now…”
“No! No, it´s alright. Just… What did you hear?” Even though you were scared of what would happen next, even though you were scared that you might lose the last person who you were still meaning something to by this as well, you knew that none of these things would get any better if you waited any longer or would just ignore it. “If you want to tell me of course.”, you added quickly, as you noticed the indecisiveness in Draco´s eyes.
“Well, a few people came up to me and told me that… Apparently, you told Pansy that…” Draco shook his head and took a deep breath. “No, you know what, it doesn’t matter what she said. What any of them said. This… should be about us.”
You just nodded, your eyes flickering anywhere but meeting Draco´s, until suddenly you felt a hand under your chin, gently forcing you to look up at the blond boy again, who was looking at you intensively.
“(Y/n), do you have a thing for me?”
You gulped heavily at the straightforwardness of his question. There was not much to beat around the bush, so you just nodded. The nod looked a bit rigid, also given to the fact that his hand was still placed at your chin, but it was unmistakably a nod.
Your head was running wild, imagining all the things that could go wrong about this, from Draco feeling betrayed by you, to taking back everything he had said within the last minutes, but none of those things happened. Instead, a small grin appeared on the boy´s face again, spreading more and more with every second passing.
“Then you might want to know that I have a thing for you as well, love.”, he said in a husky voice, sounding as if the confession had almost knocked the air out of his lungs as much as it did to you.
You blinked at the boy in confusion, having to take a moment to let his words sink in.
“You… you also…”, you stammered when you had finally found your voice again.
Draco nodded.
“One could say I am stupidly in love with you, as some of these people have expressed so elegantly. So yes, I also.”
You looked at the Slytherin with widened eyes, feeling a warmth flushing through your entire body, you had never felt before.
“Are you going to let me kiss you now, or what?”, Draco chuckled, when he saw the still perplexed look on your face.
Still too stunned to speak, you just nodded.
And when Draco finally gently pressed his lips on yours, you couldn’t quite remember anymore why you had thought that this day would end so miserably in the first place. All that you could think of at this moment were Draco´s lips on yours and his hand wandering from your chin to your cheek, cupping it, before continuing its way to the back of your head to pull you even closer to him, while his other hand sneaked around your waist, striving the same. He never loosened his grip once, only trying to pull you even closer than before, his touch comforting you, reminding you that you were anything but alone in this world. Because Draco would stay with you, no matter which challenges you would have to meet in the future and with him by your side you were positive that you would master them effortlessly.
Only when your lips were swollen and your lungs burning, you finally pulled back slightly, still his arms stayed where they were, not wanting to lose the feeling of closeness completely.
“We should probably get back soon.”, Draco mumbled. His lips brushed against yours as they moved. “It´s already after curfew and you need to get some sleep. This was a long day.”
Unwillingly, you tensed under his touch as you shook your head.
“I can´t go back there. How am I supposed to sleep in a dorm with her after everything that happened? After everything she said?”
“Well, at least some of it turned out to have a positive outcome after all, didn’t it?”, Draco responded, pecking your lips, but he quickly grew more serious again when he saw you shooting him a deadly glare. He sighed. “Alright, love. Maybe I got a different idea.”
You raised an eyebrow, looking at him questioningly as Draco smirked at you.
“What if I told you,”, he said, as his thumb brushed over your lips tenderly, “that there is a place that will make all your dreams come true and I can promise that Pansy won´t be nowhere in sight?”
You gasped and slapped him against his chest lightly.
“Draco Malfoy, if you´re suggesting I´ll get back with you to your dorm, let me tell you that I certainly won´t…”
“Even though this idea sounds more than tempting”, Draco interrupted you, “that isn’t what I have in mind. I mean a room that will literally shape into everything that you are wishing for. And I´m sure, a cosy bed won´t be an exception. And tomorrow morning, I´ll get you your school supplies and after class, we´ll think about how we´re going to go on, alright?”
You looked at the boy in front of you with narrowed eyes, but at this point, you were actually too exhausted to argue and Draco´s idea actually sounded just way too good to question it. So you just nodded.
Draco grinned at you smugly, as he took a step back, letting go of you, before his hand found yours, intertwining your fingers.
“Follow me then, my love. I promise you won´t be disappointed.”
You returned his smile without hesitation.
“As if you ever could disappoint me.”
“Obviously. As long as we´re together, everything will turn out just fine.”
And when you followed Draco, you just somehow felt that he was right. One way or another, everything would work out. You were sure of that.
Taglist: @xodracomalfoyxo @marigold-morelli @army24—7 @lbhmoon @cappgyuccino @writingwitch007 @myomy0ss @tinafuentes @dmslvt @Slytherin4eva @foulkryptonitepeanut @chillcheesecake @pottertea @webswatts @jaiistg
#draco malfoy#draco x reader#draco x female reader#draco x you#draco x y/n#draco fluff#draco fanfiction#draco fic#harry potter#blaise zabini#hermione granger#millicent bulstrode#pansy parkinson#slytherin reader#slytherin#fanfic#fanfiction
218 notes
·
View notes
Text
Character Parallels
I've been replaying the trilogy recently, and it made me think... there are so many parallels? Some may be unintentional perhaps, but still.
But what fascinates me the most is that all the paralells have pretty blatant contrasts by the end - somehow emphasized by the 'ending' of it all.
Gregory - Phoenix
Both become parents at 26, but Gregory loses Miles when he's 9 and Phoenix gets Trucy when she's 8 - so the difference is that basically Phoenix resumes where Gregory left off.
Trucy - Miles
Both adopted by lawyers at around the same age - both lose their parents in a courthouse - both precocious children who excel in their chosen path at an extremely young age - both somewhat extravagant, Trucy with her magician getup and Miles with his formal way of dressing and fancy talk.
The difference between them is obviously that Trucy was lucky enough to have a decent, loving parent while Miles was not.
* the above stuff is also why I really want Miles to co-parent because it would just come full-circle and would be fodder for great character development for both him and Trucy but I digress
Phoenix - Miles
The contrasts between them are mostly about their attitude towards things and nothing too specific, so I'll focus on the similarities here.
They're both manipulated by someone they trusted, both accused of murder because of that person's plot - both kinda try to rush to their deaths because of it (Phoenix eats a necklace(d) with poison, Miles confesses to a crime that would lead to a death penalty). The difference here is basically that Phoenix tends to prefer taking care of things himself - he likes to help, but hates to be helped. Probably didn't even let Miles be in the country during the whole thing, he probably only him help with the implementation of the jurist system from afar.
Both try to hide their emotions and are secretive (but Phoenix is more successful, while Miles kinda sucks at it) - both accused of forging evidence (although Miles doesn't get disbarred because of it).
Both try their darn hardest at helping people because they've helped each other and were inspired by the other's words and actions in the past and become the person they are today because of it. They're mentors, but they also learn from their mentees, and each other - okay this is turning into narumitsu real fast I'll stop
Kristoph - Manfred
Both manipulative, egotistical and prideful to the point where a minor blow to their ego makes them go murderous and vindicative - both dedicate their life to ruin the one that offended them. In Kristoph's case, it's both towards Phoenix and Zak, actually - Kristoph also murders a father (well, actually, he murders two fathers), like Manfred killed Gregory. Both also have a relative that needs to cope with what they did (Franziska and Klavier).
The contrast here is mainly that while Manfred ultimatelly confesses fully, we never discover what Kristoph's black locks were truly about.
Franziska - Manfred
Both shot, but in different circumstances - Manfred takes a vacation in order to recover and make sure absolutely no one knows anything, but Franziska tries to go straight to court and wears her injury with something akin to pride (a bulletshot won't stop her, neither will what people think of her)
Dahlia - Kristoph
They both manipulate their sibling to do their bidding (although Klavier was unaware, unlike Iris) - both fans of poison - both destroyed by the person they despised the most - the difference here is that Kristoph did everything by himself (he manipulated Klavier, but he wasn't aware), while Dahlia conspirated with multiple people (Iris, Morgan, Valerie)
There are probably others, but these are the ones that stuck out to me the most. Gosh I love Ace Attorney's writing.
81 notes
·
View notes
Note
Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader where the two are in a romantic relationship but Reader is a regular citizen. She was there when Rebecca and Chris came to get Leon and Reader then gets kidnapped alongside Rebecca?
𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐬 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲 ; “ 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ”
i suck ass at writing action scenes so this is going to be in the form of headcanons
leon s kennedy x civilian!gn!reader
warnings ; kidnapping, violence, slight obsessive behavior from leon but like itty bitty, typical re stuff
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ i picture it like this ; you were in your room settling in while leon was down at the bar. he wanted to help you but you insisted that he is here to just relax so he is not doing anything else but relaxing.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ but shit happens. as always.
you heard someone knocking at the door to your room. you thought it was leon and that he forgot his keycard to the room. so you quickly opened the door with a smile, just about when you wanted to berate him playfully for being so forgetful you realized it was not leon.
“ how may i help you? ”
but you got no response. instead you got snatched and held close to the mysterious mans chest while he held a weirdly smelling cloth up to your nose.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ when he saw you being carried to the truck he thought he was about to lose his shit. well he did lose it but chris managed to put some sense into him
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ he was ready to go after you right in that moment. all critical thinking gone just like that. it's like a switch went off in his brain.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ i think that leon would me more rigid and risk-taking during the NY mission just to get to you as fast as possible. taking the most dangerous routs, nearly getting caught in the crossfire. he's all over the place.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ when him and chris split up ; leon looking for you and chris for rebecca ; and he finds you in cell-like room, deep purple veins going up your wrists and neck, he just collapses. both physically and mentally.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ if there was anything he wanted the most it would be so that you never have to experience this part of the world you live in. of course you knew about it but you were never a part of it like you are now.
" hey sweetheart can you hear me? " his eyes desperately raced around your face, waiting for any sign that you're somewhat consious. he moved your head so it was resting on his thighs and in that moment he thought he might as well start believing in god.
" leon? " your voice was faint. everything was like a blur and it hurt to breath. was it broken ribs? punctured lung? infection? you had no clue. " it hurts. "
" i know, i know love, i'll get you out of here. "
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ after that leon is going to be paranoid about leaving you alone. he follows you everywhere, even in your own home. at first it was understandable. you thought it would be like that for a week, maybe two but it remained this way for a lot longer.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ of course you sat leon down on his ass and you two explained everything. he realised that what he was doing was a terrible way to cope with what happened but you two made a deal that in case anything like this happenes again he wants you to have some way for him to find you or so you can alert him that something is happening.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in the end you agreed to have a watch that would work as an emergency button and a tracker. leon valued your privacy and would never use it to his advantage.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ yeah he checks it quite often but not to later question you or anything. he just wants to be sure you're safe
#resident evil#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil x reader#noir leon kennedy#resident evil 4#leon x reader#resident evil leon#re4 leon#re4#leonkennedy#resident evil 2#resident evil 6#resident evil vendetta#leon kennedy resident evil#leon kennedy re4#leon kennedy romantic#leon scott kennedy x you
337 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’ve been writing for about ten years privately and publicly and across multiple different websites, fandoms, and eras of favorite characters. I first started writing fanfiction physically in notebooks I stashed under my bed since I didn’t own my own laptop until I was 18, lol. I had originally started writing as a means to cope with feeling like The Ugly Kid because I never had a serious relationship in my pre-teen and teenage years. I was always on the chubby side and, given fanfiction’s tendency to depict readers as extremely thin and physically much smaller than the character in question, I sought to make my own stuff that would, hopefully, alleviate some insecurities and give a place to people who felt similarly to me as a kid. Well, I also started writing because I was horny and hormonal and just wanted to fuck pixels, but that much goes without saying.
I don’t think writing has much of a place in my current life for a variety of reasons and, despite what I said the other day, I don’t see it being a part of my future and I’m okay with that! It’s a hobby that has served me very, very well for nearly ten years (roughly half of my life now since I’m 22)— I’ve learned to like myself so much more than I ever thought I would have as a teenager, I’ve opened myself up to different ways to express myself and my sexuality, I’ve met a lot of really cool people, and I think I’ve been able to help other people out quite a bit, too. I always worry about coming off as overly pretentious or self-righteous when I talk about helping people through the power of porn fanfiction, but when I’ve received so many messages over the years about how I’ve helped other plus size people learn to feel a little more secure or how I’ve helped people feel less guilty about masturbating and enjoying sex, I think it’s a fair statement to make. I’ve had tons and tons and tons of good times as a writer, but I think reading these messages about helping other people are absolutely my favorite times to look back on. It makes me feel really good.
I’m in a completely different stage of my life now compared to when I first started writing and I don’t think the hobby appeals to me much anymore. I do think the tumblr game of notes and numbers and interactions has stressed me out some, but it’s by no means my main motivation to hang up my hat and move on to a new era of my life. I don’t care about getting a bazillion notes or a million followers, I just like to be a slut online and help other people feel good about themselves in the process, but any person who makes content will be the first to tell you that it does hurt at least a little when you make something you’re insanely proud of and it gets an amount of likes/reblogs/kudos/comments/etc you find disproportionate to your follower count or subscriber count. Nevertheless, I try not to focus on numbers too much and, while I’m somewhat successful at that, I and many other writers and artists do feel that tumblr has a major problem with interaction, reblogs vs likes, and engagement and tumblr staff’s own decisions to introduce things like community labels certainly don’t help.
As I said, numbers are not my main inspiration to quit. I’ve experienced near endless burnout since about January of this year where none of my ideas feel unique and original, none of them excite me, and nearly all of them make me worry that other people won’t enjoy them. It’s hard to want to write when you don’t feel like you’re making anything good, and, as I’m sure you all have noticed, I’ve taken a lot of breaks this year to hopefully get myself back in the swing of things, but I never return feeling refreshed and excited by new ideas, so that was the biggest indication to me that I’ve simply grown out of another hobby and I’m a changing person with changing interests and desires, and that’s okay! I’m emerging into a new stage of adulthood after graduating college and beginning to move out of my parents’ house, and so a shift in my hobbies and likes is to be expected. I had a conversation with another writing friend of mine who gave up writing publicly about six months ago, and my feelings sounded a lot like his, so that also suggested to me that I’m just ready to be done.
I’m infinitely thankful to everyone who’s ever been a part of my writing journey, whether you reblogged a fic once or were a regular emoji anon who stopped in frequently. I really cherish the memories I’ve made and I was always insanely excited to see people claim new emojis, see regulars in my inbox talking to me, and read nice comments and messages. When I say that writing has been a pivotal part of my life for a decade now, I mean that in so many ways, especially in the way that it has brought so many cool and nice people to me. I’ve made mistakes and I’ve said and done things that hurt other people, and I’m grateful for the forgiveness and reconciliation others have given me just as I am thankful for all the people who have supported me throughout my online presence.
I do feel guilty about leaving, but you guys deserve a proper goodbye instead of me putting my blog on hiatus again and just leaving it there to sit. I’d like to formally leave instead of just going dormant or disappearing, and this is that formal departure. I’ve had thoughts of quitting in the past, but those were when I was already feeling upset with other things in my life so I knew they weren’t real, but I’ve been thinking about this consistently for about four months now in clear mindsets and headspaces so I know it’s a little more real. I put myself on hiatus this last month to really think about it and, while it’s natural to go back and forth on such a decision and try to talk myself out of it, I really am ready and I don’t feel like I need to convince myself to stay when I’m not happy with my content. I owe you guys regularity and consistency, and I’ve failed to be a consistent writer or poster these past few months or so, and I’m sorry for that. I’ve talked about it a lot with my boyfriend and my close friends, and I feel it’s best for me to move on now and try some new things! I’m excited for this next stage of my life as I seek out a new career, look to move in with my boyfriend and get out of my parents’ place, and maybe get engaged too ☺️
My tumblr and AO3 will remain up with the same usernames and whatnot. I can’t even thank you guys enough for everything you’ve given me in the past years. I’m happy to call you guys friends and the “parasocial BAD!!!!!” debate that pops up in fandom circles needs to stfu because building a friendship with your audience and allowing yourself to be human with human feelings instead of some blank figure behind a screen is literally normal, lol. When people say nice things to you, it’s normal for it to feel good. When people say rude things to you, it’s normal for it to feel bad.
Thank you for 10 years of love and thank you for reading!
💛💛 Juju
ps think of me whenever you see pregnancy
#lots of love forever and ever and ever#so much love in my heart for you all and excitement for my future#uhh i don’t have a twitter or anything but my discord is tartagliawife if anybody wants to say hi!
282 notes
·
View notes
Note
You're so wonderfully devious. Your IF is so well written. I've played through it once several months ago, lost track of it, then found it again 🤗 but seriously, the complex emotions you pull out of me is what makes me keep coming back.
