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house-of-lovin · 1 year

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love language

Tara Carpenter x F!Reader

masterlist | over (1) | safety net (3)

Summary: Tara Carpenter loves to play games with you. (inspired by love language by SZA)

Warnings: sexual themes implied, mature language. toxic!tara, jealous!tara.

Note: this was originally going to be a two-parter, but I wanted to keep writing about this dynamic. So I made it into three parts! Sorry for the long wait, I've been deathly ill the last few days, so it's been hard to do anything but sleep :/ but the last part will be posted tomorrow! (idk how i feel abt this but i tried my best lol)

Word Count: 3.7k+

Tara: ‘Last night was fun ;) but had to run!’

At least she had the decency to leave you a text as she left you to wake up in your bed, alone.

Sighing, you sit up; cracks and pops reverberate through the empty room as you stretch your stiff muscles. You run a tired hand on your face and glance at the spot beside you where Tara was just hours ago.

You should have known she would leave.

You weren’t sure if she even bothered to stay after you had passed from exhaustion after the fourth round. Tara rarely stayed over, her sister’s overprotectiveness made the occasion scarce. Coupled with the fact that the smaller girl thought it crossed boundaries to stay the night. So, the only time she had ever slept was when you fucked her senselessly she physically couldn’t make it home.

“Morning!” A loud voice interrupts the quietness in your dorm. “I bought the three of us some coffee. By the way, I didn’t appreciate coming home to you and Tara naked. You do you, but at least send a text – or hang a sock on the door… where’d Tara go?”

“Left…” You flush embarrassed, grabbing the shirt on your headboard to slip on, and stepping off your bed. Shivers run through your bare feet as you step on the cold floor.

“Oh…”

“Yeah… Oh.” You replied bitterly, moving to gather some clothes to start your day; even if it started off on the wrong foot already.

“...How does that make you feel?” She says after a few moments of silence.

“You’re not gonna therapize me right now, Minds.” You laugh, trying to avoid her probing tone. “It’s too early and I’m nearly naked.”

“You’re really gonna stand there and tell me it doesn’t bother you how she’s acting?” She crosses her arms, fed up with you and her childhood friend’s immature antics.

“Why would it bother me?” You say as evenly as you can. “We’re just hooking up.”

She scoffs, “Yeah right, Chad told me what happened at the coffee shop last night.”

You roll your eyes, “Of course, he did.”

“Point is… she’s playing games with you and you say that you’re fine with it because you're just hooking up but I can tell it bothers you, Y/N."

You stand rigid, unmoving and slightly uncomfortable. Talking about your feelings has never been your strong suit, maybe that’s why you fell so easily into this routine with Tara. It was all physical and lust-driven; no words have to be uttered when you two are tangled in each other’s sheets. But maybe, somewhere along the way lines began to blur the longer you got to know the Carpenter. The more your lives began to intertwine the harder it became to separate feelings during sex.

It grows increasingly difficult to ignore that thought, when she acts affectionately toward you around your friends. During movie nights, she’d scare off anyone else who dared to sit beside you; sharing a blanket and linking your fingers underneath. And in the classes you had together, she always made sure to save a seat for you beside her, leaning into you as close as she can.

“I promise… I’m fine. Tara can do whatever she wants.” You maintain eye contact with your roommate; trying to remain unbothered.

“I can’t deal with you two.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m just saying… you two have danced around each other long enough, maybe it's time you really talk to each other. Before someone gets hurt.”

You stay silent thinking over her words.

“Look... I really didn’t want to like you when I first moved here – getting stabbed makes people paranoid, you know.” She chuckles dryly. “But I guess the odds are finally in my favour 'cause I got a roommate I actually like… so figure your shit out because I’d like to keep hanging out together as a group please.”

You chuckle, breaking out of your trance. You send her a lopsided smile, appreciating her words. “I like being your roommate too, Minds.”

“Gross, this is too much for me now… go take a shower, you reek of sex.” She purposefully avoids your eyes, turning to grab her now lukewarm coffee.

You roll your eyes, laughing at Mindy's antics but grab some clothes anyway to start your day.

●●●

“So I just handed in my last assignment, which means it’s officially spring break for me… and everyone’s gonna be out tonight. Wanna come over?” Tara slides into your booth out of nowhere.

You flinch, slightly startled; dropping the pen you were using with a clang. You were currently in the common room on campus attempting to get some studying in before your final exam. “What?”

She rolls her eyes but smiles fondly at you. “I said, everyone’s out for the night. Come over… I miss you.”

Your cheeks flush as your heart darts wildly in your chest at her words. “We were just together last night…”

“Yeah, but I had to leave so soon cause Sam was coming home early.” She pouted, moving closer to you to swing her leg over yours.

You clear your throat, glancing down. “I still have to study for my exam tomorrow.”

“Come over after you study then…” She places a hand on your inner thigh, swiping her thumb on the fabric of your pants.

“Tara…” You were trying your hardest to gather some sort of self-control but it was becoming increasingly difficult when she started leaving light kisses on your shoulder. “Tara there are other people around.”

You were lucky you had chosen a booth that was tucked in the corner of the room, facing away from possible wandering eyes. Even still, this was definitely not the time nor the place, no matter how much you wanted to give in.

“Don’t care…” Her kisses on your clothed shoulder move upward toward your neck. You grab at her waist, trying to push her back. “Tara, seriously.”

She simply wraps her free arm around your shoulder, moving closer to you. “I’ll only stop if you promise to come over…”

You feel her bite down on the bruise you tried to cover up with your hoodie; you wince. “Ow… okay, okay. I’ll come over, now stop before someone reports us for public indecency.”

She rolls her eyes, but smirks smugly, unwrapping herself from you. You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t immediately feel cold from the lack of contact. “You’re no fun… but I’ll see you tonight.”

The Carpenter doesn’t say anything else. Just slides out of the booth, gathers her things and walks away from you.

You drop your head against the headrest of the booth, heaving out a heavy sigh. You feel like the most pathetic person in the world for giving in so easily, especially since Mindy’s words kept ringing in your ears all morning.

