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wave2tyun · 2 months

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apple cider | ☆

pairing: huening kai x reader

genre: fluff, childhood friends to lovers

summary: you were foolishly blind to the feelings you held for your best friend, huening kai, until one they, they started to bottle up like soda pop

warnings: slight injury?? nothing serious<3

word count: 3.5k

notes: apple cider by beabadoobee has been ON REPEAT!!!! these past few days!!!!1!1! which is why i believed it might be the perfect time to bring this fic back!!😋 i love love love writing things based on songs, and this is (obviously asbdsjha) where the inspo for this fic came from, as well as the studio ghibli movie 'from up on poppy hill'!! :D also, is it just me or do 24 hours in a day simply not feel like enough anymore......?😖

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

huening kai was the definition of a sweetheart. grandmas loved him, animals adored him, he was the type of boy anybody's parents would be delighted to meet if you brought him home. and most importantly, he was your best friend.

you and kai met in kindergarten. your very first interaction happened when your parents were late to pick you up, so you, a sensitive child started crying a river. kai was even faster than the teacher to approach you, napkin in his hand and a sweet smile on his face. he patted your back until your parents arrived, sometimes cracking some pokemon impressions in an attempt to make you smile again like he saw you earlier that morning. during your arts and crafts session the next day, you made kai a sloppy drawing of his favorite pokemon character, which, to this day, he insists is the greatest gift he has ever received, the treasured piece of paper sitting in a frame on his nightstand to remain in pristine condition.

from that day on, you only ended up spending more and more time together. you switched seats so that you could sit next to each other during classes, played together during breaks and became lunch buddies, an unspoken promise which had been kept during primary school, middle school, and even now, as you were both high school students in your last year. kai grew up to be a piano prodigy, thus becoming the president of the school's music club. you, on the other hand, wasn't any interested in any extracurricular activities, preferring to stay in bed and sleep your day away on the days where your parents weren't attacking you with house chores. still, you and kai were stuck together like glue. you talked on the phone every day at midnight, rambling on about your day or about anything that crossed your mind; you tried your best to meet up outside of school whenever your schedules allowed, popping a cold bottle of your favorite sweet apple cider.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

your eyes scanned the tables for kai once again. he told you to meet up at the outside dining area, but 15 minutes had passed and he was nowhere to be seen. you huffed, placing your tray down at a table where some of your classmates sat. ‘can’t believe he’d ditch me today’ you angrily pierced the straw through your milk carton.

the sound of a loud horn startled you, making you almost choke on your drink. the highest windows of the school were opened with a bang, paper scrolls coming out of them, followed by the heads of some students as they were peeking out.

“are those the club leaders?” someone at your table asked.

“yeah...seems like so” yunjin answered “what are they up to now?”

you shielded your eyes with your hand, squinting as you tried to read the words written on the papers.

‘lack of freedom kills the people’

“they’re protesting” you broke the silence, making everyone’s head turn towards you “the principal has been wanting to shut down the clubs”

some students gathered around the dining area, they moved in sync and with fast movements, taking out the grate that was placed over the water basin outside. you shrugged, going back to your meal. you weren’t exactly sure what they were going to achieve with this. not even a minute later, yunjin gave you a tap on the shoulder, pointing towards the roof.

“isn’t that-“ she stopped midway, unable to finish her sentence. your face was instantly drained of color at the sight.

it was huening kai.

“what the hell is he doing up there” you mumbled, frowning. you didn’t have a good feeling about this- whatever this was.

huening kai had a bright smile plastered on his face, the whole school’s attention being on him. he coughed then cleared his throat before loudly speaking.

“if our words weren’t enough to reach principal Jung, then that means that it is time for us to turn to actions” he inched closer towards the edge of the roof. his voice remained confident, but his hands betrayed him, shaking as he held the mic close to his chest.

you gulped. you felt nauseous, an empty feeling was taking over your stomach despite the distance between the roof and the ground not being that high.

“if you don’t want to respect us- we will make ourselves heard” huening kai turned his head, looking back at the boys behind him, who gave him a short nod. then, he put the mic down, taking a deep breath before diving into the air, aiming for the water basin.

the plan was easier said than done, and kai stumbled into a bush before landing down on his knees in the shallow water. the members of the photography club were quick to capture the moment, just like you were quick to jump out of your seat and approach the boy. “are you okay-“ you reached your hand out to help him stand up. kai’s smile never faltered away, and once he was back on his feet, he gave you a wink as he clasped your hands together. the bright flashes of the cameras surrounded you in an instant, the photographers pushing through to get “the best shot”.

your cheeks turned a bright shade of red, and you let go of his hands, mumbling as you went back to your seat “stupid- so stupid” you continued to stuff your face with the sandwich you had packed in your lunch bag. why was your face burning that much anyway- you shook your head, trying to ignore the thoughts invading your mind, as well as the hushed whispers coming from all around you. you couldn’t let such foolish actions disturb your day.

kai, as usual, still called you that night. you, however, loved being stubborn. when you saw his name coming up on the screen of your phone, you contemplated for a few minutes, before swiping to deny the call. ‘that should teach him’ you thought. barely a minute later, you were already regretting your decision. you were still mad at him, yet, for some reason, you still wanted to hear his voice, just like every other night. it never mattered to you whether it was a proper conversation. you didn’t care what kai would be talking about- you just wanted to feel like you had him, in some way, close to you, though your pride didn’t allow you to be the one to initiate another call. why was it that you wished to hear him so badly? after all, you didn’t even like him...right? or at least- you didn’t even like him that much- right?

you tossed and turned in your bed, unable to let your eyelids close.

fuck.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

dark circles adored your eyes as a result of the poor sleep you had last night. you wished you could skip the first period and remain in bed for just a few minutes more, but your mom wasn’t having any of that. she took the blanket off your bed and opened your window, forcing you to get up and get ready for the day.

you stood in the hallway, head buried in the school’s newspaper, which teased ‘a revolution’ as well as ‘an endearing romance’ with a big image of you and kai holding hands on the front page.

“is there any way i could make it up to you?” you heard a voice near you.

you closed your locker’s door, kai’s face coming into sight, grinning as always. you wanted to ignore him for the day, pretending to be mad at him for the embarrassment that he had put you through the day before. but kai knew you too well- he had already anticipated your reaction to his stunt, and he wasn’t going to let you get rid of him so easily.

“depends. do you have anything in mind?” you crossed your arms, leaning on your side against the locker.

“apple cider, 10 pm at the playground. sounds good?”

you bit your lip to fight back the smile that was threatening to take over your face. looking down at the floor, you chuckled.

“i guess that would suffice. we’ll see”

the bell rang, signaling the end of your break. kai took the chance to quickly ruffle your hair before sprinting to his class. ‘dork’ you snorted, putting it back into place before going your own way.

you were quick to prepare dinner that day. both of your parents were taken aback by the stark change in your attitude compared to how you behaved in the morning, the sudden surge in energy being questionable. they chose not to bring it up though, afraid that they might ruin your mood. you arrived at the playground at 10 pm sharp and sat on one of the swings there, protecting the other vacant one from the kids that still lingered around until kai came. and soon enough, there he was, apple cider bottles in his hands (just like he promised) as he approached you. you smiled at the sight.

“are you that happy to see me?”

“you wish- i’m just happy to receive the apple cider” you joked, lying through your teeth.

“ah- i’m hurt” hueningkai frowned, dramatically putting a hand over his heart. you laughed at his cute antics. he took his place on the swing, handing you one bottle.

“that jumper looks pretty on you, i like it”

“t-thanks” you stuttered, looking down, failing to see the tips of his ears turning pink. you took a sip from the bottle, the taste so refreshing and all too familiar.

“so- did you manage to convince the principal not to shut down the clubs?”

kai chuckled, reminiscing the events “yeah-“ he stood up, putting his hands on his hips and clearing his throat before speaking again with an exaggerated lower voice “never in my 40 years in this field have i ever seen such- such outrageous actions” pinching the bridge of his nose, he continued “whatever, just do whatever you want. at this point it’s less of a pain to let you continue than to cancel everything”

you burst into laughter at his silly act. kai always had his imitations spot on, and to you, it was much more entertaining than any kind of comedy movie.

“i’m glad it wasn’t all in vain” your smile died down upon noticing the bandages wrapped around his hand “is your hand okay though?”

“oh- yeah, don’t worry about it, it’s just a scratch” he replied quickly, stuffing it in the pocket of his jacket before sitting back down. you sat in silence for a while after that, kicking around the pebbles underneath your feet.

“i’m sorry” kai whispered softly.

“hm? sorry for what?” you frowned.

“sorry for getting you involved in this, it wasn’t supposed to be like that- i told the other members of the club to remove the picture from the article but they didn’t listen”

“hey- it’s okay” you reassured him “it was out of your control, it wasn’t like you knew this whole fiasco was going to unfold”

“but-“ he tried to argue,

“no buts” you interrupted him, laughing “whatever happened, happened. plus- i got to drink some apple cider. even better since it was with you- so, it’s all good”

kai returned your smile, he seemed to be a bit more at ease after hearing those words. you wished that you could have found the strength to get up and give him a hug too, but you were too afraid that your heart would burst if you did that now.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“i’m home” you shouted as you stepped inside the house. leaving your bag on the floor in the hallway, you dragged your feet to the kitchen and put on the apron to get started on your dinner. your parents never got off work before your classes ended, meaning that the responsibility of preparing food for everybody always fell on you. you opened the cabinet underneath the sink to get some potatoes, but your hand reached out into nothingness. confused, you crouched down to have a better look. your face dropped as you realised that there was nothing left inside. that one vegetable was the whole star of the dish, meaning that there was simply no way to substitute it.

‘shit shit shit-‘ you stormed out the door, wanting to slap yourself in the face as you recalled the moment your mother asked you to stop by the farmer’s market in the morning. maybe, just this once, the traffic would be jammed and your parents wouldn’t be so quick to return home from work. you struggled to put on your jumper as you also held a basket in your hand, wanting to be as quick as possible. just as you were about to make your way down, you someone called out from behind you:

“need a ride?” kai was riding his bike to his grandparents, but stopped in his tracks upon seeing you in such a hurried and panicked state.

“god- yes, please” you fumbled over your words. the timing couldn’t have been any more perfect; you were so grateful to see him there, you could almost see a ray of light shining on him and a halo on top of his head.

“have a seat then” he laughed.

you quickly sat down in the back of kai’s bicycle. looking down at the steep path in front of you, you gulped “are you sure it’s okay for us to ride together?”

“just hold on tight” kai took hold of your hands and wrapped them around his torso before pressing on one pedal with his foot. you couldn’t even brace yourself properly for the impact as you went down the hill of doom; your head instantly hit kai’s muscular back, and you found yourself holding his body tighter. you closed your eyes, trying to shift your focus from the citizens passing by you in a blur, to the sweet scent of his fruit-punch shampoo invading your senses. kai swiftly took a turn to the left, effortlessly avoiding all the possible obstacles in his path. thankfully, you both made it to the farmer’s market in one piece.

sighing in relief, you lifted yourself up and walked to the nearest vegetable stall around. kai remained right next to you, making a purchase of his own. he munched on a freshly fried hashbrown as you did the necessary shopping, holding a second piece in his other hand.

“all done” your shoulders slumped down, the whole thing had drained you both physically and mentally. you quirked an eyebrow as you looked at kai eating.

“what?” he asked, throwing the last piece of food in his mouth “i need energy to go back”

“right” you sighed “thank you so much. i might live to see another day because of you” you tried to joke. in reality, the thought of your parents scolding you alone was enough to make your heart start beating faster.

“don’t worry about it” he chuckled “here- take this” he handed you the hashbrown he had been holding. you took it reluctantly, not having expected to receive something like this.

“eat it- it’s good. plus, you need energy too” kai grabbed his bicycle again, positioning himself on the leather seat “i have to go now, you should probably hurry too.” he smiled “take care, y/n” kai sent you a little wave before setting off. you stood on the side of the road for one more moment, smiling at the hashbrown in your hand. you took the first bite as you started to go up the hill again, the worries that were clouding your head quickly disappearing.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

somehow, soon enough, you found yourself in front of kai’s house. you wanted to thank him for his sweet gesture from a few days ago. if it weren’t for him, your parents would have probably kept you locked in the house. you didn’t know what you were going to say to him. staring at the box of cookies you brought with you, you tried to muster up the courage to knock on the door.

knock knock knock

you waited patiently, biting your lips.

‘maybe there’s still enough time to run-‘

“y/n- hi, come in” kai opened the door, greeting you.

“hi” you blurted out. stepping inside, you took off your shoes, then silently followed behind kai as he guided you towards his room. piano sheets were spread out everywhere- on the floor, on his desk, on his bed. you’ve never seen it look like such a mess.

“oh- sorry, were you practicing?”

“tried to- the music festival is just around the corner, but the song choices are killing me”

“can you show me?” you asked, it was always a pleasure to hear kai practicing, but this time, you were also using this as an excuse to organise your thoughts properly.

“yeah, come here” kai patted the empty space beside him on the piano bench. you hugged the cookie box close to your chest, the short distance between the two of you making you feel nervous.

kai’s fingers glided along the black and white tiles, wrist playfully flicking up as he changed up the speed with ease to create a flawless, harmonious symphony. it sounded perfect- it always did.

“that was great” you spoke softly as he finished up the piece.

“wanna try?” kai offered.

“s-sure” you stuttered, putting down the box. somehow, despite all those years that you’ve known each other, you had never given learning piano a try.

kai took hold of your right hand, placing it on the keys “you have to use the pad of your fingers” he put his hand over yours, gently pressing down to demonstrate. you prayed that he couldn’t hear the loud sound of your palpitating heart “then- move your wrist up before moving on to the next set of notes, then down, like a feather falling” you started to feel light-headed, the feeling of kai’s warm hands on yours making you unable to concentrate on the task at hand. you looked up at him, his face now much closer to you than when you first started practicing. kai’s hand stopped guiding yours, yet didn’t let go of it. he glanced at you, his gaze stopping on your plush, rosy lips.

“holding you closer right now- would that cross the line?” he spoke softly, in a daze.

“maybe i want you to cross the line” you whispered back.

kai stood still for a moment, letting your words sink in. then- with gentle movements, his hand came to rest on your jawline, thumb rubbing against your cheek. he seemed nervous- so nervous to not ruin all of your built-up relationship up until that point. but fuck it- you looked so pretty with that jumper he adored, sitting gingerly on his piano chair, inviting him to finally feel his lips on yours. how was he supposed to resist? and when kai closed the gap, his mouth meeting yours in a gentle peck, it felt so incredibly right, so good and sweet.

one more peck.

his body shifted even closer to you.

another one.

his hand came to rest on your lower back, yours grabbed hold of his soft black sweater.

and once more- but this time, you both let the touch last longer, melting into the feeling.

“can i kiss you more?” kai asked, voice barely above a whisper, his thumb was caressing your lips as he spoke. you nodded, eager to indulge yourself into the taste of his sweet kiss. you hummed as he pressed his lips on yours again, the butterflies in your heart unable to settle down. he grinned into the kiss at the sound, his heart felt warm knowing that you wanted this, and enjoyed this just as much as he did. you pulled away, giving the mole at the corner of his lips a kiss, then you left another on the one near his temple, ending with the one you adored most, the one on his nose. you cupped his face, the temperature of his cheeks rising against your fingertips. kai chuckled as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, the adoration you felt towards him becoming almost too much to handle.

“do you want to stay the night?” kai asked bashfully, his fingers playing with one of your sleeves “i have some apple cider left” he looked up at you, eyes gleaming with hope.

“of course i want to” you giggled, dipping down to leave another peck on his soft lips.

3 bottles of apple cider down, you and kai laid down on the bed, legs tangled with each other as he played with your hair and you braided his. you joked around, playing with the plushies on his bed, sometimes stealing kisses on the cheek from each other and falling into another fit of shy giggles yet again. and when you finally drifted off to sleep, hand in hand, you swore you had never felt your heart feel more at ease.

@huekalover3000 @maybabe00 @sunoooism @boba-beom

#wave2tyun #txt #txt fluff #txt x reader #txt fic #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt smau #txt headcanons #txt huening kai #huening kai fluff #huening kai scenarios #huening kai fic #huening kai x reader #huening kai imagines #huening kai headcanons

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callmelola111 · 11 months

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my summer of you ♡ part one

✄ - - - - part 1 , part 2 - - - - inspo track ⭑ till there was you

synopsis: being sent to your grandparents for the summer was supposed to be a punishment, but when you came face-to-face with your neighbor, you knew it’d be quite the opposite.

| 𓆣 | pairing & wc: loser!ellie williams x neighbor!reader. wc: 4k

| ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, sexual themes but no smut (yet), mentions of religion, tense family relations, perv!ellie makes an appearance, mostly cute fluff moments with a tad bit of angst

a/n: i’ve literally wrote and rewrote so many different fic ideas, it actually was driving me insane. but finally here’s something i’m somewhat satisfied with. this will be a 2 part series so no crazy long wait, and ofc there will be smut. lollipop bit was definitely inspired by the movie hot summer nights except gay and no timothee chalamet jump scare. love you all dearly ♡~ lola

Your 2 vintage suitcases, bursting at the seams, fell to the sidewalk with a thud as you stood in front of your new home for the summer. It was an older house with light blue paneling on the sides, an expansive green lawn, and a wrap-around porch, all surrounded by a classic white picket fence.