There's no time to not grieve for the MC. And your time jumps make it so no matter how much time has passed for MC, we don't get that relief. It makes me wonder if the MC feels that way all the time for the last 9 years if the grief we experience is just as intense. So I absolutely adore how you give MCs the ability to name a journal Alistair and to have a tattoo to keep them with you.
I don't know what to do with Rosea. I think the only way to hurt Luceris is by hurting the ones they love, Lancelot and Helios. But then this cycle of revenge continues and warps, and it's this massive spiders web because when you hurt Lancelot and Helios, then you hurt Farah, Vincent, and Hunter. It makes even more people want to put a stop to MC's machinations.
I know we're going to see it in writing, but the generational guilt on these kids [cause fuck they are basically still kids] heads is crushing.
The adults trying to alleviate guilt by saying "Mc is protected as consort" and has the "freedom to do what they want" is a poor consolation prize. They can't get rid of how they were complicit in MCs trauma.
Somehow, you have me litterally insane, tinfoil hat and all, do you play a kind MC so everyone can see how unhinged Luceris idea was? Because I'd love to play this game as quiet and kind MC, one who's forgive and try to move on, but when MCs twin died, I became just as crazy as Luceris. Now I have to be okay with the fact that I'm playing the long game of revenge and whatever that looks like.
Anyway, thank you for your work. It's amazing and I can't wait to see what happens next.
My toxic trait is I like being called evil or devious or anything insane. 🥰 Thank you for your kind words! 💗
Honestly, the time jumps do serve that purpose. Mainly because I think MC gets a little better each time jump but then something happens and it brings back what they felt that night in Vesphire.
For example, the time jump to meeting Fadiya is kind of supposed to be like "well at least someone wants to be friends with our baby" and that feeling is kind of hopeful, at least to me. With the 1st short story, I wanted to cement that feeling since it's like "world against MC but this little kid is here!!" and again it's hopeful. Chapter 2 is softer too with Fadiya, there isn't much angst until the very end where it's like "ah right, shit still sucks." and a part of the healing that the player might have felt just dies lol.
Chapter 3 is kind of different but technically MC is doing "better" or well coping better so there has been some progress on their part albeit it can be unhealthy.
I've gotten the "Oh this is kinda rushed" comment a few times but I don't think I could've taken these first few chapters more slowly since it is supposed to be kind of like a blur to MC. In my head, chapter 3 is when things are more slow for them but now they're leaving on a trip so...
I think revenge (that isn't like "get power throw him into jail") will always come with the loss of people. The only reason Luceris didn't lose people is because he didn't really have anyone to lose except for Lancelot and we all know how that's going. (Ikram doesn't count, if she refused he could just get another military general and been like okay. Don't be friends with your boss people. /j)
A Luceris that had Farah wouldn't have done that ever because she would have left him so yeah! It's normal to be stuck between what to do when you have people you care about who actually have somewhat of a normal moral compass.
Easiest way is to simply not have anyone (unless they're 100% in love with you and would throw away all their morals just for you ofc) and well maybe I can help with that! 🤭
The adults are insane and the kids are burdened with the problems that their parents are to blame for. I love the whole "burdened by the sins of your parents" trope. ✨️
God this got a bit too long lmao 😭 it was fun discussing some of the points. 🤝
56 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I'm so glad you're back, new chapter of Pizza girl was amazing as always, for me it's absolutely the best dc fic ever!
I especially love how the relationship between Jason and other characters feels heartbreakingly natural, how it isn't a case of "love magically cured trauma" but rather slowly and messyly opening up, and trying to heal with the help of right people at right time.
And as much as I cannot wait for Jason and pizza girl to have more straight up romantic shenanigans, I love how they started with gaining each other trust and building their friendship, I adore them as domestic buddies.
I have a question, if it isn't some kind of spoiler of course, at this point of the story, does Jason have (or wants to have) a life outside of his Red Hood persona? And I mean it half psychologically half practically (similarly to pizza girl, how does he earn money if being a vigilante isn't a source of income?)
But seriously, I find it heartbreaking that as much as he yearns for home, he still lives in safe houses, and I was so happy when he thought about asking Babs for help in looking for something more permanent for himself. And it fits into his fear of being traced of course, but got me thinking, in a more personal sense, does he have a motivations for living other than trying to make up for his mistakes as Arkham Knight?
Something like: does he realise that there's Red Hood who fights for those who can't do it for themselves, but there's also Jason who likes the smell of new books, has his favorite mug and favorite way of drinking coffee, has his favorite chair at the local library, who maybe has quiet and innocent dream to get a degree or his dream job and be loved and needed by someone?
Does he realise the second one exists and deserves to be cherished by him?
(Sorry if this ask is too much, I just now realised how long it got 😭 I will absolutely understand if you don't have time to answer this)
Anyway thank you for writing this amazing and captivating work, I can't wait for next chapters, whenever they'll be ready❤
In the meantime I hope you get time to rest and have fun! Stay safe!
This is a wonderful breakdown of Jason's character! To answer your question, does Jason have a life outside of his Red Hood persona?
No.
Does he want one?
Unconsciously, the answer is yes, but I don't think he can acknowledge it right now. For years following the Joker's torture, he's pretty much been in survival mode, keeping himself alive by being obsessed with a singular goal.
First, it was to kill the Joker and Batman, and then when he found out the Joker was dead, it was to kill Batman. Now, it's to seek redemption as the Red Hood. While he may have (somewhat) progressed from his days as the Arkham Knight, he's still clinging to the same unhealthy coping mechanisms.
It's a little (or a lot) like depression. He's so focused on getting through today and the next day and the next day that there's little room for anything else. Hobbies and friends and a place to feel at home in sound nice, but they also sound absolutely unattainable.
And he's lived with that mindset for so long that he's all but forgotten that there are different ways to live.
That's where Jason's head is right now.
Maybe one day, he'll progress enough that he'll be able to look around his safehouse, so sparse that it's no different from a prison cell, and he'll think to himself that he wants something more.
And it doesn't have to be anything big. Nothing so grand as the Wayne Manor. Just a small place, maybe above a bookstore. Maybe in the beginning, it's not so different from his safehouses. Just a mattress on the floor and a bathroom.
But then one day, he'll add something small. Some secondhand book he bought from the store for the change he had in his pocket. It's from an author he's never heard of before. The writing is a little clunky, but it's enough to pass the time while he's waiting for updates on his cases.
Maybe he reads it next to his window, by the light of the flickering street lamps, trying not to grimace at the way the hard wood is digging into his back.
Maybe one of his siblings or even the reader notices. She takes him to one of her favorite flea markets under the guise of buying a new rug. And he ends up taking back an armchair, so old that the stuffing is coming out in places.
But he makes do, the way he always has, he washes away the accumulated dust and dirt, he patches up the holes, and he places it next to his window. Where the street lamp shines just enough light to read by, even if it often flickers.
He opens his book, written by an author he's never heard of before. The writing is a little clunky in places. But for now, he thinks, it's enough.
(And maybe he'll read until morning. And maybe he'll realize, or maybe not: that the Jason Todd who used to spend hours in the Wayne Manor library, who had a favorite armchair by the fire, is still in there, somewhere.
And perhaps, he'll think--or perhaps not--that the Joker hasn't killed everything that he used to be. Perhaps there's still a little bit of Robin left in him.)
#jason todd x reader#jason todd analysis#Jason finding a place to call him days at the morisaki bookshop style#moving into the second floor of a bookstore owned by a sweet old man#giving him the cozy vibes he deserves UGH#lowkey makes me want to write something about jason finally getting a place of his own#as someone who was stuck in a depressive pit for a long time and still struggle with it on occasion this ended up being highkey personal#rooting for you jay#THIS MAKES ME WANT TO WRITE A SHORT ABOUT JASON FINDING HIS OWN COZY PLACE IN THE WORLD#NO CASES#JUST COZY VIBES
56 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello!! I hope your having a good day/night but I was wondering if you could write dazai and sigma and other characters of your choice or not with a reader who has social anxiety disorder who gets chest pains and nausea from it thank you :D
Comfort Crowd
Headcanon: Even with anxiety, they help you find a comfort crowd
Ft Sigma, Dazai
A/N: Gonna finish my old req first cause they deserve justice
ARMED DETECTIVE AGENCY
PORT MAFIA
MASTERLIST
HEADCANONS
Sigma:
Normally it was no joke when he first got to know you have social anxiety disorder.
he made sure you never were around people who you didn't knew, and made you stay away from large crowd knowing your condition (Let's be honest, he is scared himself that he might worsen the situation if he tried to help you with your anxiety)
I mean you live in a casino for god sake.