Later that night, you found yourself standing in front of the Carpenter’s apartment, contemplating if it wasn’t too late to turn around and run away. This is a bad idea and you knew it. You should have padlocked yourself in your dorm and not left until the weekend was over. But Mindy had convinced you this was the best chance for you to finally talk to Tara.

So here you were rooted dumbly in front of her door. Unable to bring yourself to knock.

The door opening makes the decision for you. “I heard you stomping down the hall, were you not gonna to knock?”

She has a smirk planted across her lips as she leans against the doorframe.

“Uh… I was just about to...”

You see her brow raise in amusement but doesn’t question your awkwardness; electing to pull you into her apartment with a tug on your wrist. “Come on… I have a movie on and popcorn waiting for us.”

You allow her to lead you through the apartment and then to the couch, pushing you to sit down. Upon sitting, you take a moment to scan the living room; taking note of the one light coming from the kitchen, casting darkness to the rest of the room. She has candles lit up on the coffee table across from you, with bowls of an assortment of snacks.

This suddenly felt more… intimate. You felt a pang of guilt for thinking she had only invited you over as a booty call.

“Um… what is this?” You ask dumbly.

“What’s it look like? Movie night.” She chuckles before plopping down beside you and draping a blanket over your legs. You feel her move closer, pressing your thighs together.

The two of you haven’t had a movie night since before you had fallen into this friends-with-benefits situation. They were actually the reason how you and Tara became closer in the early stages of your friendship.

Two months ago, she had invited you over for a movie night under the guise of simply being bored, but when she had opened the door you saw the slight redness in her irises and the tear-stained marks on her cheeks. You said nothing and just allowed her to pull you inside. In your attempts to cheer her up, you may have made a trip to the liquor store around the corner and drank away your sorrows with the Carpenter. That was the first night you and Tara had ever slept together.

“Oh… I just thought–never mind. Movie night sounds nice.” You smile, appreciating her efforts. Maybe that talk can wait another time. You didn’t want to ruin the night when she was clearly trying.

“Good.” She returns your grin, settling in to lean against you as she entangles your legs. “No talking this is my favourite part.”

“The movie just started.”

“Hush.”

●●●

Thirty minutes must have passed when you felt a hand run up and down your thigh. Your eyes snap away from the TV, looking down atop Tara’s head as she leans on your chest. You couldn’t see her face from this angle but you can tell she was enjoying how you tensed in her touch.

You ignore the movements, turning back to face the screen. But Tara doesn’t seem satisfied as she tilts her head up. The feeling of her soft lips brushing against your neck makes you stiffen even more in her hold. And like earlier, she begins to leave a litter of light pecks on your still-bruised neck.

“Tara…”

She hums, scooting up to reach your jaw. Her fingers tickle your sides as she slips her fingers under your shirt to grab your waist, shuffling to sit on your lap. Tara kisses that spot just under your ear that always makes you cave – marking you. She has you now and she knew it.

A part of you wants to bang your head against the wall because of course this movie night would eventually lead to sex. It always leads to sex with Tara. It was like a vicious cycle you couldn’t get off of. But the way she touches you feels so heavenly that you couldn’t even think clearly enough to stop her.

“Take this off…” She mutters, bunching up your shirt in a fist as she pushes it up. You pull back to obey her request, hastily yanking the fabric off your head and connecting your mouths in a harsh kiss. You slip your hand under her shirt, tracing your fingers dangerously close to the waistband of her shorts. She whines under the cold touch.

“No teasing…” She whispers before grabbing at your cheeks to pull you impossibly closer; the feeling of her tongue brushing against yours feels sinful.

You wrap an arm around her waist, ready to flip her on her back and take her on this couch when suddenly a frantic knock startles you both.

“What the fuck?” Tara mutters, pulling away from you but keeping a firm grip on your shoulders. She was panting heavily, lips already beginning to bruise.

“I thought you said everyone was out for the night?” You heave, also trying to catch your breath.

“They were…” She mutters, sliding off your lap to toss you your shirt. You slip it over your head swiftly, following the smaller girl as she walks to the door.

She takes a look through the peephole and the scowl on her face was an indication that she was less than pleased. Then she moves to unlock the numerous amounts of locks on her door, yanking it open.

The twins, Anika and Ethan stood on the other side of the door.

“What are you guys doing here?” Tara says unamused, crossing her arms over her chest. You move to stand behind her, connecting eyes with your roommate.

“Mindy said it’s movie night, so we came over,” Chad answers from behind his twin, holding up a plastic bag with a large smile on his face. “Don’t worry, we brought snacks!”

You send your roommate a glare, grateful Tara had her back to you. Slightly irritated because Mindy had been the one insisting you go see Tara.

Tara sighs, dropping her crossed arms. She glances at you for a brief moment, before opening the door wider to let the others in.

“I’m gonna make some more popcorn…” The Carpenter mutters, leaving the room.

You immediately corner Mindy. “What the hell, man? You told me to talk to her, what are you doing here?”

She raises an unimpressed brow, pointing at your neck. “Did she leave that hickey on your neck when you guys were talking too?”

You slap a hand on the spot she’s pointing at, attempting to hide it. “Shut up… I was going to talk to her later.”

“No, you weren’t.” She whispers, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “You two were going to have sex and ignore the talking part… like you always do.”

You cross your arms, scowling, “So you gathered the entire village to cockblock me instead?”

“Yes.” She responds unapologetically. You stare at your roommate for a few seconds. Eventually, you groan lowly, knowing she’s right. You were about to give in to Tara and until you two have talked about what this is, that probably wasn’t the best idea.

Ultimately, that chance to talk with Tara never came as the friend group all settled back in the living room to watch a plethora of movies for the rest of the evening. And when Sam came home, everyone knew to call it a night.

Maybe you dodged a bullet by not confronting Tara tonight. Not quite sure what you even wanted to say to her, yet.

Hey Tara, remember when we agreed to just be friends with benefits? Yeah well I caught feelings... actually I may be in love with you. And it hurts when you run off with other people. Ha. Sorry.

She would run away from you. Tara was like a deer, you needed to be cautious upon approach. But even then, it was getting increasingly difficult to just remain friends with her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Tara leans against the doorframe; watching as you slip on your jacket to leave.