Bolting out the front door was the most eager old woman you’d ever seen. Your sweet, sweet grandma. She wrapped you in the biggest embrace and the smell of old Chanel perfume and Jergens lotion overwhelmed your senses. The old woman continued crying out your name pestering you with 1,000 kisses. You erupted in a giggle, expressing the same sentiments of love.

The reason for your stay was less heartwarming. After you had wrapped up your first year at university, your overbearing and uber religious parents caught wind of some of the stuff you were up to while there. In their words, you were “impulsive”, “wreckless”, and “just plain stupid”. But in all actuality, you had just smoked some weed, got wasted, and hooked up with some girls.

Nothing too crazy considering it was your first year of freedom, but of course they flipped and decided banishing you to your grandparents for the summer would be best. And although you were less than ecstatic about them being angry with you, the resulting consequence left you anticipating the perfect summer. I mean come on… a gorgeous old house, right by the beach, home cooked meals, and no one to bother you. How could you not get excited?

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

Soon, you find yourself strolling along hot sidewalks of the small beach town, wandering into every little place that piques your interest. The first was an antique mall. You ventured through the heaps of knick knacks, furniture, and clothes, finally landing on the sweetest tea cup. It was delicate ivory with a thinly curved handle. Painted on the front; a pair of kittens adorned in pink ribbon. You then stumbled into a 50’s themed sweets shop where you purchased a single cherry flavored lollipop which landed in your mouth as soon as you walked out the door. And finally, you came across a quaint bookshop that was practically begging for you to come inside.

Pushing the old wooden door open you entered, followed by a small melodic bell announcing the new presence. This caught a young individual's attention. Revealing her collection of freckles and short auburn hair, the girl looked up from behind the mahogany counter to greet you. The employee's smile was adorably toothy and the evening sun leaking through the windows made her practically glow. Your eyes remained locked on the girl's face for a little longer than you’d like but it was worth every second.

Candy in hand, you toured the towering shelves of tattered books and baskets of old magazines, not really knowing what you were looking for. And still considerably distracted by the dreamy woman manning the front desk. That is until a loud creak of the floorboards stole you from your reverie and left you face to face with the culprit of these thoughts.

“Hi- uh, did you need help finding anything today?” she questioned, giving you a slow look up and down.

“Hmm I’m not sure yet,” you took a long pause to regain a little sense of decorum, “Got any recommendations for me Ellie?” Her eyes went wide in confusion before you gestured to the silver plate pinned to her shirt, pointing out the obvious. “Your nametag hun.”

“Oh, right” she looked down sheepishly at the pet name, “Ummm let me think…” Her voice trailed off again and you popped the sticky, red lollipop back in your mouth to fidget with as she took a beat to think. After compiling a few books in her mind Ellie opened her mouth to speak but god was it hard. Your intent sucking had her in a trance.

“I think you-you’d probably- like…” Ellie wanted to keep talking, she really did, but your plump lips engulfing the red little ball was extremely distracting. She watched as your spit pooled at the upturned corners of your mouth and coated the hard candy. Every thought she had left her except what her lips would look like wrapped around something else. You took note as her pupils slowly dilated at the simple action and decided to have some fun with the awkward girl who you’d obviously left in a trance.

“Did you want a taste?” Ellie took some hard blinks in disbelief and some reproach, not realizing how conspicuous her stares must have been.

“Uh- like of your…” She pointed and you hummed in confirmation, holding the thin white stick at its base, hovering the candy just inches from her mouth.

“Come onnn, I don’t bite… not unless you want me to.” Ellie’s quick and hot breaths of anticipation tickled the little hairs on your knuckles and you knew exactly what you were doing to her. Eventually she dove into your sweet offer. First with a flat tongue, then her whole mouth closing in on it. The crimson disappeared into her cavity and you twisted at the stick connected, sending an odd sensation across Ellie’s tongue. You quickly snatched it back out and plumpted it back in between your own red stained lips, leaving the girl a flustered mess.

“So what about that book?” you inquired, voice laced with a preformative innocence.

She shook her head to focus, “Uh- right, how about The Bell Jar? Sylvia Plath?”

“That’s actually perfect. It’s been on my list for months now. Which shelf?”

“If you want… I uh, actually have a copy that you can borrow for free.”

“Actually yeah, I’d love that. Thank you.” You gave Ellie a warm smile that sent millions of butterflies through the pits of her stomach, and honestly yours too. She then disappeared to the back with a flash of her green eyes before returning holding a small book bursting with colored tabs.

“Here- I like to annotate,” she chuckled bashfully, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Even better.” Ellie blushed at every word you spoke, sending a nervous hand back to scratch at her neck. “Well, thank you for this. I do have to get home but um- I promise to return it as soon as I’m done.” You shook your clasped hands at her like a praise and departed leaving nothing but a trace of your luscious perfume.

Ellie remained awestruck, replaying that whole scenario back again and saving it for later. Selfishly she wished for you to finish the book in just one night. She couldn't help but miss your pretty face already. And after being the only thing on her mind for the rest of the night, she wasn’t sure how long she could wait to see you again.

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

That evening after Ellie’s shift she retreated to her bedroom with plans to remove you from her thoughts. Controller in hand, she maneuvered through some first person shooter game but lost every round due to her lack of focus. This was frustrating and she went to light some incense hoping to clear her head with a different approach. The brown, bergamot scented stick caught fire before cherrying at the end leaving a trail of smoke behind. Ellie followed it with her eye’s, gaze passing by her window and quickly retreating back as she spotted something out of the ordinary.

The neighbor's familiar window positioned right across from her own was usually shrouded in curtains, hiding the empty bedroom. But today she could see right in, and even better, there was someone just behind the glass. She inched in closer to get a better look and watched as the girl lay on her bed, ass up, feet kicking in the air. Ellie assumed she was talking on the phone from observing her bouts of giggles, but it was hard to tell. Even harder to decipher was who this mystery woman was. Every little mannerism felt oddly familiar and it was driving Ellie crazy. Could you just get off the phone already and turn around?

Yes, you. Who eventually wrapped up the call with your best friend where you had spent 30 minutes gushing about the 5 minute interaction you had with Elllie. “I just have to have her!” you raved through the telephone line, “in fact, I neeeddd her!!”

Night had completely fallen at this point and as so you rolled out of your lying position and peeled off your shirt to change into pjs. You did it right in front of the window too, unknowingly giving Ellie a show.

Next door, the girl's jaw was slack and bottom lip red from her harsh bite. Ellie stared lustfully at your soft seeming skin and gorgeous curves. After getting a better glimpse of your face she knew exactly who you were. And once your top started coming off there was no chance she was looking away now. That is… until she got caught.

As soon as you saw a flash of freckles across the way you dashed to the window almost getting a rug burn from the maneuver. With tits out, (well in a sheer lace bra, so practically out) you slide open the white trimmed aperture and give Ellie the most eager wave, shouting her name along with it. The girl could barely pull herself together as she hesitantly opened up her own window. Was Ellie about to get exiled for being a perv or were you feeling forgiving tonight?

“Ellie?! What the fuck?? Didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon!!” You shouted with excitement like a child on Christmas.

“Hi-” she halted her greeting, “wait, I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, it’s ____”

“S’pretty name… I’m glad to see you again.”

“Oh I bet you are. Saw you watching me change Els.” Really you didn’t mind, but something about teasing her got you off.

“Fuck- no, no. I- I wasn’t trying to, just was getting a better look to see if it was actually you. Please don’t be mad, I really am sorry!” You had left her a stuttering mess.

“No need to say sorry,” with a bat of your eyelashes you eased her worries, “you liked what you saw… right?”

The girl squirmed, “Uhh…”

“It’s okay, you can say yes Ellie.” And she quickly did, making the cockiest smirk grow on your face. But, you weren’t an easy girl and you planned to tantalize Ellie with subtle passes until the both of you could hardly resist. So you quickly retreated, wishing Ellie a good night before sealing the window and swiping the curtains shut.

The girl was left a hot mess after it all but trust and believe she had a good night. One with her hands between her thighs and your newly learned name falling from her lips.

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

The next morning you catch the emerald-eyed girl outside mowing her lawn and take this as the perfect opportunity to play some more mind games.

Slipping into the skimpiest bikini you could find, you scampered into the front yard “to tan”. The green lawn tickled the bottoms of your bare feet before you laid out a red and white striped towel to lounge on. Stomach down, facing towards Ellie, the sun beamed on the expanse of your back. Heart shaped sunglasses hugged your face and shielded your eyes as you admired the pretty girl.

She was dressed in some long cut-off jorts and a black wifebeater tank. A newly lit cigarette hung from her mouth carelessly. You loved the way her pec would flex with each push and pull of the mower. Lines of sweat racing down her arms and neck, illuminating every small vein. And god, when she tilted her head up to exhale a puff of smoke, it drove you wild.

Your presence had not gone unnoticed though and neither had your cherry printed swim bottoms that were riding up your cheeks. Ellie continued mowing the lawn but was essentially butchering it, too busy staring at you out of her peripherals. She continued passing over the same barren spots of grass over and over, trying to get a better look of the angel laying just on the other side of the fence.

She’d pause mid push every time you’d reposition yourself just so she could see the little recoil of fat that was your plush thighs and heart shaped ass. Her cigarette had yet to leave her mouth after the first few exhales and your prompt arrival. A long build up of ash was begging to slip off the end and at this point she was just mowing little nubs. The yard was a patchy mess and so was she. This mess escalated as soon as she saw you marching to the edge of the fence straight towards her.

Approaching Ellie you planted your elbows on two white posts that stopped at your torso. You shouted out to the sweaty girl, waving her in your direction and she immediately scurried over like an obedient puppy.

“Whatcha smoking?” you questioned, causing Ellie to remember the all-ash cigarette, now between her fingers, being rid of its debris.

“Shit, I’m sorry- do you not like the smoke? I can stop, seriously.” She put out the remaining butt frantically in attempts at atonement.

“Lighten up Els, I don’t care if you smoke. I was just gonna ask to bum one off of you, but I only smoke Marlboros. That menthol shit gives me a headache.” She softened in relief, already pulling out a fresh one just for you.

“That’s crazy, I’m the same exact way. Here, it’s all yours” Ellie attempts to put the cigarette in your hand but you part your lips instead, requesting a different placement. She happily fulfills your request and follows with a silver, square shaped lighter. The flame catches at the end as you take a big inhale, blowing it to the side.

“Thanks, you have no idea how much I needed that. I’ve been cold turkey over here at Grams. Couldn’t even sneak a smoke from her either, she swears by Newports. Truly disgusting if you ask me.” You rolled your eyes, rambling on about your stay and Ellie just listened. She tried piecing together your story from the little tidbits you mentioned but still struggled to understand how you ended up here.

“So you’re just staying with your grandparents for the summer?”

“Yeah pretty much.” you answered nonchalantly.

“How come though? I’ve never seen you here until now. Trust me, I would’ve noticed a pretty girl like you.” she blushed.

“Oh yeah? You think I’m pretty?” you taunted, completely ignoring the question at hand. You weren’t sure how ready you were to spill those beans yet. Ellie gave off such an awkward loser vibe that left you questioning how much of you the girl could really handle. I mean, it seemed like you were already too much for your own parents and beginning to piss off the elders too. And speak of the devil, they arrived home just in time to steal you from Ellie’s company.

“Babygirl, what are you doing bothering the neighbors?” your grandma called out, making you turn all hot and embarrassed in front of Ellie. Up until now you had managed to keep up the perfect cool girl vibe. The thought that Ellie might not be enjoying this as much as you perceived had never even crossed your mind. But now that it had, your confidence was knocked down a notch.

“Grams-” You turned to excuse her politely but were cut off before you even got the chance.

“Is that a cigarette young lady?”

“Umm.. yes…” you hesitated before swiftly putting it out on one of the wooden posts.

“Now where did you get a thing like that?” she prodded, arms crossed. Your eyes glanced over to Ellie but you decided to lie, knowing how your grandparents would react. You’d rather get into trouble than risk losing access to your new favorite girl.

“I swear it was just rolling around in one of the dresser drawers upstairs. I shouldn’t have taken it, but I did and I’m really really sorry. Please can we not mention this?”

The old woman took a beat to consider your request, “Fine. But hand it over, I need a smoke, the ladies over at bingo this morning were driving me absolutely crazy.” You passed over the cigarette and thanked her and the heavens for sparing you. If your parents found out about any more wrong doings, you knew you’d be done for good, and deep down you believed that Grams had recognized the same threat.

Just over the fence, Ellie had witnessed the whole thing and was left even more intrigued. All this over a cigarette? Mention what to who? But just as she was exiled out of the conversation, Ellie was quickly brought back in.

“So hun, you seem pretty handy if I’m not mistaken.”

“Uh, yes ma’am I guess I am.” Ellie fidgeted, not sure where this conversation was going. Hoping not to get scorned by the wrath you had brought on from the whole cigarette debacle.

“Well, we’ve got a couple of loose fence posts around the perimeter. I’ve been pleading with my husband to get it done but the old fart can hardly handle walking the block, let alone hard manual labor. You think you could help us out? I’ll give ya 50 bucks for it.” Ellie looked at your grandma, then you, and back to Grams again.

“Sure, but I don’t need your money. I’ll happily do it free of charge.”

“Well mighty me, thank you very much!” your grandma elated, nudging at you to give thanks as well. You smiled at the girl and then mouthed a little sorry, feeling bad for wrapping her up in all of this. She waved you off, not thinking twice about her choice to help out. Anything to get closer to you, right?

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

That evening you stood in the kitchen, occasionally grabbing out a bowl or passing over an ingredient as your grandma fixed dinner. You sipped from a tall, clear glass of lemonade and looked through the window hoping to catch a glimpse of Ellie in action.

Noticing your staring, Grams spoke up, “Why don’t you go bring the girl some lemonade to cool off, yeah? In fact, go on ahead and invite her to dinner since she refuses to be paid. Got to say thank you somehow.” Your heart skipped a beat imagining the beautiful girl sat at the dining table.

It was almost scary, every interaction you’d had so far was just casual flirts in passing. This would be the real deal and on top of it, your grandparents would be right there with you. Very, very scary. But there was no arguing this one, so out you went with an endearing proposal and a freshly poured glass of lemonade, all for Ellie.

“Here, I got this for you. It’s homemade.” You ushered the cup forwards to sweaty Ellie and she gratefully accepted with a thank you. You then awkwardly popped the question.

“Sooo… my grandparents want me to invite you over for dinner. As a thank you.” Ellie looked up from her work again trying to read your tone.

“Do you want me over for dinner?”

“Yeah, yeah of course I do. It’s just, you know how it is with family.” You kicked at some dirt that was loosened by the yard work, voiding Ellie’s gaze. It’s not like you didn’t want to see her but how could you trust your grandparents to keep up the mystery. Flirting felt so easy when all the vulnerable parts of yourself had yet to surface.

“I don’t have to come if you don’t want me to. I’d hate to cause any problems.” You quickly backpedaled, afraid she might take your words the wrong way.

“No, no, not at all. Please. Come. I want you there.”

“Okay, then I will be. Let me finish up out here, take a quick shower, and I’ll be over.”

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

Ellie had taken 30 minutes to come back, making it just in time. 20 of those minutes were spent just rummaging through clothes and messing with her hair, too nervous to think about punctuality. She wanted to look good for you, and even more she wanted to impress your family.

At Ellie’s arrival you opened the door dressed in the shortest little sundress. The pale yellow complimented your skin just perfectly and Ellie wanted to tell you so bad but nerves got the best of her. All she could do was smile and turn 5 different shades of red, matching the rust colored Dickie’s and loose button up shirt that adorned her figure.

“Well, well, well… don’t you clean up nice?” You poked at Ellie’s right arm and she humored you with a shy laugh before putting her head down to shield from embarrassment. Ellie had always been somewhat of a loser but never had she ever met a girl that could leave her this much of a mess with just a few words.

You then led her into the dining room, both of you taking a seat across from Gram and Gramps at the other end of the table.

“We’re so happy we could have you over for supper Ellie. I know we don’t mingle much but your father and you have always been such good neighbors.” Your grandpa gushed as Grams nodded along but there was a slight lull before Ellie actually responded. Maybe the mention of her dad? You weren’t sure.

“Well, thank you for having me. It’s always nice to have some company around here.” There was something regretful in her eyes as she said it but the conversation quickly progressed past the moment, leaving you curious for the rest of the night.

“So how’s school been going for you?” the pair asked.

“It’s been really good. Going into my second year actually.” Ellie answered, putting it simply as she knew this was all formalities and small talk. Even you were beginning to get a little bored with the dry conversation. So you decided to spice things up for the both of you, sliding off your strappy sandals to see how far you could take a game of footsies.

“Oh wow! ____ is too! What’s your major?” Gramps continued. Your bare foot slid over to Ellie’s beat up sneakers waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

“I’m an en-” Her voice cut out as you creeped up the edge of her pants, rubbing on her exposed ankle. She coughed trying to recover, “I’m an engineering major.” You had to bite the inside of your cheek to not let out an audible laugh.