Sadly there are times when your presence is needed among the fellow Casino staff and members considering you were the cofounder of the casino itself, but worst of all you have to address all. (Let us assume, perry has three firetrucks-)
the constant fear of judgement would cloud up your mind.
"Sigma what if they judge me?"
"Calm down, it's alright love, breath in and out"
10/10 he holds hand whenever you are in public i.e outside your room, at gatherings, ANYWHERE.
Compliments you everytime he sees you, “you look good y/n”
Aww, he even tries to boost your self confidence with that!
It takes time for you to blend and adjust with some people, and he respects that. He wouldn't try to make you befriend people.
DOA makes you feel alive. Least Sigma does.
Sigma is caring enough and exactly knows how to calm you down.
Chest pains? He will run leaving everything and hug you tight, rub your back and make sure you drink water. I mean, even if you try to hid it he will know, He will just know.
Dazai:
Honestly, I think even with his supreme personality, he might as well as panic if he sees his loved one/s have any problem, especially an attack.
I would say, he rushes just like sigma, leaving everything behind and rubs your back, make you drink water and holds you tights while whispering, "Y/N just breath okay? Am here for you"
He is clueless about it.
It started with you both hanging out, and suddenly Dazai asked you a simple favour to pay the bill while he finishes eating, and oh boy you were sweating a lot.
"Y/N, Are you okay?"
Aww he is a late boomer, but he eventually figured it out.
He wouldn't avoid you from crowds, nor will advice you to stay where you are, but I think indirectly he will be helping you to cope up with it.
If you have pills, he makes sure you don't overdose. (Despite the fact he is ahem ahem)
He makes sure to carry those picture cards in his coat pocket, because somewhat he feels like if you ever feel dizzy and out of focus, the least he can do is get help from the cards.
I mean he is trying right?
I feel like he is to much emotional because after a time he is showing his true affections to someone other then his late friend Oda, and pretty much seeing them having attacks while he just stands there and panic, do nothing makes him feel downer then usual.
"Y/N am sorry, I couldn't help you better"
But we love his efforts.
btw, the cards helped him save his life he tries to waste, the bullet couldnt move pass the thicc cards.
#bungo stray dogs#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bungou sd#bsd headcanons#bungo stray dogs sigma#sigma bungou stray dogs#decay of angels#bsd sigma#sigma bsd#sigma my love#doa sigma#sigma#sigma x reader#sigma x yn#sigma x you#bsd dazai#dazai#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs dazai#bsd anime#dazai x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#dazai x you#dazai osamu#dazai fluff#bungou gay dogs#osamu dazai#dazai x yn#requests to sbd
149 notes
·
View notes
Text
Where Do We Go Now
pairing: peter parker x stark!reader
synopsis: in which the death of y/n's father leaves her determined to bring him back and her boyfriend peter determined to save her
warnings: endgame aftermath, death, parental loss, isolation, suicide attempt (but magical?), it gets better - I promise
word count: 7.1k
masterlist
a/n: Hey guys. This is going to be a bit longer than my usual notes, but I feel like I should explain why I've been gone for so long and why this story is a lot sadder than my usual ones. My community has been riddled with tragedy recently as we've lost a lot of people to suicide this past year, some of which have been as young as middle school age. One of my friends died by suicide a couple months ago. I can't express to you guys how hard it's been trying to deal with the pain and the guilt his death has caused me and my loved ones. So many days have passed where I wish I could've been a better friend for him while he was here. It hurts more knowing that other people are hurting too. Writing this was the best way for me to cope for many reasons. I wanted to write about how I'm feeling and honor my friend in some way even if it's through a silly little fanfiction. I know I'm late, but I also wanted to honor one of my favorite characters, Tony Stark as he canonically died this past October. That being said, if you are struggling please, I implore you, talk to someone. There are so many people on this planet who would be so torn without you. My dms are always a safe space if you need anything at all <3
Also I'd like to thank Gracie Abrams for her music that I had on repeat the entire time I was writing this. I hope you like it!
“I am Iron Man.”
The words replayed in your head, over and over like a broken record with no one to turn it to a new tune. That’s exactly how you felt. So alone in your grief that even if miraculously every wish you'd ever made in the whole of your existence had been granted, it still wouldn’t be enough to make you happy again. To make you feel anything besides the constant regret and incessant grief that anchored you down as you wasted away in your bed.
It had been exactly a week since the passing of the great Tony Stark. Everyone else in the compound had mourned their coworker, riddled by a somewhat lesser version of your sadness for only a few days after his death. It’s not as if their grief had been washed away as if it never stained their cheeks with tears or weighed down their hearts with sorrow, but it eased much quicker than yours and before long they could continue their duties. Everything was so much harder for you because Tony hadn’t just been a coworker. He was your father.
You relieved every memory you had of him like bittersweet torture. You remembered when he held you as a little girl, wiping up a bloodied knee. When he discovered you had powers and helped you control them. Later on when he banned you from joining in on the Avenger’s Civil War and afterwards when he thanked you for sneaking in to help anyway. You could almost feel his comforting embrace as if it was only yesterday that he was assuring you before a failed battle against the mad Titan Thanos, the same one that left you dusted and missing your father’s last five years on Earth. And finally, of course, you remember his last moments all too well. It played out before you like the tragic ending of a stage play.
“Let me do it,” you shouted over the sound of war cries and carnage that surrounded you on the packed battlefield. “I can take it!”
You were almost certain that your power, your immeasurable magic, could handle the debilitating strength of the Infinity Stones making you the most reasonable choice for snapping Thanos and his army out of existence, but your father refused to risk losing his eldest.
“No,” he breathed, the metal plate shielding his chest rising and falling from the heat of the action. There was only one way to succeed, only one way to put a stop to the destruction of the universe. It had to be him. “I won’t risk losing you, not while you’re still so young. You have so much life ahead of you.”
“Not without you!” you cried, a tear streaming from your eye.
There wasn’t much time for your conversation as the world was moments away from being wiped of its human history, but despite the odds your father pulled you into a tight hug, as if he knew it would be the last. You both did.
“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known and I’m so proud of what you’ve become already.” he smiled when you finally pulled apart.
“I need you dad,” you sobbed, still reluctant to let him leave you. With the threat of his death, suddenly Thanos’ defeat didn’t matter anymore. Not nearly as much as having your father by your side. “I’m not ready.”
Your dad looked down on you with the saddest of smiles, but if any part of him was upset about his decision, he made no other hint toward it. He just held you close for as long as possible and comforted you in the way that you could always count on him for. In the way, it hit you, that you could never count on him for again. But yet, in the face of death, he cradled you close and spoke in his signature fatherly tone: assertive yet on the edge of softness.
“No one’s ever ready -,” he answered truthfully. “- but I know you can handle it. You always do.”
You looked up at him as he finally pulled away and headed towards the purple giant, but not before turning to you for one final declaration.
“I love you, junior, to the edge and back again.”
And then he was gone. You never got the chance to say it back.
Yours was the last name he uttered before his heart stopped beating and the light on his suit went out. By then Pepper had already said her goodbyes and you both were huddled close to his body, weeping as the other Avengers knelt around you in honor of your father. Peter was hunched behind you, one hand on your shoulder while the other worked to wipe away his own tears. Oh Peter, you had your father to thank for him.
It was Tony who was credited with setting you up with your long term boyfriend, Peter Parker, even if it was a complete accident. You two had gotten acquainted on a fateful plane ride to Germany and eventually ended up together after many failed attempts at confessing your feelings. There was something about him that had you smitten with him from your first encounter, your liking only strengthened when you learned that your father approved. He’d been with you through thick and thin and even now, Peter was the only person who could even remotely share your pain besides Pepper. Tony was like his father too.
He’d taken care of you ever since the incident. Brought you food and water, helped you dress in your black attire for the funeral, laid with you in your bed each night to calm you whenever you awoke in a nightmarish terror. He showed his love for you prevailing over his grief in the most selfless of ways and yet all you had managed to do since you father’s funeral was stand to use the restroom every once in a while. It piled on more weight that your poor soul could already take. You were nothing, but a miserable burden now.
The door to your room opened with squealing hinges as Peter stepped in, returning from school where he had spent the morning reuniting with your shared friends and finding out when the official return date was. You were supposed to join him, but instead you hadn’t moved an inch since he left. It wasn’t as if you wanted to waste the entire day in your lonely sheets again. You yearned for everything to go back to how it was; when Peter was happy and you could share it with him. When your father used to smile upon the two teens he didn’t mean to bring together. When your father was alive.