“I have my exam in the morning, but maybe after.” You stand unmoving for a few moments, wanting nothing more than to leave a kiss on her cheek but her sister was standing right there, watching the two of you with an observant gaze. So instead, you squeeze her shoulder, send her a tight-lipped smile and catch up with the rest of the group down the hall.

You missed Tara’s disappointed frown.

●●●

“What’s wrong with you?” Anika asks over the loud music.

Since it was officially spring break for everyone; students who decided to stay on campus have been throwing parties non-stop. And currently, that's where Tara found herself; huddled on a couch on a Thursday night beside Anika and Mindy, sipping on a red-solo cup as she watches people drunkenly dance around the room.

“What? There’s wrong with me.” She glances at her friend, confused.

“You’ve been staring holes at the front door for the last ten minutes.” Mindy counters, peering over her girlfriend to look at her childhood friend.

“You can just say you’re waiting for Y/N.” Anika teases, bumping her shoulder. "We all know."

Tara rolls her eyes, “I’m not waiting for anyone.”

The Carpenter hears a scoff, “You didn’t even wanna go to this party until you heard she might be coming.”

You’ve been…distant with her lately.

Giving half-excuses as to why you can’t hang out, cancelling last minute on group activities or taking hours to respond through texts.

She hasn’t seen you since your friends crashed movie night and that was already a few days ago. You never did meet up with her the next day, and since then you’ve made yourself scarce; not hanging out with the friend group, always seemingly busy.

She had confronted Chad on your whereabouts, she figured he would know where you have been spending your time, given your… close friendship with the boy. But Chad had merely said you were helping your uncle with his shop uptown during the break, hence why you haven’t been around.

Tara was hoping she can get a chance to be alone with you tonight and ask why you have been so closed off with her when she caught wind that Chad might be dragging you to the party.

“Shut up.” She mutters, sipping on the cheap alcohol. “She’s been acting weird lately, I just want answers.”

The two girls nodded, unconvinced. For the amount of times, you two say you’re just ‘hooking up’ Tara sure played the part of the concerned girlfriend perfectly.

Eventually, Tara’s wandering eyes snap to the door, catching a glimpse of the top of your head as push past the crowd with Chad and Ethan trailing behind you. You seem tense, looking like you’d rather be anywhere else than here.

Before she can even think about it, she’s standing, about to stomp over to you but a hand on her wrist stops her.

“What?” She glances over at Mindy.

“At least, let Y/N grab a drink before you ambush her.” She reasons, glancing over at you from across the room.

Tara turns to find you, Chad and Ethan greeting a group of people, smiling and laughing. The group eventually trickles over to the kitchen, no doubt grabbing some drinks.

“Fine…” She mutters, sitting back down in her spot as you disappear from her sight.

Tara waits for you to come out of the kitchen for the next ten minutes; patience thinning by the second. This was ridiculous, you were literally another room away. Why is she waiting for you to come back?

As the smaller girl's eyes remain unmoving from the kitchen door, she eventually sees you walking out with an unfamiliar girl beside you. You were smiling, clearly entertained by the conversation. Tara feels an uncomfortable pang in her chest at your undivided attention towards the girl.

The Carpenter can’t help her moving legs as she stands, abandoning her cup on a random table; stalking toward you with an unrelenting gaze. Before you can even step into the living room, Tara is dragging you upstairs by the wrist; leaving the girl you were conversing with confused.

“What the hell— Tara!” You stumble behind her, desperately trying not to trip on the steps as she tugs you along with an unabated grip.

She pushes you through a random door, slamming it shut behind her. Tara crosses her arms just glaring at you.

“What’d you do that for?” You huff, feeling slightly irritated.

She raises a brow at your tone, “Wanna tell me why you’ve been distant with me lately?”

You stand straighter, “I’m not… I’ve just been busy.”

Tara chuckles dryly, “Busy enough to ignore my texts?"

You didn't answer and the scoff Tara lets out tells you it was the wrong choice to make.

"You didn't seem busy enough when you were entertaining that girl downstairs.” Tara couldn't stop the words from leaving her mouth, fed up with the silence.

She sees a flash of irritation in your eyes as you cross your arms, defensive. “Are you serious? Why do you even care? You’re not my girlfriend.”

Tara’s brows raise in surprise. For a brief moment, you regretted your words as she looked slightly hurt before her face drops impassively. “I didn’t know it was a crime to be worried about your friends.”

You scoff, “Yeah friends…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” She stares at you, not believing that for a minute.

“What is going on with you?” Tara steps forward, but you take a step back. This time, the Carpenter can’t hide the frown on her lips.

“I think we should stop this…us.” You gesture between you two.

“What?” Tara's forehead creases in confusion, unsure if she heard you correctly.

“I can’t do it anymore.” You mutter, eyes trained to your shoes; unable to look her in the eyes.

“Why?” She takes a step forward, reaching for your arm but you yank back.

“Cause I caught feelings!” You shout making Tara flinch; the repressed feelings you've been hopelessly trying to bury come hurling out; unable to keep them at bay. You knew this situation would only end in heartbreak the longer it continued. So you made the decision to break your heart first before she got the chance to. “I can’t do the games anymore… I-I'm tired, Tara. I think we should stop.”

“I–I…” Tara stutters, taken aback by your confession. "Y/N... we agreed we're just hooking up."

You laugh solemnly, roughly rubbing your eyes. Was it possible to feel your own heartbreak? That's really all she had to say? "Yeah... well too late for that."

"Y/N..."

“You don’t have to say anything else. You made your feelings clear. But I caught feelings, okay? I know it wasn’t part of the plan, but it just happened. So I’m sorry, but I just need some space at the moment.”

Without waiting for a response, you brush past the smaller girl, slamming the door behind you.

Tara stands rooted in her spot, unable to move as you leave her to process what you just said.