“How wonderful!” Grams enthused, blissfully unaware. Having too much fun, you then slid your hand a chair over to drag down Ellie’s thigh and felt as she tensed up.

The conversation continued at a steady pace and you removed your hand, not wanting to take things too far. Unexpectedly Ellie grabbed it, moving your limb back to its place and keeping her own hand rested on top. A big move considering just minutes ago she couldn’t even muster up the courage to compliment your dress.

You took this as permission to proceed and a simple resting hand turned to a grabby one, gripping at her inner thigh. Teasing the girl to incomparable lengths. She eventually followed in suit, slipping a few fingers under the hem of your dress just slightly before shying away at the dinner's conclusion. And even with such little touch, you were still absolutely soaking.

If only your grandparents knew what was going on under the table.

✄ - - - - part 2 - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡

taglist...

@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy

(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)

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lowkeyrobin · 24 days

Note

Hii!! Is it possible to request a Minho x Reader Angst fic? I don’t have any real ideas for what i just rlly like angst😭

Anyway make sure you’re looking after yourself!!

YES 🙏🙏 I concocted the perfect idea for this so I hope you enjoy! ; thank you for requesting!! ; I wrote like a good chunk of this in geometry and physical science so this is actually kinda good lol ; also this is so damn long for me what the FUCK. ; also a bit of inspo in the end thanks to she by jelly roll...

MINHO ; they

summary ; minho loses you again

warnings ; language, guns & gun violence, explosions/bombs, death, he rips off your wckd jacket & top (not sexual), and a panic attack

disclaimers ; top ten most unneeded deaths in cinema

track ; she, jelly roll (again, not a word)

word count ; 2.5k

masterlist

Minho lost everything he'd been able to remember once he left the Glade, including you.

You were a smart thinker, which confused him as to why you stayed back with Gally and the other skeptics who didn't want to find escape in the maze. He tried so hard to convince you to come, but with such little time, he couldn't.

He'd spent months imprisoned mourning the loss of your presence. He didn't know how to function without you. He wondered where you were all the time, if you were even alive or not. He'd been wishing the best in your fate, in the scorch and back in the hands of WCKD. He missed your dorky smile and infectious laughter, hoping one day he could hear it again, even in the stars that he oh-so-missed gazing with you.

Your name scorched his heart every time it was spoken. Your face was engraved in his brain, to the point every time he thought of or imagined you, he'd fight back tears to stay strong. You were weaponized against him, being used to create false memories and episodes to help them find a cure.

Every time he'd wake up from a real dream where you were present, he'd end up in tears, to then have to cradle himself back to sleep. He'd been confined like this for months, then another few days before the bust. It was so, so much worse in the Last City, he'd rather have died in some horrific train crash then have missed his chance at freedom.

However, you survived. Gally did, too, though, even after Minho pierced his chest with a spear.

You'd joined some revolution gang together, learning to use guns and join the ranks. You'd been given bulletproof vests once you proved your worth, officially becoming part of the team.

Reuniting with Thomas, Fry, and Newt was a story in itself, but knowing, or at least hoping, that you'd see Minho again made your heart race in your chest. Gally took Thomas and Newt out to explore the perimeter of the city, letting you reconnect and catch up with Fry and get to know Brenda and her father figure Jorge.

Brenda grew fond of you quickly, liking your badassery and passion to overthrow WCKD. She knew you weren't into trying to kill innocents and understood that you wanted bullets in Janson's and Paige's heads, and you were willing to do it for free.

You showed her and Fry how to use the electro-guns, two you'd stolen from WCKD guards that defended the city walls. They're good for torture, but it was never your taste of tea, you left the others to do the sick shit. You wanted your friends back, you didn't even know they'd been free up til earlier today.

Once the trio came back, they set up a plan that you and Gally jumped in on to deflect and suggest ideas. It was set for tomorrow night, and you didn't know how to process it. You try not to think of Minho the rest of the night, which you awfully fail at, as you'd fallen asleep thinking of him.

You play out your role over and over again, overthinking every single detail down to the grade of gun you'd have strapped to your side. Gally, now your close friend after all this time together, could see your nervousness and anticipation.

"You okay?" He asks, leaning on the railing to your shared bunk bed. You slept on the bottom, him on the top.

You nod, arms sprawled over the top of your pillow, basically holding it like it was going anywhere. "I'm good. Nervous"

He nods, "It'll be alright, we're gonna get him back"

You'd stolen WCKD gaurd suits, your first priority. You and Gally walk around the perimeter of the building post getting the kids on the bus. Your masks are up to avoid any real guards noticing that you're fakes. He holds his bulky gun across his chest, while yours is angled with the safety on across your back. A hand rests over the pistol on your side.

You can feel your heart pounding behind your ribcage, the anticipation of seeing Minho and taking down WCKD killing you. Gally pats your shoulder for reassurance and nods forward silently, wanting to pick up the pace.

You notice explosions in the distance, firey flames illuminating the sky.

As you walk under the main area, you notice a fire extinguisher land in the modern pool, splashing water into the air as it sinks to the bottom. You hear yells, then three bodies plop into the pool. You and three other guards behind you run to the scene, while you and Gally lag behind, knowing who just showed up.

Thomas, Newt, and Minho rise out of the water, floating over to the side after Thomas sends Janson, standing in the bay of the window, maybe twenty stories high, a middle finger. They wade over to the edge and pull themselves out, guards hold them at gunpoint, leaving their faces shaken and in despair.

Gally acts first, shoving one of the guards into the pool, then you pistol whip the one on your right, and you together knock out the last guy. The boys stare at you two, confused as to why two guards had apparently saved them, their questions are quickly answered as Gally rips his mask off.

"Hey"

"Oh, you bloody genius!"

"Oh, shit"

"What the hell?" Minho mutters.

Laying your eyes on him again, even though that mask, it brought you nearly to tears. Seeing his eyes, so tired, his body clearly so weak from the mental and physical stress, your heart broke for him. You make sure your handheld gun had the safety on before tucking it away properly.

"Long story" Gally replies to Minho, knowing what he was thinking.

Minho, still in genuine shock, adrenaline coursing through his veins, looks to you, wondering if you were maybe Brenda or Fry. You bite the inside of your cheek before pulling your mask off, softly smiling at Minho.

Newt and Thomas smile, Newt much more weak, as he was beginning to crank out.

"Y/n?" He questions in disbelief. "How- am I dreaming again?"

You quickly pound the boy into a hug, the moisture from his body rubbing off onto your red and grey outfit. The mask lays on the concrete, where Gally kicks it into the water, same with his.

You hear him begin to sob, holding onto you so tightly in fear you'd disappear like all the times before. You rub his back with your dominant hand, which trails up his spine toward his nape.

"I thought you were dead" He cries, "They've been using you in those simulations-"

"It's okay." You softly speak, "We have to go, you can tell me all about it later"

He nods, eyes still widened in shock and confusion as you follow the other three as they quickly flee the scene.

You take cover by some bushes, leaving Newt on the side to rip his jacket off as he sweats profusely. The veins in his neck were bulging out of his skin, colored a matte black.

You couldn't help but stare, unable to listen to the others talk. You quickly rush to his aid, wanting to help him be the most comfortable he possibly could be.

You crouch down next to him, giving him some reassuring words that he'd be okay. You help him to his feet, where Minho is at your side.

Gally and Thomas lead the way as another explosion rings through the air near you. You duck your head as some loose shrapnel lightly hits your skin, thankfully not enough force given to puncture your face.

The explosions only become worse as you run through a little diner, having no alternate route around as the city was being blown to smithereens.

"God damnit, we said blow up the entrance, not the whole damn city"

Newt falls to the ground, too weak to walk as black ooze drips from his lips. Glass explodes behind you, in which you quickly shove Minho to the ground in front of you to protect him. You cover your head, letting the glass shards hit your protected back.

He gasps for air for a moment as Thomas and Gally prop him up against a safe wall, trying to talk to him. You and Minho follow suit, making a quick plan to go get the temporary cure from Brenda and Jorge, and run back to give it to Newt.

"Stay strong for me, okay?" Minho speaks, his hands on the blonde's shoulders.

He nods, his eyes clearly lost in a daze, his vision blurry and wobbly.

Minho pats his shoulder before standing up, letting you give him a nod of reassurance. You and Gally follow Minho, weapons drawn to protect him as he leads with his quick sprinting skills.

You three get one last look at Newt and Thomas before fleeing, working your way through the maze of buildings and explosions to get to your friends. Gally shoots a guard at his side while you do the same at about a 10'o'clock radius.

"This way!"

You follow Minho, the explosions so loud that they defeaned gunshots. The battery on your stolen WCKD gun runs out, and you toss it to the side, resorting to using your pistol to defend your friends. Another bomb nearly knocks you off your feet, causing you to stumble into Minho.

"Sorry!" You shout over the noise.

"You okay?" He shouts back, helping you balance on your feet again.

"Yeah!" You quickly reply, nodding forward for him to continue running to get the cure.

You make it down to the Berg, where Fry, Brenda and Jorge await your arrival.

"The cure!"

"We can't leave him here like this"

"We can't take him back-"

"We have to, please"

"It's too dangerous, we won't make it back to the Berg in time, or we'll get blown up carrying him!"

You stand at Minho's side, looking down at the blonde haired boy as he stands up. He wipes the tears from his eyes, looking at you.

"We have to leave him, Minho"

He nods, slowly placing the cure in Newt's cold hand. He takes one last look at him before turning away, waiting for anyone to speak and give orders.

Brenda speaks up again, deciding to get back to the Berg as fast as possible. You all follow her, guns out, ready to shoot whoever you had to at this point.

Minho turns to you as you run side by side, "Why are you here? Why are you putting yourself in the face of danger? To save me or something?"

You give him a little head tilt to act as a shrug, "You called"

"What?"

You shake your head, deciding to explain it once you were in the hands of safety. An explosion, which cause the ground to rumble beneath you, knocks you all off your feet and onto the hard concrete.

You all groan in pain, having fallen all over each other. Brenda had fallen onto Fry, and they both stumble to the side, apologizing to one another profusely. You'd fallen onto Minho, of course, and help him back to his feet.

You feel lightheaded, your face growing cold, odd for the amount of heat and fire and running around you'd been doing. You lean onto the boy, feeling woozy, as maybe you'd stood up to fast.

Then you fall to your knees, some invisible force knocking you down, your cargo pants ripping at the knees from the impact.

"Y/n!" You hear Minho shout, his voice echoey in your ears.

You hear three gunshots coming from each Fry, Gally, and Brenda. You look back, seeing a WCKD guard fall on their back after taking three shots to the head and chest. Minho's hands rest on your shoulder and on your cheek as he calls your name, asking if you're okay. You see his eyes glance down, where he quickly looks back up to not scare you.

You stand up, numb to any pain. He follows, making sure you're able to keep balance on your feet. He quickly rips off the bulletproof vest for you and your jacket, revealing the wound right under your collar bone.

You look down at it, then look back up at him, eyebrows furrowed. You look to the other three, eyes widened in shock and fear. Another explosion pops a few hundred yards away, shaking the ground again, though not enough to knock you all down once more.

Minho quickly shouts for anything he can use to keep pressure on the wound. He held his hand over it, as the bleeding was horrible at the moment. His hands are covered in your blood, considering the bullet that shot you went clear through you. You notice the bullet a few feet away, light flickering off of it as it rolls into the street where multiple bloody bodies lay.

Minho rips a piece of his shirt and stuffs it into the exit wound, ordering you to hold it there. He pulls you along as you continue running through the city. Your left arm rests over Minho's shoulders, not wanting to upset your other side. Considering moving, it would only agitate it more, and you were trying to keep pressure on the wound anyway.

As you reach the final yards to reach the Berg where Jorge and Vince wait, you collapse to your knees again, landing face first in the debris covered concrete. Minho falls with you, your weight having dragged him down. He tries to pull you up but notices the pool of blood forming around you. A thin, but large pool.

He calls your name over and over, then flips you on your back, where blood sputters out of your mouth. He quickly pulls you up, your back now held up by Brenda and Fry, who were quick to turn back. Gally crouches down on one knee and slowly removes the cloth from the wound, absolutely drenched in crimson.

"No, no, no, no. Not now! Y/n, get up, please," He pleads, watching Vince and Jorge rush to your aid. "They were shot by a gaurd, went clean through, there's so much blood-"

You reach your hand out to Minho as the men pick you up off the ground, where you stumble to walk with them. They practically carry you on their shoulders to the Berg.

Another explosion knocks you all to the ground again, leaving bruises on faces, arms, and legs as you're pounded onto the ground. You'd be lucky enough not to get AIDS at this point.

Minho stumbles to his feet, rushing to you as the men pick themselves up before you.

He notices blood spewing from the other side of your chest. He rips the extra layers of clothing off your torso, tossing your pistol to the side as well. Gally looks around, finger on the trigger of his gun, looking for a shooter.

"Stray bullet!" Brenda shouts, "Get them in there! Go! Thomas needs us!"

Minho places his hands under your arms and drags you into the Berg himself, all the children right in view of your slumped body. You choke on blood and air, feeling your face grow cold and pale. The liquid trails up into the aircraft, staining the hard metal red for the time being.

Vince jumps into the driver's seat, ordering the others to help you and how to before it's too late. Brenda stands next to him, trying to get any info out of Thomas through the walkies.

You wrap your arms around Minho, feeling the pain in your chest now as you grunt and cry. You squeeze onto the back of his shirt, the pain causing you to claw your fingers into him. He holds you, his heart breaking in two as you struggle to breathe.

The placement, it wasn't possible to keep you this time. It wasn't possible to keep you and be free in any situation, in any timeline, in any universe.

"I don't wanna say goodbye"

He sits on the beach every morning, talking to the sunrise as if you were there next to him. He didn't mind the sand that would pile up in his boots or the dusty grain that would stick to his hydrophoric hands all damn day if it weren't for the water there to wash it away.

His fingers traced over your name on the rock when he felt lonely, like you were magically there, hugging him again.

He'd never know for sure what you meant when you said that he called. He understood that you definitely didn't hear him call for you after awakening after nightmares, but maybe you did, he wouldn't have known. He guessed in a metaphorical sense, he did call for you, which you both knew, but it still confused him somehow. He wanted you to explain it all so he'd understand, like how you always did.

He regretted never being able to rant about all his feelings to you. He wished he had time to tell you about all he went through so you could reassure him that you'd protect him forever. You'd protect him from the nightmares and the scars, the mental baggage that would weigh him down forever.

He started crying himself to sleep after he began to forget your face.

He just wanted another hug, but your face was beginning to blur out. It sent him into a panic attack right there. No one was there to help him as he cried and clawed into the dirt, trying to ground himself again. He couldn't believe himself, he treasured you so much yet he was forgetting your face after merely a year after your dissapearance?

It didn't help that after a while, he began to forget your voice too, that hurt even more. He'd been forced to talk about his feelings to Thomas like a parent-child conference. He wasn't himself anymore.

His eyes were always swollen, eyebags dark and weighing his happiness down. He was depressed. Every smile he showed was just him trying to make his way through another day's work, distracting himself from the fact that he lost you, for good this time, he watched it.

He wrote letters to you with no address to send to. It didn't help whatsoever that he himself pushed you out into the sea once Thomas regained consciousness so he could say farewell. He watched it all, he knew you were gone this time. At least he had some sense of closure.

He had nothing left of you other than that WCKD jacket you wore, that haunted him as he slept. He only kept it because even with the logo of the corporation that tortured him for years and past the bullet holes in it, it provided him a little comfort that you were still there.

He found that telling stories of you to the younger kids helped.

"They were like the life of the party, bright smile, infectious laughter. They were the one everyone wanted to be around. You could see the sunrise in their eyes."

"Who were they to you?" One little girl asks.

"I don't really know" Minho shrugs, looking down at his hands for a moment.

"Where are they now?" A little boy asks, tilting his head.

"They're in the sky, they have been. They're stuck there. I hope I see them again" He replies with a little nod, looking up at the sun beginning to set up on the island.

"Why are they stuck in the sky?"

"They're afraid of coming down"

#lowkeyrobin #minho tmr x reader #tmr minho x reader #tmr minho #minho tmr #the maze runner x reader #maze runner x gn reader #maze runner x reader #maze runner oneshot #the maze runner #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader

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gatorlovebot · 8 months

Text

find my king simon masterlist here and read from the beginning. also thank you to @alwaysshallow for the inspo for a scene, you'll know <3

the travel was long, just like the secretary had warned, but the day was surely worth it. the train station was bathed in golden moonlight as it snowed soft, white flakes. you marveled at the whimsy of it all, the train station was quiet at this time of night, it just seemed so idyllic. as simon’s men unloaded all the luggage from the train cars, you took a moment to just take in the beauty around you.

“your highness?” the secretary questioned, noticing the king staring off after exiting the train car.

