#when no one else seemed to have the same??
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just a thought that i thought of after reading the angst fics 😖:
Pretend the guy who took her home was some rando she became close with at the bar, and that she told him about all her troubles and issues that she encountered with 141 recently. He comforted her and then they drank together yadayadayada he takes her home, the boys tuck her in despite them being mad, the cute “princess” moment, then morning.
When morning comes, they all talk it out, only catch is that now they’re back at square one when getting Reader to open up, and get intimate. Let alone even hug them.
Another catch is that they seemed more comfortable with literally anyone else BUT them. They all went out? Reader brings the guy friend to come along, then falls asleep on his shoulder accidentally, even though Gaz offered his shoulder first instead. They all are gonna cuddle and sleep in the same bed together and want Reader to join in? Reader opts for a plushed animal (The big plushies— Like a giant bear or shark) instead. It was like getting Ghost to let down his walls, just a little harder since instead of short answer “no’s” and grunts, they’d feel like they’re bullying Reader even though all they asked was want they want for breakfast.
Ex: *They all are talking, then Price turns to Reader* “Where do you wanna go out tonight, sweets?”
Reader: *literally sweating and looking at every other place thats not any of them, fiddling with their fingers as they mutter out a soft,* “Dunno.”
here’s a lil something something i’ve been thinking about
c/w: reader has trust issues, boys attempt to make amends, not a happy ending really but still more to come, panic, anxiety
it had been a stressful few weeks for you after that night at the bar
when the morning came, you woke up to find yourself in the centre of their bed. sheets all tangled with up in the knot of limbs made up by you and your lovers. heavy arms slung over your waist and sleeping faces smushed into the side of your neck
this may have been the norm for you a few weeks ago but with recent events, this makes you feel trapped. especially since you can’t recall the events of the previous night. your brain had switched off after your fourth daiquiri
you must have gotten hammered and crawled into the bed after hours, you think to yourself. must have gotten so lonely and desperate that you crawled into their bed. you have to get up and leave before they find you
you carefully pull their arms from you, untangling your legs with a painfully slow pace. no risky movements. when you think you’re just about to make it, you feel a strong arm snaking its way back around your waist and pulling you straight back into the flesh pile
“where’re you goin’, darlin’?” price grumbles in your ear, his prickly bread tickling your skin when he pushes his face back into the side of your neck. your eyes widen at the situation you’ve found yourself in
price perks up a bit, lifting his head when he feels you push at this arm wrapped around you like you want it off. he lifts his arm slightly for you. you twist and turn to get out of his grip, scrambling to your feet and watching him with a nervous expression
“woah, calm down. please don’t act like i’m going to hurt you, you know I’d never do that.” price says with a soft tone, hands out in surrender as you step away from the bed. he frowns at your skittery nature
“what happened last night? why am I in your room?” you ask, wrapping your arms around you for comfort. your hands feel soft cotton rather than the black silk you wore the night before and you look down to see one of soaps old band t-shirts, “did I put this on?”
the boys begin to stir awake at the sound of hushed voices. soft groans and joints clicking filling the room but you don’t take your eyes off of john’s. he seems sad, like you’ve just subtly devastated him
“you came home in a bit of a state so we bought you to bed. why’d you look so nervous, honey?” john coos, the rest of the boys are fully awake now, sat up and watching this scene unfold in front of them
feeling all those sets of eyes on you makes you close up, looking down at the floor and not saying a word. like you’re trying to make yourself small, hard to see and perceive
john climbs out of bed next, placing a gentle hand on the top of your head. “let’s go get something to eat, yeah? we all have a lot to talk about today.”
all you can do is stand rigid and stare at them with shock splattered on your face as they all climb out of bed, walk over to you and plant a kiss on your forehead before following john downstairs
you stare at the empty doorway for a few minutes before creeping downstairs, brow furrowed the whole time as you watch them move around in the kitchen. john grips your tense shoulders and nudges you into a seat before placing a cup of steaming hot coffee in front of you
johnny and kyle are setting the table, smiling at you and asking how you slept. playfully scolding you for drinking too much before popping a few painkillers in front of you. you feel like you’ve been placed in the middle of a tv sketch. like at any moment someone with a camera is gonna run out and tell you that you’re being punked
“how was your night out, darling? we see you made a new friend.” john gives you his classic close lipped smile, the one you used to tell him made him look like a quokka. you jerk away when you feel simon walk over, ruffle your hair and place a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you wordlessly
“uh… it was… fine.” you mumble, staring down at the ceramic bowl. kyle connects his phone to the speaker, letting the kitchen become filled with morning news reports and music as they cook breakfast. you barely touch the food they put in front of you, your paranoid brain telling you that something bad was about to happen
they fill the tables with plates full of food, all the fixings for me a full-english and more. fruit and pastries, jugs of freshly squeezed juice, courtesy of kyle and that ridiculously expensive juicer that he asked john to buy him. they start helping themselves to the food, piling their plates high whilst you just sit there anxiously, hands kept firmly in your lap
your coffee has since gone cold, only taking one sip to help you wash down the painkillers. you can’t take it anymore. you don’t like how normal they’re acting, as if they haven’t spent the past few weeks putting you through hell at home,
“need to do the food shop today. why don’t you come with me, princess? we’ll pick up some lunch and sit in the garden. the weather is-“ john begins talking but you just cut him off
“what the actual fuck are you talking about, john?” you blurt out, hand coming up to silence him. everyone stops eating and turns to look at you. “have you lost the plot? why are you acting like everything is just normal?”
“I ken it’s been a difficult few weeks for ye, hen but we just want-“ johnny begins to speak, a frown tugging at his lips as he reaches his hand across the table to grab yours. you snatch it away, looking at him like he was insane
“I don’t give a fuck what you want!” you scoff, snatching your hand away before he can touch you, “I don’t know what joke you lot are playing on me but it’s not funny. I can’t- I don’t- just fucking stop, okay!?”
you struggled to find your words for a moment before bursting out, your lip wobbling and eyes welling up before you stand from the table abruptly. you turn on your feet and storm upstairs, going straight to your room and slamming the door
the second the it’s closed you slide down the wooden door, tears falling from your eyes as you bury your face in your hand. meanwhile, downstairs the kitchen is silent. cutlery placed firmly on the table, untouched as all the boys comprehend the situation they’re in
“we fucked up.”
#mw2#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley#ghost#ghost x reader#captain john price#john price x reader#john price#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#john soap mctavish x reader#soap mactavish#soap#soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#soap call of duty#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost simon riley#john mactavish x reader
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[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader
Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.
Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending
“Are you married?”
He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.
“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.
He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.
The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.
It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?
He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.
No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.
He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.
I’m sorry.
The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.
Please stay.
The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.
Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.
He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.
Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.
His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.
Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.
I miss you so much.
but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.
That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.
You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.
He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.
The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.
You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.
“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.
“Hey.” He mumbles.
The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.
Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...
He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.
“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.
because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.
It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.
“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”
“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”
“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”
“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”
“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”
“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”
“Anything else you want to say?”
“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”
“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”
He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.
Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.
“My pleasure.”
a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j
#cod imagine#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#simon riley imagine#cod x you#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon 'ghost' riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader
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Not A Verstappen: Away We Go {2}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris
Summary: It seems as if everything you ever dreamed of is just within your reach. You got the guys and the baby, the only thing left is the seat.
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, fluff
WC: 3.3k
F1 Masterlist
NAV: Sibling Rivalry || One || Two || Three
NAV: Gridlocked || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine
NAV: A New World || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten
NAV: Lights Out || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine
NAV: Away We Go || One || Two
A giant raspberry sounded from the nursery, followed by a high pitch giggle and then two deeper laughs.
“Where do you think you are going?” Lando asked when Autumn rolled to her tummy and started to crawl away.
“Coming to papa, aren’t you, ma petite?”
Even with the door to the office closed you could hear their soft words as they played in Autumn’s room down the hall. It was hard to concentrate when you were torn between joining your family and completing the testing you were contracted for on the SIM but there were only 30 laps left of the session and the team needed the data. There may have only been three races left for the year but there were plenty of teams with vacant seats waiting to be filled. You understood negotiations took time and there were often conversations with multiple drivers being had at any one time but you were hopeful that at least one seat would be secured for you. The testing for Mercedes, Audi and Williams had been promising.
You finally shut down the SIM racer and left the office but found the nursery dark except for the moon and star mobile that softly glowed as it played a lullaby for Autumn who was fast asleep in her cot. Disappointment grated your resolution as you came to understand how Charles and Lando felt missing time with her when they went away for work, but you pushed it aside as you leant down and kissed her chubby cheek and whispered, “Sweet dreams, my love.”
Lando grinned when you found him in the kitchen making a drink and he instantly picked up on your mood. “Hi honey, how was work?”
You stuck your tongue out and stole the tea he had made as Charles joined you at the breakfast bar, the baby monitor placed in the middle. “When did she go to sleep?”
“About 10 minutes ago. We tried to keep her awake so she could sleep on the plane but she is like her daddy and loves her naps,” Charles said with a pointed look to Lando.
You rolled your tense shoulders after hours in the same position driving and moaned when Charles stood up and used his strong hands to massage them. “Fuck that feels good.”
“You know what else feels good?” Lando asked with a suggestive wink.
You tipped your head back to look up at Charles and found his eyes staring at your breasts with a hunger that could never be sated. “I have a few ideas…” he offered.
You checked your watch and calculated how long Autumn would likely nap for before letting your thoughts wander to the same place as theirs. A trail of clothes littered the hallway to the bedroom and you shoved the suitcases off the bed with little regard for the mess. Motherhood hadn’t diminished your sex drive like some people warned, but the time available was significantly less for said activities. So you made the most of the moments you could.
“Condoms,” you warned while you were still coherent enough to remember. The train of thought was quickly derailed when Lando caught you around the waist and tossed you across the blankets. In an instant he was there, nudging your thighs apart with his shoulders and burying his face between them.
Charles was more leisurely, taking his time and stroking his cock while he watched the two of you. His bottom lip swelled as he pinched it between his teeth until he needed to feel your bodies with the same urgency you felt the moment you saw either of them naked. His hands found your breasts that he had fallen more in love with and he delighted in the weight of them filling his palms. That wasn’t the only change to your body that he loved in the last seven months.
The effort put in with Kristian had paid off and you found breastfeeding absolutely burned through the calories, making it much easier than expected to return to a weight close to pre-pregnancy. He had helped you to get fit without compromising your body's ability to make milk but even toning your muscles couldn’t erase the stretch marks that littered your skin. You were no longer self-conscious of them, Charles and Lando had made sure of that months ago.
Charles’ kiss scorched your lips as he dominated your mouth, parting your lips with his tongue as you moaned against him. Your head fell back as you bared your throat for him, his teeth grazing your racing pulse as he kissed and nipped his way down your body. Your cunt tightened around Lando’s fingers as Charles’ tongue traced the silvery marks that forked like lightning across your hip. It was ticklish and torturous until Lando broke away to share the taste of you with Charles and you moaned at the sight.
“How are you feeling, mon amour?” Charles asked as you reached for them, stroking their hard lengths while their hands roamed your body.
“Impatient and greedy,” you answered with a needy whine when Lando purposefully missed your clit with his thumb.
“I think she wants us,” Lando teased while Charles reached for the box of condoms.
“It does appear that way,” he replied with a chuckle, rolling the latex sheath down his length. “But does she want us both at the same time?”
Your lips parted with a moan at the idea and their eyes darkened until you could hardly see any colour around their dilated pupils. “Please…”
Lando grabbed your hips and rolled, taking you with him until you ended up straddling his waist and he looked up happily. “Hello, beautiful. Do you come here often?”
“Not as much as I would like,” you giggled, but it turned to a moan as he lifted you over his cock and let you sink down on him.
“Putain,” Charles swore softly as he watched you rock your hips and ride Lando. Unable to resist joining in, he straddled Lando’s legs and lined himself up with your body, easing slowly inside as you froze. “Are you okay?”
You couldn’t put into words just how much more than okay you were but you managed to moan and nod.
“She’s good,” Lando confirmed with a strained laugh as he forced himself to stay still while you adjusted to having the both of them seated inside you. It took all his strength not to thrust up like he wanted to, but he didn’t want to hurt you. “Just take it slow, baby.”
Your muscles began to relax and your breathing returned to normal. The strain in your core eased and you slowly began to set the rhythm until the pleasure grew stronger and your body was ready. Moans filled the room and your nails dug into Lando’s chest as your walls fluttered as you fucked yourself against them. Charles reached around your body and cupped your breasts that grew heavy in his touch, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipples until they began to leak.
“Fuck,” Lando moaned at the mess they made of you. Your jaw hung slack and your eyes fluttered shut as your cunt tightened around him. Creamy milk ran in rivulets down your flesh and pooled on his abdomen and he grabbed your waist, tightening his grasp so he could fuck you harder. He could barely think, barely breathe when you drove him wild with the need to fill your cunt with his seed. Lando’s back arched off the bed, lifting you with his as he cried out with his release. His heart hammered in his chest beneath your palms and his cock pulsed inside you, filling the condom.
“God, that felt good, too good,” he chuckled as he swiped a thumb over your nipple and licked the drop of milk he collected. “Hmmm, so sweet.”
“They are very full,” you admitted somewhat shyly, having missed feeding Autumn before her nap.
“I can help you with that,” he offered with a smirk and your body gave you away as it clenched around their cocks.
—
Charles and Lando were still showering when you heard Autumn on the baby monitor. Rushing around the room, you gave up on drying off properly and tossed a robe around your damp body instead.
“Hello, my littlest love,” you greeted her happily. Light flooded the room as you opened the blockout blinds and found her standing inside her cot, her grabby hands reaching through for you. “I hope you had the sweetest dreams.”
Bright green eyes looked up as you reached down to pick her up and the smile she gave made your heart stutter. The twin dimples were set deep in her round cheeks and the pure joy on her face brightened your day. You still couldn’t believe how lucky you were to call her yours.
You boyfriends must have finished showering as a delicious scent wafted in from the kitchen and you quickly changed Autumn. “Shall we go see what papa is making for lunch?”
Charles was already placing a plastic bowl of fresh cut fruit beside the high chair but Autumn had no interest in that when she saw your plate of stroopwafels.
“Just like her mama,” Charles chuckled, placing a second plate down for Lando who emerged from the bedroom half dressed.
“Have you seen my shirt?”
“You’re going to have to narrow that down,” you commented after swallowing a mouthful of waffles.
“McLaren one.”
“That doesn’t exactly help, mon cher.”
He waved a hand dismissively before he spied the papaya coloured material in the living room. A corner of the sleeve peeked out from the soft play toys overflowing from the storage box and Lando dug it out with a laugh.
“See, she wants to join the papaya army,” he said as he sniffed it before pulling it on.
“Why don’t you get a clean one?”
Lando frowned and looked down to see if there were any marks. “It is clean.”