●●●

Reader:

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x reader #scream #scream movie #scream 6 #scream vi #jenna ortega

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dtrghost · 11 months

Text

closeness and proximity part.5

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, mega angst, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. violence, torture (reoccurring themes i know), angry ghost cause yes. FLUFF. YAY. Sexual situation to gain advantage over the enemy.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

word count: 3.7k

Simon sat with his team, his eyes trained on the seat she'd sat in when she was there last. It had been a week. A long, gruesome, week with her still out there. He was tormented each night by nightmares, some where he followed through and killed her that night, others where he had saved her, only to wake up to the harsh reality that he didn't.

He failed. She was gone, and she may never come back because of him. They cleared all the bases that came up on their radar, and for once he was glad she was such an asset to HQ. They had all available teams looking for her, Price being at the forefront of the search.

"Let's call it a night then." Soap sighed, everyone nodding in agreement, except for him as they expected. His head shot up, his eyes lighting in a rage that they'd been subjected to since he woke up after his rescue.

"Like hell we're calling it a night." He growled at him. The anger made Gaz and Johnny shrink back, Price squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"Ghost, please-"

"We've got nothing! No leads! No updates!" His hand pounded on the table with each mention of what they lacked.

"We're sittin' at this table like a bunch of lazy fuckers while she's out there-"

"And what would you have us do?" Price interrupted. The room grew tense as two angry, powerful men glared at each other.

"You don't think I wanna find her too? You don't think I'm doin' everything I can? We're tired, and we need to regroup. Nothing good's coming out of us like this." He knew he was right, he hated that he was right. He felt useless, and it pissed him off. He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"He's not lightening up until we find her."

"Can't blame him. Get to bed the lot of you." And with that, Price left too, feeling a similar anger to his officer when he slept.

~.~

Cold water pushed her weight back, shocking her awake as the liquid shot up her nostrils and soaking her completely. They used a powerful hose to wake her up after her beating her unconscious the night before, thankfully avoiding her face.

"Morning Sunshine, piss baby callsign yes?" His accent was thick, laughs going around the room as the water turned off. She forced her eyes open, taking in her situation once more. Not the best, not the worst. Her legs were kept free of restraints, but they just barely hit the ground with her hands chained to the ceiling. She spit the water in her mouth out, chuckling lightly as she nodded her head towards them.

"You'd know a thing or two about piss babies wouldn't you." His fist connected with her stomach, but with a puff of her cheeks, no reaction came. He tried again, and yet, nothing, no wince, her feet cementing into the ground so not even a swing either.

"Right~" She drawled out, a bit breathless as she took a look around the room as they stared back in mild shock from the lack of reaction.

"After a while they all feel the same. Let me out and I'll show you how to punch sweetheart." This was her play. Intimidation, sensuality, it worked on the weaker ones, and when she caught the gaze of some of them, she knew she got em. The plan formulated in her mind, and for now she'd tune it out. It was a messy technique, as while she was gone she'd have no idea what happens to her body, so deep into her mind that she couldn't feel anything. It was a severe form of dissociation, but it worked.

"They don't want us touching your face. But they didn't say anything about the rest of you." He pulled out two high power shock sticks, and she knew she was in for it. The pain was excruciating. She could taste the blood in her mouth as she bit down her lip to keep her screams in. It took her back, the feeling of her first round of ECT.

Soon he moved to just beating her, pounding on her body as if she were a punching bag.

Her eyes went blank for a minute, focusing on a spot on the floor as she slowly slipped away, all the pain in her body disappearing.

~.~

"Mrs. L/N. I asked you a question." The lawyer spoke, stepping closer to where she sat on the stand, the courtroom watching this young girl getting berated consistently for the last 10 minutes. Her siblings watched as she was nearing tears from behind the plaintiff, having already been on the stand testifying against their own parents.

"I-uh.. can you say that again?" It was the job of a lawyer to break the client, to force the truth, or whatever would benefit the person they were meant to defend, but this was a child, someone just trying to get by with her life.

"What happened 10 years ago, to your recollection." He repeated calmly. She refused to look at her parents, because if she did she'd lose her words, her ability to speak. So she stared at her siblings, her older sister giving her a smile in attempt to calm her down. But nothing that came out of her in the next few moments would keep that smile on her sister's face, in fact it wiped it from the face of the planet. The flood of words that vomited out her mouth left everyone floored.

Her mother screamed at her from the defendant's side, throwing the first thing she got her hands on at her daughter. The jury watched as a notepad hit her in the head, and all she could do was cry and cover her face. She accused her of lying, screaming profanities to anyone who listened as she was dragged out of the room. Her father on the other hand, he broke down.

That's not fair. She thought. Why is he crying? He was the reason why she was here, why she was confessing her shame, her disgust with herself in front of a room full of people. Why did he have the right to cry? She wanted to tell him to stop. To stop trying to steal their moments of recognition. But the words got lost somewhere, and she stayed quiet as she was escorted off the stand.

When she opened the door to leave, she noticed Simon leaning against the wall in front of her. She looked down at what she was wearing, and suddenly she was an adult again, wearing a ripped black tank top and dirty cargo pants.

"Time to wake up love. Things to do, noses to break."

"It's not looking too good for me Simon. Feels like my body's gonna give out before I get my chance." He shook his head.

"Told you about a week ago that there's not a thing you can't do. I intend to make sure you stick to that. Now get your arse out there and give em hell." She sighed, giving him one last look until she shut her eyes, ripping herself out of her trance.

Her eyes opened and she came to, the room empty with a single guard sitting at a small table next to her.

"Hey." She called to him, blinking the haze out her eyes. He looked up to her, his face lighting up in a way that made her internally grimace. She saw the desire in his face, and she fed into it. He made his way to her with a sultry walk. He was on the shorter side of the spectrum and she looked down at him.

"Hey honey." He hummed, his finger trailing down her cheek for a moment. She ran her eyes down his body, faking seductiveness to get a glimpse on what he had on him. A pistol, standard issue belt with some stuff she could use on it.

Bingo, keys.

"They call you a siren from where I'm from." His accent wasn't as thick, and his words were easily understood. She leaned forward, him following as she leaned towards his ear.

"Let me down and I'll show you what kind of noises I can make." As cliche as it was, it worked. His eyes darkened, his hand twitching over his keys as he felt her lips graze over his ears. Slowly, he flicked through the set he had, and with little work done on her behalf, one unlocked, his hand quick to grasp her wrist. Before he could get the other one, the door slammed open, revealing her original capturer.