“Hey,” he said, softly as if not to startle you from your endless torturous pondering. He set something down on your dresser, a small stack of papers he must have gathered from the school, and removed his fall coat before sauntering over to you. The bed creaked and shifted under his weight as he took a seat next to you. “Good news, we don’t have to go back until the next semester so we get a break until January. Ned was asking about you. He wants to know how you’re doing.”
You turned your head to look at him, your eyes red-rimmed from all of your crying and your lips cracked and dry.
“What did you tell him?” you croaked, your voice hoarse from under use. There was little to talk about and no one else to talk to whenever Peter wasn’t around. Pepper had visited you once, but with Morgan to look after, she couldn’t spare much time for her late husband’s grieving daughter. You’d seen Happy a couple times as well, but he needed his own time to recover and reflect on his past time with his best friend.
Peter was gentle as he tucked some of the hair strands snot cemented to your jaw behind your ear and cupped your cheek in his palm. He was cold from the autumn chill outside, but his hand ignited the same soothing heat that his touch always brought forth.
“I said you were recovering,” he answered truthfully. “And that it’s different for everyone. And no matter how long it takes, I’m here for you every step of the way.”
The ghost of a smile graced your lips and had it not felt like it stopped beating after losing your father, your heart may have fluttered in its cavity in your chest.
“Thanks Peter,” you curled closer to him in the most sincere of ways. “But I’m afraid it’s going to be a while before I can get up to see Ned again. Give him my best.”
“Take your time. I’m sure he understands.” Peter assured before pulling off his flannel and laying down beside you to wrap you in his arms, allowing you to tuck your face in his chest. As unhappy as you were, all the swirling emotions of suffering were always suppressed by the sound of Peter’s heart and the feel of his body around yours. You stayed like that for a while, holding each other before Peter broke the silence as it neared time for your midday meal.
“I think you should come with me today,” Peter suggested, rising to run his daily lunch retrieval before running a loving hand through your hair. You couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. You hadn’t been able to wash in over a week. “It’s not good for you to stay here all day long. You need to start moving.”
His voice was full of worry, though he wasn’t overbearing. He wanted the best for you, it’s all he ever wanted really.
“I don’t know Peter, I don’t think I can.” you sighed as tears started to fill your eyes again. How could anyone stand to be around you when you were being so pathetic. You wished there was a way to erase your pain, anything to bring you to your normal self again.
“It's okay baby,” Peter hugged you into a tight embrace, kissing your tears as they fell in slow salty streams. “I know it hurts, I feel it too. But I read somewhere that the best thing to do is keep a consistent routine. Maybe you should start today. Come get lunch with me.”
You wanted to agree, but there was no part of you that could move from the weight of your grief. It pressed you down, gravity multiplied by the mass of your sadness as it consumed you. It felt as if only a miracle could save you now.
“I’m so sorry.” you stated with remorse, but Peter made no move to share his disappointment if he had any at all. Instead he leaned down from his seated position and placed his lips on your forehead, a gesture as if to say that all was alright.
“Please don’t cry, y/n. It’s okay.” he assured you before standing to leave and get you something that you figured you probably wouldn’t even eat very much of.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised, turning the handle of your door to leave before looking back at you sprawled on your bed. Suddenly, as if he had recalled the cure to the rainiest of days, he expression shifted to one of great excitement as he stopped back into your room.
“I almost forgot,” he began. “Doctor Strange was here earlier. He wanted me to tell you he’s offering some meditation sessions for you if you’re interested. He said they’d be good for your powers and that they might help you feel better if you want to think about it. He’s free at 8 tomorrow.”
You nearly perked up at the sound of the man’s name, picking up your head to cast a last longing glance at Peter as he waited for a parting word.
“Thanks,” you managed. “I’ll let you know.”
And off Peter went to get you both something to eat.
You weren’t sure if he knew how dangerous it was for you to be left with your thoughts, how the mention of the magic doctor sprouted a myriad of mystical ideas all aimed at the same goal that would erase your eternal lonesome aching. How to bring your father back. By the time Peter returned with his hands full of two homemade sandwiches and more sweets than the two of you could ever finish in one sitting, your mind had been made up and you were ready to set the plan in motion.
The following evening was your first time out of the confines of your rooms for days. Peter had helped you greatly with all the tasks you did not have the mental power to do all on your own. He had brushed your hair and made your bed and before you left in one of the less expensive cars held on Avenger’s campus, he sent you off adorned with one of his favorite sweatshirts, a peck on the forehead and enough I love you’s to last more than a lifetime.
You pulled the sleeve of Peter’s sweatshirt over your palm as you drove off, using the cloth to wipe away fresh tears that had fallen after you left your boyfriend’s loving gaze. You’d always been an overthinker, but your bad habits crept up on you worse in your unbreakable stage of sadness. Especially in your father’s favorite car.
You didn’t understand why he hadn’t left you already. Maybe he would. Peter had offered to join you at Strange’s, but after you insisted you had to go alone, he made plans to go help his Aunt May figure out their apartment situation as the pair had been inadvertently kicked out after being gone for so many years. You’d almost forgotten he used to split his nights between the compound and his own bedroom. Recently he’d only stay with you.
He promised to be back before dinner so that the two of you could keep up your progress, but an unsolicited voice within you convinced you that he wouldn’t want to return. You weren’t good enough for him anymore, not like you used to be. Your plan was better for the both of you and as you pulled up to the familiar building on Bleecker Street, all the pieces started to fall into place.
You stepped up to the door, raising your fist to knock only for the door to crack open by itself as if to invite you in. You waited for the familiar sternness of Doctor Strange’s voice to greet you once you were past the stone floored foyer, but only wisps of the autumn breeze caught your ear.
“Strange?” you called, your voice still not stable enough to be louder than a whispery dialogue. You were met with no response. It was just like you had planned. The wizard wasn’t home.
You felt a strong tug towards the room of your desires, the forbidden library. It was as if fate was leading you or some other force from above, another sign that you were meant to do it.
Your steps were more sure than they had been in days as you made your way to the self, passing any magical fire walls with the sheer unfiltered strength of your powers. Strange once told you that they were guided by your emotion, the quintessential essence of every magic holder even to people like you and Wanda Maximoff who were outside of his world protecting wizard cult. It was easier than it should have been, like slicing paper with a katana, you broke each enchantment until all that was left was the cool leather cover of the book you were looking for. The book with every answer you needed inside its ancient yellowing pages, but you only needed the spell that would revive your father. Locating it near the middle of the book, your tore out the page and turned back to your car, leaving the Sanctum with the same unhurried pace you had entered it with. There was no stopping you now.
Peter was only an half an hour late for your agreed meet up time when he arrived at the campus. He expected you’d be in your room as per usual and as he made his way to your door, the excitement of getting to hold you and talk about your first day out of the campus since the funeral built up in his chest. He wasn’t sure if any accomplishment in the world could make him as proud as he was of you. With two brown paper bags of groceries in his hand, he couldn’t wait to shower you in the affection that you deserved with all of your favorite snacks, enough to share of course.
“Y/n,” he smiled, using his webbing to open your door handle only to find, much to his disappointment, that you were nowhere to be found.
He checked all over campus, leaving the bags by your bed. No one had seen you since you’d left and the spot where the car you’d taken was still empty, the normally pristine concrete covered in fallen crisp maroon leaves. It didn’t make any sense. Where could you possibly have gone?
“Y/n!” he called, circling the perimeter of the campus looking for you. There was still no sign of your reappearance. “Y/n- oh. Hi Ms. Maximoff.” Peter forced a strained smile as he nearly bumped into the woman.
“Peter, we’ve been over this,” Wanda answered, her voice calm. “You can call me Wanda.”
Like you, the witch hadn’t been doing the best in recent days as she had lost something just as valuable as a father: her partner. While she occasionally had days where the ground would’ve been lucky to feel the grace of her step, her superhero duties had kept her from spending each day hidden from society. She had a different way of coping, but like others, she seemed to start getting back into routine again.
“Right, sorry Wanda.” Peter apologized.
“What are you doing out here?” inquired the witch in her native Sokovian accent, always intuitive. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s y/n. I can’t find her anywhere and we agreed to meet back here nearly - an hour ago!” Peter pulled up his coat sleeve to check the time on his watch, the face of which bore a picture of him and your father from only a few months before the snap. It had been a birthday gift, one of his favorites in fact, though it couldn't top what you had given him the same year: a lego set and your first kiss.