“Men, honestly,” you muttered to Autumn, only to notice she had stolen a stroopwafel while you weren’t looking. “Hey, that’s mine. You’re lucky you’re cute, missy.”
Charles joined you at the table and reached for one too but you smacked his hand out of the way. “Am I not cute too?” he asked with a pout.
You cradled his jaw and brushed a thumb over his pouting lip before giving him a kiss. “Baby, there’s many things I would call you before calling you cute. Handsome, sexy, love of my life-”
He cut you off with a kiss, his arm snaking around your body to pull you onto his lap. “Sorry, keep going, amour.”
You blinked twice as you tried to remember what you were doing but he was still distracting you with his lips on your neck. “I lost my train of thought now.”
“Cover your eyes, baby girl,” Lando gasped dramatically. “Papa is being naughty.”
“If papa wasn’t naughty she wouldn’t be here,” you pointed out with a smirk.
“Would having another be so bad?”
You practically jumped off Charles’ lap and wagged a finger at him when he shared a conspiratorial look with Lando.
“Not happening.” You closed your robe tighter to prove the point and crossed your arms over the thick material. “You two can keep it in your pants until those thoughts are looong gone.”
You left them to get dressed and returned in a pair of sweatpants and a stolen hoodie, the attempt to hide your body only making them laugh more. “You do realise I get turned on when you wear my clothes,” Lando pointed out as he tugged the cord, closing the hoodie around your face. With only your lips visible through the hole he stole a kiss and buried his hands in the back pocket on the sweatpants, squeezing your ass. “Forgive me yet, baby?”
“No,” you grumbled, but the way your body leaned into his contradicted the word.
Light burst back into your vision as Charles pulled the hood back and he tugged you out of Lando’s arms. “We have a flight to get ready for and 20 hours is a long time to have blue balls, mon cher.”
“I just wanted a cuddle,” Lando groaned. Charles gave him a look that said he clearly didn’t believe him and Lando turned away to free Autumn from the high chair. “Come on, princess, it’s just you and me against the world.”
–
The toddler earmuffs swamped Autumn’s head but they seemed to work as she slept soundly strapped to Lando’s chest in a front pack. It was way past her bedtime and it probably would have been best to return to the hotel and put her in the travel cot but you wanted to be with Lando and Charles for the race. Being back at the track where Lando crashed left all of you unsettled but he calmed down best with Autumn in his arms.
“This late night schedule is so messed up. There’s still four hours to go. What are we meant to do in the meantime?” Charles asked as he checked his phone again for the schedule of pre-race events.
“We could get married, well not legally get married, but nothing says we can’t have the ceremony,” Lando said as he pointed to the paddock chapel: Race to the Altar. “What do you say?”
“Romantic,” you chuckled, watching Charles as he dragged a hand down his face in dismay. “But it’s the thought that counts. Why not?”
“Wait, really?” Lando gaped, unsure if you were playing with him or serious.
You shrugged and looked at Charles. “We already have the baby and you guys already called me your wife.”
“She makes a good point,” he admitted, a smile growing as he looked at Lando. “So?”
Lando’s brows lifted and for a second he was lost for words. “I mean, yeah, let’s just go get married. Why not? Let’s fucking do this. You aren’t joking right?”
“You asked me,” you laughed. “Backing out already?”
“No, absolutely not. We are doing this,” he said with a nod. “But, uh, should we call anyone?”
Max was in the paddock, so was your mother and Lando’s father, but other than that most of your families hadn’t been able to make the trip.
“How about we do this on our own?” you suggested as you continued along the path towards the Chapel. “Maybe we can have a proper celebration during the break? We don’t even have rings.”
“They actually have themed rings, they are mini Pirelli’s,” Lando said as he showed his phone after a quick google search.
“Yikes, we are not getting the C5 - that just won’t last.”
“Aw, don’t like it soft, baby?”
“C1 all the way,” you said with a flirty wink, “go hard or go home.”
Charles laughed along with Lando. “How about full wets, no?”
“Now you’re talking. Maybe she can wear Wet and we can have Hard’s.”
“No, thank you. When we get home we can get proper rings made for us.”
The guys still debated getting the Pirelli themed rings in the meantime, until you threatened a quick divorce. It didn’t take much convincing for the minister to make a three way wedding but in Vegas that was probably one of the more sedate requests he had received.
“There are some suits in the changing room if you want,” he offered, jutting a thumb to the room behind him. “A dress too, ma’am.”
Lando looked down at his McLaren shirt and Charles did the same with his Ferrari. “If you are half as loyal to me as you are to your team then I am one lucky lady,” you chuckled before nodding to the minister. “We are fine as we are, thank you.”
“Okey dokey, then let’s get started. Do you have any vows prepared?” He took the silence as a no and clicked his tongue. “No matter, I have the basics. Just fill out these forms and I’ll take a copy of your ID.”
“This isn’t going to be legal though,” Charles confirmed with a frown.
“Not technically,” he said with a shrug, “but I can still fill out the paperwork and give you a copy for keepsake. Call it ‘the experience’.”
You liked the idea of having marriage certificates and you already knew where you were going to hang the framed copies in the bedroom. It was painful having to complete three forms though, one for your ‘marriage’ to Lando, one to Charles and then a third for Lando and Charles’ ‘marriage’ to each other.
“Repeat after me,” the minister said, reading the standard vows you had seen in every movie.
“I, Y/N L/N, take you both, Lando Norris and Charles Leclerc, to be my husbands, to have and to hold this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” Your lip began to wobble as the ceremony began to feel real and it was no longer just a fun way to pass time. This is what you wanted, to have both of these men for eternity, and you couldn’t stop from adding, “And if I go first, just know that I will wait forever if I have to until we meet again because this life together will never be long enough. Now please say something funny before I really start crying.”
Lando choked a laugh and wiped his eyes. “I, Lando Norris, take you, Y/N L/N, to be my wife, and you, Charles Leclerc, to be my husband to have and to hold this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part. I also promise to be your biggest fan and support you through every win and DNF life throws at us, and do your laundry.”
Your laugh cracked with a sob and you looked at Lando through watery vision before turning to Charles.
“I, Charles Leclerc, take you, Y/N L/N, to be my wife, and you, Lando Norris, to be my husband to have and to hold this day forward,” he sniffled and wiped away the tears that escaped before he could continue. “When we met we were rivals, threatened by each other's talent, but when we fell in love we were racers who respected one another. Today, I get to marry my best friends and I promise to always be there to help you achieve your dreams and help us grow together as our journey continues to eternity. And I promise to always put our family first…Ferrari a close second.”
“Forza Ferrari,” the minister murmured with a small supportive nod before he reached for the box of tissues under the dais he stood beside. He gave you a moment to dry your eyes before he smiled. “Then by the power vested in me by the State of Nevada, I now pronounce you, husband and wife, and husband.”
A stupid giddy laugh escaped and you didn’t bother waiting to hear the next part as you threw your arms around your husband’s and kissed them. It felt like you were floating away with the surrealness of the situation as you signed the documents and they were handed off to an assistant that just arrived. It had been less than half an hour since Lando had suggested it and then suddenly you were holding three laminated sheets of paper meticulously detailing a wedding as if it were legal.
“We need to get back to the hotel now,” you said as you held the documents close to your chest.
“Consummation time,” Lando winked.
“I won’t have my first time as a married woman be a quickie, thank you,” you tutted. “These are going straight in the safe before anyone sees them and it gets leaked. Max would probably kill us for not inviting him.”
“I’m glad you are included this time. Usually it’s only us getting death threats from him,” Charles teased before checking his phone. “We should have time to drop it off and get back before the media interviews begin.”
#charles leclerc fanfic#lando norris fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris x reader#f1 fanfic#lando norris imagine#charles leclerc imagine#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#f1 x y/n
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“Don’t cry.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.
requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!
warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??
Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?
One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.
Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.
But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.
You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.
Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.
“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”
“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”
“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.
The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.
“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”
He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.
“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”
“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”
You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.
“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”
You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”
He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.
“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”
“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”
You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”
He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.
“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.
“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”
You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”
“Yes, you do.”
It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.
You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.
“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.
“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”
Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”
“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”
Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”
“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”
Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”
“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”
“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”
“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”
“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.
“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”
He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.
“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.
“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.
“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”
“Fuck me, then leave.��� You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”
Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.
He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.
“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”
You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.
“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.
“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”
You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”
He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”
You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.
“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”
It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson angst#requests#stranger things#stranger things season four#joseph quinn#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson blurb
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i love you, it’s ruining my life
azriel x cassian’s sister!reader - part 1 of 3
summary: it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you weren’t supposed to be your brother’s best friend’s mate, especially when that best friend is the same male who’s acted like you don’t exist for the last two centuries.
warnings: angst, very brief mentions of violence and abuse, azriel is oblivious and reader is angry, not much pining in this part mainly just angsty
A single band of golden thread, stretched from your soul, reaching out into an abyss. There was seemingly no end to the thread, no definite stop, just a shadowy mess that sent the thread into a disarray as it reached for your mate.
Your mate. The male who had spoken maybe a full sentence to you a handful of times in the last few centuries. The male who was best friends with your brother, and acted as if you didn’t even exist.
Even in your younger years in Windhaven, it seemed Azriel didn’t even know you were there. Like you were a ghost, invisible to him in every sense of the word.
Azriel didn’t ever really speak to anyone, though, so it wasn’t like you were an exception, he treated you like most everyone else. But you never had been able to shake the fact that he would nearly sprint out of a room if you were the only one in it, or that he would refuse to look you in the eyes when you spoke at dinner. It was like he couldn’t even stand the thought of being in the same vicinity of you, like he couldn’t stomach talking to you.
And you were now bound to him, for the rest of eternity.
The bond had snapped for you immediately upon seeing the state of Azriel when they returned from Hybern without Feyre, when the entirety of their plan had gone up in flames, with Azriel in the main path of destruction.
Seeing him in so much pain tugged at your heart, nearly ripping it out of your chest when you saw how ruined his wings were. It affected you so much that you ran out of the room when they first arrived, partially because of how much it hurt you to see him like that, and partially because of how distraught the bond snapping into place had immediately made you feel. You couldn’t bear to see your mate in so much pain, and you knew you didn’t trust yourself to be around when they inevitably put him into more pain while healing him.
You kept to yourself for weeks after their arrival, only speaking to Rhysand and your brother when need be.
Rhys was the first one to find out about your dilemma.
He called you into his study weeks later to talk about a mission, one he needed you specifically on for your daemati skills. While he explained the details, he could tell your mind was elsewhere, so much so that you couldn’t even stop him from getting past the pure obsidian wall you’d built up in your mind, the wall you never let anyone break down until that moment.
Rhysand had given you a hesitant look when he stopped explaining the tasks in order to peer into your mind and capture your attention. He didn’t want to pry, only to get your mind focused by scaling his talon down the obsidian wall, which to his surprise collapsed before he could even attempt to breach it. But you nodded when he silently asked to see what had been keeping you so on edge, what had stopped you from helping Madja out with taking care of Azriel when they returned from Hybern, what had stopped you from engaging in conversation at dinner as of late.
A vision of a golden thread shrouded in black and gray shadows was sent to Rhys’ mind, along with a memory of exactly the moment you had been struck with the bond.
“Have you told him?” he implored, though he seemed to already know the answer.
You couldn’t even speak at that point, only shaking your head in response as tears brimmed your eyes when you thought of how fucked up it was to be bonded to someone who’d barely acknowledged you in the hundreds of years you’d known him.
Rhys gave you a sympathetic look then, knowing the feeling of an unrequited bond all too well.
You promised him about a thousand times that you wouldn’t let him find out, that you wouldn’t let the agony and sadness get in the way of the mission. You could prove yourself worthy and able to go on without thinking about how you might never get an accepted bond, you assured him that you could. He was still unsure when he agreed to let you go on the mission, but it was miniscule enough that any lapses in judgment wouldn’t be detrimental, so he agreed.
And you proved yourself, just like you said you would. You proved yourself over and over again with Rhysand’s missions, building up your mental shields stronger than they ever had been before. So strong, that the High Lord himself had a hard time cracking through them.
You became a shell of what you were before seeing your mate in that near-death state, but you didn’t care. You needed to distract yourself in any way, shape or form that you could in order to forget about him, to forget that he’d never even taken a second glance in your direction.
It got to the point where you became so shut off from reality that even Cassian, your brother known for paying no mind to female emotions, started to notice.
You caught Cassian giving you inquisitive stares a handful of times during training and at dinners when your attitude was exceptionally reserved and demure, but never thought he would actually say anything to you.
That was until he finally snapped, on the first dinner with Feyre back in Velaris, which just so happened to be the first dinner that Azriel joined in the weeks after Hybern.
You nearly fell out of your seat when you saw him in all his glory. There he was, standing at the end of the table, as beautiful as ever. He was almost fully healed, aside from a few scars littered over the membrane of his wings.
Excited chatter filled the room as he entered, everyone falling into their rightful place in the Inner Circle, along with the newest members, Nesta and Elain. Though you were one of the longest standing members of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, you felt the most out of place in that moment.
The wine you’d been sipping churned in your stomach as you eyed the shadowsinger, who was sitting quietly across the table from you. You couldn’t handle it, knowing that he was your mate and he had no clue. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him finding out, of him potentially rejecting the bond.
After a moment of silently wallowing in your self pity, you felt that familiar talon scrape along your mental shield. Rhys was requesting access to your mind, likely to give you some insight about this unrequited feeling based on his own experience.
You rejected his request instead of letting him in, shooting him a quick glance before standing up abruptly, quietly excusing yourself with the reasoning that you weren’t feeling well.
You rushed up the stairs, toward your bedroom all the while feeling like you were drowning. You needed air, fresh air, now. It was in that moment that you thanked the Cauldron for Rhysand putting you in the bedroom with a large balcony, one perfect for moments like this.
Little did you know, your brother had stalked up the stairs behind you, worried after seeing the panic-stricken look on your face before bolting from the room.
You didn’t bother to close your bedroom door behind you, leaving Cassian the perfect opportunity to come in to check on you. You were out on the balcony in an instant, nearly gasping for air as the cool night breeze hit your face.
“Hey,” Cassian called behind you, standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom. “You alright?”
“I don’t want to talk right now, Cass.” you retort quickly, shooting a glare in his direction before leaning over the metal railing as he furrows his brow. “I obviously don’t feel great at the moment.”
“Yeah, no shit. But that doesn’t warrant you snapping at me when all I’m doing is coming to check on you,” he presses, taking a step onto the balcony to stand by you. “It doesn’t warrant you ignoring me for fucking weeks now.”
“What do you want me to say, Cassian?” you snap, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I—I don’t really know what kind of explanation you need from me, I just haven’t been in a talking mood these last few weeks.”
“Oh, bullshit.” he says, shaking his head at you. “I see you chatting with Rhys and Mor all the fucking time. You’re only shutting me out. What the fuck did I do?”
You take a moment to look up at your brother, finally seeing the hurt sketched across his features as he pleads with you, trying desperately to get through to you.