“yea’,” the king grunted, barely paying attention, eyes still focused out in the distance.

the secretary thought the king was taking in the scenery, the snow that was falling. snow hadn’t fallen yet back at the kingdom. “beautiful view, ay?”

the moonlight illuminated your features wonderfully, highlighting all of his favorite parts of you. your eyes looked tired from the long day, but your features were still so soft in the light. “yea’.”

you don’t expect much from this trip, you and simon are constantly surrounded by people, going from one place to another. the days are long and dreadfully boring, the only upside for you is the beauty of this new city. it makes you long for freedom. in all of your years of serving the king you had never felt trapped before, but unlike now, you felt like you had simon to lean on back then. now, not so much.

you began to resent your’s and the king packed schedule within the first few days of the trip, early mornings spent getting the king ready for breakfast with some politicians, and long, drawn out dinners with diplomats. you had no time to yourself, falling into bed immediately after being dismissed from simon’s quarters for rest. you and the king didn’t have much alone time either.

you had presented a challenge to him just days before your departure and you weren’t surprised that he had spent the last few days withdrawn from you. albeit frustrating, it was not an outright bad sign. you knew and understood that simon had difficulty knowing and expressing his feelings, and even though your patience was running thin with him, you didn’t want to give up on him completely. that bastard would always have a little piece of your heart reserved just for him no matter what he did.

your only reprieve of the trip came during your last full day, a diplomat having to cancel his post lunch meeting with simon last minute. simon’s secretary broke the news while you and the king were in the middle of a near silent lunch. you both had an early morning, the silence wasn't unwelcome.

“-now you have a few hours to yourself, your highness.” the secretary explained.

simon set down his fork, not even looking up at the secretary, instead fixing his gaze towards you, across the table from him. “would you like to take a walk with me? explore the city for a bit?” he requested.

it would be your first time being alone this entire trip, and even with your contentious moments the past few days, you don’t hesitate to say yes. you needed a break from meetings and meals with important people who barely even gave you a glance. and as much as you were conflicted about your feelings towards simon, you missed spending time alone with him.

you find a park not too far from the inn you're staying at and bundle up in heavy wools and scarves. luckily, it wasn’t snowing that day but the air was cool and crisp, making you tuck your nose into you heavy scarf. simon nudged you with his elbow as you two made your way towards the entrance of the park, you loop your arm through his easily, feeling his natural warmth through all of your layers.

you two are quiet for a while, just taking in the sights and sounds of the foreign city. no matter how much tension brewed between you two, how many sharp words you flung at each other, your time together never felt awkward. you could always lean on each other, no matter the circumstances. it was one of the reasons that made you think it might actually be love.

“how did you like it ‘ere?” simon broke the silence.

although you were starting to miss the familiar walls of the castle, you had to admit you were sad you were leaving this place tomorrow. it was new and different, a change you felt like you needed, but you barely got to experience any of it. “wish we had more time.” was all that you could say.

“yea’,” he agrees, thinking for a moment, “maybe we’ll come back in the spring, in time to see the flowers bloom.”

he says it so casually, yet full of conviction, we’ll come back. we we we. “we’ll come back?” you find yourself having to clarify.

“yea’,” he confirms, his footsteps coming to a halt. he looks down at you with a humorous smirk on his face, “think we deserve a bit of a vacation.”

your lips tugged up into a smile, feeling a familiar sense of fondness in your chest for the man stood beside you. but something nags at the back of your mind, spring? it was barely even november and he wanted to wait until the spring for a vacation. “why such a long wait?”

he seems caught off guard at your question, his eyebrows raising and his mouth opening without any sound coming out at first. good, you think. “well,” he starts, “you know how tightly my schedule is written, we both know there won’t be a substantial opening for months. there’s so much to do between now and then.

what you both know is that simon doesn’t know his own schedule, simon barely knows what he’s doing tomorrow. he leaves all the schedule stuff to you, you know what he’s doing on a daily basis. simon has never cared about sticking to his schedule, canceling plans and events he didn’t feel like going to just because he can. his old secretary used to scold you for allowing the king to get away with such childish antics, but it just meant you and the king got to spend more time together away from others.

how was he to know what was planned for him in the upcoming months? even if he did know, you would have liked to think that he would cancel whatever plans were stopping the two of you from getting away from the castle and your duties. as you to resume walking down the chilly path side by side you realize just how long you’ve spent waiting for him. waiting for him to change, waiting for things to be different. you had finally grown tired of waiting.

#gator.writing #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost headcanons #simon riley imagine #cod ghost #king simon

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simmerianne93 · 7 months

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[Simmerianne93]Simblreen2023_08_V1

Hello there!!! How are you today??

Now we are moving into the dark, cause a vampire is waiting for us...

Here you have the 8th posepack from my simblreen 2023, we are almost done with all the gifts.

I took a little bit of inspo this time from The Vampire Diaries, even tho I had the idea before, I formed it better after I saw some videos from my lovely Damon Salvatore.

I wanted to make some poses where the vampire is just there and a "victim" appears, he look at her and decide to compell her to stay calm with a little charm to drink from her without her running away. I decided to add more poses with him giving her his blood to regain strength and compell her againg this time to make her count to 10 before come back to counciousness forgetting everything that happened before.

This posepack has two versions, this is version one (V1), where you'll have more freedom to place the sims in the lot. There are some solo poses and some duo poses. I'll post V2 right away to explain the diferences but both versions have the same poses. The changes are in the amount of teleporters you have to place. Use what you like the most.

Download V2 here.

I hope you like them.

Here you have the posepack description:

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What is on it?

11 Solo poses (4 Made with a modified male sim and 7 made with a female rig) + 9 Duo poses (Made with a modified male rig and a female rig) + 2 All in one.

What do you need?

Andrew's poses player

Teleport any sim by Scumbumbo or Mccc by deaderpool.

acc_iphone11_R_necklace(byMoc)

Instructions on the original post.

——

TOU

Do not claim my creations as your own.

Do not re-upload or modify my creations.

Do not make money of my creations.

Do not include my creations in Mods folders to download.

Please follow my Term Of Use.

——

⬇⬇⬇

Download it now here --- AS ALL MY SIMBLREEN GIFTS, THESE POSES ARE FREE FOR EVERYONE.

⬆⬆⬆

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If you want to support me: Patreon | Ko-fi

For more poses: Pinterest | Wix

My socials: Twitter | Instagram | BlueSky

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I really hope you like them and I will say on advance: Thank you so much for use them.

@ts4-poses

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infernalodie · 11 months

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𝟕 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 || 𝐄𝐦𝐦𝐚 𝐌𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬

“𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘞𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘚𝘰, 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐’𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵?“

Inspo: Dominic Fike - 7 Hours

Pairing: Emma Myers x Black!Male!reader

Summary: Not seeing her was like life or death, but why did she not match that energy?

Warnings: Angst, but plentiful fluff and small mention of smut.

Words: 2268

This tedious cycle had to unravel sooner or later.

This 7-hour drive you would make weekly was playing a dangerous game in the realm of unconditional love. At the start, the conditions were understandable as to why you had to make this trip. But as it was, Emma had no work. Yet, she still insisted on you driving all the way here. Leaving you grasping for quarters, hoping to scrounge up enough cash to get back home.

“But it's because of love, Y/n.”

You might’ve agreed with that a few months ago when you got to see her. But you could see the distancing was getting to a point of complete disconnect. And you could accept that if she simply just said so. But she stayed quiet. Requesting you be back in New York next weekend before leaving you to drive home alone. No kiss, no hug, no little romantic gesture to encourage your continuous trips.

Maybe you were in love and this was just you trying to give her the hint. Shameless about how much money you’ve blown on her despite the non-reciprocated actions in return. And it wasn’t like the two of you were dating and she was treating you like a hookup. Because that’s not what you were. She was the one that offered the prospect of you two being exclusive and not search for others. You took her up on it because you genuinely like her for who she was. But in recent memory, it felt like the brand the both of you wore was becoming more meaningless each week you visited.

And even now, sitting in this club in downtown New York, she had yet to text or call. In some way, you could understand that she was busy. But you also knew she’d let you if she was cast in something and the days she would fly you out to come to see her. This was the system, but she seemed to be abandoning it the longer time went by. And you really fucking hoped you hadn’t just wasted hundreds of dollars because she no longer felt the thrill.

“She call back yet?” You turned your head to the bartender, Kelly, who you’d met many times from your numerous trips out here.

Kelly had no information as to who you were seeing. You left it ambiguous with only distinct details about Emma being given so the bartender could put an image of the mystery girl. But her company was well appreciated when you had to kill time between arriving and the invitation from Emma. If anything, Kelly’s company was comforting. A safe haven amongst the chaos that went on around your relationship with an actress.

You pursed your lips, lifting your phone and displaying the blank screen. She exhaled heavily, continuing to dry the glass in her hand. But you dropped your phone with a thud, taking another sip of your water. “I know you never ask for my opinion, but I don’t think she deserves you if she leaves you like this every time you drive out here,” Kelly commented. “If I was dating you, I would be taking you everywhere I could in hopes it showed I was just as committed to the relationship as you are. But I think you need to take a look and reconsider the unconditional freedom you have opened up.”

Some section inside of you wanted to just dismiss Kelly’s statement. Label it as “ignorance” and keep acting as if there wasn’t anything wrong. But you knew she was right. Although her words were very simply dumbed down to “break up with her.” It just wasn’t that simple. Especially after all the time you’ve invested in Emma and all the money you’ve spent because of her. Then again, maybe you were just stupid and walking blindly into something that would end up destroying you emotionally and financially.

Placing your hands in your lap clasped together, you shook your head with a certain uncertainty that could be masked by the hesitant smile that played on your face. Chest swelling with confliction that you tried to suppress. “I-I don’t know if that’s the-”

“Oh, God,” she groaned. “You are so in love that you can’t see she’s kinda being a bitch in this situation.” Kelly laughed, shaking her head. She placed the glass with the cloth and braced her hands along the edge of the bar. The look in her eye was a pity. Almost like you were some sort of puppy left out in the rain with nowhere to call home. It was embarrassing.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you felt your phone vibrate. Seeing the text message from that all too familiar caller I.D. Kelly noticed, raising a brow as you grabbed the phone and shoved it in your pocket and stood to your feet.

Licking your bottom lip, you took one last sip of the water before pushing the glass toward the woman who promptly took it with ease. “Do people ever actually come to you about their problems?” You asked, pulling out your wallet and a bill which you placed onto the bar.

Kelly took it, smiling teasingly. “No, because I give them what they don’t want to hear. And from every drunk guy that has told me their problems, you need it the most,” she stated confidently. “So, fix your problem or don’t. I’ll be here for the rest of the night.”

Exiting the club, you made your way across the street. Shamelessly jaywalking simply because at 4 o’clock AM, no one that was sober could be spotted. Slipping inside your car, you pulled out your phone and looked down at the text and felt that familiar bubbling euphoria.

It rushed through the nerves and muscles. Like your limbs were tensing up with that shiver that rolled through in one foul wave. Something about it was distasteful and could only be associated with discomfort. But the muscles in your cheek pulled your lips into a smile every single damn time you saw her name appear.

“I’m waiting for you.”

Arriving at the apartment, you took the main route you were always told to. Through the back door, up the stairs to floor 3, stop at the elevator and take that to the tenth floor before you walked down the hall to Emma’s room. It was a simple formula that you followed because you knew her fear of you being discovered as her boyfriend. It would bring unwanted attention to both of you and neither of you wanted that when this was the only time the two of you got to enjoy away from reality.

Your knuckles met with the wooden door sharply, announcing your arrival.

The sound of footsteps could be heard muffled behind the door before the door unlocked and swung open. Revealing Emma in a black dress with her shoulder-length hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. A slit in the dress showed her pale right leg that left you inhaling deeply.

It was a new look, that was for sure. Usually, she was wearing something that took no time to get out of. Because, at the end of the day, this was a time for both of you to relieve stress. A chance to make up for lost time during the week when texts or phone calls didn’t help relieve the tension.

So, this look was for sure new.

“I thought you were going to wear something nice.” Emma turned around, walking away. Leaving you to close the door and kick off your shoes with a scoff.

“Well, if I was supposed to, I wasn’t informed,” you stated. Entering the living, you found Emma gathering her tiny little things and stuffing them in her purse. You sighed, collapsing on the couch as she disappeared into her bedroom. “Was your agent supposed to call or email me? I don’t know because there is barely any communication going on, Emma.”

“The last thing I need tonight is you being a smartass, all right?” She stepped out of her bedroom with a jacket now in her grasp. Placing it on the island and grabbing her phone, sending a quick text. She didn’t even seem present or aware of the underlying problem going on between the two of you.

And maybe you were being too lenient with her because she was an actress. She shared the screen with Jenna Ortega, someone you’d met. Her performance on Wednesday immediately shot her into the spotlight. There was no changing that and you could understand that her giving you time would be varied at times. But you knew her schedule. She told you everything so you could plan your trips to see her for a single night. There was no filming coming up that was on her timeline that could interfere with any of your guys’ time. So, her lack of energy with anything involving you was disheartening, to say the least.

“I’m stating the obvious, Em.” You sat up on the couch, hands clasping together. “You’re here one second then when I leave, I get nothing from you.” You laughed, leaning back into the cushioning. Its bland fabric smell invades your senses as you waved toward her. “Even when we do talk, the only substance is for one of us to cum and then we wait for the weekend.”

She sighed, tossing her phone onto the island. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, Y/n,” she deflected. “I just want to go to this diner and then we can spend the night here. So, get up and let’s get going-”

“C’mere.” Emma looked at you in question, raising a brow. You smiled, waving her over encouragingly.

It was annoying. How could you smile immediately after you showed a clear aggravation? Your resilience was a shining factor that Emma liked. Despite the fact that she demanded so much from you, somehow, you showed out. But it was also so damn annoying seeing that smile of yours when she was already feeling some sort of anger bubbling in her gut. “If we want to go out for dinner, we need to leave now-”

You groaned loudly, childishly, which silenced her abruptly. “Just c’mere, Em.”

The girl bit her bottom lip, looking at the door and then back at you. Compilation written over her expression before she exhaled heavily. She made her way over, heels clicking against the hardwood floors of her apartment.

She took the hand you held out for her, standing between your legs. Your hold was gentle despite how calloused your hands were. The roughness of it somehow comforted her. Because despite the static, she could always find safety in your faint friction.

And the flood of thoughts could be seen in your eyes, and she was the source of this trouble. She knew why and she didn’t like that she was the cause of this frustration in you. “If you’re never gonna make the initiative to see me, then at least treat me like I mean something to you,” you said. “Because you have 100 percent of me, but I don’t think that I get that from you.”

A harsh statement that had Emma holding her breath. Fingers freezing around the tiny thread she toyed with. But when she lowered her gaze, you promptly angled your head to keep it. “I don’t expect you to spend day in and day out with me on your mind but I can’t continue doing this if you aren’t going to give me a reason to keep going like this.”

Emma pursed her lips, blinking rapidly. There was something warm, yet, uncomfortable that filled the air. Something made her face flush forming tears to the brim in her eyes as the tip of her nose grew hot. Only further producing tears to roll down her cheeks.

You stared up at her sadly but full of understanding. “Don’t tell me everything, but give me something. If I drove 7 hours for nothing intimate, give me something to leave with.”

You rubbed soothing circles into her thighs. Further comforting her despite the clear tenseness in the air. “I’m scared you’ll leave,” she confessed shakily. “That’s why I keep my distance and don’t come to see you. It saves me the chance of getting too attached.”

That made you sigh, gently pulling the girl down so she was pressed against your chest. Face hidden in your neck with her warm tears wetting your shirt. “I just don’t want everything around me to become too much for you,” she wept, fingers curling handfuls of your shirt. “I care too much about you. I can’t imagine myself without you.”

A smile wanted to form just because that was all you wanted to hear–to know you meant something more than a fuck. But her body quivering and racking with soft cries made you stay present with her. Rubbing her back softly as you said, “You shouldn’t ever think about that. If you think it’s because of the press that surrounds you, I could care less. Those fuckers are the least of my worries.” you whispered softly into her hair. “I’m actually more scared of not being around because I think it might end up with you coming to kill me or something.”

Emma laughed softly, sniffling with her face retracting from your neck, quickly wiping her eyes. You leaned forward, holding her cheeks gently and smiling. Pressing a kiss on her forehead and saying, “I’m always going to be here, baby. Just treat me like I’m worth it.”

#emma myers imagine #emma myers fanfiction #emma myers x black!reader #emma myers x black reader #emma myers angst #emma myers fluff #emma myers x black!male!reader #emma myers x black male reader #emma myers #emma myers x reader #x black reader #x black!reader #x black!male!reader #x black male reader #x poc reader #poc reader #x reader

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astrojulia · 1 year

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Navigation: Masterlist✦Ask Rules✦PSD✦INSPO

Askbox✦Template✦Paid Readings

Relaxed and self-directed: Geminis do things on their own time and don't get stressed about sticking to a rigid schedule. They prefer to do things their own way and don't worry about conforming to other people's agendas.

Strategic thinkers: When Geminis are quiet, they are usually planning their next move. They have a tendency to counterattack, and if they feel wronged or challenged, they will strategize on how to develop an offense. If they can't let it go, they may ruminate until they come up with a resolution.

Thrive in action-packed environments: They enjoy places that are bustling and vibrant, offering a variety of things to see and do. They don't like sitting still for too long and prefer environments that provide constant stimulation and activity.

Quick-minded and intellectually curious: They have agile minds and dislike being in situations that lack mental stimulation. They have a natural curiosity and a thirst for knowledge. If something no longer interests them, they have no qualms about moving on to something new that captures their attention.