"Hey!" He shouted. In a flash her head slammed on his, her foot kicking his gun from his holster, watching it fly from his waist towards her hand, and with a stretch she caught it. She swung it in her hand, putting a bullet in his head before turning it the idiot who let her out.

"Siren's a new one. Maybe that'll be my next callsign." And with that he dropped dead. She had to be quick, her arm now released allowed for one foot to have a farther reach, the keys hanging on her toe as she carefully tossed it up to her hand, the gun now being held in her mouth. She tried each key carefully, knowing if she moved too fast she'd fumble and risk dropping it with the uneven weight now causing her to sway. Her weight was on one arm, and it quickly got sore, so when she dropped to the floor she felt heavy and wobbly.

The pain she pushed off had began coming back to her, and before she knew it she was crouching to the floor, her head between her knees as she gasped for air.

She crawled to the door, having to use all her body weight and strength to push it closed due to it's steel material. She locked herself inside as heavy thuds raced to the room at the sound of the shots fired. The room was designed to lock from the inside so nobody from the other side could pick it, but it quickly became a detriment as they had to use what they had to try and open it another way. She unclipped the vest from one of the men, quickly putting it on herself. It was large on her, the chest piece hanging lower than she'd like, but there was no helping it.

Better than nothing.

She searched the bodies, finding two grenades, she could work with that. She unlocked it, rushing back to the corner on the left of the door, and when it burst open she pulled the pin, watching the soldiers jump back in terror at the explosive in their face. she rushed to the door, shutting it again and listening to the boom from a safer distance. She tuned in to her environment for any more steps, and when she heard none she pried it open again. She picked up someone's rifle that had been flung to the side.

No doubt people heard the explosion, and she was in for it when they came down. So she stocked. She went to any body that was still intact and took whatever gear they had, shoving it anywhere she had room. She was likely underground, noticing the long staircase up as she took in her surroundings.

With the heavy thud of boots, she inhaled and prepared.

Life or death.

~.~

Simon had stayed up that night, finding himself unable to sleep without being haunted by her face. He found himself jolting awake with a shout of her name, and he decided that if she couldn't sleep, and likely she couldn't, he wouldn't either. It wasn't until Soap burst through his door, out of breath that he moved an inch from his position.

He shot up from his cot, looking at him with hope.

"We've got something. Someone in a base near the border of Verdansk reported a need for reinforcements. Bodies dropping like flies from a single prisoner they had held there." It had to be her. HQ had hacked into radio frequencies since she had disappeared, hence the amount of missions TF teams were being sent on recently. The team scurried into the aircraft waiting for them outside, Simon anxious and itching to get there as fast as he could.

When they landed he was the first one out, hearing gunshots from inside the facility. Reinforcements had shown up the same time, and before they could rush in they were shot down, directing the attention to them rather than the person currently fighting for her life.

She twisted an arm, ducking under the arm of another and sweeping him off his feet with her leg, dragging the other down and slamming his head into the floor. She shot the next two before flipping a man attempting to grab her over her back and onto the floor.

She heard footsteps, the barrel of her gun being the first thing to face the front door.

"Hey! It's just me! It's Ghost." He called out to her, immediately putting his hands up in surrender as they finished clearing the ground outside. He noticed her deep, uneven breaths, her eyes mistrusting as she kept her gun up and pointing at him.

"Ghost-" His hand silenced his teammate for a moment, slowly taking steps to her. He watched her eyes flicker as his hand gently rested at the top of her rifle, pushing it down at an unhurried pace, not wanting to trigger her with quick movements.

"It's just me.. lovie." She could've cried. His hands went to her shoulders as she dropped her gun off to the side.

"You're safe now. Nothin' to worry about." She felt herself relax, all of her adrenaline fading as she soon collapsed. Whatever he was saying to her was left unheard, her ears muting as her eyes closed from the sheer exhaustion and overexertion of her body.

"We need to get her to medical now." Price told him, Simon one step ahead as he held her in his arms and rushed out the door.

She didn't wake up for 3 days, and for a full 72 hours he had not left her side. He ate his meals in her room, slept in the uncomfortable hospital chair, and when he used the bathroom he waited until he couldn't hold it anymore and rushed that too, his hands still wet from the sink when he sat down. He was gone for a maximum 20 minutes for the entire day, and only that long because Price volunteered to sit with her as he showered, wearing the clothes he brought from him.

One night it was pouring rain, the drops slamming against the window with lightning brightening up the room every so often and powerful thunder that shook the building. She awoke to it, finally, her eyes crusty and her throat dry as a bone. Her memory failed her for a moment, shooting up in her bed in a panic that jolted Simon awake. He immediately rushed to soothe her with a gentle call of her name, dragging her attention to him as his hand cupped her chin.

"You're safe. You're in a hospital, recovering. Deep breaths alright? Like mine." He placed her hand on his chest, guiding her through mimicking his breathing until she was calm. He gave her a moment to take in her surrounds, her voice hoarse and raspy.

"How long was I out?" He handed her a cup of water, watching her gulp it down hastily.

"Fuckin' hell. Slow down you're making a bloody mess on yourself." He muttered, watching the water flow down the sides of her mouth and down her neck as she exhaled after finishing.

"You try getting the living shit beat and shocked out of you for a week straight. Had to seduce my way out. Dirty fuckers." She scowled at the thought, placing the cup on the table next to him.

"Did anyone..." He trailed off, too afraid to finish the sentence.

"No. No they didn't." Relief had lifted off his chest, his body relaxing for a moment before looking back up at her. His guilt never left him, and he wanted nothing more than to apologize.

"I-"

"I'll call HQ in the morning for the team switch-" "No!" He should've felt embarrassed by how quickly he cut her off. She looked at him confused. Is that not what he wanted?

"I'm sorry, for what I said, what I did... It wasn't right. The last thing I want is you off my team." She didn't understand it. He saw what she was, a monster. She killed and tortured how she pleased. "Why the sudden change of heart? Don't tell me you're getting soft on me." She teased, making him roll his eyes.