“You didn’t do anything.” you sigh, letting your guard down as you realize how much you’d hurt your twin in the last few weeks. “I—I just am going through some shit right now.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” he says, nudging your arm with his elbow as a relieved but hesitant smile passes over his face. “I’m always here to lend an ear.”
“Are you sure?” you say, voice cracking as you internally accept that you’re about to change everything in Cassian’s life with four simple words.
“Positive.” Cassian says, smile still on his face as he grips your shoulder to reassure you.
“Azriel is my mate.” you say bluntly, watching in silent terror as your brother’s face falls and so does his hand from your shoulder. “And he has no idea.”
——————————————————————
That was almost two years ago.
Cassian took the news quite well, and became your biggest supporter when it came to dealing with the hardships of an unrequited mating bond. Even as he dealt with his own unrequited bond for a short amount of time, he still made sure to make it known that he still cared for and understood the pain you were going through.
And now that the war against Hybern had been won, you could focus all your energy into training and missions Rhys would send you on.
Rhysand knew you preferred to be sent on solo missions, that you worked better alone without anyone disrupting your focus. But, there were some missions that couldn’t be done alone.
“You–This is a joke, right?” you say with a laugh, narrowing your eyes at the High Lord who sat across the desk in his office, raising his eyebrow at you as you laugh. “I work alone, Rhys.”
“I know you work best alone, but sometimes I can’t send you alone,” Rhys starts, giving you a sharp glare as you start to stand from your chair, “I can’t send you alone, not on this one.”
“Why?” you pressed, pushing off the arms of your chair to move closer to the desk. “You haven’t even told me what I’m doing or where I’ll be going yet, so why should I even agree to it without knowing?”
The look the High Lord was giving you made you uneasy, turning your stomach in knots, but you persisted. You needed him to stop treating you like you were made of glass, like you would break, like you hadn’t been training with Cassian since you could stand.
“I’m not a child anymore, Rhys.” you snapped, hands balling into fists as they pressed against the oak of his large desk. “I can handle whatever it is, without Azriel babysitting me.”
“I really don’t know–”
“Are you trying to torture me?” you interject, a pained expression crossing over your face, one of betrayal at the feeling of one of your longest friends trying to put you in such an uncomfortable position when he knows exactly what you’ve been dealing with over the last two years. “Are you trying to make me suffer, do you want me to –”
“I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys finally commanded, voice wavering slightly as he brought up the place you once called home, the place he knew would send you regressing into a lesser version of yourself. “I need you to go there, with Azriel.”
The mention of Windhaven sent a shiver down your spine, wings twitching in fear as you thought about the horrors you endured in your final years at the camp. Your sharp gaze flickered for a split second, mind running back to that cabin, to the flash of wings and clawing hands, to the male who did irreparable damage to your soul, to the moment you swore you’d never let a male hurt you again. With a shake of your head, you block the thoughts out, pressing that black obsidian wall back up to prevent yourself from breaking.
“I’ll be fine on my own.” you say, putting your stern persona back into place, trying to make it seem as though you’re unbothered.
“I need to send him with you, someone needs to watch your back.” he insists while shaking his head as his gaze softens, trying to get you to break from your hardened facade.
“What about Cass?” you retort, shaking your head.
“He’ll be in Spring, he’s got business with Tamlin and Eris to attend to for me.” he quickly replies, shaking his own head. “Please, I need you to do this.”
“I–I can’t.”
“Is the thought of being alone with me for two days that bad?” a voice comes from behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin.
Your mate, just the person you didn’t want to see right now.
You whip around quickly at the sound of his voice, brow furrowed as you see him standing in the doorway. It takes everything in you not to sigh at the sight of him, at how damn good he looked, just standing there. You cursed yourself internally, wishing you could think about anything else besides how much you pined for him. Still, you had an image to uphold, an image of distaste for the beautiful shadowsinger standing in front of you.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, shadowsinger.” you snap, shooting a glare in his direction that sends a pang of guilt running down the one-sided bond.
“I’m sorry?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, his face the poster child for cool composure as your rage boils in front of him.
“You can barely stand to be in the same room for me for more than five minutes,” you state, crossing your arms matter-of-factly. “You quite literally leave any space in the house when I’m the only other person around.”
The thought of your mate, the one who was supposed to be at your side for all of eternity, leaving the room any time you entered made your blood boil and chest ache. You ached for him, you ached to feel his touch, to be loved by him. But he didn’t care about you, didn’t care if you lived or died.
Seeing the anger in your eyes made Azriel stop in his tracks, something unfamiliar tugging at his heart as you seethed. There was a gnawing feeling in his chest as he thought about the last five hundred years, how he never paid you any mind.
The truth was, he avoided you with every bit of willpower he had in order to restrain himself. He couldn’t be around you for more than a few moments without your overpowering scent filling his nose feeding his desire to tear you apart. Every time he was with you alone, he wanted to tear down any walls that he had and just have at you, to have you as his. He wanted you carnally, he wanted all of you, all of the time.
But that wasn’t the kind of male he was. He would never do such a thing to Cassian, his best friend. He couldn’t let himself have you just to fulfill his deepest desires, you deserved so much more than to be some one night fling. You deserved to be loved and cared for, to be protected at all costs.
So he had ignored you, for almost five fucking centuries, because he thought he couldn’t give you what you deserved. He pushed out any thought he had about you, pushed away the urge to pursue you in any way, and pushed you away in the process. He knew you well from watching from afar, but to you it seemed as though you were the last thought in his mind, when in reality, you were the only thought in his mind at all times.
“That’s not–” Azriel started, but the words fell on his lips as he watched your own pull into a frown, an expression that was much more broken than the anger that had crossed over your face when he snuck in.
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought, you prick.” you said weakly, finally letting your emotions get the better of you. As tears pricked your eyes, you turned to Rhys once more. “I will not be going anywhere with him. I will be going by myself, or not at all. I am strong enough to do this on my own and I’m tired of being treated like a child in this court.”
Rhys only stared at you as you stalked towards the desk once again, watching as your hands shook with pain. He showed no change in emotion as you spoke, fully in High Lord mode instead of the Rhysand you knew and loved.
“I will be in my room, packing. When you’re done being a stubborn male and realize that I can do whatever the hell it is you need me to do, I’ll be waiting for further instructions.” you state, trying to choke back the tears that are threatening to flow onto the wood in front of your hands.
The High Lord nods firmly in response, and you turn on your heels. Azriel is still standing in the doorway, but you don’t dare to look at him. You push past the shadowsinger, swiping your cheeks hastily as tears fall down them. As you pass, your wing brushes his in the lightest of touches. You swallow a gasp as they touch, a shockwave flowing through your wing and going straight to your heart.
Azriel turns to gaze at you with wide eyes and you immediately know he felt it too. He felt the shock, the electricity between your wings, but not in the way you did. Not down the one-sided, golden bond that stretched toward him.
Confusion spread over his face as he looked at you, but you turned away and rushed towards your room before he could fully process what happened.
The rest of your afternoon was spent alone in your room, laying on your bed for most of the night as you stared up at the ceiling. You cursed yourself internally over and over again, wishing there were some way to change everything, some way to make you forget that you even had a mate.
Over and over again, you told yourself how you weren’t worthy of the immeasurable love that came with a mate, how you would never be good enough for Azriel.
It had always been like that for you, though. The feeling of inadequacy was a daily occurrence for you, it wasn’t a secret. Cassian knew it, and so did Rhysand, so you’re sure Azriel did too. You worked day in and day out trying to prove that you were worthy to your brother and the High Lord and everyone around you, regardless of the pain you put yourself in.
Rhysand knew you too well, and knew that you were all too serious about going on the mission by yourself, or at least without Azriel. After you left his office, he’d tried to speak to Cassian about accompanying you, but it was of no use, he was preoccupied. He didn’t want you to go by yourself, he knew you’d be scared just by being in Windhaven again, but he also knew that you being the one to go on this mission was the only hope.
Your untraceable daemati skills were an impeccable weapon that couldn’t be replaced by Azriel’s shadows or Cassian’s brute force. Even the High Lord himself didn’t have daemati powers as stealthful as yours, so you were the best option when it came to figuring out who was trying to rebel.
After much contemplation, Rhys eventually sent a concise and firm message to your mind.
I need you in Windhaven by dinner tonight, Devlon will be expecting you to be there. There are a few Illyrians that I need you to check in on while you’re there, Cass told me there are talks of rebellion led by Cormac and Bavlard. he explained, you should only need to be there for tonight to gather enough information, but plan to stay until tomorrow evening in case we need more intel. You’ll stay in the cabin as usual, I’ll be in contact regularly to check on you, since you’ll be on your own this time.
The last sentence had a smile flickering on your lips, happy that Rhysand was finally taking you seriously as a member of his Inner Circle and trusting you enough to send you on missions by yourself. Luckily, you were already packed so it didn’t take much for you to get ready to go.
In less than an hour, you were dressed in your fighting leathers and on the balcony of your room. You waste no time in flying from the house, large wings spreading for the first time in what feels like forever as you make for the sky.
The breeze against your skin makes you sigh with joy, trying to enjoy the twinge of happiness that flying gives you as you make your way towards the place you once called home, the place you now call hell.
taglist: @paleidiot @tothestarsandwhateverend @impossibelle
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Hi! I'm a fan of your yan! Hero/reincarnated reader and I would like to ask if you could write a scenario where the reader has reincarnated again but this time instead of running away they just stay in the village, and in this life, Tasman doesn't end up searching for the reader because they haven't left the village. Because of this, the reader just stays in the village and just so happens to start a relationship with a kind farm boy.
So while Tasman is out marrying another mermaid/fairy queen/princess, the reader is just having the time of their life on a large farmhouse with their new lover. By the time Tasman finds out it's too late because he's already married and it would ruin his reputation if he ever decided to leave his wife for a (now married to a farm boy) reader because while he will stay a hero he won't be as respected by the kingdom for leaving a kind and respected woman, then trying to go for a married woman.
Reputation? Respect?? What does he care what the kingdom thinks of him when he’s the only thing standing between them and world devastation? The only reason he’s morally “good” in the eyes of the kingdom is because they follow the goddess’s teachings which so happens to be who he’s blessed by. The crimes he commits always have something to do with you so there is a much greater chance that you receive the backlash for his unhero like behavior than he does. They can’t hurt him, both because they physically can’t and they need to remain on his good side so they don’t die. But, you? They can hurt you.
In one of the realities he makes a deal with the king to legally imprison you so others turn a blind eye to his not so moral actions. A deal they’re willing to make if it’s for the greater good, ya know?
Tasman doesn’t care about other people. He barely considers them people. The only reason he plays nice and doesn’t take advantage of his supernatural abilities is because he believes it would be too much of a headache to completely upend life as you know it. He keeps up appearances of the righteous hero so he can comfortably do whatever he wants. The only person whose opinion matters to him is yours, though it doesn’t seem to mean much when your wants and desires stray from a future where the two of you are together or you’re alone.
TW: suggests death
—
The cicadas always seemed to scream the loudest right before the sun pierced the horizon.
A feverish kiss was shared right before a frantic embrace as promises of his quick return caressed your ears. You held each other like it was the last time you’d ever get to.
You promised you’d wait.
Unwanted tears flooded your eyes and you couldn’t help but feel selfish because you knew why he had to go. To want him to stay by your side when he was destined for something greater, the destined savior that would be revered when his mission was successful, because it had to be successful. Because he was going to return to you.
So you let him go.
Waiting long after his caravan disappeared from the dirt paved road, you remembered his words, his vow. It was enough to ease the burden on your heart for now. It had to be.
Life was never quite the same without him.
The first year, you’d look to every corner as if he’d appear, every closed door as if you were waiting for him to burst through and wrap his arms around you and promise something new. That he’d never leave you now that his mission was fulfilled.
It was a hope that was too soon.
You felt anxious the second year. Attempting to live as if such desperate yearning wasn’t what consumed your mind the minute you opened your eyes. You worked, ate, slept, moved through life as if someone else was living for you.
By the third, your loneliness had reached a peak. It was suffocating. His memory, the touches that no longer lingered, words that you’d play over and over in your mind to convince yourself to trust him. To trust that he was coming back. To chase away the anger that would turn into guilt, knowing full well why he couldn’t visit you. You’d convinced yourself that sending letters would compromise his position. That he would if he could, but fighting the demon king was already too much of a burden. You didn’t want to strain him further with your selfish expectations. You’d wait. You’d waited this long, you could wait a little longer.
The fourth was bright with celebration. It rekindled a new hope in you as people praised him, thanked him, worshipped the ground he walked on for saving you from the disaster. Joy was bright in everyone’s faces as they danced and laughed now that the dark cloud had finally lifted. You clasped your hands together, fingers fidgeting as you looked along the horizon, waiting. Almost every day you waited, impatient but understanding that there was probably plenty he had to do now that the war was over. He couldn’t just rush back to you. So you waited. Long after the sun disappeared. Long before the cicadas grew so loud you couldn’t bear to think.
You were treated like a widow.
Five years had passed with no word. People tried to be careful whenever they discussed the boy who’d grown up in this town. Everyone knew the relationship the two of you had, which is why they were especially careful when mentioning his marriage. Occasionally someone would slip up and you couldn’t help the flinch that would rip through your body.
You couldn’t understand. You waited. You did what you said you’d do, so why? Did the promise the two of you made mean nothing? You couldn’t help the days you locked yourself in your room, unable to bear the heartbreak drenched in grief.
The town was quiet on nights like those. Grateful for the cicadas that almost drowned that haunting wail.
It was too soon to think about a new relationship.
Sure, it had been six years since you’d last seen him, but you still felt an ache in your soul and it was too new of a wound to hide with friendly smiles.
He was someone you’d grown up with. He was well aware of your relationship with Tasman. It made it even harder. You don’t know why you accepted his offer to go out on a date. Maybe it was the persistence or if you had grown tired of hurting with no relief.
You wondered if it would remind you of him. If you’d compare the two, and you were right. But he was nothing like Tasman. The more time you spent with him, the easier it was to recognize he was nothing like your first love.
It was a relief.
For the first time you thought, maybe you could move on.
You began to smile again. He pointed it out on one of your dates. The two of you would often camp out wherever the sun shined the brightest, content to feel its ray on your skin as you held each other and talked. His observation didn’t cause the knee jerk reaction you thought it would.
The raging pain from memories of who you were before. The dull ache you carried that seemed to sting a little less with each passing day.
You looked at him and finally realized what he meant to you.
The man who brought back your smile. The one who helped you realize your would had scarred nicely.
It wasn’t much. He couldn’t offer you the world, but what he did offer was worth more. He was kind and thoughtful, he listened, and his flaws touched you a lot deeper than you thought capable. There was no question, no hesitation when he asked you to marry him.
For the first time, you truly began to remember what happiness felt like.
It happened during the night. On a day you would never have assumed would hold as much importance as it did.