Value their freedom: They cherish their independence and need space in all types of relationships. They dislike feeling tied down or restricted by commitments and prefer to have the freedom to explore different paths and experiences.

Observant and empathetic: They have a keen sense of observation and can discern the emotions and characteristics of others. They possess a natural instinct for understanding people and can sense when something is happening around them.

Interested in human relationships and current affairs: Geminis are drawn to subjects that involve practical aspects of life rather than purely theoretical concepts. They enjoy discussing human relationships, current events, and expressing poetic visions.

Skilled at charming others: They have a knack for winning people over by engaging in conversations about each other's lives. They create a light and enjoyable atmosphere, which can make others feel captivated and seduced by their charisma.

Avoid negative energy: They actively avoid spending time with individuals who constantly complain or have a negative outlook on life. They prefer to be surrounded by people with vibrant energy and enjoy engaging in conversations that uplift and inspire.

Socially approachable: They emit an approachable energy that naturally draws people to them. Even on quieter days, they often find themselves approached by others. No matter where they are, if they stay in a place for at least an hour, they are likely to strike up a conversation with someone.

Spiritually curious: They have a deep admiration for and interest in various spiritual practices. They are open to exploring different spiritual paths and are often drawn to learn about rituals, crystals, and other metaphysical aspects. As a suggestion, they could try palmistry to further expand their spiritual knowledge.

Motivators and supporters: They genuinely care about people and have a profound respect for the human experience. When they see someone in need, they offer words of encouragement and guidance, speaking to what the other person truly needs to hear, even if it may not be what they want to hear. Their motivation stems from a desire to uplift and support others.

Slow to forgive: They have a hard time forgiving those who betray their trust or speak ill of them behind their back. They know how to navigate life as if they've never met the person, and forgiveness does not come easily to them.

Love for adventures and novelty: They are always seeking new experiences and thrills. Whether it's trying out the newest roller coaster or exploring a newly opened Chinese restaurant, they are eager to embrace the next adventure that comes their way.

Reserved about personal matters: They can be discreet when it comes to sharing details about themselves. They tend to hold back and only open up once they have resolved their own internal conflicts. While they speak positively about the lives of others, they may have their own inner complexities to navigate.

Desire for deep connections: They are drawn to developing meaningful relationships with others. They seek to deepen their bonds rather than constantly seeking new romantic partners. After a relationship ends, they often take time to heal and reflect before fully reengaging in the dating scene.

Sarcastic sense of humor: They often use self-deprecating humor to bring laughter and joy to others. They have a knack for sarcasm, but this can sometimes lead to challenges, as not everyone appreciates their lighthearted and witty approach.

Adaptability to change: They embrace change and find stimulation in new experiences. They don't get overly attached to specific work or living environments and are open to moving, rearranging their living space, or seeking new perspectives to keep their minds engaged.

The life of the party: They are known for their outgoing and fun-loving personalities. They don't easily feel embarrassed and enjoy making jokes and dancing to lift the spirits of the group. They excel at creating a lively and vibrant atmosphere, allowing others to feel more relaxed and free in their company.

(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved

#astrojulia #astrology #witchblr #astroblr #all about astrology #astro community #astro observations #astrology notes #witch community #astrology basics #gemini #gemini sun #gemini moon #gemini rising #gemini stellium

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angelic-waffles · 2 days

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So I fully thought I posted this yesterday, turns out I did not. I also tried to post it this morning and failed completely. So uh, with much frustration- Nina the Killer and Ben Drowned. Design info and closeup under cut

So first things first, Nina’s age was an issue. Her story says she’s 11 then says she’s 17 so… I made her 14. Happy medium. Anyways I wanted to make her look straight out of hot topic in 2006 because I feel like that’s her vibe. As for her scaring, I love experimenting with scaring in art, so she has some burns and cuts on her face and body ^^ also why her face is a lighter color. Additionally she’s in the same pose as Jeff because I wanted to show her attempts to emulate him.

Ben’s age was thankfully a lot easier. In the story Ben died when he was 12, so, he’s 12. Easy as pie. I didn’t have much freedom over design because… well he’s basically corrupted Link. But I took a little inspo from the sims. STAY WITH ME ON THAT I PROMISE IT MAKES SENSE. In the sims, sims that died of drowning are always dripping water, and are soaked I tried to do this on Ben, hope it translated well! I also made his skin a bit purple and discolored and pale to really give that “I died of drowning” effect.

And hey, you made it this far so if there’s any other creepypasta characters you want me to draw, tell me and I probably will :)

#art #my art #drawing #illustration #artists of tumblr #artists on tumblr #fanart #Nina the killer fanart #Nina the killer #nina hopkins fanart #nina hopkins #ben drowned fanart #ben drowned #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta fanart #creepypasta #crp #crp fandom #crp fanart

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rosanna-writer · 4 months

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we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (18/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~5k

Content warning for the aftermath of a massacre and preparation of bodies for burial in this chapter. Some dialogue is pulled directly from A Court of Mist and Fury, and the poem quoted in this chapter is Tithonus by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

On a lighter note, shout-out to @thesistersarcheron for beast Rhys tongue inspo and to @popjunkie42 for all her Feysand poetry thoughts <3

Read on AO3 or you can find the eighteenth chapter below the readmore.

Rhys halted, taking in Mor's news. "Who," he said, and I hadn't known such utter rage could be conveyed in a single word.

I set the paintbrush down and stepped closer, feeling sick. If the priestesses were anything like the ones I'd come to know at the library…

At that thought, both our anger surged down the mating bond, and it felt as if my chest had been set ablaze. There had already been too much senseless violence Under the Mountain.

"We don't know," Mor said. "Azriel is investigating now."

Rhys began to pace. He'd hidden his wings to avoid them dragging on the floor when he'd sat with me, but shadows rolled off his shoulders as they appeared again, almost involuntarily.

But his voice was still soft as he said, "Does he have any initial theories?"

"You know Azriel—he won't say until he has enough information in hand to be sure. Cassian is pissed, though. He’s convinced it must be one of the rogue Illyrian war-bands, intent on winning new territory."

The rest of the Inner Circle must have heard this news first, then. I watched Rhys carefully for a reaction, unsure if that was how things were typically done. He didn't seem any more agitated than before, and I took that as a positive sign.

"I'm worried he may be correct."

"What are your orders?"

"For tonight, there's nothing to be done in Illyria that we aren't already doing. I'll discuss everything with Cassian in the morning. Mor, you and Amren will assist Azriel with whatever information-gathering he needs done. Be ready to field questions from other courts as news spreads. I'll inform Clotho myself and handle incoming correspondence."

Mor's eyes slid to me, and I nearly jumped—she'd been so focused on Rhys that I'd assumed she'd forgotten I was there. "Cesere is within the Night Court's borders. It falls to us to handle this alongside the priestesses," she said, obviously for my benefit.

"How can I help?" I said, fully expecting to be told to stay out of the way.

"The priestesses at the library will need assistance. Our kind bury our dead as swiftly as possible and keep watch until funeral rites are complete. It will mean something to have you there, Feyre, even if you're only comfortable sitting through the service as a representative of my Inner Circle," Rhys said.

There had been no similar sense of urgency among the mortals. When my mother died, there had been a wake, and for several days before her burial, our house had been full of friends and family paying their last respects. I wasn't surprised to hear things the fae did things differently.

For a moment, my mind flashed back to the sight of Tamlin carrying the bloodied corpse of a Summer Court faerie out of the manor. Tonight would be more of the same. And Rhys was giving me an out to avoid the grisly work if I couldn't stomach it.

I didn't hesitate. "I'll do whatever's necessary," I said. If the priestesses needed me to spend the night digging graves, I would.

With one last promise to keep Rhys informed, Mor winnowed away, and there was nothing left to do but head to the library. Before long, Rhys had left to make arrangements for increased security at the other temples, and I made my way down to the spare rooms near the dormitories to help in whatever way I could.

Merrill, a silver-haired scholar I'd once overheard terrorizing a research assistant, was organizing the efforts and barked out orders at me. I rolled up the sleeves of my tunic and got to work.

The carnage turned out to be exactly as horrific as we'd feared. And in Prythian, a land of immortals, there were no morgues or funeral homes. The gore, the obvious evidence of violence…for many of the priestesses, it brought back too many dark memories for them to even approach the bodies.

I choked back bile as I wiped tear tracks from cold cheeks and scrubbed dried blood from every body part imaginable. Gently, I slid soiled nightgowns and torn robes from stiff limbs and replaced them with shrouds. It was difficult, with the extent of some of the injuries, to create any sort of illusion of peaceful repose; whoever had done this hadn't made these deaths quick or painless.

As we worked, the sisters took turns singing prayers. I didn't recognize the language, but I sensed that it was ancient, the tune slow and mournful and in a key I'd never heard before. Down here, surrounded by the red rock of the mountain and no windows, the repetition was the only thing marking the passage of time.

Eventually, all the bodies were laid out in neat rows—too many rows, the scale of the devastation laid painfully bare. Each was clean and covered in a white linen shroud, ready for burial. For a moment, I just sat with the heavy awareness that each one of the bundles was a life—a world, really—that had been snuffed out. So much loss, just to loot a trove.

Rhys hadn't exaggerated when he'd said the fae moved quickly—as soon as the work was finished, I followed the rest of the priestesses towards the sanctuary for the service. I hadn't expected it to be so soon; one of the sisters caught my look of surprise and gently explained that according to faerie traditions, the soul was in a state of confusion between death and burial, and it was cruel to let it linger like that any longer than absolutely necessary.

The sanctuary was a massive cavern, full of dark wood pews surrounding a plain dais at the center. Though about half of the mourners finding their seats were priestesses, all in their identical pale blue robes, faeries from Velaris were there as well. The news had spread, then.

There were more prayers and singing in that strange, ancient language. No instruments, only voices that echoed in the cavern, beautiful yet melancholy. A candle was lit for each slain priestess as their names we read out one by one.

Unable to follow it, I stood and sat in time with everyone else and allowed my mind to wander. The bond had been quiet—presumably, Rhys was busy but otherwise fine—so I took in the assortment of faeries who'd come to pay their respects.

Perhaps it shouldn't have been such a surprise, but I recognized a few of them. Evelyn, the priestess who'd been teaching me to read, had nodded hello, and I spotted faeries I'd seen a few times in the library or out in the city. I doubted every single one of them knew any of the victims; this was just the community coming together.

That thought made Velaris feel a bit more like…home.

And though Rhys hadn't said it outright—and seemed so intent on not pressuring me that I doubted he ever would—I wondered if attending a vigil like this was something expected of the Lady of the Night Court. Since we'd decided to keep it a secret, we hadn't spoken about my title at all. Or any obligations that came with it. My lack of understanding of the situation when I accepted the bond didn't make me any less of a High Lord's mate, though.

My family's money had run out when I'd turned eleven—my sisters had been the ones raised to be ladies. They'd been the ones expected to someday be the wife of a rich, powerful man, to run households and host balls and busy themselves with charity work that made their husbands look good. I was just the hopeless, half-wild heathen.

Rhys loved me, had confidence in me like no one else, and I doubted I could ever be a failure in his eyes. That wasn't true for the rest of Prythian. I didn't take representing him lightly, especially not for something like this.

Before my thoughts could spiral any further, the funeral ended. The bodies had been winnowed to the graveyard, and there was nothing left to do. It was the middle of the night when I headed towards the townhouse.

I reached down the bond for Rhys as I walked, careful not to startle him. The thread between us went taut anyway, and I could sense that he was instantly on alert.

I didn't even give him a chance to ask if something was wrong I'm fine, home soon. Do you need anything else from me?

Go rest while you can. I've sent Azriel, Mor, and Amren to do the same.

But you aren't? I wouldn't let him talk around it.

I am High Lord, and some things can't be delegated.

For once, he didn't sound arrogant, just matter-of-fact. There was no point in attempting to mother-hen him out of finishing whatever he was obligated to complete tonight, so I didn't bother. I sent a pulse of affection down the bond, assuming that was the end of the conversation.

But he added, None of us liked the thought of you in the townhouse alone. Mor is there.

I was so unused to being looked after that I almost asked why anyone would be concerned. But Mor had mentioned them all being duty-bound and overprotective on my first day here, so perhaps it shouldn't have been a surprise.

And at least it wasn't Amren babysitting me.

Something pleasantly warm crossed the bond, along with the strange sensation of a soft kiss pressed to the back of my mind. Then Rhys's shields went back up, and the rest of my walk home was uneventful.

Mor was in the living room when I arrived. At first, I'd thought she must have just been waiting to make sure I'd gotten home safely, but before she'd turned around at the sound of my footsteps, I'd noticed the empty wineglass and the way she'd absentmindedly pressed a hand to her lower abdomen. And then I understood—I wasn't the only one who was better off with company tonight.

I'd never asked about the scar I'd seen peeking out from the waistband of Mor's pants on days she wore something that bared her midriff. She would have covered it if she'd been ashamed, but…it seemed private. Some of the priestesses laid to rest that night had been ripped open in the same place, and I could guess what weighed on Mor.

But still, she brightened immediately at the sight of me, the light coming back into her red-rimmed eyes. I sank into the chair next to her.

"It was good to finally see you painting earlier," she said, voice warm.

I shrugged. "It was just a decoration, not something on canvas or paper. It doesn't really count." Flowers on a table were a start, but it wasn't quite the same as capturing an image that had plagued my mind or using paint to express a feeling that words couldn't.

She nudged me with an elbow. "It was also the happiest I've ever seen you. That counts for something too, you know."

For a while, Mor and I talked about nothing consequential. We both needed it. After everything we'd witnessed, it helped to pretend for a while that nothing was wrong. It made the violence feel more distant, enough that I was able to fall asleep when we both went upstairs, even without Rhys back.

My sleep was fitful, but each time I woke, a caress of talons against my mind—and once, loud purring and a wet scrape against my shields that would have made me think I was being groomed by a cat if it weren't for the forked tongue and rustle of feathers—relaxed me enough to drift off again.

It was nearly midmorning when I got out of bed, the latest I ever managed to sleep. I sensed that Rhys was nearby, and I followed the bond down to the kitchen, where I found him sitting at the table, head in his hands and wings drooping. He didn't look up at me.

"How bad is it?" I said, lingering in the doorway. It was late enough that he must have already spoken with Cassian.

He rubbed at his temples. "No definitive answers. I'd hoped there would be proof that this was nothing more than rogue war-bands that can be put down. Whoever it was knew what they were doing and covered their tracks. It could still very well just be Illyrians…or an act of war."

My blood ran cold. I knew it was foolish to think that killing Amarantha had ended the danger—she had been connected to Hybern, and Rhys and the rest of the Inner Circle had already discussed the possibility of opportunists taking advantage of a weakened Prythian after fifty years of Amarantha's rule. But something about Rhys putting it so plainly suddenly made it hard to breathe.

Before I could say anything, Rhys continued, "This needs to be dealt with swiftly, so I've moved up my visit to the Court of Nightmares. I'll go tonight, take tomorrow to plan. Cassian, Azriel, and I will hunt down the war-bands that are hiding out in the forests."

I knew Rhys—the security of the Night Court was at stake, so he'd find a way to push through it, even though I doubted he was ready to face the very court Amarantha had modeled hers after and his wings were still weakened. He'd tear open as many wounds as he needed to keep his people safe.

But perhaps…I could make sure he didn't have to.

I crossed the room, standing next to the chair and looping an arm around his shoulders to pull him close. He curled a wing around me and hid his face in my shoulder.

"If war comes, we'll face it. Together," I whispered against his hair as plans formed in my mind.

He said nothing, too overwhelmed to do anything but tug on the bond. I held him like that for a while, and with my shields firmly in place, I considered how exactly I'd lighten those burdens for him. Neither one of us was alone anymore.

"Have you slept at all?" I said eventually.

He sat back, tipping his head up to look at me. "No. It's—"

"Then go rest, Rhys."

"Is that an order?" Something sparked in his eyes, and I could have sworn amusement had crept into his voice.

"The point of this visit is to show your face in the Hewn City again. You need all the beauty sleep you can get."

His lips twitched—not quite a smile, but close to it. My hand had been resting on his shoulder, and as he stood, I let it trail down his arm. He interlaced our fingers, and for a moment, just from the way his eyes went soft as he looked at me, I was sure he was about to ask me to come to bed with him, risk of slashing talons during a nightmare be damned.

I would have said yes. And even if he never asked, I still had half a mind to follow him upstairs anyway, just to give into the feral, protective instinct to keep watch while my mate slept.

But Rhys didn't ask. Instead he pressed a kiss to my knuckles and said, "Make sure you eat something."

I knew what that meant. "I love you, too."

He squeezed my hand once, then winnowed upstairs. For the next few hours, I could feel through the bond that he'd at least managed to catnap before he had to leave. I had things to do as well, but I wouldn't let Rhys sleep in an empty house, either. And I did need to eat. So I paced the townhouse restlessly with food in hand.

Then once Rhys left, my first order of business was making my way to the House of Wind.

I could have asked him to bring me there—and probably saved myself the trouble of climbing ten thousand steps again—but for now, I didn't want to tell him exactly why I wanted to go. As I climbed and climbed, I hoped my assumptions about who might be in the training ring were correct.

And they were. "Is everything alright, Feyre?" Azriel said, without turning from the target he was sinking a dagger into.