“I didn’t know that she got out of bed. That’s a big step!”
“Yes it is and we were going to celebrate tonight, but she hasn’t come back yet which is really not like her.” worried Peter.
“Where did she go?”
“Strange’s. He was going to give her a meditation lesson for her powers.”
Confused, Wanda's eyebrow furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Doesn’t she know how to use them already?”
“Yes, but he thought it would help her manage her grief. Working out is a pretty common method, but she hates going to the gym so he figured some meditation would be better for her and -“
“Wait, hold on. Did she go to him this morning?”
“Yes and she was supposed to be back around noon, but it’s nearly six and she’s still gone.” Peter explained.
“Peter!” Wanda chided. She couldn't believe he could make such a grave mistake.
“What?”
“Strange hasn’t been at the Sanctum all day!”
“What?! Where is he?”
“Do I look like a wizard to you?" the witch gestured to her casual leggings and cardigan pairing that drastically differed from Strange's usual eccentric costumes. "How should I know?”
As if summoned by the topic of conversation, a figure appeared in the distant grass, hovering over the blades until he was close enough to be able to walk. His cape that flowed in the breeze like a blood red stream with a mind of its own was a dead give away. Doctor Strange had indeed arrived in the flesh.
“Parker,” he greeted, though he did not smile. “Is Ms. Stark ready for our lesson?”
Peter’s eyes went wide as he realized his mistake.
“Oh no.” he muttered, shaking his head in defeat. He was met with confusion from the wizard.
“No?” Strange repeated. “We agreed upon 8 didn't we? I know I'm a little early, but I assumed she wouldn't be busy. Didn’t you let her know I was coming?”
“Yes,” Peter confirmed. “I told her to be ready and then I sent her off to your place at 8… am.”
“What?!” Strange exclaimed as he summoned a portal to appear leading directly to his found home on Bleecker Street. He stepped through the fiery ring, a silent invitation for the others to follow as he hurried passed your car, up the steps, and into the door which did not part of him the same way it had earlier. Inside he was met with the most frightful of discovers accompanied by the looming feeling of doom as the situation became clear.
The Sanctum, unguarded with his absence, lay littered with books that had fallen from their homes on his shelf’s yet one stood out from all the others. It laid on the floor open with its pages to the ground while every other book was shut. Levitating it with the simple flick of his wrist, a horrifying sight awaited Strange as he turned it over. One of the pages in the sacred book was missing.
“Do you know how serious this is?!” Strange exclaimed and although Peter at first took it as a barbed criticism aimed directly at him, he was able to distinguish Strange’s tone from when he was reprimanding. This was a separate kind of worry, the sort of tone that he had used heavily on the fated spaceship you three had been stuck in until you landed on Titan, Thanos’ home world, nearly five years ago. Treachery was afoot and if your powers were involved, the whole fabric of your current reality could change.
“Which one did she take?” Wanda pointed to the book, clearly noticing the giant tear in its center.
Strange’s voice answered, heavy with concern. “The revival spell.”
“You don’t think she knows, do you? She can’t possibly know how to conjure it.” asked Wanda, the same concern for their future written all over her face.
“That’s exactly what I think.” Strange confirmed.
“What?” Peter asked. “What are you guys talking about?”
“There are many types of magic, Parker, and the Sanctum, the building where you sent your girlfriend, is full of all of them, good and bad alike. Every spell comes with a price, the bigger the spell, the bigger the price and the spell she took comes with one of the biggest prices there is to pay.”
“Think about it, Peter,” Wanda paled. “What does y/n want most in the world right now?”
It hit Peter harder than fresh fallen hail. You were going to try to bring your father back.
“We have to find her. Now.”
Strange tried to use his sling ring to appear wherever you were, but in your grief, the extent of your powers had grown massively. Intentionally or not, you managed to prevent even the most powerful of wizards from using his Sling Ring to access your location.
“She's blocked me out.” Strange frowned. “We’re going to have to track her on foot.”
“She can’t be far,” Peter agreed. “She always takes the shortest path whenever she wants something.” It was one of the many things he loved about you: your ability to turn any taxing task into something much simpler. You were one of the cleverest people he knew. He just hoped it didn’t work in your favor this time.
It was Wanda who had the idea of tracking your magic. She led them to the nearest withering woodland area, where trees with bare branches and dying leaves sprawled endlessly. It was the perfect place to perform dark magic, away from the unyielding eyes of society. The trio didn’t hesitate to run in.
The further they got, the closer you felt especially to Peter despite the fact that he was the only one without his own source of magic. If he lost you tonight, he feared he’d never feel any sort of magic ever again.
They were only half an acre in when Wanda and Strange called out in anguish, the witch falling to her knees while Strange stayed standing, pounding the air with his fist as his trying to break through an invisible barrier though it was to no avail. Whatever was holding him back, it wasn’t fading anytime soon.
“Keep going, Parker!” he shouted, urging Peter forward. “You’re the only one who can stop her. The spell will only allow that which she loves.”
“How do I do it?” Peter shouted. “How do I stop the spell?”
“The page,” Wanda replied, quicker than Strange could as his reply was easy for her to access. “You have to tear it apart.”
Without wasting a second more, Peter sprung back towards where he could feel you, running without fatigue as his superhuman endurance supplied him with plenty of energy.
It was only a minute later that he caught his first sign of you. There was a break in the tree line out of which a bright amber glow poured like an incandescent warning. It was a dramatic contrast from the normal comforting emerald greens of your magic, but it was you nonetheless and Peter didn’t stop until he was so close he had to shade his eyes from the light.
If it weren’t for the dark nature of what you were doing, Peter would’ve considered it one of the most beautiful events he’d ever seen take place. He wasn’t sure if the circle of trees that surrounded you had been a natural formation or one you made for the sake of the spell, but he was sure the way they seemed to bend to your will, despite the hard wood of their birch trunks, had to be because of your power. In the center of it all was you and the page you had stolen atop a pile of purple and golden leaves. You stood before it, eyes closed as you whispered some sort of incantation. Your powers spread above you in orange flickering flames as you outstretched your arms and summoned what looked like the beginnings of a portal, though it was hard to peer through like a bride covered in a veil of night black.
Peter shouted your name, screaming for you to stop, but you didn’t so much as flinch as the portal grew. You couldn’t hear him over the force of your will. He could start to feel what Wanda and Strange were trapped behind. There was some sort of invisible wall that threatened to push him back from you, but he couldn’t be defeated. He had to stop you. Step by step, he got closer and closer to you, watching in horror as your body was lifted from the ground and floated in midair. A new energy started weeping through the fabric that covered your chest, soft and white like a sheer glittering fabric. It drifted towards the portal and as Peter neared you he could make out the outline of a face forming from it in the black center of it. It started to take shape, growing a neck and a body and becoming more concrete than a fragmented part of your energy. He became more unmistakable as the color grew back into his face. Tony Stark, in the flesh. Peter hurried towards the page.
You opened your eyes to gaze into the face of your father, tears flowing down your face partially from the exhaustion of bringing him back and from being able to see him again.
You tried to say something, tell him how much you had missed him, but you were left rendered without a voice. Your words came out as mouthed nonsense, though it seemed he had regained his voice.
“Y/n,” he uttered, though it seemed more like a warning than a greeting after being torn from you for so long.
You mouthed something you knew he’d understand. I love you too, dad.
Some other force called your name, but you ignored it. You couldn’t focus on anything else, but the father you had lost regaining life right in front of you. With every part that he gained, you felt a part of your fade. It wasn’t painful, more numbing than anything like the final dose to end all your sadness. You couldn’t help but relish in it. You were bringing back one of the greatest men to ever live.
You were so distracted, you missed the web that landed on the page below you and pulled it away.
“Y/n,” your dad said again, nearly having enough of one of his legs to step out of the portal when suddenly, the inky blackness swallowed him whole again and dissolved in the forest light, taking back the only thing you ever wanted.
“NO!” you cried as your voice returned to you and you fell back down to the dry grass and dead leaves, crumpled on the forest floor as all of the magic you had summoned faded away save for the glittering cloud that returned to your chest with such force it made you cough. You had failed.
“Y/n!” someone called and you shuddered away from their hand on your shoulder as loud sobs erupted from you.
“Leave me!” you begged. “Just leave!” Peter refused to leave your side, tossing behind him the page he had shredded into tiny scraps of paper as he knelt beside you, careful not to touch you again. “Why did you have to do that? Why did you take him from me?”
“You were going to die! I couldn’t let you di-“
“I WANTED TO DIE!”