Your eyes were forced open as a violent cough racked through your body. Sitting up from the bed, you felt a pounding in your skull.
It was supposed to be night. A strange uneasiness crept in your body at how bright your room was.
You climbed out of bed when you realized he wasn’t laying next to you, shuffling to the window and feeling your heart stop at the sight of the barn. It was engulfed in flames.
You screamed his name as you ran down the stairs, knowing he would’ve woken you if he realized something was wrong. Gasping at the sight of flames spreading through your house, you ran to the back door to escape the heat that was dangerously creeping towards you.
Slamming the back door open, you called for him again, rushing towards the barn before coming to a dead halt when you realized it was too late for the hose. You would have to watch helplessly as his family’s home burned to the ground.
Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering you? Did something happen to him?
Anxious fear told you to do something. That you needed to find him. You didn’t know where you would go or who to ask for help, but everything else could wait. At least until you knew he was okay.
“Lover,” a familiar voice said, causing you to whip around. .
It felt as if time had stopped as a look of realization passed across your features when the stranger walked close enough for your eyes to make out his features. What was he doing here? Standing still, watching you as if this was completely normal.
Tasman.
You couldn’t help the dread you felt at the smile on his face. The familiar smile he always wore. A smile that didn’t ackowledge the dumbfounded horror on your face or the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes that stung from the smoke or the unwilling realization that there was no chance you’d ever see him again.
His eyes seemed alight with something sinister and the flames that licked the barn behind you only heightened the unearthly glow in them that grew as he came closer.
This wasn’t the reunion you imagined. It wasn’t one you wanted anymore. Why was he here? Where was he?
He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, your body too limp to resist his affections as he squeezed you tightly.
“I’ve missed you.”
The cicadas always seemed to scream the loudest right before the sun pierced the horizon, but despite the crackling flames that lit the sky, they were quiet.
#yandere#yandere oc#yandere x you#male yandere#yandere x gn reader#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#ask#yandere male#gn reader#yandere hero x reader#yandere hero#yan!tasman
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lover boy — 양정원 YJW
genre: opposites attract, good boy!jungwon x popular!reader (fem), college au, semi smau, d!e/kys jokes
taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @defnotfertilizedtoesw @kwiwin
note: hihi! check this out as well! its about another project of mine, hehe
"let yourself go, jungwon"
those words seemed to live rent-free in the boy's head for the rest of the class. he had met you during one of his class exchanges, when he switched with someone else because his schedule didn't fit his work hours, causing him to miss class most of the time.
you guys were close, to say the least, but very different. jungwon was quiet, always in his own world or tending to his gardening club. you, on the other hand, were popular enough to be known by quite a few people.
the fact that some of his classmates had asked him for "tips" as soon as he walked in to his 9am class had him wondering if pulling an all nighter the day before was actually worth it. to his dismay, he found out he was not hallucinating when others asked the same question.
his friend, sunoo, told him about the rumors going around. apparently, some guys were gossiping with their girlfriends about how jungwon and that one girl who was always mean to him were actually dating.
it was true; he had to let go a bit. even his own friends had said so a million times, but coming from you? it was different. he sighed when class was dismissed, waving sunoo off with his hand. too much socializing had him tired, and hearing his name being whispered everywhere only added weight to his shoulders.
it was normal for the both of you to get lunch right after your first class. your schedules were similar, with your next class starting an hour later than his. you had always treated him the way you did, and he knew it was lighthearted. it went with how you were as a person, actually being quite friendly outside of college.
it just seemed easier to you to bother him because of his opposite personality. you showed your affection teasing him all the time, but truth to be told, you found him cute. mesmerizing even.
"hey, lover boy," you greeted, waving your hand in the air enthusiastically. jungwon only sighed, giving up on trying to stop you from calling him that. you had given him that nickname back when he told you the story of his first crush.
"can we just go get lunch? my head is pounding."
jungwon brushed past you, his shoulder slightly hitting yours as he walked by. you didn't think this would cause so much stress on him, so now you felt guilty to even accompany him to lunch.
-
the walk to the convenience store and back was quiet. jungwon seemed lost in his thoughts, his eyebrows furrowing every now and then. it seemed as if he was having a fight with himself. you checked your phone to see the time, realizing it was almost time for his class.
biting the inside of your cheek, you grabbed jungwon by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
"look, im sorry if all of this made you uncomfortable, i'll try to fix every-"
you were cut off when both of his hands grabbed your shoulders, pulling you into a quick kiss.
"you want to see a lover boy? then you'll get a lover boy. we're dating after all, right?
© glitterjay | tumblr
#— ✿ c's work!#enhypen#enhypen smau#enhypen au#enhypen imagine#enhypen x reader#enha smaenha au#enha imagine#engene#kpop#yang jungwon#jungwon#enhypen jungwon#jungwon x reader
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STUPID “love makes you stupid.” carl grimes x walsh!reader
tags: angst, some fluff, violence, blood, 6x9
a/n: omg this req was SO good i am sosososo sorry i couldn’t execute it properly 😭 im not so proud of this one, but i hope its ok!!
you and carl grimes had been best friends ever since you could walk. you both met when your dad brought you to "bring your kid to work day" down at the station. the scent of coffee and the echo of footsteps filled the air.
it started to seem extremely boring, until a stranger approached you and your dad. you saw a little boy standing next to him, and felt a little less lonely. the man recognized you, though you had no idea who he was. "hi there y/n, this is carl." he introduced.
ever since then, you guys were inseparable. you and carl had a bond which was special, it was like no other. you could be yourself around him, and you could tell carl felt the same. the ease, the comfort, like you didn't have to pretend to be anyone else when you were together.
as expected, seeing him for the first time after the apocalypse started unleashed a unique wave of relief within you. you vividly recall the both of you making eye contact and running toward each other. you hugged each other tightly, as if you'd been separated for years.
"i was so scared!" you said, clutching your doll in your hand. "you don't need to be scared anymore," he reassured. "i'm here to protect you." carl loved to be your knight in shining armor, even when you were young.
through all the dark days, and as you both grew older, you two had always been there for each other. no matter whatever crap life threw at you, you guys stuck together. walker got too close to you? dead.
"i would never let anything happen to you. don't worry." he would always say. he was your closest friend, your ride or die. growing up was hard enough during the apocalypse, but having each other made it bearable.
however, as time passed, you started to feel a different way towards him. you started to feel as if things wouldn't be so bad if you guys were more than friends. actually, it was starting to seem like it was all you could dream of.
you thought it was just a one time thing, but you were dumb to think so. you often found yourself blushing at the thought of him, and when he had caught you daydreaming, let's just say he was curious.
"come on, why can't you just tell me who you like?" he asked, growing more agitated by the second. "shut up, i don't like anyone." you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "bullshit, tell me who it is." he said, looking you in the eye, a grin plastered onto his pretty face.
"nope!" you replied, popping the "p."
carl grimes had stolen your heart, and there was no doubt about it. you knew he had you wrapped around his finger, it was quite obvious when you would stress whenever he got the tiniest injury.
"calm down, it's just a cut." "do you ever shut up?" you would say, reaching for the bandaids on the top shelves of your room. "it's really not as bad as it looks." you knew he was telling the truth, it was never that serious. however, you being you, you couldn't help but worry.
but now? now it was actually serious. too serious. you felt the panic start to sink in the second you saw ron, a vengeful look on his face, pointing a gun in rick's direction. you froze when you realized who was in standing front of him. it was carl. your carl.
"you." ron said. your heart pounded against your ribs. your breaths were shallow and rapid, as a wave of terror gripped you. surely he wouldn't actually shoot. right? so many possibilities were going through your head at once, it was the worst thing you ever experienced.
fortunately, michonne came in a flash. you jumped slightly when her katana pierced through ron's skin. atleast it was all over now though. rick was alright. carl was alright.
or so you thought.
BANG!
his stupid fucking finger slipped.
all of your negative thoughts came flooding back into your mind the moment the sound of the gunshot hit your eardrums. however, among all of your worries, there was one most prominent. where did the bullet go?
your eyes darted around before your gaze landed on carl. he had his head down, and when he looked up, it felt as if all the air in your lungs had been sucked out of your body. "dad?" he whimpered out.
he had been shot. in the head. directly into his eyesocket. the amount of blood flowing down his face made you sick to your stomach. it was only a matter of seconds before his body went limp and fell to the ground.
you never knew it was possible to feel this angry. there was no way in hell that just happened, and you couldn't do anything to stop it. it should've been you.
your facial expression contorted into one showing pure horror and anxiety. your eyes widened, tears at the rim, threatening to fall out. you breathed heavily, as you felt anguish and rage twist within you. rick lifted carl into his arms and carried him. that was your cue to pull out your knife.
you and michonne ran in front of rick and carl, killing walkers one by one. you were going ballistic, slashing every walker you possibly could, grunts escaping your mouth with every stab. you were going on a rampage, you weren't even thinking, you were just so enraged. how could you have let that happen to him?
blood splattered across your face, but you barely even noticed. hot tears streamed down your cheeks. each drop carried the weight of frustration and sorrow, their salty taste bitter on your lips. your body started to grow tired, but you kept pushing. dozens of walkers were laying on the ground.
now, the focus was getting carl help. and that's what you wanted. but you just couldn't stop. you were about to plunge your bloody knife into yet another walker, but michonne caught your arm in mid-air.
"that's enough." she said. she noticed how your chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, and the way you looked like you wanted to watch the world burn.
she took the knife from your grasp before putting her hand around your shoulder for a few seconds to calm you down. "we have to hurry." she continued to kill every walker in her sight, one by one. you didn't care that your body hurt like hell, you didn't care about all the blood splattered onto you, you didn't care that you were exhausted.
the only thing you cared about was carl. would he be okay? was this the end? were you gonna lose your other half? your heart ached. you weren't even gonna get to tell him how you felt about him.
after what seemed like hours of running and fighting, you found yourself laying down in the infirmary bed next to carl's. he'd been patched up before you. he was sleeping, and you were glad he was getting the rest he needed.
but every time you looked at him, your chest tightened. he should've never even have to be here. he should've never had to go through that, ever.
daryl had a chair pulled up next to your bed. he was like a father figure to you after shane died. he sighed, wiping your now crimson splattered arms with a wet rag to clean off the blood. "y' used the knife i gave you?" he said, not looking up from your arm. "yeah, it's the best i have."
the silence in the room was so loud. it's not that he was disappointed in you, he was proud you were able to defend yourself. it was the fact that you could've died and you still kept pushing that made him so quiet. he cared about you a lot, and he knew you didn't have to fight so hard, especially at your age.
"why'd you do that?" he asks, finally making eye contact with you. you let out a breath before opening your mouth to speak, "love makes you stupid."
it felt nice, to finally be able to talk to someone about your feelings for the blue eyed boy. after all, you were never gonna tell him, so atleast you could tell someone. "damn right it does." he replied, before lighty ruffling your hair.
"get some sleep, okay kiddo?" daryl said, wiping the last of the blood off your arms. "yeah, jus- please don't te-" "i won't tell a soul." he cut you off, already knowing what you were gonna ask of him. "thanks." you said, smiling.
little did you know, daryl wasn't the only person who heard your late night confession. a "sleeping" carl stirred in his bed, now facing the wall in the opposite direction of you. perhaps it was the exhaustion getting to you, but you could've sworn you heard a light chuckle.
#carl grimes#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes x y/n#the walking dead#carl grimes x fem!reader#twd x reader#twd#carl grimes angst#carl grimes fluff#carl grimes imagines#carl grimes oneshot#twd imagines#twd oneshot#twd fanfiction#chandler riggs
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Charlie and Vaggie: Anima and Animus
There's something that I've been dying to say
More than anything, more than anything
Need you to know I love you more than anything
More than anything
Charlie and Vaggie have intertwined and complementary arcs, which are beautifully explored through the jungian archetypes of anima and animus.
WHAT ARE ANIMA AND ANIMUS?
According to Carl Jung, the anima and animus are parts of the human mind. In particular, the anima is the feminine and the animus is the masculine. Everyone has naturally both, but society promotes specific gender values and drives people to repress traits culturally associated with the opposite gender. So, to fully be complete, a person should integrate the negated part. In stories, this usually happens through a meaningful romantic relationship.
Charlie and Vaggie are two women, but they still exhibit opposite gender traits:
Charlie is a princess, who sings her heart out at every chance. She is focused on words, ideals, feelings and she strongly believes in love. All traditionally feminine traits.
Vaggie is a soldier, who shows pride in her fighting abilities. She is focused on actions, pragmatism, battles and she strongly believes in strength. All traditionally masculine traits.
And yet, things are not so simple. Let's consider Charlie and Vaggie's designs for example:
Charlie usually wears masculine clothes, as she prefers androgynus suits. Not only that, but her name means "free man" and she goes with the gender neutral "Charlie", rather than her given name "Charlotte":
Valentino: YEAH! That BITCH Chuckie or Chandler, or I dunno- Something mannish like that.
Vaggie usually wears feminine clothes, as she sports a short skirt and loose long hair. Even her name is linked to femininity, as it literally means "vagina":
Angel Dust: You're doing great, Vagina.
Even when it comes to Chaggie's The Nightmare Before Christmas's allusion...
Charlie references Jack Skellington, as she is the Princess of Hell and a passionate dreamer
Vaggie references Sally, as she is a run-away and Charlie's level-headed helper
So, Charlie seems superficially more feminine and Vaggie appears more masculine, but their looks and inspirations suggest otherwise. Why?
In truth, even if Charlie is a singing disney-like princess and Vaggie is a badass super-soldier, they don't perfectly fit the typical anima and animus characterization. This is true for their appearances and on a deeper level. Specifically:
Charlie is linked to the anima (feminine), but she is active (masculine) and stronger than Vaggie. Finally, even if she is passionate about feelings, she is often insensitive. For example, she doesn't notice her loved ones' struggles, like Angel's pain and Vaggie's insecurities.
Vaggie is linked to the animus (masculine), but she is reactive (feminine) and very sensitive deep down. Moreover, she is weaker than Charlie in terms of raw power, so her obsession with protecting the princess is misplaced.
Charlie is an anima character with a strong repressed animus and Vaggie is an animus character with a strong repressed anima. They have to integrate with each other to become whole. Still, what should they learn from their partner?
LOVE AND HATE
Charlie and Vaggie have the same problem declined in opposite ways:
Husk: Princess, is a bleeding heart who wants to solve everybody else's problems 'cept her own.
Husk about Vaggie: This one judges everyone and everything because she hates herself.
Charlie wants to fix everyone in an unconscious attempt to fix herself. She loves everyone because she herself wants to be loved.
Vaggie is cold and closed off out of guilt and self-hate. She is suspicious of everyone because she can't really forgive herself.
Both girls have low self-esteem, but Charlie tries to compensate with love, whereas Vaggie tries to defend with hate. These different coping mechanisms stem from their upbringings.