"I'm fine," I said, and at the very least it was true that I wasn't in danger. "I wanted to speak to you."

"Now?"

"Yes. While Rhys is busy." That finally got Azriel to drag his attention away from target practice. The way his gaze swept over me was an obvious assessment, as if he was cataloging all the information he found at the sight of me. I didn't mind. When Azriel didn't say anything, I added, "I think I should come with when you go to Illyria."

I'd half-expected him to immediately tell me no, that it was too dangerous. But Azriel tipped his head to the side and asked, "What makes you say that?"

I sat down at the edge of the ring, more grateful than ever that Rhys surrounded himself with the type of people who'd hear me out. Azriel sheathed the dagger and sat down beside me.

"I know I can't take on an Illyrian, and I'm not stupid enough to try," I said, choosing my words carefully, "but I'm concerned it will be difficult for him if we're separated again so soon after….everything. You and Cassian will need him to focus, and he can't afford to make a mistake and appear weak."

Azriel was silent again, clearly mulling it over, but I couldn't read much of a reaction from him beyond that. It was unsettling to consider much that impassive face could be hiding. If I didn't trust already him, I would have nervously blurted out all of my thoughts right then and there.

"It's an angle to consider. Is there…something you had in mind to do while you're there?"

It was a valid question, though I hadn't expected Azriel to ask how I intended to ensure I wasn't a deadweight so tactfully. And at least I had an answer prepared.

"Let me hunt so the three of you can focus on the task at hand instead of trying to feed yourselves or carry rations. You'll get done faster."

Azriel raised an eyebrow. I was ready to remind him that I was still a competent enough tracker to avoid anyone in the woods I might not want to run into. My muscles tensed almost involuntarily, my body preparing for a fight.

But instead he said, more gently than I'd ever heard him, "Tell me why you really want to go."

I stared out at the mountains in the distance and thought about what to say. Even though I knew there was nothing to be ashamed of, it was still difficult to find the words. Azriel just waited, patient as ever.

"I need to be outside for a few days straight. After— After being stuck in that cell, I just want to be able to pick a direction and run, somewhere there's so much space that I'll tire myself out before I find a single building."

I almost told him that I didn't want to sit behind in Velaris and wait for Rhys to come back, but that seemed cruel, all things considered. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Az rub his thumb along the spot on his hand where the scarring was the most obvious.

"I know the feeling," he said quietly. I started to respond, but he added, "You can't scream in Velaris, at least not without scaring the neighbors. But if you ever need to…let it out, I'll show you the empty places in the Illyrian Steppes."

Azriel knew. Just like with Mor's scars, I'd never asked about his, but whatever had happened, he'd been confined in the dark once. I hadn't realized it—I'd come to him first because he'd supported me trapping the Suriel on my first day in the Night Court.

"Thank you."

"You haven't brought this up to your mate, have you?"

There was no accusation there. Azriel's voice was even, and I had the sense he was just…gathering more information.

"Not yet. I wanted to see what you and Cassian thought first."

A single nod. "Prudent."

"Do you think it's a good idea, then? For me to go?" I said, once the silence stretched on long enough that it was clear he wasn't going to elaborate.

"It's worth discussing. Even after the frenzy, mated males are…volatile."

Azriel shifted awkwardly, tucking his wings in tight. And I understood—I didn't particularly want to discuss the mating frenzy, either. Especially not with someone who was more or less family. But after the way Rhys had growled at Cassian over me, we were right to consider what those instincts might mean, whether being apart or potential danger in the woods was a bigger risk.

I thanked him again and got up to leave, but the sound of Azriel's voice, midnight-dark and more stern than I'd ever heard it, stopped me in my tracks. "Where do you think you're going?" I turned, and Azriel had already gotten up from where he was sitting and unsheathing another blade. "You climbed ten thousand steps to get up here, so make it worth your while and work on your knife skills."

Azriel had earned that reputation as a hard bastard. Even today, I wasn't going to get out of training.

And if war was coming, I'd need all the training I could get. I took the knife and got to work, if only for a short lesson.

When we finished, Azriel flew me to the townhouse, and Rhys wasn't back yet. That was fine—there was still more I needed to do. The chances of a nightmare were too high that he'd share a bed with me that night. But he needed sleep, and he'd said that I smelled like safety.

I was used to hiding my scent, not spreading it. With the glamour on me, I wasn't even sure my idea would work, but it seemed worth a try, even if it did make me feel faintly ridiculous.

I dug my clothes out of the laundry and tucked them in the corners of Rhys's room. When I'd hunted, I'd kept a specific set of clothes for the woods and washed them as infrequently as possible, minimizing the scent of laundry soap. If it worked in the forest…maybe it might work here.

Then I hesitated, just for a moment, to touch the bed. Before, I'd only ever ventured into his bedroom when Rhys had a nightmare, and I couldn't quite shake the feeling that this was somehow a violation, ridiculous as that was when there was an unbreakable thread connecting our souls and my bite marks made him preen.

I pushed those thoughts aside and crawled under the covers. Trying my best to be thorough, I rolled around and rubbed my hair against both sides of the pillow. I repeated the process under both the sheet and the duvet for good measure, then made the bed and spent some time on top of it.

I hoped it was enough. I doubted we'd take a sleeping draught tonight; being difficult to rouse if there was another emergency was too much of a risk.

By the time I finished, it was getting late, and I wasn't sure now was the time for Rhys to come home and find me waiting in his bed, even if it was…tempting. I filed that thought away for another time.

I was still restless—too long without anything to do, and I found myself thinking of the slain priestesses again, the sight of mutilated bodies flashing across my mind again. In search of another distraction, I wandered back to the living room and looked at the bookshelves lining the walls. I'd never paid much attention to them before. But apparently Rhys considered them mine too, and perhaps there was something worth copying for handwriting practice.

I pulled the book with the most cracks in the spine off the shelf, idly wondering if it was his favorite. I'd ask, but…misplaced shame still made it difficult to talk about reading. Still curious, I flipped it open to a random page and struggled through what appeared to be poetry.

The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,

The vapours weep their burthen to the ground…

I scowled and put the book back. Years of hunting had been more than enough decaying woods for a lifetime, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know what a burthen was.

I tried another book and found more poetry—Cauldron, how much of it did Rhys read? But the words were shorter, which I felt better about, so I found a pen and paper and brought the book to the roof with me. The full moon and the light of the stars and Velaris were enough to read by.

I didn't pay much attention to what the poem was about, just focused on copying the letters as neatly as possible. Something about the work and sitting under the stars was strangely meditative.

But I didn't relax completely until I heard a soft rustle of wings and turned to see Rhys landing a few feet away. Something inside me settled. Perhaps some of my restlessness had just been the mating bond railing at him being away, even for only a few hours.

Rhys nearly always looked elegant, but for the Hewn City, there wasn't a single speck of color on him. There was no sheen to the fine black fabric of his suit, no embroidery like he often favored, just cloth so dark it seemed to gobble the light, buttoned up to hide his tattoos. The night itself clung to him more tightly than usual.

His grip on his power was still a bit looser than usual, and though it was faint, I felt familiar darkness reaching for me.

I watched his feet touch the ground, the movement far more graceful than the last time I'd seen it. For a moment, I just savored it—the wingspan, the promise of death in just the way he carried himself, my blood singing in answer to the darkness rippling from him.

I almost didn't notice the ebony crown. He'd never worn one in front of me before.

"Is there magic keeping that on your head," I said, "or did you have to learn to fly without it falling off?"

He snorted. "Hello, Feyre."

A flick of his wrist as he sank into the chair next to mine, and the crown disappeared and the top button of his jacket loosened itself. His gaze landed on the open book and notepad in my lap. Before he could ask about it, I said, "How did it go?"

"I didn't have to make an example of anyone, so as well as could reasonably be expected," he said, rolling his shoulders with a pinched expression on his face.

No violence, then. It felt like the first respite in a while.

We sat on the roof and talked for a while about nothing in particular, a silent understanding passing between us that we both didn't want to feel enclosed or alone. I summoned up the courage to ask about the books downstairs; my visible relief at the lack of dirty limericks Tamlin favored made Rhys snicker and tell me the awful verses were still a mercy compared to fiddle music.

Until he'd spat those last two words like a curse, I hadn't realized I'd put enough distance between myself and the Spring Court to joke about it. Despite everything that had happened in the last day, I felt…lighter.

Exhaustion still settled over both of us as we'd talked, and in just the set of his shoulders and wings, I could see the way being underground had taken something out of him. It was an early night.

As I slid into bed, I was tired enough that I'd nearly forgotten what I'd done in Rhys's room earlier. But his voice floated into my mind, as if a night-kissed wind carried it through the crack in my shields I'd left for him.

Feyre darling…

"Yes?" I said aloud. He'd hear it from across the hall.

Do I want to know what you were doing that involved rolling around in my sheets and leaving your socks for me to find?

My cheeks heated, and even though couldn't see it, I rolled over and hid my face in the pillow anyway. "Tonight might be another bad night. I thought my scent might help. Because I can't…"

For the length of a heartbeat, the bond lit up with gratitude. Then there was a dip in the bed next to me, and Rhys's arms were banding around my chest and pulling me to him. He'd winnowed right to me.

"You are impossible to stay away from when you're being brilliant," he murmured against my hair.

I nearly asked him to stay. But I knew it was hard enough for him to let me in enough to see the aftermath of a nightmare, and that was when there was no risk to me. He didn't say it, but…I suspected he was only holding me until I fell asleep.

I twisted in his arms so we were face-to-face, then kissed him gently. "It won't always be like this. The bad nights will be behind us eventually."

He sighed and let his head tip forward until our foreheads were touching. I closed my eyes and let my breathing slow, warm and comfortable. We stayed like that for a long time, until he finally winnowed back to his room.

I scooted over to the warm spot he'd left, already aching for him. It would still be a while before my thoughts stopped racing enough for me to finally drift off, but Rhys didn't need to know that. I'd pretend anything at all to give him peace of mind.

Sleep finally claimed me as his side of the bed went cold again.

#feysand #feyre archeron #we said hello and your eyes look like coming home #if you're wondering about the chapter title feyre uses her socks as a feliway diffuser for rhys in this one

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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year

Text

Kiss of the Angel of Death

Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Fem!Reader

WC: 2.4k words

Song inspo: this

Warnings: literally all of Mizumono, heavy angst, mentions of gore, violence and blood, no happy ending, corruption yeah, lmk if anything else!

Special tag: @glitchedpup

——

Time took a strange shape that night. It was both slow and entirely too fast, like being submerged in tranquil waters, only to break the surface and find it was a raging river all along.

You had explicit orders to stay put until the right moment, if everything went according to plan. The wheels of fate had been set into motion either way, and there was nothing to be done except watch it all unfold.

Even when you started to hear things smashing, followed by guttural screams and the heavy thumps of bodies colliding against various surfaces, you did nothing. You were always so obedient, more loyal than any bloodhound was to its master.

You trusted Hannibal implicitly– how could you not? You owed him your life, really. Countless times, he had tended to you with a caring hand, guiding you through the shadowy tunnels of your mind and whispering the truth of the world in your ears like it was gospel.

You trusted him even when he decided to hide you and Abigail from Will. Hannibal wanted to surprise him, keeping the secret while orchestrating your escape. It was all meant to be so perfect.

Up in your hiding spot, you held Abigail’s gaze steadily, urging her to remain quiet– to remain calm. It was a gargantuan task, given that you yourself were more than ready to barge downstairs. You would not hesitate to tear at anything that stood in your way, and that was why you needed to rein your instincts in.

Will was meant to come home at any moment. When he did, the madness would stop. He would explain— he had to. It would all turn out to be a misunderstanding, a tasteless act of faith.

Surely anything but betrayal.

When he came home, all of the pieces would fall into place and things would be okay.

This was all necessary, you reminded yourself. It was better not to leave a trail, to hush the questions before they were even asked. Soon, you and your family would be no more than a distant memory to those who remained here.

Freedom was so close you could almost taste it.

Your whole body was tense like a cornered viper poised to strike, eyes wild and unfocused as adrenaline coursed through you. An animal sort of awareness took over your more coherent thoughts, and you tilted your head to hear better, gently shushing Abigail when she whimpered in fear.

And that was when you heard footsteps thundering up the stairs. You pushed Abigail into one corner, situating yourself in front of her, prepared for whatever – or whoever – was approaching.

The door burst open and Alana came rushing in, closing and locking it behind her. With shaking hands and hitching breaths, she reloaded her pistol. Her pursuer – presumably Hannibal – was right outside the door, and you forced yourself not to flinch as she fired two warning shots at the door.

“I found more bullets,” she called, voice trembling with her crumbling bravado.

Your ears rang, but you could still hear Hannibal’s footsteps moving past the door. You stepped forward, slowly and noiselessly, but Alana still perceived the movement from the corner of her eye.

She turned, eyes widening upon seeing you and Abigail, her gun now pointed at your chest. Ghosts of the past, but only one she recognized.

You’d never had the pleasure of officially meeting her, until now. If only for a short while.

You felt nothing at the panic within her gaze; Not compassion nor contempt. No wavering as you glanced down at the barrel. Not even a gaping maw of emptiness.

Simply nothing.

“Abigail…” Alana breathed, unable to find her voice.

“I’m so sorry,” Abigail whispered to her, sounding genuinely sorrowful, biting back tears.

I’m not, you thought, lunging forward and shoving Alana backwards.

The window shattered loudly, and Alana’s body hurtled through the night air before collapsing in the wet concrete of the driveway like a ragdoll. Her limbs were at the wrong angles, her body all too still.

You kept Abigail away from the window as she clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling her wails. Tears ran hot down her pale cheeks, her entire body trembling with the weight of it all.

Outside, another figure cut through the haze of the heavy rain, with a fluid, careful gait you recognized. He was finally there.

Will crouched by Alana’s broken form, removing his jacket and placing it around her head. Blood bubbled from her lips in a gurgling plea for help.

You watched him bring his phone to his ear, keeping the call brief before rushing into the house.

That was when you finally ushered Abigail out the door. The two of you slithered down the hallway, blending with the shadows. You let her scurry down the stairs, holding back for a moment, bracing yourself for whatever you were about to encounter. She went to the kitchen, right into the heart of all the destruction.

You heard his voice before you even saw him.

“Abigail?”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Abigail sobbed. “I did what he told me.”

Will ignored this for the time being. “Where is he?”

You stood in the doorway, watching Hannibal emerge from the shadows, soaked in blood. His breathing was ragged, muscles tense as he clutched two knives in his hands. He did not see you slinking in the dark, solely focused on Will.

“Hello, Will.” He said, his voice foreign and yet utterly familiar.

Will did not move as Hannibal approached him, welcoming him into his embrace. His stormy blue eyes found you over his shoulder, widening further infinitesimally. You blinked, your gaze blank as your mind did not yet process everything that was unfolding. You held a paring knife with a white-knuckled grip, rooted to the stop.

Your name left his lips in a hiss as Hannibal’s curved blade sank into his abdomen, gutting him. Will’s hands flew to the wide arc of the wound, his entrails straining against it. His blood spurted like a fountain, staining himself and Hannibal.

Hannibal held him close, cradling the back of his head with a jarring tenderness, like he was a soft-skulled babe in need of support. Will gasped and gurgled like a fish out of water, his body violently spasming as he clasped Hannibal’s arms.

For once, a sharp pang of defiance slipped through the cracks of your obedient resolve.

“No,” you mouthed the word, breath having completely left you.

You’d wanted to screech it instead, to stop time and space with the tear of your vocal chords. If you couldn’t go back in time, you at least wanted to preserve everyone in that moment, right on the brink of things changing forever.

“I let you in. I let you see me. I let you know me,” Hannibal said, his voice wavering in a way that terrified you.

It confirmed what you’d feared the most, and your heartbreak mirrored his. Had Hannibal tried to spare you of this by not telling you earlier? Had he hoped you wouldn’t have to witness it at all?

The pain yawned further open, a deep valley within your chest. Abigail whimpered, unable to move herself. In her eyes, you could see that she was digesting the reality of the situation… and how it would end. True, absolute, terrible clarity.

“You wanted to be seen,” Will countered, straining to get the words out as he fought to stay conscious.

“By you,” you said, finally finding your voice once again.

Hannibal glanced over his shoulder at you before turning back to Will. “A rare gift I’ve given you. One we could’ve all shared. But you didn’t want it.”

“Didn’t I?” Will wheezed.

His body crumpled to the floor as Hannibal let go of him. Will propped his upper back against the kitchen island, panting shallowly as he looked at you, silently pleading with his eyes. They asked for understanding, for forgiveness. You looked away, gritting your teeth so hard you feared they might crack.

“You would deny us our freedom. Her freedom. The one thing we have yearned for all along,” Hannibal continued.

“You said she was away. You said she had left for good. You said it was for the best, even if…” Will spat, trailing off as he loudly coughed, momentarily closing his eyes.

“It was for the best,” you confirmed, voice flat even if you feared he might not open them again. “At least, just to let you believe it was true. I suppose we have all been dishonest in one way or another.”

Will flinched at the sharpness of your words. “But why, then? You were supposed to leave, all of you.”

“We couldn’t leave without you,” Hannibal stated.