"It's not your fault. You need help... Y/N. Which is why with some fighting with those bloody wankers at HQ you're on leave with mandatory therapy sessions." Her eyes widened, and for once, she had something to be happy about. She could make her therapy jokes become real. Her breathed hitched for a beat, a sudden realization dawning on her.

Someone fought for her.

She felt the familiar pad of his thumb stroke under her eye, and it wasn't until she felt a wetness sinking into her mask that she realized she was shedding tears again.

"Comere lovie." Lovie. She liked that one, she was certain about that. He pulled her into a hug. For the first time in years, someone embraced her. She felt herself crack, every guarded aspect of her mind shattered in that moment as sobs flooded through her body involuntarily. Just like he promised himself, Simon was there to help her through it. His arms around her were tight, as if she could share the weight of the world she carried on her shoulders and he'd help her lift it until she could do it on her own.

"I need to get a nurse to check on you." He muttered in her ear, feeling her shiver at the feeling of his breath dusting over her skin. She only tightened her grip.

"Can we just, stay like this for a while. Please." Her voice was small, quiet, and he couldn't help but agree, maintaining a constant vice grip around her. She felt protected, and she needed that. So she clung to him as if her life depended on it, and he held her for as long as she needed him to. He felt her weight eventually slump against him, her arms dropping as her breath evened out to the same one he'd memorized from her 3-day slumber.

He laid her back, pulling the sheets up to make sure she didn't get cold before finding a nurse. They checked her vitals, blood pressure, wounds, everything.

"She's healing well. Everything looks good. We'll keep her one more night for observation and then we can discuss taking her home." He nodded, and she awkwardly smiled and walked out, shutting the door behind her. Simon sat back down in his seat, feeling more relaxed than he had before.

Healing well, looks good. Those words repeated in his head over and over. He leaned forward, pushing his mask up to the bridge of his nose as he hovered over her for a minute. The serene look on her face, even in the dark was enough to make his heart stutter. The way her hair, now in it's natural state, free from a balaclava, looked as it sat around her head like flowers in a meadow. She still wore a mask that covered the lower half of her face, but this was the most he'd get to see her for a while, so he took what he could get.

He pressed a slow kiss on her forehead, embracing the moment for what it was before he pulled his mask back down and released the breath he was holding, letting himself fall back asleep to the gentle exhales he heard from her.

~.~

Next thing she knew, she was holding a duffle bag with all her work stuff in it, Team 141 standing with her as she stood in her front door. They escorted her home, filling her in on her therapy sessions, when they start, how participation and progress were necessary for her to be allowed back in the field after her leave was up. Price had been assigned to live with her for the time being to make sure she was adjusting well and attending her sessions. She had half a year, which was enough, and it was mandatory to continue during work.

She dropped her bag off to the side behind the door before looking back at her teammates, Price flopping on her couch with a sigh as his eyes closed.

"Well, bye." She went to shut the door, only for Simon's foot to stop it from shutting.

"Fuckin' hell. No thanks for the people who saved your life?" Soap scoffed, watching her roll her eyes as she reopened the door.

"Thank you my saviors. What would I have ever done without you." Her voices was monotone, clearly bored and wanting to lay down for a bit.

"Alright then. Just don't get yourself killed in the next 6 months before we come back yeah." Simon grumbled, rolling his eyes too.

"You're not visiting?" She questioned, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"We wanna see a full transformation. Adds to the extra shock factor." Gaz smiled, watching her sigh before she painfully opened her arms for a hug.

"One for the road I guess." The embrace was horribly awkward and lasted a solid 2 seconds before she pulled herself back with a clear grimace.

"Do we get to see what's under the mask?" Soap pressed.

"Do you ever not ask questions? No? Then there's your answer." She quickly shut him down, watching him deflate in minor amusement before turning to Simon. He grunted as her arms wrapped around his middle, frozen in place for a minute.

"Hug me back dickhead." She muttered. His arms wrapped around her with a huff, though they both knew he didn't mind.

"Why the hell does he get a special hug." Soap whined, watching her pull away.

"Because he doesn't piss me off. Now bye." She shut the door in their face, kicking off her shoes and throwing a sock at Price's head. He groaned and turned, looking at her through bleary, groggy eyes.

"When's my first session again?"

The last part will be next!! I hope you enjoyed this one, more ghost fluff!! LOVIEEEEEE. My all time favorite. She's getting somewhere, finally getting some much needed help. Again I hope you guys enjoyed this part and the next one will be out fairly soon because I'm impulsive!! See ya next time!

@thaprilks @bowtruckleninja @almightywdm

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yoonia · 23 days

Text

the bedroom hymns ● chapter xvi

⟶ Chapter summary | The many layers of mysteries that are present in the home castle are beginning to feel daunting. But the biggest mystery of all may have been about your magic. After your last encounter with Yoongi and finding yourself in a predicament which further questions the secret behind your family’s magic, you try to find ways to find your own solutions to grow stronger, to gain control of your magic, only to constantly being face with one obstacle after another.

⟶ Author’s Note | It took me a while to finish this part, so forgive me for my absence. I’m splitting what was supposed to be the filler in chapter 16 into two separate chapters because there’s going to be a lot of information dump happening and I don’t want to confuse everyone. So please don’t be surprised with the short chapter(s) coming. Thank you for your patience and have fun reading! [Ps. This is highly unedited so I’m sorry if there’s any mistake]

chapter xvi. respite

Quite some time has passed since the first time you began using the magic portals, long since you have arrived in this castle and learned about the existence of magic in this realm, and you are slowly beginning to notice the changes happening with your body.

It seems to you that the more you are using the portals, the easier your body becomes affected by their magic. Just as how you seem to be getting more sensitive to the flow of magic that is a part of the portals.

Returning from Grimm had costed you quite a predicament. Once again, the journey had drained your energy that you slept through the night and nearly woke up late the next morning after your return. Even the palace maids who have been tending to your needs since the day you came to the castle had become so concerned, thinking that perhaps you have gone ill.