Peter froze as you whimpered, the truth spreading above the both of you in the cold air like storm clouds as you cried to him.
“I want him back. Everyone wants him back. No one cares about his depressed daughter and I don’t want to hurt anymore, Peter.” you paused to take a deep breath. “It- it hurts so much.” you could barely get the words out as you were choked by your sobs. “It hurts knowing I could’ve saved him. It hurts knowing it should’ve been me that snapped those stupid stones. And I don’t want to live with that anymore. I had to try to bring him back for the world. It needs him more than it needs me.”
You brought a hand to your face, wiping away some of your tears, though it was no use as more came pouring out.
“I need you.” uttered Peter, looking into your glossy eyes. The sight of your tears and the echo of your screams couldn’t deter him from you. You can’t be repelled from the ones that you love.
“But you miss him, don’t you,” you argued as hot tears coated your face. “You want him back too.”
Peter nodded in agreement.
“I think about him everyday. Our moments together. Like this one time he saved me from drowning in a lake. Or-“ Peter grinned. “- remember when he caught us making out that one time before we told him we were together. He was so mad.” Peter smiled to himself, looking fondly on the memory until he began again.
“I miss him so much and it makes me so sad that I'll never see him again. But I wouldn’t trade you for him. I wouldn't trade you for anyone. You’re worth more to me than anyone else in the universe.”
Your sobs slowed yet the tears did not cease as they still cascaded down your face.
“It hurts me so much.” you restated.
Peter opened his arms. “May I?” he asked. You nodded and before you knew it, you were engulfed by a warmth unlike any other as Peter hugged you tight enough to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave him again.
“I know you do,” he related. "And I wish I could take it away. I wish I could just bag all your pain and throw it all away. But it doesn't work like that. It's going to hurt. It's going to be painful, so much so that you won't move from bed for days and days. You haven't."
"But I feel like everyone else has already moved on. Why can't I?" you shivered.
"No one else was as close to him as you. Everyone else lost a friend. You lost a father. There's a big difference. You can't expect yourself to move on from it. That's not healthy. It's just like I said, I'm here for you no matter how long it takes. You have to take your time with it, don’t rush the process." Peter pressed the lightest of kisses to one of your dampened cheeks.
"I just don't know what to do."
"Breathe."
As silly as it sounded in its simplicity you did as he instructed and inhaled deeply, allowing the air to coat your lungs that hadn’t been exposed to so much fresh air in a week. As you exhaled, you let out another sob in his arms, but somehow it felt better than all the others. You were not rid of your pain by any means and sadness still corroded your core, but for the first time in so long, you didn’t feel so hopeless. Peter placed another gentle kiss on your cheek, encouraging you as you took several more slow breaths and quiet cries until you found the strength to speak again.
“Was it like this for you when your parents died?” you wondered aloud as you pulled away from Peter to look into his chocolate brown eyes that you almost forgot you loved so much, yet not so far that he couldn't keep his arms around your frame that was still bearing his sweatshirt. You hadn’t spoken much about them before and while you weren’t sure where the question had arisen from, it felt like the right thing to ask.
“I was so young when they passed, sometimes I feel like they were never mine to begin with,” he admitted. “I took a couple days off school when it happened, but I don’t remember crying all that much. It’s tragic and sometimes it makes me sad that they’re gone, but I’m glad that it does. It’s a reminder that they were there for me in the first place, that I knew them enough to miss them. The grief is proof that I loved them while they were here.”
You were both silent for a moment as you thought about his words in relation to your situation. All your pain was put into perspective. Everything you had been through since he died, all the days you wasted away in bed, it was all the proof that you had loved him so much when he was alive and that you were still carrying the love you had left for him. You missed your father so much you were willing to die to get him back and for a moment, you almost did.
You parted from Peter’s arms to stand though you still grasped onto his hands as you weren’t strong enough to be upright on your own. You closed your eyes again and listened to the sound of the forest, the swaying of the leaves that still clung to their branches, the faint twittering of birds, and the calm of the sky that was oddly cloudless for autumn. The sound of your name falling from your father’s reformed lips was still faint in the air and for a moment you felt as though you were with him again.
You remembered when he taught you how to ride a bike one evening when you were only four. You remembered the day he pulled you from public school and started teaching you at home. You remembered the look of shock on his face when you showed him your powers for the first time and even more, you remember his pride when you completed your first mission with the Avengers (that he'd approved ahead of time to avoid any more Germany -like surprises). He wasn’t there, but at the same time he was everywhere. And you missed him, but at the same time the absence he left in your life felt less empty.
The tears came out in slow smooth streams, flowing down in slow trickles as you finally sat back down. You didn’t say anything and neither did Peter, but you knew he could feel what you felt. He could feel your father too and minutes slipped by as you sat and cried together.
There was a sudden rustling in the distance and soon enough, Doctor Strange and Wanda had arrived at the scene, no longer held back by invisible barriers. They rushed to you bringing flooding guilt through your system as you began to apologize.
“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”
Strange opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing to say. You could tell by his expression that he was disappointed, but there was more to it. He had empathy.
It was Wanda that leaned down to place a friendly hand on your shoulder.
“Let’s get you home.”
The months following were some of the hardest of your life. Every battle you faced was uphill, but you no longer felt like you were fighting alone. You started going out again, first to visit Pepper and your half sister Morgan who lived in their cabin home. Peter joined you of course, but he played with Morgan for the most part while you and Pepper talked. You cried with her, but you laughed a lot too. She shared with you so many of her own memories, times when your father didn't know what to get you for your birthday, when he had managed to mess up cooking dinner in the strangest of ways, and when he’d accidentally burned your favorite stuffed animal in the drying machine all of which Pepper had to remedy. Though she hadn’t raised you, she was the mother you never had and through her stories you learned that your father had been just as good raising Morgan with her as he had been with you.
You hung out with Ned and MJ again shortly after that. While Peter had suggested a brief check-in at a cafe so you could go home quickly to rest, you surprised him with a much more time consuming idea: laser tag. The four of you had the best time targeting each other, you winning more rounds than any of the others. You ended the day with smoothies, talking as you drank and making plans for the next time you would all see each other. MJ made you promise you would text her if you ever needed anything and Ned gave you a whole plate of his Lola’s ensaymadas, your favorite dish of hers.
Finally, though he was locked up in his house and avoiding humanity, you visited Happy. Peter offered to join you like all the other times, but you assured him it would be best if he stayed home, promising you would return later. Happy was in a similar state of dismay to you when you saw him and while he was able to care for himself and continue with his personal routine, you could tell he was hurting.
You didn't say much when you first entered his apartment, but there was comfort within the silence. You sat with him on his sofa and watched whatever mind numbing program he had turned on to distract his thoughts until you had both worked up an appetite for lunch. It was there, in the middle of a random Burger King in Queens over a plate of cheeseburgers that you both broke down. You told him what you had nearly done, trusting him with the sensitive information as he was almost a second father to you. You took your time telling him the story of how you had nearly died to bring back your father.
Happy cried as you did and when you were finished, he told you how much you meant to him. He traded your story for one from your father after he returned from Afghanistan where he had famously been kidnapped.
"You could tell he was shaken," Happy began. "He told me he wasn't scared to die, but he was scared of losing time with you and leaving you alone. Pepper and I had been so busy trying to get him back, he was worried you had been neglected while he was gone. But when he came home and he saw your room clean, your toys put away, and a fridge full of leftovers from meals you prepared yourself, he was so proud. You inspired him to turn his life around. It was after that he told me that he knew you'd be okay if he was taken from us one day."
You both cried after that.
Long after you had finished your food, Happy drove you to the Parker's new apartment with the promise that he would be okay too, eventually. He also admitted that he was starting to develop quite the liking for your faithful boyfriend after hearing all that he had done for you, though he’d skin you alive if you ever told Peter.
It was that night in Peter's new bedroom that you knew you’d be okay. It still hurt to think of your father and you knew you’d never entirely recover and that the pain would never fully leave you, but there was a certain comfort in it now. You knew Peter felt it too as he snuggled half asleep into your side, his arm slung around your body in a protective manner, but also to keep from falling of the twin bed you shared as he let you sleep on the side with the wall. There were still days when you didn’t want to leave your bed, but there were also days when you felt more elated than ever. You could feel your father in those moments the most, like the shine of his smile took form in the light from the sun. You couldn’t see him nor could you speak with him, but you knew he wasn’t really gone. It was love that kept him around. And it was the love you carried for him that would suspend you for lifetimes, through light and dark until the end of time.