Charlie is the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith, who love her deeply, but are also distant and neglectful. As a result, she admires them, but feels unworthy of their attentions and legacy:
Lute: The only reason you're still here is because daddy gave you and your hellborn kind a pardon from an exorcist blade. How does that feel, to know how little you matter?
She is stuck being the lovable, but useless princess.
Vaggie is brought up in Adam's army, which is an abusive environment, where hate is seen as strength. Vaggie has a place in the world because she kills and is good at it:
Adam: You were on the front lines, I wouldn't forget a bad bitch like you. It's why I named you after the best thing ever. Vaggie. Anyway, you sure fucked up, didn't you?
She is stuck being the ruthless and remorseless soldier.
The path ahead for both girls lies in discovering they are more than just the princess and the soldier. In particular:
Charlie must accept she herself is capable of feeling negative emotions, like pain and anger. She can be aggressive and this doesn't make her mean. It makes her healthy.
Vaggie: Well, I mean… You're the princess of Hell. You don't really use the power that comes with that, which I love about you, but maybe you can… I don't know, command a little more… Authority?
Charlie: But that's so mean.
Vaggie: It's not mean, exactly. It's… uh, aggressive kindness.
Vaggie must learn to open up to others. She must show vulnerability and express her positive feelings more. She has a merciful and sensitive side, which doesn't make her weak. It makes her strong.
Chaggie have the potential to help each other bloom. Vaggie is the first person to tell Charlie she should be more self-assured in her role of Princess of Hell. Charlie is the first person, who takes care of Vaggie as she is hurt and unable to defend herself. Charlie can teach Vaggie to embrace her inner maiden (love, mercy). Vaggie can show Charlie how to be a real warrior (aggressivity, strength). At the same time, their opposite mentalities lead to some problems in their relationship.
TRUST FALLS (APART)
Charlie: I trust everyone, so maybe you know better on how to build it properly!
Angel Dust to Vaggie: To be fair, do you trust any man? Any men? Men?
Charlie trusts everyone, whereas Vaggie trusts no-one. So, none of them really knows how to trust properly. This becomes obvious in the episode Scramble Eggs, where:
Charlie trusts Vaggie so much she doesn't realize she is putting a lot of pressure on her partner:
Charlie: Oh, come on. It'll be easy! I'm sure you can handle this.
Vaggie: Yeah, um, Sure, I can handle this. No problem.
Vaggie trusts Charlie so little she isn't able to confide nor lean on her partner:
Charlie: It's no big deal, Vaggie. You know, maybe I can just help, uh-
Vaggie: No. I told you you could trust me, and I'm not going to let you down.
Charlie acts like the damsel and lets Vaggie handle the whole situation. Vaggie plays the knight and refuses to share the burden with Charlie:
So I, I'll be your armor
Do whatever it takes, I'll make the mistakes
I'll spend my life being your partner
The song Whatever It Takes plays the princess/knight motif straight. Vaggie sees herself as worthy of Charlie only if she can be her knight in shining armor. This may seem sweet, but there is something to be said about Vaggie echoing Carmilla, a mother who is singing to her daughters:
So I, I'll be your keeper
Do whatever it takes, I'll make the mistakes
I'll keep you safe and keep this secret
It makes sense for a parent to shoulder the burden for their kids' sake. However, a person wanting to do the same for their lover is unhealthy. Especially, when the secret of a balanced relationship is established early on:
Charlie: From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith, equals as the first of Mankind.
The two partners must be equals, but Vaggie sees herself as inferior to Charlie and tries to over-compensate. In this way, though, she takes away Charlie's agency. Charlie instead knows something is off deep down. However, she does not address the matter because she would need to go deeper into herself, her feelings and her relationships. And Charlie wants to avoid it at all costs.
Chaggie's communication issues are conveyed meta-narratively in Charlie and Vaggie's individual songs:
-Charlie's Happy Day in Hell has our princess sing so loud that she almost covers Vaggie's warning:
Charlie: If I can show them the dream I've dreamed
That any soul can change!
Vaggie: Those angels' minds are hard to change
Charlie: Then they will know everyone can be redeemed
From the evil to the strange!
Vaggie: They're bloodthirsty and deranged!
She doesn't listen to Vaggie.
-Vaggie's Whatever It Takes is sung by our knight to her princess, but Vaggie has Charlie leave before the beginning:
Charlie: Vaggie, don't say that! You do so much! It's-
Vaggie: I'm sorry. I'd… I'd like to be alone for a minute.
She doesn't talk to Charlie.
Eventually the couple's trust exercise is solved positively:
Charlie: No, no, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I put pressure on you. We work as a team. I guess I just thought all this would be easier, but, we'll figure it out, together. I mean, look what your exercise did for them.
Charlie goes out of her way to talk with Vaggie and Vaggie's team-building works. Charlie puts both her and Vaggie's feelings into words, whereas Vaggie builds trust through her actions.
Despite this, Chaggie don't really address their problems, which come back stronger:
Adam: Don't you act all high and mighty
Did you ever think your little girlfriend might be a liar?
Vaggie: Don't, Adam, please!
Adam: What's the fuss?
Why hide the fact that you're an angel just like us?
Charlie has been ignoring Vaggie's dark side, so she is devastated when it comes out. Vaggie instead has been hiding the truth from Charlie, so it is revealed in the worst way possible. After this, there is an inversion in Charlie and Vaggie's dynamic:
Vaggie: Charlie, can we talk about this--
Charlie: We can talk later. Right now, we have a job to do. You with us?
Vaggie is the one looking for a conversation, whereas Charlie pushes her girlfriend away. Before they can reconcile, the two girls need to go through individual trips and to find the guidance of two mentors.
A singer
A dancer
SINGING AND DANCING
Rosie and Carmilla are mature versions of Charlie and Vaggie:
Rosie is the Ruler of Cannibal Town, one of the nicest place in Hell. She is good-natured, but respected by her people. Moreover, she runs an Emporium, where she helps her clients with their personal problems. This is pretty much what Charlie would like to do with the Hazbin Hotel. Rosie is also a singer and is inspired by Dolly, from the musical "Hello, Dolly!"
Carmilla is Hell's top weapon dealer, so she specializes in war and is herself an exceptional fighter. However, she is not ruthless and mostly fights to protect her loved ones. She is the kind of person a more balanced and self-assured Vaggie might become. Carmilla is also designed as a ballerina and her two daughters are called after protagonists of famous ballets.
Why do Charlie and Vaggie's adult selves have a singing and dancing motif? That's because Charlie and Vaggie are respectively a singer and a dancer.
Charlie is a singer:
Charlie: My name is Charlie, I like to sing! And when we get to know each other it's the greatest thing!
She always conveys her feelings through songs, like her many attempts to pitch her hotel (to the Sinners, to Adam, to the Cannibals). What is more:
Charlie: But Lilith thrived, empowering demonkind with her voice and songs.
Charlie wants to become like Lilith and to empower people with her voice. Her objective is to grow into an inspiring leader, who changes minds and touches hearts with words.
Vaggie is a dancer:
The problem is that she has yet to realize it. Vaggie struggles with self-expression, which is why she has very few songs in the first season. That said, she shows her devotion through actions, like her determination to fight for Charlie. What she needs to learn is a new fighting style rooted in love. That is dancing, a way to express one-self through the body. This is made clear by the two cut episodes Challenge Day and The Baphomet Ball:
This cut plotline had Vaggie fight proto-Carmilla and lose. Charlie would later cheer her up by inviting her to a Ball. There proto-Carmilla would be impressed by Vaggie's dancing skills. The basic idea is obvious. Vaggie is a fighter, who must evolve into a dancer.
So, once again Chaggie is complementary:
Charlie is linked to singing, words and "soul", as she herself is the Heart of the Hazbin Hotel.
Vaggie is linked to dancing, actions and "body", as she herself is the Arm of the Hazbin Hotel.
As a result, they are given opposite missions to save the hotel:
Charlie must convince the Cannibals to join her army (singing). She must find people, who will help them fight.
Vaggie must discover from Carmilla how to fight the exorcists. This means both learning her fighting style (dancing) and obtaining the angelic weapons.
And yet, to succeed in their respective areas of expertise both Charlie and Vaggie must step into the other's shoes.
Charlie learns to better understand Vaggie and by doing so she realizes the importance of actions:
Rosie: If there's anything I've learned, it's that words are cheap, but actions, they speak the truth. So, what have her actions said?
Charlie: That she believes in me, and what we're doing.
Not only that, but she is forced to take a look inside and starts unpacking some of her negative emotions:
Charlie: My girlfriend is an Exorcist angel, and she never told me
Rosie: Oh, shit! Quite a secret. How does that make you feel?
Charlie: Just, angry, because we share everything, because she always supported me, and my ideas, and-and- and now, I don't know whether or not that was just more of the lies! Oh no that's a horrible thing to think! Do i think that?! Yes! N-no. Kinda?
As a result, she comes up with a song that combines her natural showmanship and charisma with a new resolution to act:
Charlie: For the first time in my life
I might have to be ready for this
Ready to be the one who's leading from the front
Gotta come into my own
Gotta come into my throne
Gotta take charge and defend my only home
And although I kinda feel unsteady
Now I need to be ready for this
Charlie steps into the role of leader and is ready to take action:
All: For the first time in our lives
We know that we are ready for this
Rosie: We'll show Heaven a fight they won't forget!
All: It's time to take a stand
Charlie: It is time to lend a hand! (Cannibals: Huzzah!)
Against the angels and their deadly threat!
All: We cannot take it anymore
The time has come to go to war
Prepare to fight, we're ready for…
THIS!
Vaggie inspires the residents of the Hotel to stay and convinces Carmilla to help. By doing so, she shows how much she has grown thanks to her time with Charlie:
Vaggie: What's important now is that we're going to have a fight on our hands. Look, this hotel is about to become the most dangerous place in hell, and we….I, can't guarantee your safety anymore. I still believe in Charlie's dream. I know this place can work. But none of you signed up for this. I'm gonna go learn how we can fight back, and when I come home….Well I'll understand if none of you are here.
Moreover, she learns to fight in a new way intertwined with music (Charlie's passion and world):
This fighting style is focused on defense and survival, rather than attack and killing:
Carmilla: Angels attack quickly, viciously, and without mercy. You'll need to defend better than that.
Carmilla: Well, look at that. You might just survive this.
It is based on love:
Carmilla: I see you're driven by your detestation
Your every step is stoked with animus
You need a different type of motivation
Or there's no way that you can handle this
I know you're thirstin' for vengeance, Vaggie
You're out for blood
But you'll only stand a chance if you're out for love
By the end, Charlie and Vaggie meet each other in front of the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie leads the people (soul) and Vaggie has the weapons (body). They have also grown enough to better understand each other. Charlie empathizes with Vaggie and forgives her lie. Vaggie realizes how much Charlie cares for her and is ready to value herself more:
At the same time, Charlie faces some of her repressed "aggressivity" and makes an important step as Princess of Hell:
Rosie and Alastor: She's bound to pass the test as Princess of Hell
Like her Daddy, she is madly power-fell!
Vaggie instead learns some "self-love" and makes progress into becoming a true angel:
Carmilla: You're gonna fight without gloves
And when that push comes to shove
Yeah, you just might rise above
Long as you're out for love
These changes are fully embraced and tested in the final battle.
FINALE: DEVIL AND ANGEL
The fight against the Exorcists is where Charlie and Vaggie's integration is on full display, starting with their designs:
Charlie wears a mini-dress with a heart decoration and wields a shield.
Vaggie fully covers her body with an androgynous and practical attire. She fights with her signature spear.
The usually masculine looking Charlie appears feminine. The usually feminine appearing Vaggie looks masculine. Their outfits also fit their respective fighting styles. Charlie is defensive, whereas Vaggie is aggressive. Wait... isn't something wrong? Shouldn't Charlie grow more aggressive and Vaggie more defensive? Yes and this is precisely what happens as the battle progresses...
Charlie is overwhelmed by her anger and grief over Sir Pentious's death and unlocks her full demonic form. She goes from defense (shield) to offense (pitchfork) and injures Adam. Finally, she transforms her arm into a claw and stops the First Man in his tracks.
Vaggie is attacked by Lute, loses her spear and is forced on the defensive. She protects herself from Lute's relentless assault until she reveals her angelic wings and traps her opponent. Eventually, she has pity of Lute and lets her live.
Charlie's climatic moment is a show of strength, whereas Vaggie's is a show of mercy.
In other words:
Charlie appears more feminine, but acts more masculine
Vaggie appears more masculine, but acts more feminine
In comparison to their usual dynamic, Chaggie go through a complete inversion. This development is conveyed also by a small detail: their hair. Charlie lets hers loose, while Vaggie ties hers.
Charlie's hair usually covers her horns and is tied because she represses her demonic side. The moment she gives in to her inner demon, the horns come out and the hair gets loose, just like her feelings are untamed.
Vaggie: I'm not used to fighting with long hair.
Vaggie's hair is an attempt to hide her past and vulnerability. She has it grow after her abandonement to mask her scars (her eye and missing wings). In the finale, she ties it to fight freely. In this way, her brand new angelic wings can come out in all their beauty.
So, Charlie embraces her demon side, while Vaggie has her inner angel emerge. The twist is that Charlie the demon teaches Vaggie how to be a proper angel. Vaggie the angel instead shows Charlie that there is value in demonic traits. They integrate with each other to become the best versions of themselves. This shows also before and after the fight.
In the Finale, Charlie expresses all her self-loathing:
Charlie: He did it for us, the ultimate sacrifice
He gave me his trust, and look how we paid the price
This bloodshed could have been avoided
If I convinced Heaven to work together
I took a hotel and I destroyed it
I know I could have done better
Better, instead of letting you down
Thanks to this, her loved ones come to her side and support her. What is more, she starts to back up her words with actions:
Katie Killjoy: Charlie Morningstar managed to fend off the angelic attack with more than just nice words.
In More Than Anything Reprise, Vaggie conveys her love to Charlie through words and is there for her in a moment of self-doubt and weakness:
Vaggie: You've already done so much
So many lives you've changed
So many souls you've touched
And in the end, if it's only me you've saved
She shows her sweetness and sensitivity.
By the end of season 1, Chaggie are together and stronger than ever. They have made the first steps into integration and tapped into their respective potentials. Both as individuals and as saviors of the universe.
THE MYTH OF EDEN
Charlie: Drawn in by Lilith's fierce independence, Lucifer found her, and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love.
The series starts with a retelling of the myth of Eden, which is set-up as the heart of the series:
Plot-wise all the characters are living with its consequences
Theme-wise it shows the birth of love between the first man and the first woman...
The twist is that the first couple isn't Adam and Eve, but Lucifer and Lilith:
Who are foils to Charlie and Vaggie:
Both couples have a demon and an angel, who fall in love against the odds.
Both Charlie and Vaggie foil Lucifer in different ways. Like her father, Charlie is a wide-eyed idealist, who doesn't fit in her kingdom and wants to change it. Like the devil, Vaggie is a fallen angel, who is let down by heaven and finds love in hell.