It wasn’t until later in the evening when you figured out the reason why you have been feeling a deep fatigue coursing through your body each time you returned from your excursions. Not until the moment the royal physician was brought to see you after a full day of being listless, with barely any energy for you to have a meal.

The royal physician took his time examining your body thoroughly, yet once he deliberated his assessment, you were quickly taken by surprise, not expecting to hear him talk about your mana and how it had everything to do with the reason why you were feeling sluggish and drained.

“It seems to me that you have exhausted your mana. Have you perhaps been using it excessively as of late, Your Highness?”

“I—no, not that I recall. I haven’t done much but study with my tutor and keep myself busy with royal duties,” you simply answered as you laid back against the pillows, refraining from admitting openly that you hadn’t even begun training on how to wield your magic, much less to start getting to know about it at all.

You had no idea how much most of the people within the home castle have learned about you, or if any of them ever knew anything about your previous life at all. Particularly about your life back at The Citadel, back in the human realm where magic didn’t exist. You also had no idea if there was anyone within the castle who may have learned about the family’s magic and the responsibility that had been placed upon you to protect the secret behind the magic.

A part of you wished that you could have said something about it. Because maybe then you could find someone to help you solve the things you had wished to know. To find someone to confide in.

Someone who belonged in the castle, who was trusted by the King himself, instead of confiding to a member of the mercenary army suspected to pose a threat to the empire.

Shaking your head, you forced yourself to stop thinking about this—to stop thinking just how dependent you were becoming to the handsome and mysterious stranger that you probably shouldn’t trust—just as the royal physician shared with you another theory while being oblivious to your trailing thoughts.

“Then perhaps your body is having problems adjusting to the castle. The magic barrier that His Majesty, The King, has placed here is quite strong. It must have been draining your energy as you come in contact with it, or—” the physician stopped himself as he deliberated the issue further while rubbing at his chin. But then he suddenly started shaking his head, as if brushing away those thoughts with his lips curling downward in displeasure.

“No,” he began wondering to himself, brushing away whatever thought crossing through his mind as he murmured, “I doubt that His Majesty’s magic would feed on your mana. The barrier surrounding the castle would require a power source, but I can’t see anyone else other than His Majesty who would be powerful enough to provide such energy.”

That can happen? You couldn’t help but wonder. Has your father’s magic been feeding on your mana?

But that sounds—so terribly wrong.

Just as these thoughts continued to run rampant in your head, a faint tingle ran through your forearm while you were being examined, and you couldn’t help but remember how similar it felt to the sensation coursing through you whenever you walked through the magic portals.

Had it really been the reason? Have you been right for thinking that perhaps the magic portals have been draining your mana, your energy, feeding off your magic that had been lying dormant within you?

Is this why Father had insisted that I only use the portal only once a day and not more, and to not stay any longer than the time limit that he had given?

Or had it been the other way around? What if it has always been my mana which activated those portals, while the keys have only been the medium to help open the doors?

Clearing his throat, the royal physician brought your attention back to him as he gently reassured you, “I will leave you with some remedy and a special potion to help strengthen your mana and help you rest for the night until your body recovers enough. I will also leave a list of nutritions that could be added to your meal. It may help you heal faster if your body receive the proper sustenance needed for your recovery. I shall leave it in the hands of your personal maids so they could hand them to the royal chef.”

Your mind was still stuck in his previous comment and your own assessment of the condition that you found yourself in that you barely paid attention to his words, although you were still able to answer him with a soft murmur, “Thank you, Sir.”

The physician said nothing else after. “In the meantime, please don’t strain yourself too much, Your Highness. You have quite a delicate constitution which may require a lot of care,” he inquired, before softly adding, “I am sure that His Majesty would prefer that you take care of yourself well until he returns home.”

You said nothing other than gratitude to the royal physician as he made his leave, allowing you some privacy and enough time to have your much-needed rest. Yet the silence that you were left with couldn’t stop you from spending the night wondering, thinking back to everything that he said; about your mana being drained without you realising it.

Looking down at your hands as you kept them rested on your lap, you slowly opened your palms. There hadn’t been enough books in the library that could have given you any clue on how to make use of your mana and practice your magic.

You could only figure this out simply because you had tried to look. Out of all the magic books that you had been digging into in the library outside of your tutoring hours, you had found little to nothing that was written about any magic that may conjure portals. At the very least, nothing that seemed similar to the magic that your father had cast in these portals.

And there had been nothing other than the old scriptures you found about ancient fairies and their ability to move between space and time that sounded similar to those portals. Although there were mentions of these ancient beings traveling to many different parts of the realm, even crossing between realms.

But what if there was something in those scriptures that could explain about the source of your father’s magic? Had there been something in those texts that you had missed?

That night, as you slowly drifted into sleep under the effect of the potion that had been given by the physician, you made a promise to yourself to return to those scriptures and learn more about the magic that was written in them. You fell asleep that night feeling hopeful, determined to find the roots of your father’s magic.

Perhaps, with a little more digging, you would find the reason why he had left you with such a huge responsibility of keeping this magic as a secret, while setting things in motion to have you venturing into those portals and to walk across the parts of the world hidden behind them so blindly.

Perhaps, you could also find the answer to one of the biggest secrets that he has been keeping from you and everyone else for years.

The secrets about your mother.

“I might have to show it to you to prove it…”

Yoongi’s voice echoes through your mind as if it bounces against the invisible walls standing all around you.

The words that he gave you seems to have been engraved in your memory ever since the day you met him in Grimm, and they keep haunting you both in your dreams and during your waking hours. It has been a couple of days since, yet it still feels like yesterday when you parted ways with Yoongi in the dark forest of Grimm.

Since then, you have been overcome with a deep feeling of regret.

The regret for not being able to have more time to spend with him. The regret of not being able to catch his sight, to be completely helpless as you watch him getting swallowed under the thick foliage, held back by fear that had a tight grip in your chest.

And you also feel the regret that always comes to haunt you whenever you recall about the offer that he made that day. When he reached out to you, offering to assist you in learning more about your magic. You hate thinking that you might have missed out on a chance to figure out your magic.