When Will did reopen his eyes, they followed him as he approached Abigail. “And her… y-you said she was dead.”

“I wanted to surprise you… and you wanted to surprise us. Fate and circumstance has returned us to the moment the teacup shatters. I forgive you, Will.”

Hannibal brought his blade up to Abigail’s slender, pale throat. She was shaking with a pure, animalistic sort of fright, eyes wide as saucers. She squirmed in his grip, but you could tell she knew it was futile.

You wanted to look away, but you had to bear witness. It was the least you owed her in her final moments.

“Will you forgive me?”

“Don’t…” Will gasped.

In one swift motion, Hannibal sliced a wide gash on her throat, from ear to ear. It curved like a sinister smile, gushing rivers of crimson. She choked and sputtered, barely able to breathe.

Abigail collapsed on the floor, holding her own neck in an attempt to stop the blood. You fell to your knees next to her, bringing her head to your lap and shushing soothingly once more.

You wished it was as easy for her as closing her eyes and going to sleep, but it was much more violent than that. Hannibal had made sure that Will would learn a lesson from it.

Tears burned in your eyes, threatening to spill. But you held your breath for so long that your lungs ignited, trying to keep strong for her. In your mind, you begged her for forgiveness— for letting her down, for not being able to stop it… for not saving her.

“No…” Will whimpered, using his quickly waning strength to try and crawl towards her.

Their blood coalesced on the floor, binding them together for the rest of their short lives. Will, too, tried to stop the bleeding, but it was all in vain.

“Spare a final word, darling. We must go now,” Hannibal urged.

Despite it all, you couldn’t help yourself, crawling to Will’s side to kneel in the pool of his own blood. Abigail’s breath was short and labored, close to ceasing all together. You whispered a goodbye into her ear, kissing her temple with the utmost care, thanking her for your time together.

Will’s vision swam, the world blurring at the edges. The kitchen light was like a halo behind your head, making you appear angelic. Not that you weren’t already in his eyes.

“Perhaps we will meet again some day,” you whispered, wiping his mess of brown curls away from his damp forehead. “Perhaps with new faces, new hearts and new names, but our souls would know each other anywhere. There, you can ask for my forgiveness. I have none to grant tonight.”

With excruciating gentleness, you bent down as you lifted Will’s head. Your lips met halfway, and you tasted the salty, metallic tang of his blood on your tongue — a parting gift. You savored the bittersweetness of it, his kiss feverish and weakening.

In his effort to move, Will’s wound teared, and he screamed in agony as you pulled back from the kiss. You stood up, trying to stifle the war inside you. You wanted to both save him and also to let him have a more merciful death.

“Goodbye, Will,” you said with devastating finality.

You would not betray Hannibal. You would cut that chain off before it could reach any further. If there was one person who would never hurt him, you hoped it was you.

Both Will and Abigail collapsed, faces inches from each other. Their consciousness was slowly trickling away, only a few minutes until they would fully slip away.

Hannibal took your hand, which was also slick with blood, slippery against your skin. He led you out of the back door, where the distant sirens of police cars could be heard.

A traitorous hope bloomed within you, and you glanced back at the house— the place that would never be home again. You hoped they might find them in time, maybe even save at least one of them. It was a feeling you would keep locked up deep inside of you, with the possibility of it festering into a gaping, oozing wound.

The rain pelted you both, washing you of not just the blood, but hopefully your sins too. The two of you stepped over Alana’s broken body, not even glancing down at her. Hannibal led you further into the darkness of the late night, away from the incoming cacophony of noise and buzzing activity.

This was the beginning of a new life, once again. You had experienced rebirth already, a painful process that you wouldn’t soon forget. But you knew you could survive it once more, if only because once more, Hannibal would be at your side.

The chrysalis had finally burst, and your true selves had emerged in a violent surge of blood and pain. Now there would be no more hiding, at least between you, but now you would be allowed to start anew.

Looking at him, you thought you saw Hannibal crying, but you couldn’t be sure with the rain. You knew you shared the heartbreak, but it would take him some time to admit it. Not that you would push him, of course.

Wherever he would take you, you would follow. Even if Will survived, you knew that he would do anything in his power to find you.

For the time being, you only cared about creating the space for you to heal with Hannibal, until you were ready to accept whatever life was meant to hurl at you.

Your broken hearts would take some time to fix, but you knew eventually, love was meant to mend the pieces you had lost.

———-

#hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #mizumono #Hannibal lecter x reader #will Graham x reader #mizumono fanfiction #minors dni #hannibal spoilers

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slytherinbarnes · 6 months

Note

I NOW WE'RE TALKING ABOUT RED BUT YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT TEARS RICOCHET ISNT ABOUT BELLUNE LIKE!!!!!!!!!

i just found this in my drafts bc i very clearly had inspo and i cant believe i never shared it. my tears ricochet x bellune, but make it a season 3 au where we lose our girl instead of lincoln oops sorry

You sit beside Kane in lock up, having just said goodbye to your mother, wishing you could do the same with Bellamy and your sister.

As you near the hour of what will soon be your death, you find comfort in knowing that at least Clarke will have your mother. Selfishly, some part of you is grateful that you don’t have to feel the loss of losing your twin, and that Clarke will have to learn to live with the grief. But she was always stronger than you, and if anyone could learn to live without half of themselves, your shining star can.

But in the end, it’s Bellamy your heart aches for. In a way, he’s lost his sister, his friends, those that are closest to him. In the moments of silence, when it’s just the two of you, you can see the weight pulling down his shoulders, can see the anguish that has settled into the lines on his face. Bellamy has spent most of his life lost; searching for who he is without a father, what kind of man he wanted to be on the Ark. and then losing his mother and Octavia, it left him listless, floating in the openness of space with no idea of who he wanted to be.

It’s why he so easily agreed to save Octavia’s life by shooting Jaha; he had the opportunity to find himself again. To anchor his identity to his goal of saving Octavia, and ultimately, his people.

But then his obsession with saving his people, after having lost so many in such a short time, broke him, pushed into the arms of a fascist chancellor who saw how easy it was to take advantage of the man you love.

It’s a path you can’t follow him down.

It’s a path you won’t be given the chance to follow him down, even if you wanted to.

You look at Kane, at the man you’ve come to see as a father figure without even realizing it was happening. And now, the man who will lose his life the same way your father lost his. Fighting for what’s right.

“It can't be all for nothing.” Kane turns to look at you in confusion, not understanding what you mean. You push on, “All of it. The spying, Mount Weather, all the hell we’ve faced can’t be all for nothing. Pike will destroy Skaikru until there’s nothing left, and everything we fought for will no longer matter.”

Lincoln wanders over and sits beside you on the bench. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, a silent message that he understands your frustration.

“There’s nothing left for us to do. We have to hope our deaths will mean something. That it will finally push for the change we’ve been fighting for.”

You’re incredulous at the suggestion, at the thought of being told to just stop fighting. “So that’s it? We just give up?”

Kane shakes his head, his expression sad, but determined. “No. This is how we fight now. We go with grace, accept our punishment, hold our head high. We don’t break, we don’t show fear. The people will remember.”

He glances up at Sinclair, who has just joined the three of you, nodding in agreement. You look at Lincoln, who gives Kane a single nod in agreement, and you sit between them, wondering how this is all that’s left for you. You’re the last to agree, resigned to a fate that may save the love of your life and your people, a fate that you will not be around to see.

You’ve never been happier to see Octavia Blake in your entire life.

She ushers all of you to safety, freedom just on the other side of a hidden passageway built into Arkadia’s walls.

A freedom that she watches slip away as Lincoln insists on staying back for his people.

You see the betrayal on her face as she slips into unconsciousness, the same betrayal you felt when Bellamy did the same thing to you in Mount Weather. As Lincoln passes his unconscious girlfriend into Kane’s waiting arms, you close in on him, trying to change his mind. She passes out right after, and Lincoln catches her easily, passing her to Kane. You step towards Lincoln, looking at him in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Same thing you’d do for your people.”

You give him a serious look, “Yu laik ai kru.”

You are my people. He smiles at you, but it’s sad, and the sight of it hurts your heart. “Just get her out of here. Please.”

But then Kane’s words rattle around in your head, and it finally clicks for you. We have to hope our deaths will mean something. The people of Arkadia see Lincoln as a Grounder, and his sacrifice to save other Grounders will mean nothing to them. They will only see it as someone saving their own. They need to see one of their own, someone from the Ark, risking their life for Grounders. It’s the only way they’ll ever understand what the rest of you are fighting for.

The answer seems so obvious now, and you feel like a fool for not thinking of it earlier.

You turn back to Lincoln, shaking your head at him, already stepping away. “Get her out of here yourself. I can save your people.” And maybe Bellamy too.

Kane steps closer to the two of you, unable to avoid overhearing your conversation in the small hallway. His expression is distraught, shaking his head as he looks at you. “No, you can’t.”

“You said it yourself: our deaths can mean something. The people will remember. I know this place better than Lincoln, I know the guard schedules and routes. I can get them out and be seen only when I need to be. I can end this.”

“But Clarke-”

You cut Kane off, “Has my mother, and our friends, and you.”

You can see the moment he remembers that you will not go out without a fight, that you will do this with or without his support. He offers you the only thing he can, which is his blessing. “If you get them into the west woods, they can navigate the trade routes to the blockade. They’ll be safe.”

It relieves you to have his approval, though you can see the anguish it’s causing him to give it. You give him a small smile of thanks, hoping he won’t carry guilt from something that you’re willingly choosing to do.

You can’t say the same for Lincoln, who grabs your arm as you try to step away, pulling you back towards the escape route. “La lune, you can’t.”

“We both know it’s the only way, Lincoln. You know that I know this camp better than you. I’m more likely to make it through unnoticed. If you want your people to be safe, they need to get out of this camp, at least until Pike is dead. I can’t take care of that, but I can save your people and make a statement. Maybe the people will turn on him, offer him to the Grounders at the blockade.”

You can see that he desperately wants to argue with you, but when his mouth opens, no words come out. Because both of you know he’s right, and if Skaikru wants any chance of survival, they need to see Pike do the unthinkable. He reaches out for you, his strong arms pulling you into a hug, and it’s the first time since you made your decision that you start to tear up.

When Lincoln pulls away, his expression is sad, but you swear you glimpse a look of pride in your eyes. It strengthens your resolve further. “A warrior with a heart.”

You smile at him before reaching up and unclasping your necklace, your thumb brushing over the silver moon one last time. You press it into Lincoln’s hand, delivering your final wish. “Can you give this to Bellamy for me?”

His hand closes over the moon, the last time you’ll ever see the small charm, and when you meet Lincoln's eyes, you can see that he understands what this means to you. “Of course.”

There’s a clamor down the hall, what sounds like a commotion of guards, and you know that time is finally up. You quickly press a kiss to Octavia’s forehead and back away from the two men, looking them both over as you mutter, “May we meet again.”

They repeat it back to you before slipping into the hidden passageway, and when you press the panel back into the wall, it’s with the knowledge that you’ll never see any of them again.

The escape of 4 prisoners sentenced to death has the guards scrambling, and it makes them sloppy.

It’s easy to be invisible when that’s all you were your entire life. You blend in with the crowds of Arkadians easily, walking past most of the guards in plain sight. And when you round the final corner to the small lock up you left not long ago, you’re relieved to find that they only left one guard behind.

He’s not expecting you, so when you run down the hall at full speed, kicking your legs out to swipe his own feet from beneath him, he tumbles easily. You yank the shock baton from his belt, cranking it up just enough to knock him unconscious, but not to kill him. You’re trying to help your cause, not hurt it.

You pat the man down, finding a small pocket knife that you slip into your pants, along with his key card to open the holding cell door. Denae stands there with the others, looking at you in shock, surprised to see you after you were led to your death not long ago.

“Where’s Lincoln?”

“Safe. Escaped with the others.” You look over the group of Grounder prisoners that have started to stand and move towards you. “We don’t have much time. I have to get you to the west woods before they notice you’re gone.”

The Grounders don’t need to be told to hurry; they’ve seen how easily Pike locked his people up and sentenced them to death, know that it’s only a matter of time before they’re next. The stronger ones carry and guide the weak, and you take the emptier hallways until all of you are safely outside, the fence and the woods beyond it in your sight. You want to be seen, but getting caught before freeing the Grounders will only make things worse for everyone.

As your group openly jogs across a busy section of Arkadia, people stop to watch you, but no one says a word, unsure of what exactly they’re seeing. When you reach the fence, you toss a nearby stick at a section you hope is no longer electrified, fried long ago during spy related activities. The stick hits the ground without event, and you let out a sigh of relief, guiding Denae and the others through the gaps in the fence. When everyone is safely through, Denae turns to look at you, surprised to find you still on the other side. “You’re not coming with us?”

“There’s something else I need to do. Follow the trade route to the west, and you’ll reach the blockade in no time. Your people can protect you from there.”

“Thank you.”

You feel strange accepting her thanks. “I’m sorry for what my people have done to yours. Maybe one day we will all be one people.”

“Peace will find a way.”

And as the two of you exchange a smile, an alarm begins to sound over the PA system, prompting Denae to turn and run, disappearing into the treeline with her people before Pike and his guards even know they’re gone. You let out a sigh of relief, because at least now, everyone is safe. Except for you.

“La lune, la lune, la lune.”

The name falls from Bellamy’s lips like a broken prayer as he sprints through the woods, back towards Arkadia, a necklace squeezed so tight in his grasp that a small silver moon will leave its imprint in his palm for hours after he lets go.

He can hear footsteps crashing through the woods behind him, his sister and Kane calling his name as he tears through the woods on memory alone, letting his legs carry him back to the woman he loves.

I only wanted to keep her safe. To protect her, and my people. I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong.

When he bursts through the treeline, his eyes trace the arc of Arkadia looming high in the gray skies, rain starting to fall like the Earth knows what’s about to happen. Bellamy is sure that he can stop it, that he can convince Pike to save your life, even though he failed before. He’ll give himself in your place, accept that the bullet meant for you is actually for him, one shot to atone for his sins and wipe his slate clean. Because you deserve to live, to have peace and live life until you’re old and gray. You deserve a partner that loves you, and the comfort of knowing that you’ll always be safe with the people you love. You deserve all the things you’ve dreamed and longed for, and even if he can't be there to see it, even if he can't be there to give those things to you, he will sacrifice himself in your place.

Pike walks ahead of a group of guards, guards that Bellamy would have considered friends not two days earlier, guards that are now pulling his fighting girlfriend outside the main gate.

Bellamy starts to run again, his legs moving on instinct to be with you, but strong hands pull him back, holding him in place with an iron grip, forcing him to watch from a distance.

Your hands are bound; hands that he once spent hours holding, content just to be with you. Your hair is wild around you, the way it looks when you wake beside him each morning, tousled now from the way you’re fighting the guards. And the necklace that would normally be glinting in the light around your neck is now gripped so tightly in his hand that blood begins to seep between his fingers.

He wants to turn to Kane and Octavia, scream that they have to save you, that they have to let him go so he can take your place, but he is frozen as he sees you pulled before Pike, the chancellor’s hand already resting on the gun at his side.

Pike is too much of a coward to kill you in the middle of Arkadia.

You guessed as much, but once he dragged you towards the back of camp, out of sight from the rest of your people, you started to fight, deciding that going with grace only worked if there was someone there to see it.

The people of Arkadia will know what happened to you, even though Pike tries to hide it.

Once you are pulled through the gate and into a patch of land just outside Arkadia’s walls, you finally stop your fight. It’s almost over. Everyone you love is outside the camp, except your mother, who will have no idea what’s happened until after you’re gone. You can only hope she remembers her promise to you and Kane, and that she doesn’t risk her life when Clarke still needs her.

You thought you’d be scared, but you aren’t. You swear it’s because your father is with you, his cologne easy to spot amongst the smell of dirt and pine. He’s keeping you standing tall and strong, giving nothing to the man that will soon take your life. A man that he once played chess with, long ago on a ship in the sky, long before anyone knew that a life on Earth was possible.

When you had nothing but time while locked up, you anguished over all the things you were going to lose. Now, as the clock ticks towards the end, you think only of the things that give you joy. You think of Clarke when you were both small, of the pictures she would draw and leave on your pillow to find in the morning. You think of Octavia, the timid girl that became a warrior and your friend, making you more proud than you thought possible. You think of Monty’s moonshine and your mom’s laugh and most of all you think of Bellamy.

You think of the freckles dotted across his face, the ones you would trace for hours as he slept beside you. You think of his lopsided grin, and the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you needed it. You think of how he gave you strength when you had none, the way he laughed when he thought no one was paying attention. You think of him in the quiet moments, the in between, when his face was serene with sleep or his shoulders finally relaxed at the end of a long day. You think of Greek gods, constellations, and the Iliad, of all the stories that tied the two of you together.

And your final wish to the Universe as you turn to face Pike, is that Bellamy Blake will no longer be lost.

You stand tall as they turn you to Pike, your stance confident, despite the situation you’re in.

You don’t drop to your knees when they ask you too, making the guards get their hands dirty instead as they push your knees into the mud beneath you.

You don’t flinch when Pike pulls out his pistol and cocks it.

Your eyes never leave his as his finger moves to the trigger.

The last words to ever leave your lips falls on ears that don’t understand the meaning.