“I hope this grief stays with me because its all the unexpressed love” - Andrew Garfield 💙
#tom holland x you#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x reader#peter parker#mental health#suicide awareness#avengers endgame#tony stark#stark!daughter#stark!reader#fem!reader#you are loved
56 notes
·
View notes
Note
🥣 anons back! (Did I submit an ask for both of your accounts? Maybe.) SO we all know that scene where Sky is playing his harp because he misses Zelda, so assuming he would do the same for reader when he misses them, how would the rest of the boys cope with missing their dear, sweet reader?
Yo wait-
This one makes me so sad like what-
long post ahead 😭
Okay okay okay— Sky with the harp. Playing songs that his partner always used to request from him. Songs that they love. Yes. 100%.
Four, I think, would hold onto something physical of his partner’s. Keeping a little trinket of some sort that they made for him, or wrote, or drew. Loves reading it every night if it’s a writing, or memorising every detail of it if it’s a drawing. If it’s a physical trinket, he will 100% hold it in his sleep. He once physically slapped Wars when the captain tried to take it, and since then, no one has gone anywhere near his bag.
Time, I think, would pick flowers. No one ever remarks on it, nor do they ever try to ask him what he’s doing. They tried, once, but never managed to will up the courage to do it when they saw the sad look in his eyes. When his longing for his partner is really bad, he will carry the flower as they walk, and will literally get sad if he loses it. Then, proceeds to find another one. It’s the only time they ever really see him as the child hero he once was, because the way he picks flowers, looking for them even, is just so soft and small that they often find it hard to believe that this is their Old Man.
Legend wouldn’t do much, I think. At least, not so obviously. He strikes me as the kind to just stare up at the sky, or over the land, or out across the sea. Just staring out, hoping that, in whatever timeline his partner was in or where he’d left them, that they were looking out over the same view as he was. He hates the feeling of missing people, thanks to Koholint, but the feeling of missing his partner back home is an oddly nostalgic, sweet feeling. If the day is particularly bad, he’ll draw in the dirt, or mud, or sand.
Twilight, in my mind, would try to just distract himself in nature. In whatever way he can. Though, if it’s dark, he will find or make a source of light. Man cannot be in the dark if he’s missing his partner, because it sends his mind down a spiralling path of whether or not he’ll see them again. It only got worse after he’d gotten wounded by the Shadow. Most days/nights when he misses his partner, he will stare into the light, or look up at the sky.
Hyrule, when he misses his partner, will make an attempt to be as close to any member of the group as he can. Unlike the others, he likes the comfort of being near another person, and finding comfort in their company. He won’t be clingy or anything like that, but he will remain close to someone. His favourites to be around are Wild and Four, surprisingly enough, when he misses his partner. He finds joy in being able to talk and laugh with them, to somewhat fill the void of his partner’s absence from his side.
Wind, I think, would clutch something on his own person. Either his sister’s telescope, or maybe the fairy pendant, or even just twisting his hands. It doesn’t help much, but if he tries hard enough, he can kinda imagine that it’s his partner’s hand he’s holding, or maybe his partner’s curious examination of his things. He relies mostly on his thoughts and memories to soothe his longing, though the things that helps most is to just sit on the beach, under the sun, if they’re close enough to one for him to be able to do so.
Warriors’ habits when he misses his partner, are to forgo maintaining himself. It’s a jarring and odd sight for the rest of the boys, for sure, when the day or days come when Wars walks around with his hair disheveled from sleep, or his shirt untucked, or wearing his scarf lopsided or haphazardly. It was so weird the first time. But as it happens a bit more often, he actually willingly explains that it is because he misses his partner. That also surprises them, and understandably so. He explains that his partner would oftentimes help him in the morning, when he was too tired to do so himself. Combing his hair back, or fixing his collar, or adjusting his scarf. No one says anything more on the matter…though sometimes they’ll help him by fixing his scarf, or collar for him. They leave the hair, though.
Finally, as for when Wild misses his partner, he will be, on those particular days, calm. If he’s reckless and headstrong with his brothers, then he’s even worse with his partner back home. Though when he finds that he misses them, he will take it back a level, or three. Because he wants to make sure, more so on those days than on any other, that he can make it back to them alive. Or, when it’s already a calm day, he’ll make their favourite food for dinner. Or a special dessert.
#Feel free to use these if you’d like#I love this ask#Totally wouldn’t mind if anyone else wants to build on or elaborate better on these#chain answers#🥣 anon
44 notes
·
View notes
Note
what's the most fucked up thing/AU/whatever you made? I wanna desensitize myself to your work before diving in.
Starting out with saying I wouldn't condone any of the bad shit within my stories, often times these are just what ifs I find interesting to look into. I wouldn't look at an actual murderer irl and go "Awesome" but I'll joke around with my villain Mikey like "He hasn't done a thing wrong heart emoji" when he has actively killed and enjoyed the murder of multiple people.
A lot of my aus are more toned down from my regular more personal works, solely because I can't help but go a bit easier on the turtles since they are a comfort for me and I wouldn't find my more personal topics appropriate for the turtles.
Overall, I'd say body horror, disease, self harm, suicide, murder, and mental/physical abuse/child abuse/neglect is something to look out for in a lot of my works, along with gore and injury in general. I also have a tendency to write cannibalism (an interesting motif to me, I would not condone it irl, obviously) and/or autocannibalism (to cope with personal issues I am not comfortable elaborating on, it's some Mental health stuff.) Overall I like putting the turtles through it, lmao.
(Forgot to add animal abuse/death)
I will never directly delve into the topic of sex within my works (as in you'll never see me write any of them doing such acts), but I have a handful of somewhat older Leo's who specifically deal with unhealthy romance, one of these is within my magical boys au where all four experience some level of inappropriateness due to their fame, not once is this a good thing, and this is meant to be a bad thing within the story. The other has a Leo who dates around a lot but always falls short due to his anxieties and commitment issues. He never goes through with it, though he likes to joke about more sexual topics. (He's crude.)
The magical boys au, priorly mentioned, contains underage drinking and smoking, mental health issues, self-harm, and the boys being mistreated and abused within their own workplace, one way or another.
One of my oneshots currently has a younger child get murdered in it, though I've deliberately made the death surrounding it not as detailed, as even if younger children die in my stories it makes me uncomfortable to focus on it the same I would other characters, unless it's an injury a child survives, then it's a 50/50. This is a situation that is conflicting for the main character, but is done out of survival's sake. (In his eyes.)
Viral.Donnie has evolved into a character that focuses on addiction later on, and I do tend to give the turtles addictions depending on the story.
Million Dollar Box/Villain Mikey has hallucinations, vivid, probably not 100% accurate, but these are not his real brothers. Story wise, they are a way to delve into his mental state and look at his conflicting feelings about his family.
Villain Raph is less developed, but he actively is mentally (and physically) abusive to his brothers in his own way.
A lot of the time, my writing style mixes with the thoughts and personality of the main focus, and a lot of these times, the characters are not rational nor moral. Untrustworthy narrators are fun.
You will see I don't like actively splitting up the turtles entirely very much. Normally, I'd be able to do it easily, but I have a soft spot for them. Hell, Viral Donnie, Villain Raph, and Million Dollar Box Mikey's follow-up story gives them a family after losing theirs. Most of the time, if one turtle falls, I take the others, or at least one others with them. For fun.
I try to not go for just shock value, even if I like describing the horrors I like having a reasoning, whether it be some insane deeper meaning I made up, it fitting a character/their personality, or just being interesting for me. I do my best to tag all potentially triggering topics within my works, but I may slip up at times. Apologies for that.
Horror is my main fixation overall outside of TMNT, and I like various types of it. The Nonsense Apocalypse AU is supposed to be a mixture of slice of life and horror, resulting in a world that just doesn't make sense, with some more... serious aspects on top.
I hope this helps, I kinda went on a ramble, but I didn't want too much confusion since most of my actual aus aren't fully out yet in any way.
Hope it helps again, Anon.
#nardo's asks.txt#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#rise leo#rottmnt leo#rise donnie#rottmnt donnie#rise mikey#rottmnt mikey#rise raph#rottmnt raph#rottmnt au#idk how to tag this specificly tbh#info? loredump? its not rlly either#long post#????????
21 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
thenightmarketofdathomir
The Night Market of Dathomir
trellz-crawford313
Untitled
greattechgeeksraleigh-blog
Great Tech Geeks
y-uyan
everyday is 朱星杰
followgeorgegr
FollowGeorge.gr