Both Charlie and Vaggie are set-up to foil Lilith. Charlie is a demon full of love, who wants to empower others with her voice. Just like her mom. Vaggie is an angel hidden in hell, who keeps secrets out of a misplaced wish to protect others. Lilith is a demon hidden in heaven... wanna bet that she is keeping secrets from her husband and daughter to protect them?
Why is there such a juxtaposition between the two couples? Two reasons:
Charlie is gonna deal with her complicated feelings for her parents through Vaggie. Her partner is gonna challenge her to grow into her own person (microchosm).
Lucifer and Lilith unwillingly broke the world, but Charlie and Vaggie are gonna fix it (macrochosm)
This is why the two couples are immediately juxtaposed:
After Charlie ends her retelling of The Story of Hell, Vaggie arrives to check on her.
Lucifer and Lilith destroyed the status quo:
Charlie: But this gift came with a curse. And with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way to Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven worked to maintain was shattered.
Charlie and Vaggie will bring a new and better one:
Charlie: We'll make a difference, wait and see
Charlie and Vaggie: We're gonna do this, you and me
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YOU OWE ME SOMETHING - AEMOND TARGARYEN X READER.WIFE.VELARYON.
Summary: when your husband arrives late at night soaked and silent, you ask him to tell you what happened. Upon hearing his story, your marriage breaks up and you no longer want to know anything about him.
words count: 2.455
Warnings: angst, mentions of murder, blood, abortion, mentions of knives, threats, my first language is not English so I'm very sorry if there are any grammatical errors, if you see any please let me know.
well, I didn't like this so much, I think I could have made it longer and better but here you go, I hope you like it (as much as I like this one-eyed guy down here, although Lucerys' death hurt me so here I take it out on him hahahaha )
You heard the door ring, while you continued delicately embroidering a dragon on your hoop, it was a little late and it was still raining outside your window while you were waiting for your husband to arrive, he had brought a message, you didn't know who of course, you weren't told much about what was happening lately, and of course you couldn't leave your room either, at first you were afraid, and you only thought of quick ways to escape or die, not wanting to suffer too much or be a weakness for some side in the event of a war, not wanting to be a weakness for your mother and your family, no one told you anything but you weren't stupid either, King Viserys was dead, you were sure.
- Why do you stay at the door, my prince? - you asked without looking up, but when you didn't receive an answer you looked ahead, looking at your husband, who was standing in the door frame soaked, looking at the floor, almost as if he was afraid to look at you - oh Aemond, you're soaked, you'll get sick, love...
You quickly got up from the chair you were in, well, fast enough that your pregnant belly allowed it, already big enough to bother your back when walking just a few steps, you grabbed a skin that you had on the bed while You put her on his shoulders, caressed his arms a little while trying to look up at his one eye, but he still refused to look directly at you.
- You should be sleeping, dear wife, it's late - he told you, his voice was so low that you thought you had never heard Aemond speak with so much... Regret? - Sleeping poorly cannot be good for the baby.
- What happened Aemond? Why do you come like this? - you took his cold face in your hands, making him finally look you in the eyes, and when he did you hesitated a little, his only eye looked at you with a thousand apologies, you were afraid to ask what had happened - what happened there Aemond?
He was silent for a few moments, wondering what he should do, hiding the truth from you wouldn't be good, you would find out sooner or later, if you came in through someone else it would be much worse, and he didn't want to deceive you, you were his wife and you trusted him, he had to explain the truth to you, even if he was afraid.
- I didn't have control, Vhagar didn't listen to me anymore - he tried to explain while his voice trembled, you had never heard him like that, his voice wasn't strong and confident like always, he seemed like another person - I tried to make him obey me but He had simply started doing what he wanted...
You held his face tightly again, so that he knew that you heard and understood them, although for some reason you felt more and more afraid of knowing what had made him this way, you were afraid of knowing what had happened.
- I didn't want that to happen, that wasn't what I wanted, Y/n, I swear on my life, I swear on my love for you - he began to speak desperately, holding your hand tightly this time - I wanted justice, I just wanted him to feel what I felt, nothing more.
- Who are you talking about, Aemond? What do you want to tell me? Who is it? - You started to get scared, you had rarely heard the word revenge from your husband's mouth, but that revenge always referred to the same person, he didn't answer you and out of nerves you screamed - Who are you referring to? What happened out there, Aemond?
He lowered his gaze to the ground again as he began to delicately explain.
- when I went to leave the message for Lord Borros, another dragon arrived - you listened with fear, you didn't want to imagine anything but everything seemed to point towards a misfortune - I asked him, I asked him to do it himself, I just wanted him to lose what I also lost.
- Who are you referring to? -
- my mind disconnected, we both rode our dragons, I chased him, my mind disconnected, I only thought that they should pay for what they did to me - You started to cry and squeeze his hand tightly.
- Who are you talking about, Aemond? -
- and Vaghar stopped listening to me, he stopped doing what I wanted, that was not what I was trying to do, you should know, everything happened so fast that I couldn't do anything - you let go of his hand as you took a few steps away and screamed loudly, placing one of your hands on your belly that was starting to hurt.
- What happened, Aemond, what did you do? I'm demanding that you tell me who you're talking about -
- Lucerys Velaryon is... He's dead, love, I'm so sorry -
Your eyes opened in horror and you felt your throat burning, you felt the burning run from your throat to your belly and the pain became more and more unbearable.
- what did you say? - You wanted to believe that your ears were deceiving you, but Aemond's look left no room for doubt - I asked you, What the hell did you say?
- He wasn't supposed to die... - He took a step towards you and you didn't even move, you looked at him with eyes full of disgust and loathing - I'm sorry, lov...
Then your sobbing interrupted him, you couldn't stand the pain that coursed through you any longer and you knelt on the ground, both hands on your belly that was throbbing with pain, until you heard Aemond's footsteps and looked at him from the ground with red eyes and crazy, while he also knelt in front of you, although a few steps away
- You killed my brother, my little brother... - you cried while Aemond tried to take your hand in his, but you moved further away, pointing towards him accusingly - you promised me, you promised mercy, you said you would never murder to someone I loved but look what you've done.
- I explained to you that that was not what I wanted, you have to...
- But you interrupted him again, there was no longer a trace of gentleness or understanding in your voice.
- And what does it matter what you wanted or not? Hmm! - you asked aggressively, then you moaned again because of the pain in your stomach - you know what I think, husband? I think you are a liar, deep down this was all you wanted, the death of the person who took out your eye and with it your pride, tell me, did your eye magically return to you?
He saw you as if you were a completely different person, and you were sure that you were completely different now, you couldn't be the same after hearing what he had done to your younger brother, you quickly looked down at his belt and noticed the dagger that was there, you quickly took it and since he was so distracted he couldn't stop you from taking it in your hands.
- If you wanted an eye from the Velaryon family so much, why didn't you tear it from me? - the scream echoed through all the walls of the room while you cried even more, pointing the dagger towards your eye - why didn't you take my life before Luke's?
- Don't say that, love, put the dagger down, okay? - he whispered with fear, you had never seen him like that, and he had never seen you like that - I didn't want to kill that bastard...
The nickname "bastard" left his lips almost unconsciously, and he instantly regretted having said it, you began to get up with difficulty, the treatment was to help you but you pointed the dagger at him.
- If you touch me, I will cut your hand off - you looked at him with rage merging with the tears in your eyes - and then you can chase me, mock me and torment me until my death, you can live obsessed with one more revenge that will not grant you more than hate.
When you finally got up you felt the pain so strong that it made you even hunch over but you ignored it to see your husband on the floor again.
- If you call those children bastards you will also say it for me, how dare you insult my brothers even after having murdered one of them? With what right do you speak about my family? -
- Don't hate me, Y/n, that shouldn't happen - he got up from the ground too, with much more ease than you - but your brother owed me something, and you can't deny that, let's not distance ourselves over this matter, I'll tell you I said how sorry I am.
- Didn't you say the same night you lost your eye that that sacrifice for a dragon was worth it? You were so obsessed that you ended up without an eye for claiming a dragon that didn't even belong to you, and it happened to you again, Aemond, you became so obsessed with that damn revenge that you sacrificed a happy life with your wife for her - you began to slowly approach the door, trying not to let Aemond notice - because this I swear to you Aemond, I will die before I love you again, I will stick this dagger into my heart tonight if it means I don't have to pretend to love you again for the rest of my life. You pointed the dagger at your heart this time, he was worried but froze when he heard what you said next.
- or I will stick the dagger into my belly and kill the baby, just to make sure that I will have nothing more to bind me to you in this miserable life - this time you pointed the dagger at your belly, he looked at you as if you were crazy - because I assure you that I will never allow you to touch me again, Aemond.
And with that you opened the door and ran out of the room, Aemond watched the guards move quickly and shouted at them.
- Don't you dare touch her - then he looked at the ground and noticed the blood that left a path behind you - Y/n, the baby.
You ran, thinking quickly, you had to look for your dragon and leave here, you had to go to dragonstone to return to your family, you couldn't stay in this place, not next to the people who only wanted to kill your family for revenge and power.
You saw the stairs leading to the main courtyard and began to run harder towards them, and even faster when you heard Aemond's quick footsteps behind you and his cries of your name. When you reached the first step of the stairs you felt your feet get tangled together with your long nightgown, the dagger fell from your hands while you felt your skin being crushed against the hard steps, your head hit the ground hard while your belly hurt more than ever, your eyes began to close.
- Y/n -
you heard Aemond scream before you fell into the darkness of your faint.
------------------------
When you woke up you were in your bed, in the room you shared with Aemond, he was sitting in a chair sleeping, you tried to get up but even that simple noise woke him up.
- Don't move, my wife, you are very weak - he looked at you sadly and you simply looked away from him, you couldn't forget what he had done, and you didn't even want to see him - the baby.... The baby died Y/n.
You wanted to feel sad, but you didn't, on the contrary, you felt relieved to not be carrying Aemond's child in your womb, and that idea only made you feel like a monster, the baby you had once loved so much now felt like a hindrance, something that your worst enemy had left you and that you had managed to get rid of.
- He was a beautiful boy - he whispered when he got closer to you, now you saw him with hatred in your eyes.
- I don't want to listen to anything you say to me, Aemond, I don't want you to talk to me - he felt hurt again, he had hoped that this whole fight had passed, he didn't want to be like this with you but you no longer care what he wanted or not.
- My mother is very sad, she will surely come to visit later - you rolled your eyes and looked at the ceiling of the room.
What did Aemond expect from you? The love you felt for him was slowly poisoned until it became the purest hatred.
- I don't care about your mother, she is a traitor and a liar, I don't care about your drunk and debauched brother, nor your sister either, too naive for this world, I don't care about you, Aemond, murderer, you are full of blood and now You don't mean anything to me - Aemond's heart broke when he heard your poisonous words, he never imagined that you would say something like that to him.
- Your brother owed me something, Y/n, don't judge me after seeing everything he took from me -
- my brother took one of your eyes, you took both of his eyes, since they are of no use to him now, in fact, you took away his entire body, you stole the life of his dragon and him too - you began to list, your voice was lacking of emotions - now it seems to me that you owe him something, but since he is not here to exact his revenge, I will take that role for myself.
He opened his eyes tiredly as he sat back down in his chair, you turned to him and he could swear he saw fire glow in your eyes.
- I will escape from this place, Aemond, I will go far away from here and I will wait for the perfect moment to exact my revenge - the both of you looked into each other's eyes and couldn't believe how much everything changed in a single night - because now you owe me something.
#aemond imagine#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#hotd x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd
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Through the Wall
Summary: Harry is your handsome neighbour, and you keep hearing him through the wall.
A/N: This is short little one shot I wrote and posted last year to try to get my mojo back, so sorry if it seems familiar.
Warnings: Masturbation and sexual noises.
Word Count: 1.7k
He was at it again. The man next door.
Harry. That was his name. You’d learnt it a week or so ago when you’d come home with multiple bags of food and he’d offered to hold the door and carry a few upstairs for you. But that hadn’t been the first time you’d seen him. You’d been admiring him from afar for weeks, sneaking peeks when he’d go out for his morning run, or when he was checking his post. You’d decided long ago that he was attractive, though you’d still been too shy to give him more than a meek smile.
But more than just getting a quick view of him on his way in or out the building, you heard him. A lot.
The building you shared with Harry was a former tenement, an old run-down series of flats from the seventies that had recently been upgraded and remodeled. Though the insides resembled modern apartment living, the walls still remained paper-thin. And recently you’d deduced that your bedroom wall was one that you shared with your handsome neighbour. Harry.
You hadn’t realised what it had been at first, the sound coming from behind the wall. You’d just returned to your room after a shower, ready to retire for the evening and crawl into bed early. The sound had started low at first, like a deep grumble. At first you thought perhaps your neighbour was talking on the phone, his demeanor soon sounding disgruntled, his volume growing through the wall. It wasn’t until you’d turned out the light that you heard a second voice. A female voice.
Just brilliant, you’d thought sarcastically. He has a woman in there with him.
Perturbed that he’d chosen to entertain a female on the evening you’d decided to go to bed before ten, you considered grabbing your headphones, or even some earplugs. But that was when the grumbling grew into deep moans. Had you any doubts before that the man’s bedroom was directly on the other side of the wall of your own, they certainly dissipated when you heard the knock of the headboard. Felt it, even.
Nearly ready to leap out of bed and find those God forsaken earplugs, you suddenly heard him speak.
“Oh, God!” he cried from the other side of the paper-thin wall.
Perhaps it was the desperate tone in his voice, or maybe the heavy breathing you heard afterwards, but your ears perked up then. As he continued to moan, you were no longer irritated by the sounds, but rather titillated by them. The search for anything to plug your ears dismissed, you laid in your bed and allowed yourself to have a private…concert.
You realised as the noises and moans increased, you heard less of the female tone. You thought this interesting since in your experience, women tend to be a little louder in bed than men. You wondered if she was sucking him off when you heard the headboard hit the wall again.
“Jesus!” Harry gasped at almost the same time you did. “Oh, fuck! Yes, baby….yes…ohhhh…”
Giggling to yourself, you listened as your neighbour came down from his orgasm, his heavy breaths slowing to a shaky sigh.
Well, he certainly sounds satisfied, you thought. Lucky girl.
That had been the first time you’d heard Harry through the wall. But it certainly wasn’t the last. The irony of it was that each time you heard him, you could have sworn there was someone else in the room with him. But the next morning, when you would open your flat door and head for the stairs, Harry would sometimes emerge from his own door…alone.
Not that the guest couldn’t have left during the night, or even directly after their shag. That was definitely possible. You just found it…odd that no one - male nor female - lingered near his flat to give him a goodbye kiss. Instead, he would smile at you, sometimes offer you a chipper greeting and wish you a pleasant day.
This particular day - a Saturday - you’d headed out that morning for an errand when you’d spotted Harry returning from his morning run.