“I love you more than the stars.”

And you swear the last thing you hear before everything goes dark, is a scream that sounds a lot like Bellamy.

Bellamy feels like the scream is splitting his throat apart, his anguish so raw, so palpable, that he’s sure he must be bleeding.

He can’t understand that he’s okay, that the pain he’s feeling isn’t one that can ever be seen. He’s sure that it will kill him, that his heart will refuse to carry this and simply stop. He thinks that will be the greatest mercy, the way to reunite again with you.

He doesn't remember Kane and Octavia pulling him away from the clearing, trying to escape the Arkadian guards that now know where they are. He doesn't remember punching the walls of the cave until his hands were nothing but blood and torn flesh, doesn't remember the screams that tore from his throat until Kane slipped Reaper drugs into his veins.

He slips unconscious in a fit of anguish, surrounded by friends who wonder how they will share the news of your death to your other half if this is how Bellamy reacts.

They have to keep someone on guard duty all night, because Bellamy tries to escape three separate times, swearing he’s going to kill Pike with nothing more than his bare hands.

He has to be chained up when they kidnap Pike and deliver him to the Grounders, ending the blockade. He fights the restraints for hours, until his wrists are just as bloody as his hands once were, and only when he’s finally exhausted every ounce of strength in his body does he finally fall asleep.

And when he dreams, he dreams of you.

@anoddsightcomeoutatnight

#sub rosa x red #sb answers #bellamy blake x reader #sub rosa au

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dcbbw · 5 months

Text

Red Pill: Perspective

Fair warning, this is not fanfic. It’s original content that came to me in the middle of the night after a day spent online perusing TikToks and reddit subs on red pillers and divestment groups.

To provide some context, the term “red piller” is derived from a scene in the 1999 film The Matrix, in which Laurence Fishburne offers Keanu Reeves a choice: “You take the blue pill – the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill – you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.”

In a nutshell, it’s comprised of the most misogynistic men on the planet, including incels, who gather in online forums and groups to basically see who hates women more.

Divestment refers to the removal of oneself from people, places, and things that are toxic, stifling, and/or a detriment to one’s health (mental, emotional, physical). It is a prominent movement amongst black women.

I’m nervous about posting this, but my skin is thick, and my mind is open. I can take compliments, constructive suggestions, and criticism with equal aplomb. To everyone who read this over and encouraged me to post, THANK YOU! Your feedback was, as always, invaluable.

To those who will read this, THANK YOU! Your reads, likes, commentary, and/or reblogs are appreciated more than you know.

Please excuse any and all typos, extraneous/missing words, and grammatical errors. MS Editor rates this piece as 99% error free.

Song Inspo: Rose Lineage (Yoga Remix), Marya Stark/DJ Taz Rashid, + others

Word Count: 796

I am a black woman, plump lips and full hips

My hues are a rainbow, ranging from the thickest cream to the darkest onyx

Pigmentation a reminder of transgressions against me from enslavement to rape

I make more with less, expected to settle for anything, and apologizing to everyone for not diluting who I am

Who I have had to become

I am held up for public shame and ridicule

Teased for my crown of kinks and coils

Seen as housing projects and food stamps

Smelling of hamhocks and collard greens

Called dumb and ratchet despite being in the most highly educated population

Despised for being strong and independent

Blamed for your cowardice and weakness when you abandon me and your children

Because I do not let you lead

I’ve seen where you go: jail, passport bros, your mama’s house

And still, my back supports you, your seed, my family, the church

And the foot on my neck that unsuccessfully tries to hold me down

*****

I am a brown woman, born of colonization

Speaking languages broken, in an accented voice that somehow makes me a stereotype

You eat at my table, your eyes feasting on my bosom and curves. You celebrate my holidays and try to take what culture I have managed to piece together, but I can’t call it appropriation

No, it’s cultural appreciation while you call me and my people third-world country names

You try to dim my brightly colored clothing, deny me freedom, and steal my joy

You call my people slumdog millionaires who cross borders to take your jobs

Jobs you neither have nor want

I am considered only a slight step up from my black sisters because my skin is lighter, but not by much

My hair is silkier which is considered a win in your world

But who knows what it would be if the beginning bloodlines had remained undiluted, untouched by interlopers

My anger isn’t off-putting because it is seen as a reflex of sorts, born of my primitive ways

You take it as a challenge to make me submissive

To you

To trust your America: your ways, your English, your culture.

None of which belong to you

*****

I am an asian woman, what you call the model minority because I study hard, and I work even harder

You consider my acts of service to others submissiveness, which makes me both fantasy and fetish

My quietude is mistakenly deemed as obedience

I labor hard in all workforces to make a better life for me and those who depend upon me to not be a disappointment

Yet you not being able to see me beyond the niche you have placed me in makes you the biggest disappointment of all

It makes no difference

I am seen as a doll, malleable and easily manipulated into sexual parts

Here only to serve you, to listen to you, to cater to your every whim and perversion

I powder my face to adhere to standards of beauty you hold dear, close

It makes up for my dark nipples that you conveniently ignore as you go in and out of throes

*****

I am a biracial woman, born of rape or love … sometimes both

I am no one, belonging nowhere

I am not homogenous, which you view as a flaw I refuse to correct

Hated by at least two races, I create my own ethnicity that no one acknowledges

Culture clash at its finest

You say my blood is sullied, my color a mixture that doesn’t blend well

I am an anomaly: different, exotic; fodder for disdain, envy, mistrust

Wondering when you look at me is it love, lust, curiosity

While you’re probably hoping I’m a “pick me”

All I seek is inclusion

In a world of black and white, brown and yellow

Where is the gray?

*****

I am a white woman, worthy of protection but not privilege

I am the standard of beauty … in your eyes

Thin hair, thin lips, skin that burns beneath the sun

It is I you parade publicly on your arm, it is I to whom you will make a commitment

A trophy of sorts

It is I who you want to bear your children

It is I who will never see the workforce unless you want me to

Barefoot and pregnant

Cooking meals, feeding children, leading the Harper Valley PTA bake sale

As long as I remain a size 8

I can’t be tall, that would emasculate your ego

The house must be clean, that accentuates my femininity

Aprons and pearls hide blackened eyes, bruised arms, empty bottles

Social media promotes my smile when you praise my meatloaf

You make others believe they want to be me

That my white skin elevates me somehow

But does it really?

Tagging: @jared2612 @marietrinmimi @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @alj4890 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys

#dcbbw writes #original fiction #women #women of color #misogony #writer on tumblr

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hazbin-hotline · 7 months

Text

“…and that was the lovely Miss Rascally Rosie with her recipe on her delicious Not-So-Porky Meatloaf- such a delight, I’m sure families at home would kill to get a taste of it. Haha! Now then folks, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Our shiniest, flashiest, newest segment of the season, one that I’m sure all sinners will want to take a gander at. Introducing, the one, the only- Hazbin Hotline! Your one-stop segment of all things related to our very own Princess’ Happy Hotel. Brought to you by your local Radio Man…”

Greetings and salutations, one and all! I’m Midnight, and this is my Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss Rewrite Blog! I’ll be sharing my Hazbin redesigns as well as my entire AU rewrite of it and Helluva Boss, as well as occasionally discussing the source material as well.

A few Tidbits and/or Rules to Get us Started:

- Please no harassment! I’m not a huge fan of Vivziepop or Spindlehorse as a whole, but I ask that you please don’t send harassment towards me or the OG creators regarding anything I say here. I’m just an artist who wants to share my thoughts on a piece of media I used to like a lot.

- For my own comfort and because it allows me a little more creative freedom imo, I’ll be creating an original underworld mythology, with original figures, for these rewrites. They may take inspo from aspects of Christian mythology, but they will not follow them to a T.

- Feel free to send me any questions or constructive criticism regarding my stories and/or designs! I love talking about the thoughts behind my work, and I know my designs aren’t perfect.

- Some of the art I post here (such as screenshot redraws) won’t be 100% canon to my rewrite, I just wanted to do them for fun. These will be appropriately tagged as for-fun artworks rather than canon!

- Despite some themes that the rewrite itself will address, I will NOT be posting any NSFW artwork! I don’t particularly enjoy that sort of thing at all.

Now, with those things out of the way…

Enjoy the show!

And stay tuned, folks.

#hazbin hotel au #hazbin critical #hazbin critique #helluva boss au #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #my art #myart

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ivy-diaries · 1 year

Text

⌗ kpop daebak show with Eric Nam (part two) !!

ᝰ era: unstoppable

ᝰ characters: Ivy & Eric Nam

ᝰ word count: 2.1k

ᝰ notes: done!! i hope everyone enjoyed it!! lmk if i got anything wrong!! stay hydrated <33

ᝰ taglist: lmk if you wanna be added !!

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, welcome to part two of catching up with ivy. So let's continue. We were talking about how you and yeonjun had met each other. Now let’s talk about your music. How does it feel, now that you are the producer, composer, lyricist and the mastermind behind all your songs? Does it feel different than before?” Eric turned to ivy as he asked her the question after the intro.

“Well for starters, it feels new. I’ve always had at least a person or two in my studio and they’d do the work and I'd just give suggestions but now I'm the one who’s completely responsible for what kind of music I put out. It's a bit burdensome. I won't lie but it gives me a lot of freedom.” she laughs before continuing. “I feel like I can play around with anything and everything until I find what I like before putting it out. And I have 3racha on the hotline so I can ask them any questions I have about producing. I remember I once called Han at like 3 am and he was like ‘what the hell do you want?’ I think he probably wanted to kill me." Eric joins in with his laughter before asking her, “it’s a relief that you have people you can reach out too then.” Ivy nodded, saying yes. Moving on from that, eric started, “we asked your fans, soleils, some questions for you to answer. Are you ready?” she nodded enthusiastically. “Okay, first question! ‘who is your fashion inspiration?’” eric asked her.

Ivy thought for a second before opening her mouth to answer, “honestly I draw inspiration from my everyday life. There isn’t anything particular that I can put a label on as my inspo. I sometimes look at yeonjun and get inspired, i listen to taylor swift and get an inspiration suddenly, i open pinterest and look at my board and randomly get up to choose an outfit for the day. So yeah it depends on many factors.” she concluded. Satisfied with her answer, eric nodded before looking at the iPad for the next question. “What is your favorite food ?” he asked her. “Hmm, to me, since i have very limited options as a vegetarian here but my all time favorite food has to be the tteokbokki that yeonjun’s mom makes. It tastes so good! Her food is my all time favorite after my moms of course. I think i visit her more than yeonjun sometimes haha” she laughs. “Oh yea! I wanted to ask you about that. How do you survive being a vegetarian here? It's really hard. I tried for some time and I went back to the states and I couldn't control it haha” Eric asks her and laughs. Chuckling, she started, “I was just brought up like that. I didn’t wake up one day and suddenly wanted to be a vegetarian. It's not that difficult for me in a sense that I don't find it difficult to not eat any meat but it’s pretty difficult to find vegetarian stuff here. There is not much vegetarian stuff available. And in that sense i'm really thankful to yeonjun’s mom because she tries a lot to make stuff vegetarian for me whenever i visit. It moves me to tears everytime. She’s always trying out new methods to make stuff edible for me and it really touches my heart.” she finishes.

Eric gave her a smile before reading the next question. “What is your description of the perfect date?” Eric asks, chuckling. “There is no such thing as a perfect date. You just have to make sure that the both of you don’t make each other uncomfortable if it’s the first one. But if it’s like a date with like your significant other, I would recommend that you do whatever that makes you both happy. A date should not be fun for only one person. Whatever you choose to do, make sure both of you have equal amounts of fun” she finished. Eric looked at her before asking her a question of his own. “Okay, this is my question. What is the best date that you have gone on?” she chuckled before answering him. “The first one that comes to mind is that one day when we both had the day off and we decided to not waste the day. We got up and we ate breakfast and just headed out. We went to art museums, we went cafe hopping, we had lunch and we walked out and about until sunset and we had a little picnic and we ended the night stargazing. It is the best date we’ve had. I won't lie haha” she laughed as Eric looked with adoration at her as she finished speaking. “That sounds like so much fun!! Okay now to the next question. What is your dream collab stage?” he asked her. She thought for a few seconds “i’d love to collab with Taylor swift. But we all know that’s not gonna happen haha. So realistically speaking, I'd love to have all my girl friends on an album or a song. Like I'm talking inka from stray kids, calista from enhypen, lua from ateez, and haewon from mask and many more people that if i start naming, i could go on forever haha.” she laughs as she finishes her sentence. Eric looks at her with an amused look and reads the next question. “What are your hobbies?” “hmm i’d say i love taking pictures that look really aesthetic. I have been using my old phone that I don't use anymore simply for taking pictures. And oh I love baking! If i’m not home, then i’m probably at the straykid’s dorm or the tubatu dorm baking with felix or soobin haha." She explains her hobbies and waits for Eric to ask her the next question. “What do you hate most in the world?” he asks her. “People not respecting boundaries. I really hate it when people cross boundaries they’re not supposed to cross. Like mainly in this industry where our privacy as idols are not respected. I know that as fans they want to know everything that happens in our life but people have to know where to stop. They have to understand that we can share only minute details of ourselves. They have to understand that it's the same feeling as someone randomly coming up to you in the streets and asking you to spill your deepest darkest secret.” she finished as Eric nodded, agreeing to her words. "Do you prefer cats or dogs?" He asks her the next question. Gasping, she places a hand dramatically on her chest. "You can't ask me to choose!! I know I have two dogs but I promised Inka that I will love cats the same as dogs!! I won't choose between my dogs and the words of other love of my life!!" Ivy says as Eric wheezes at her dramatic behavior next to her. She too chuckles when Eric tries to read the next question.

"What would you have done if you hadn't become an idol?" "That's a very interesting question. Hmm i haven't really given it much thought since from all i can remember from the age of 11 is that I've ever thought about is working hard to become an idol. But it really got to me when I was on break last time. I can't be doing this forever can i? I mean I'll continue being an idol as long as my body allows it and I have a passion for it. But I was thinking about what I will do next if I lose my passion for this. That's when I realized that I had to think of something else too. I think if i hadn't been an idol, I would've probably gone to college in the states and would've been working now. But I've always wanted to open a cafe so I would've probably done that. But I do plan on opening my own cafe one day though!! It's not just a dream of the past. It's a dream for the future too." Ivy finished as Eric looked at her like a proud father. "I really hope you achieve that dream of your jen!" He wished her as she thanked him silently before answering the next question.

"Who is the person you trust the most?" He asked her. Without any hesitation, she replied "mom, dad, my brother, my sister and yeonjun." Smiling at how quick she answered the question, Eric moved on to the next one. "Ooh this is a very interesting question. This fan asks 'since you debuted at such a young age, what were the pros and cons of it? How did you manage school?' " smiling at the question, "they always know what to ask haha." She laughed before answering it. "Of course the obvious pros that came out of it are getting a lot of fans that support me and love me for who i am. A lot of people come up to me saying that my music saved them or that they found me at their lowest and in one way or the other i helped them get out of it and these words really keep me up at night. Yes it was really hard debuting at that age but it's words like these that don't make me regret it. Although yes I do wish I could've debuted a bit later but i was desperate. I thought that if i didn't debut at that time then i couldn't debut at all. But all ended up being good. So I don't regret anything. And about how I managed school, it was tough. It really was haha I remember once when I was back from a music show at almost 2 am but I had a test the next morning so I stayed up preparing for it. I got a good result so it was all worth it but yeah managing school was tough. College was a lot easier though. I loved college." She finished. Eric looked at her with a look of sympathy as he read the next question. "If you had to pick a song to describe your life, what would it be?" "Hmm one song? It's hard choosing just one. Because I feel like there's a time in my life I could say "to my youth" fit the best and there's a time when I can say "blueming" fits perfectly. There was a time when- I can't say much about it but, a song in my upcoming album fit the best. So it's almost impossible to pinpoint one song. She replied. "Are you more of a sweet or savory eater?" Eric read the next question. "I am more of a sweet tooth. I love anything and everything sweet but I do crave savory quite a few times to balance it out. But the majority of the time, I'm a sweet tooth!" Ivy answered.

Suddenly Eric clapped his arms once startling the poor girl. Laughing at her, he says "it's the second to last question." Pouting, she whines at him about how she doesn't wanna go and wants to stay some more. Laughing at her antics, Eric reads out the question. "What's your dream destination?" "My dream destination is probably switzerland. I heard it's really beautiful and I've seen a few videos so I'd love to go there one day." Ivy smiled as she waited for the last question. Eric asked her, "which musical concept do you prefer and why? I feel like it's a good question to end" nodding, she replied. "Hmm I like a lot of concepts but I think I like fantasy and y2k concepts in kpop. But overall I love it when the music tells the artist's story. I love it." Sighing, Eric kept the iPad on the ground and sat up straight.

He could see ivy pouting and as he laughed at it, he said his closing ments and asked Ivy to say how she felt. "I felt so comfortable actually. It's so nice here, the ambiance is really good and you all are soo sweet!! I want to start a podcast here now! haha But anyways, I had such a great time. And it's been quite some time since I saw Eric oppa too so it felt really nice catching up and answering the questions! Thank you soo much for having me!! I'd love to be back one day!! Byeee" she said as the outro of the daebak show played.

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