“Good morning, Y/N,” he waved, his shirt stained with sweat, his thick thighs peeking out from his black running shorts. Damn him. The fact that he remembered your name was bad enough. Now you’d be forced to imagine him behind the wall, sweat dripping from his brow, his wet skin glistening like it was now.
When you returned home, you’d barely unloaded your items from the supermarket when you started to hear the familiar noises.
Bloody hell!, you thought. It’s the middle of the damn day!
Nevertheless, when you walked into your bedroom, Harry’s moans were intense and lusty. And just like the last time, which had only been the previous night, you found yourself turned on, squeezing your legs together to hold in your desire. As you sat on the bed to listen more closely, you could hear Harry mumbling something, though you couldn’t make out the words. Harry panted, his deep moans turning into desperate cries. You began to feel more and more wetness between your legs until you finally rose from the bed to strip.
“Fuck it all!” you exclaimed as you climbed back onto your mattress, facing the wall. Your right hand quickly made its way to your already soaking pussy while you braced yourself against the wall with your left.
Whilst Harry continued his sexy sounds, you imagined you were the guest in his room, the one who was making him feel this way - so insatiably horny until he was completely fucked out of his mind.
“Oh, God,” he cried out again. “Yeah, fuck me, baby.”
With a grin, you paused the stroking with your hand to reach for your bedside table. Opening the drawer, you pulled out your special friend. Happy to oblige, you pretended your girthy toy was your neighbour, whom no doubt was just as girthy. A girl knows these things.
As you slowly lowered yourself onto your dildo, you let out a gasp. Even in your wet state, it always took a little adjusting. But once you were there, you returned your hand to the wall, imagining Harry was inside you. Your jaw slack, your eyes rolling back in your head, you let all inhibitions go. You cursed out loud when Harry did, allowing yourself the pleasure. When your arm could no longer hold you up, you sat back on your knees, your free hand pinching your nipple.
When you heard Harry’s headboard hit the wall, you could feel your own release coming soon. Your thighs weakening and burning, you grabbed hold of your pillow as you fucked the toy harder into your dripping cunt.
“Oh, fuck, Harry!” you called out.
Oops. That was loud, you thought. Had he heard you?
You paused - for only a moment though your throbbing pussy would beg to differ - and you could have sworn Harry stopped too. Was he finished? You hadn’t heard him come.
Deciding to at least finish yourself off, you started pumping again, the “Harry” dildo fucking you in just the right spot. You gasped and moaned again, this time not caring about the volume. That was when you heard a chuckle.
At least…you thought you did.
“Yeah, babe, you’re so hot.” You definitely heard that. “Fuck me, just like that.”
Your moans become more feral, you lifted yourself up onto your knees again, your hand finding the wall. You scooted closer, until your ear was almost pressing against it. You wanted to hear him come. Needed to.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” you heard him ask.
You licked your lips as you imagined the query was for you. Another moan escaping your lips, you sped up your hand.
“You like when I fuck you like this, baby?”
Biting your bottom lip, you nodded, but another cry sounded from your chest.
“Yeah, your pretty pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, innit? Just for me.”
“Yes!” you shouted, just as a thunderous orgasm ripped through your entire body. “Oh, God!”
Thighs trembling, palms sweating, you were no longer able to hold yourself up. You cried Harry’s name several times until it turned into a whisper as you slid down the wall to your pillows.
A low, guttural moan sounded from Harry’s side of the wall followed by a handful of expletives. Then he let out another chuckle.
“That was incredible, babe.”
Incredible, indeed. Though…now that you were coming down from your high, you finally admitted that he’d heard you. He knew it was you.
Holy shit!
Scrambling from the bed, you took a quick shower, wrapping yourself in a massive, plush towel. Laying on your bed, you pondered the idea that Harry might have been trying to tease you all along. Perhaps it was his game.
Dehydrated, you walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. Your brain was still trying to process everything that had just happened when a knock sounded on the door.
“Um…who is it?” you called from the other side without opening it.
“It’s your neighbour, love. Harry.”
Of course it was.
“Oh, um…okay, just a minute!”
Running to the bedroom, you threw on a pair of leggings and an oversized tee before hesitantly opening the door, greeting your neighbour with a weak smile.
“Hi,” he grinned. “Sorry to bother you. I got some of your post by mistake.”
“Oh,” you said, a bit confused as you handed you a couple letters. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Well…again, didn’t want to trouble you. Have a nice evening.”
“Um…same to you,” you gulped.
Harry was just about to turn away, your hand on the door as you stood baffled, when he stopped and pinched his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger.
“By the way…” he started, his words trailing off.
“Yes?”
“Uh…this is kinda awkward, but…I’m a single guy and don’t know many people yet in this area. But I’m cooking dinner, and it’s far too much for one person. Would you…like to join me?” he gestured toward his door.
Your eyebrows lifted high as your jaw dropped. “Dinner? At your flat?”
“Yeah. That is…if you want to.”
You smiled at him as a sigh of relief escaped your chest. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
“Good,” he beamed before he leant forward, his forearm resting on your door frame. “I reckon it’s better than communicating through the wall.”
It was late and I was feeling things, so I decided to repost this. Hope you enjoyed :).
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fan fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles one shot#harry styles smut#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles x y/n#harry fanfiction#harry fan fiction#harry fic#harry fanfic#harry fan fic#harry x reader#harry one shot#harry smut#harry imagine#harry blurb#harry x y/n#reader fic#harry reader fic
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Thinking again about the darknesses that lurk underneath the surface of Sense and Sensibility (I have talked before about how Edward despite being the eldest is subjected to what we can argue is emotional and financial abuse by his family for years, and how the Dashwood women are disinherited on a whim of their great uncle), and this time specifically about the Brandons.
We get so little about them, and what we do get about them is all bad:
This lady was one of my nearest relations, an orphan from her infancy, and under the guardianship of my father... At seventeen she was lost to me for ever. She was married—married against her inclination to my brother. Her fortune was large, and our family estate much encumbered. And this, I fear, is all that can be said for the conduct of one, who was at once her uncle and guardian. My brother did not deserve her; he did not even love her... I have never told you how this was brought on. We were within a few hours of eloping together for Scotland. The treachery, or the folly, of my cousin’s maid betrayed us. I was banished to the house of a relation far distant, and she was allowed no liberty, no society, no amusement, till my father’s point was gained... My brother had no regard for her; his pleasures were not what they ought to have been, and from the first he treated her unkindly.
Mr Brandon Sr is shown to us as being a greedy man, a bad administrator of his estate, and a cruel father. His first son seems cut of the same cloth, and his pleasures were not what they ought to have been is one of the most, if not the most sinister line between all the Austen novels. But there's more about him!:
Her legal allowance was not adequate to her fortune, nor sufficient for her comfortable maintenance, and I learnt from my brother that the power of receiving it had been made over some months before to another person. He imagined, and calmly could he imagine it, that her extravagance, and consequent distress, had obliged her to dispose of it for some immediate relief.
The Brandons were married for two years; the colonel returns to England and starts looking for her 3 years later. Young Eliza was then a 3 year old toddler. We are obliquely told that Brandon cut all ties with his brother:
It was a valued, a precious trust to me; and gladly would I have discharged it in the strictest sense, by watching over her education myself, had the nature of our situations allowed it; but I had no family, no home; and my little Eliza was therefore placed at school. I saw her there whenever I could, and after the death of my brother, (which happened about five years ago, and which left to me the possession of the family property,) she visited me at Delaford.
Eliza is now 17, so the eldest brother died when she was 14, which is 16 years after his marriage with the older Eliza. In that period of time, he managed to squander the whole of her fortune, and put the estate in debt again, as we are told earlier on by Mrs Jennings:
Poor man! I am afraid his circumstances may be bad. The estate at Delaford was never reckoned more than two thousand a year, and his brother left everything sadly involved. I do think he must have been sent for about money matters, for what else can it be? I wonder whether it is so. I would give anything to know the truth of it. Perhaps it is about Miss Williams and, by the bye, I dare say it is, because he looked so conscious when I mentioned her. May be she is ill in town; nothing in the world more likely, for I have a notion she is always rather sickly. I would lay any wager it is about Miss Williams. It is not so very likely he should be distressed in his circumstances now, for he is a very prudent man, and to be sure must have cleared the estate by this time. I wonder what it can be! May be his sister is worse at Avignon, and has sent for him over. His setting off in such a hurry seems very like it. Well, I wish him out of all his trouble with all my heart, and a good wife into the bargain.”
We know the Bennets, with five daughters, and without a saving mindset, still manage to live very comfortably with 2000 a year, and if they had had any mind to save money, they could have provided all five of them with decent dowries/money enough to keep them out of poverty when their father died if they were single. It is clearly not that the money isn't enough, or that Delaford is an unproductive estate; in fact, it is described to us as almost paradisiac:
Delaford is a nice place, I can tell you; exactly what I call a nice old fashioned place, full of comforts and conveniences; quite shut in with great garden walls that are covered with the best fruit-trees in the country; and such a mulberry tree in one corner! Lord! how Charlotte and I did stuff the only time we were there! Then, there is a dove-cote, some delightful stew-ponds, and a very pretty canal; and every thing, in short, that one could wish for; and, moreover, it is close to the church, and only a quarter of a mile from the turnpike-road, so ’tis never dull, for if you only go and sit up in an old yew arbour behind the house, you may see all the carriages that pass along. Oh! ’tis a nice place! A butcher hard by in the village, and the parsonage-house within a stone’s throw. To my fancy, a thousand times prettier than Barton Park, where they are forced to send three miles for their meat, and have not a neighbour nearer than your mother.
One interesting character, though forgotten because only mentioned in passing, is the Brandon sister. On one of the quotes above we get that she's in Avignon for her health, and we know her husband is wealthy (and probably abroad with her) because it is his estate that the planned picnic is for:
A party was formed this evening for going on the following day to see a very fine place about twelve miles from Barton, belonging to a brother-in-law of Colonel Brandon, without whose interest it could not be seen, as the proprietor, who was then abroad, had left strict orders on that head. The grounds were declared to be highly beautiful, and Sir John, who was particularly warm in their praise, might be allowed to be a tolerable judge, for he had formed parties to visit them, at least, twice every summer for the last ten years. They contained a noble piece of water; a sail on which was to form a great part of the morning’s amusement; cold provisions were to be taken, open carriages only to be employed, and every thing conducted in the usual style of a complete party of pleasure.
It is implied that Brandon and his BIL are in very good terms (and we know he's not afraid of cutting ties with bad relatives), and one can safely guess that at the very least he cares enough about his wife as to have her travel for her health. Another guess can be made about her getting married about 10 years before the events of the book. Whether she lived at home before that, or was at school or somewhere else, it isn't said.
But this way you can feel there's a parallel in a way, between the Brandons and the Tilneys: a greedy, cruel father, a son that follows on his steps, and a younger brother and sister managing the toxicity as best they can. Talking about this with @bad-at-names-and-faces, she brought up the idea that in that scheme, Cathy would be Eliza (if it wasn't her not being an orphan, or a rich heiress, and how that connects with Austen's line about Cathy not being born to be a heroine at the beginning of Northanger Abbey). Certainly part of it is the romantic gothicness of the Brandon backstory, united with NA's commentary on Gothic tropes, but to me it drove home with even greater force how such a situation would break a man; losing Cathy that way would have definitely broken Tilney, and if we had met him 14 years down the line, would he have appeared to the unacquainted much different than Brandon appeared to the Dashwood sisters?
#jane austen#sense and sensibility#Northanger Abbey#colonel brandon#Henry Tilney#these are the spaces in the novel where you can see how Austen's craft evolved and changed#The mystery about Brandon's past works well in the context of keeping the surprises and the twists coming#but it doesn't lend itself easily to relate to the character and understand him properly#which I somewhat delusionally hold onto hope that it would have come across much better in the original epistolary form#Austen is kind of trying to pack a Wuthering Heights size and Tenant introspection levels story#into one and fractions of infodumps within her comedy of manners#And that's really A LOT to put on the plate of your first novel
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full hcs for what post-route m6 would say if they got to talk to pre-memory loss mc for a few minutes?
The Arcana HCs: Post-Route M6 get 10 minutes with Pre-Memory Loss MC
Julian
He's sorry
There's a lot more he wants to say, but he begins with a stream of apologies when the person in front of him isn't the investigator who became his ally, but the assistant he failed to protect
He's not proud of it, but for a moment he feels himself slip back into who he used to be
Someone whose value lay solely in how useful he could be to someone else, self-hatred creeping back in like an estranged family member when he sees how useless he was to you
But the you from back then, standing in the middle of the plague and seeing someone stronger, better-fed, less sleep-deprived, the you from back then can see that he's grown. He's happy
The you from back then only seems to want to know if the plague you died trying to make up for had a cure, and if the doctor you lost your life assisting was ever able to find it
And he did. Twice. Without having to prove himself to anyone
Asra
Oh, how they used to miss this version of you
There's so much running through his head. On the surface, it's the first and only chance he's really had to see the difference between who you were when he lost you and who you are now
But deeper, it's the wave of phantom pains, pulling them under and back to when they would've given anything to see this version of you again, when they waded through hell to get you back
And the fear, flashing up from an underlying simmer, that the you then and the you now are so irreconcilably different that there's only one of you he can truly love
As they fold you into the kind of hug that only old friends share, the first difference they notice is that your heart doesn't beat in time with theirs the way they're used to - and it's their revelation
He had enough love in his heart for who you were - and it grew to love you back into his life - and more again to hold both of you in the current one. He has enough for every piece of who you are
Nadia
She's ... humbled, a little
The you that she knows and loves now is someone who has faced down the terrifying and illogical with her, who has supported her through the rejuvenation of an entire city
But the person standing in front of her reminds her more of the person who first walked in through the Palace gates
You're ... normal
Not in a bad way at all, but - you look like every other citizen her carriage passes on her way through the streets. She's reminded all over again how important seeing you in her dream was
Because if you hadn't been pointed out to her, if your first proper meeting hadn't been you freeing her from three years of nightmare plagued sleep, she would have never thought to seek you out
So when the you from the past seems surprised to see the elusive Countess, not nearly as well-known as her extravagant husband
All she really wants to do is thank you by showing you your worth
Muriel
Well. This is awkward. And that's coming from him
There's a well of emotions swirling in him as he looks at you, at the you that Asra left the hut to live with, at the you that took his only found family from him, at the you he came to resent
Because if the worst he can see when he looks at you is someone who captured more of his friend's attention than he did -
What do you see when you look at him?
The you from the past wouldn't have known him when he was retired and forgotten, the you from the past would've known him when he was a gladiator
Or more accurately, when he was the Count's executioner
He's not sure it's good for either of you to be looking at each other
But he can't turn away, and that's because not only do you not seem to be afraid of him, you won't stop looking at him
Your gaze feels the same. Exposing. Open. And though this one is considerably less affectionate - safe, somehow
Portia
She is both starstruck and deeply disappointed
Starstruck because the person she's looking at seems a lot more put together than who you are now, if a little less ... developed
Your magic hovers around you like an old friend and your eyes seem a little more sure about where they want to look
And that's exactly why she's also a little disappointed
Because you aren't like the person she loves now in that way. Who you are now is always looking, always soaking up the world around you like a sponge, because so much of it is still new to you
And nothing seems new to the past you - not even her
She's so happy to take your hands in hers and ask you all about who you've been and collect all the stories and fill in all the gaps she can, to better know how you got to where you are now
And then when the visit's over, she'll happily wave goodbye and walk forward to who you are now
But not without a word of encouragement to her darling first
Lucio
Oh. Ohhh boy
You see, he was fortunate to meet you when you knew fairly little enough to encounter him with an open mind. By the time you learned about his horrible past, you knew his present self
But past you ... past you seems to know quite a bit more
And he doesn't like the way you look at him
There's an edge of uneasiness to the way he plasters on a smile and loudly calls your name, only to be met with a gaze that's polite at best
You're not supposed to be polite to him, you're supposed to love him, to want him, to admire him when he's done good and call him out when he's done bad and forgive him when he tries to do better
At the same time, this is the version of you whose death he knows he's responsible for. It makes him wonder if he's a bad person for being relieved that you changed before meeting him
He'll be happy to leave - but he does manage an apology, first
#ask arcana brainrot#the arcana#the arcana headcanons#the arcana hc#the arcana game#asra the arcana#julian the arcana#nadia the arcana#muriel the arcana#portia the arcana#lucio the arcana#asra alnazar#julian devorak#nadia satrinava#muriel of the kokhuri#portia devorak#lucio morgasson
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one thing about alcohol that a lot of people seem to believe is that is makes you more fun and easygoing and likeable. it actually does not make you more likeable inherently, what it does is suppress the anxiety and self consciousness that inhibits you normally because you don't have the cognitive power for it to be running at the same time as yaydrunk.exe
now I certainly know people who have a lot of fun while drunk and are a pleasure to be around and it shows a different side of their personality. however, i have also known and observed many people who say "I'm so much better drunk" who have imbibed and simply lost all awareness that their behavior is inappropriate, obnoxious, annoying, insulting, selfish, or even straight up frightening
and this also goes for weed. "I'm just more social stoned" people often do not understand that just because you feel better (because you are feeling less) does not mean you're acting better and you have taken a hammer to the your brain's ability to perceive social information
I know this is a nightmare post for people who use substances to socialize but idk I think it's something to know. And again there are people who it doesn't apply to! also it matters way less if everyone else you hang out with is also not sober. get some sober people in the mix and they will be seeing and observing you with their non addled minds. which is also a reason drinkers/stoners hate when you get sober and will try to get you inebriated with them again as fast as possible :)
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misalignment (n).
/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/
the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else.
"in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."
contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)
Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.
The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.
If years of friendship accompanied by unreciprocated feelings could teach him anything, it was that, to spend time with you, lining up was a prerequisite for Reo.
Free time for you was defined by work's leniency (which seldom seems to happen, but at least you enjoyed it), and the occasional period where you weren't obsessing over a drama or book series.
After that section of the queue, was quite literally everyone else. An invitation from you meant that Yukimiya was too preoccupied with modelling, Rin's overseas, Nagi was too lazy to respond and left you on read, Isagi's busy training, Kunigami's at the gym, and Hiori didn't have the time to travel that far.
Finally there was Reo, back up plan Reo, the friend that you could go to when no one was available; the friend you liked enough to spend time with but not enough to prioritise.
He steals a glance at you as you keenly sip from your glass. Self-hatred chews at his conscience, but the livid, and tired part of him shoos it away.
It's not a very nice thing to accuse one of thinking of another so lowly, especially a close friend, however the explicit signs of him holding little significance in comparison to others seemed to validate it.
You and he have been drinking for a while now, without much word other than the 'hello's and quiet greetings when you first saw each other.
It's normal, the silence. It's just how things worked between you and Reo. Neither of you were particularly social, words weren't necessary to enjoy time together, that was one of Reo's favourite things about you.
He's always tired of speaking, having to maintain flawless image, that included appearing as someone sociable and eager to speak with others.
But with you, that expectation was nowhere to be seen.
You're now adults, but this is nothing different from the quiet walks to the bus stop back in high school. The ones where he'd do his best to steal a glance of how you look, soaked within the sunlight while smiling.
Chatter permeates the bar's atmosphere gently a few clinks of glasses can be heard which followed hearty laughter and the occasional cheer.
You're first to talk. "How's university been?"
"Good." Was the workload horrendous? Yes, and so was adulthood in general. Reo knows he has it easy; he can afford it easily and could still live comfortably without working a day in his life. But he still yearns for the same feeling high school had. "Hakuho was fun though."
You place your drink down, swallowing. "I know right? Never thought I'd say this, but I miss high school. It sucked most of the time. But you and the others made it so much better.”
Reo nods, as he gulps down more alcohol. “I miss it too. How has studying been for you?”
You huff. “It’s a lot. I feel like I spend more time studying than doing anything else. But it’s good. I don’t mind since I’m actually studying something I’m passionate about, you know?”
“I’m glad, then.” Reo stares at his whisky, swirling the amber in his glass. “Proud of you. I really am. You’ve come so far, and I just know you’re going to do well.”
Growing from a clueless high schooler to a driven, impassioned, medical student. A lot has changed, years pass yet he remains unloved by you.
God there he goes again, lamenting on his paltriness. It must be a relative of masochism; he could be safe and secure at home with a good book and cup of tea, yet he’s here drinking with the source of his pain, while tethering on the border of being intoxicated with alcohol instead of heartbreak.
With each drink, a wave of euphoria swallows him up, licking up his misery as if it were sand on the shore. Rationality and emotion bicker like seagulls quarrelling over food.
You laugh at his sweet words. “You drunk? Thanks though.”
“Drunk or not, I mean it. Seriously.” Reo knows his limits, but doesn’t bother correcting you. His face feels hot, not because of the soju, but because of you.
You’ve always been pretty, to a ridiculous extent. But absurd how a few years changes you so much. Reo can’t even identify the changes, he just knows you’ve gotten prettier; that his heart races faster whenever he sees you.
“Seriously.” You echo, and nod, and smile. “I miss seeing you every day. School was so much fun with you around.”
Another hasty gulp of soju. Reo can’t stand hearing those words.
I hate you.
Is it directed to you, or himself? Not even Reo’s quite sure. He does his best to ignore your kindness, if it were true then he would’ve been addressed you with a smile in the same way you’d speak to anyone else; he would know how his name sounds off your tongue. He would mean more than a last option, and all those texts wouldn’t be left on read, viewed out of genuine care rather than basic manners.
Even though he can go on about unfair this feels, it’s ultimately his fault for still spending so much time with you. You’re supposed to cut off the people who don’t value you. You’re supposed to only care for the ones who’d do the same for you. Reo should’ve cut ties with you long ago, yet he clings onto your relationship as if it meant more than anything else.
I miss seeing you at school everyday. Your words echo, and he does his best not to choke on his drink.
Formalities, not affection. It's not love, it's your way of manners. If you truly did care you'd be spewing those sorts of words out constantly, like when you're with Chigiri, or Anri.
"Reo? You good?"
"Yeah. 'm fine." It's a reflex, he barely had time to register the words leaving his mouth. "Are you?"
"Yah. I'm not the drunk one here am I?" You chuckle to yourself, bringing the glass back to your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere. "Were you always a lightweight? Your face is so red."
"And yours is so pretty."
There he goes, ruining your night with something stupid.
"Yup. Definitely drunk. You're saying weird things now."
And with that, Reo commands, requests, pleads himself not to cry.
"You know." Another shot of soju is swallowed down by you, punctuated with a refreshed gasp. "The me a couple of years ago would've been overjoyed to hear that."
It feels as though every interaction with you accentuates his one-sided love and it stings; time with you is mere salt to the wound.
Neither of you say anything for a bit.
Reo can recall your confession, an awkward text sent after a couple of months the two of you actually spoke. There's an unspoken boundary between you two, to not being up the topic of each other's crushes or of your confession.
A fair rule, but it's harboured questions. Reo hasn't got a clue on your love life and crushes. He knows of your obsession with romantic dramas, always binging whatever's trending, screaming on social media about having to wait a full seven days for the next episode.
If only the two of you were a part of one. But even fiction would probably destine him for solitude woven of heartbreak.
"I think you're the drunk one. Why bring that up now?"
You've finally halted on drinking. "Dunno. That was my first confession."
And you're my first love—he wants to say it, it's at the tip of his tongue yet he can't muster it to say it aloud to himself or even to Nagi; let alone you.
"Well, it was an honour."
It wasn't. Because the thought always intrudes into his mind. What if you had confessed a couple of years later, or even at least two?
Or what if Reo hadn't taken his sweet time to fall in love with you, if he had told you he wanted to get to know you first instead of a simple rejection, would you be in his arms?
"Shut up. I was a stupid kid back then. I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you. Not anymore."
Reo scoffs, he can't even fantasise of the potential between you two. You liked Mikage you'd see in the hallways; rich and top of the school; not clingy old Reo who feels ever so slightly too much for everyone he cares for.
Whereas Reo couldn't care less about l/n that just transferred to his class, but would die for the y/n he discovered throughout the years.
"Yeah yeah, I know. Never thought you did." He knew you didn't.
It wouldn't've saved him from his doom of unrequited love, but the timing was terrible. The heavens should've made your infatuation and his adoration align, at the very least. Even if it meant Reo remaining unloved.
A hiccup follows a breathless giggle. "Who did you like in highschool? There had to be someone. Why didn't you ever tell me though? You had so many fans, you must've liked one of them."
Because it's you. "Because you never asked." Reo shrugs, almost impressed at his own feigned composure.
"Now I ammm." Now your words are beginning to slur. "Whooo?"
It's you. And still you. Reo could say it right here and now. You're essentially wasted and probably won't remember it. And if you did, he wouldn't mind crossing an ethical line and fibbing if it meant concealing his pathetic vulnerabilities.
Perhaps one day he'll tell you, if the uninterrupted storm ends, and the skies clear, if Mikage Reo's heart will one day stop aching for you.
"I'll tell ya some day. When I feel like it."
"What?! You're not allowed to add that much suspense—and not tell me in the end."
And perhaps in another universe, he and you can be of the same constellation, instead of being galaxies apart.
taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz
© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate
#hi i wrote this impulsively bc i'm sad#also needed a break from the 8k fic anyways#unproofread this is just i'm sad let me project#mikage reo#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk#angst#bllk angst#reo x reader#one shot#mikage#reo#reo mikage#reo x you#mikage reo x you#mikage reo x reader#mikage reo x y/n#bluelock#fanfic#bllk fanfic
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5k event request :P
Kazuha, light stick, and fluff please
a/n hi anon! when i saw light stick, i instantly interpreted it as those kpop light sticks,, im not sure if u meant something else like those glow sticks, so i am hoping this was what u meant HAHA
wc 700, idol!kazuha/fan!reader, im sure u guys have heard of the 6REEZE group somewhere, meet-cute; disclaimer i only know how auction works from my classmates roleplaying them so ignore accuracies for fic’s sake. bless.
5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST
Kazuha, to be frank, felt a little embarrassed.
His features stood out too much, his friends told him. To go out and enjoy the fresh air of the day, he had to not enjoy the fresh air with a face mask, conceal his red streak of hair by clipping it back and burying it under a cap, and wear green-tinted sunglasses (also to disguise the red of his eyes) that he was struggling to get used to.
In his defense, His friends weren’t any better. Aether’s braid could be recognized with only that, Venti’s glowing braids weren’t any better, Heizou’s shade of hair and green eyes would stand out—if not his unique voice, and everyone knew Xiao even if he were to shave all his hair off. Scaramouche could be salvageable, but one word from his mouth and his fans would fall to their knees—it could be his voice, but it would be the attitude.
Kazuha felt a little too hot with his disguise, but he wanted this, so he would go through with it. He tugged his mask under his nose, relaxing at the scent of the open air. The mall had an open area with trees all over; the leaves fell to the ground, and the wind brushed past. Kazuha couldn’t feel it, having been stuffed under layers, but he was satisfied.
Although it felt embarrassing to be clothed in this disguise, he couldn’t go outside this freely before. He was going to make the most of it.
And then he passed by a stall that had him doing a double take. Kazuha took a few steps back, lighting up with recognition. He couldn’t be mistaken, not with that familiar symbol of Anemo. The stall displayed a light stick of their group, released only a few days ago.
His friends would have a blast if he came back with it, most likely, Kazuha mused. Maybe he could bring it back as a gift.
A hand shot out from the side, blocking his view of the light stick. Kazuha blinked, a little surprised. He followed the arm's stretch and came face-to-face with an angry stranger.
“Hey, you!” you said. Kazuha felt like he needed to stand straighter at the tone. “I had my eye on this one first, ‘kay? Whatever number you have in mind—keep it. I finally get my hands on one of these; I’m not letting it go!”
“Oh, this was an auction?” he asked curiously. The stall didn’t seem to be being run by anyone at the moment, and no one else was there.
“Well, no,” you sniffed, “but I would win. I already told the seller I called dibs on this one—wait until she gets back.”
Charmed, Kazuha smiled. “Two thousand.”
“Three.”
“Three-thousand, five hundred?”
“Five-thousand, three hundred.”
Kazuha had to wonder: “How much do these usually cost?”
“Five thousand, if you’re lucky. I’ll make it ten thousand, easy. Are you still not backing down?”
Kazuha laughed under his breath. Were you serious? Were you actually willing to drop that much for this? “Alright, I cede. I apologize for attempting to defeat you.”
You grinned, eyes sparkling quite literally as your gaze slid back to the lightstick. You were very pretty. “Yeah, I thought so.” You eyed him curiously; Kazuha suddenly felt a little shy. “Are you a fan as well?”
Kazuha nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from your genuine smile for a few moments. His eyes drifted down to your shirt, which had the same Vision of the lightstick—but there was something else. “You could say that.”
Your shirt had maple leaves swirling around the logo, and Kazuha could recognize it all too well because he was asked to sit down and draw it for their merchandise—something personal for each member. Did Kazuha have the right to suspect what it meant that you were wearing his?
Emboldened, Kazuha gestured at the lightstick. “As a fellow enthusiast, may I extend my offer to cover this purchase?”
You blinked and stuttered. “W-What— You don’t have to! I literally stole it from you!”
“So you confess that you pried it off of me?” Kazuha teased.
“That’s not—Listen—” You stared at him, then got flustered. “Hold on, are you hitting on me?”
“Yes.” He took off his sunglasses and tugged down his mask, flashing a sweet smile that he knew was utterly unfair. Your face bluescreened out of pure shock. Without the mask muffling his voice, it was clear as day. “So, will you let me?”
#606: 5K EVENT#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#kazuha x reader#kazuha x you#kaedehara kazuha x reader#kaedehara kazuha x you
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