But it couldn’t be helped, after all, when your father’s voice—repeating the same words and warnings about how important it was to keep the family’s magic a secret—kept echoing through your head while you were staring at Yoongi’s extended hand which he offered you that day. You had felt the itch to reach out to him, to accept his hand, even if it was only for the sake of feeling the gentle touch of his fingers on yours instead of actually having him help awaken the magic that was lying dormant inside you.

Yet you just couldn’t do it.

And now you are left with the constant wonderings—all the what ifs and what could haves—while the long list of regrets that are still lingering with you becomes the reason why you keep seeing in in your dreams.

The dreams are never the same.

In one dream, you recounted the moment you refused his offer. Only this time, you had stepped away from him at the tavern, choosing to end your time together earlier than what you had intended to so you could escape his attentive eyes. In another, you haven’t even heard the same words spoken by Yoongi before his image vanished right in front of your eyes.

But there was one particular dream that appeared so vividly that you continued to see it even during the daytime, taking over your idle mind with his presence as if you were taken back to that moment, when you sat right across from him with his deep, unwavering gaze locked on yours.

“I might have to show it to you to prove it…”

You never truly understood what he meant by saying those words, but in this dream of yours, none of it mattered. And your father’s voice hadn’t been there to stop you from leaning forward at the table to give him your rapt attention. Your mind was also silent, and the thunderous sound of your heartbeat faded away when you spoke to him,

“How?”

“Give me your hand.”

Time seemed to remain still as you reached out to him, giving him your hand. You barely touched the tips of his fingers when something magical happened; as a bright sparks of silver dust light up between both of your hands, with specks of blue dust erupting the moment you made contact with his skin, and the same tingling sensation that you had often felt from the portals came surging through your arms before settling inside your chest.

Before your mind could ever make sense of what was happening, the light only grew brighter, and everything faded under its blinding glow which later pulled you away from the dream. And as you slowly woke up, finding yourself lying on your bed alone, nothing else remained from the dream, except for the tingles running across your skin which took their sweet time to fade away.

Stepping out of the treasure room, you clutch the golden pocket watch in your palm, feeling victorious that you finally have it in your hand.

You had come to the treasure room right before your afternoon lessons with your tutor, hoping that you would be able to find anything that might be useful for your next trip through the portals. Your father had been right, after all, that the treasure room may provide you with anything that you may need to support your daily activities while you adjust with your new life at the castle.

Like a pocket watch, for example.

Something that is so small and simple, yet crucial for the sake of your safety while you are out there, roaming through any foreign land that the portals are taking you.

Why have I never thought of this before?

You cannot help but wonder as you look down at the ticking watch in your hand, regretting that you didn’t think of getting one in the first place. It could have saved you a lot of trouble if you had.

The last couple of trips you made had been risky, as you kept cutting it too close to the time limit that had been given to you by your father, only missing merely minutes or even seconds before the portal started closing behind you after you slipped back through.

You had nearly gotten into a bigger trouble when you returned from Grimm, almost missing a toe when you barely managed to return to the portal before it closed on you. You blame it to your impulse need of chasing Yoongi into the deep forest when you started to feel like he was slipping away from and disappearing for good.

It was after that incident when you finally learned your lesson and decided that something needed to change. That you would need something to hold onto which may help you to keep up with the time, instead of simply relying on the signs of dusk as a reminder to let you know when it was time to return home.

The idea first came to you after observing Lord Gordan, the royal aide and the head butler of the castle, while he was working on his duties. You had often seen him pulling out a golden watch from the pocket of his suit to help him tell the time, and wondered if it would be something that you could make use of.

After receiving the royal physician’s approval to return to your daily duties this morning, you feel like you are ready to embark on another adventure. With this golden pocket watch in your hand, the magic necklace that had been passed down to you from your late mother, and the dagger hidden under the skirt of your dress, you feel as if you are unstoppable, ready to face anything that may come to your path as you walk through the portal later once your tutoring hours are over.

Now if you only could just find a way to calm the restless thrums of your heartbeat inside your tight chest, then everything would be well. That is all that you could only hope for, at the very least, as you make your way to your tutoring lesson.

Because what better way to find answers other than to gain them straight from the people who are in charge of teaching you everything that is needed to learn as the heir of throne? Who else would know the answers you need, other than your tutors?

“You want to—” Lady Laurel carefully repeats your question. She is looking slightly wary to even voice it out loud, even if it is just the two of you in the library that her voice is lowered when she continues, “—practice using your magic?”

You have only been away from the library for a couple of days while you were resting, only keeping contact with Lady Laurel by corresponding through letters and the books that she had left behind through your personal maids for you to read.

Today would be the first day that you are back with your daily lectures. You could tell from the moment you saw Lady Laurel sitting by the study desk in the library as she waited for you to arrive that she had a lot of things planned out to keep you busy for the day.

But you have come up with your own plan when you marched your way to the library.

For weeks now, Lady Laurel had filled your private lessons with lectures about the fairy tale land to get you to know this new realm a lot more. So far, you have learned about its history, about the kingdoms and the people, even the non-human beings that you may find should you ever have the chance to visit those lands—elves, fairies, werewolves, even human mages—and you have heard about the real events that are the makings behind all the tales known and shared in the human realm.

During those long weeks, Lady Laurel had also been teaching you the basic knowledge of magic; the types of magic that you may encounter and each of their origins, the history behind them, and the ancient spells that have been written in the textbooks that you have found in the library during your solo studying.

She was also the one who first taught you to find a way to identify your mana.

She had mentioned how it would be helpful in the future should you start using your magic, as you would have become familiar to the mana flowing inside you by the time you begin your magic practices. If only she knew with what you have been doing once you were done with her lessons, how you have been using the theories that she had taught you into practice once you were left on your own.

There has been nothing much that Lady Laurel could teach you in her lessons other than the ability to reach within, to feel the presence of your magic and have a good grip on it, to recognise it as a part of yourself instead of something that simply appeared in your body overnight. But your solo practices that you have been doing in the shelter of your bedchamber had taken it a step further, enhancing it until you could make use of it to recognise and then respond to the magic that exists around you.

Just like the way you had used it to respond to the magic in the portals and to recognise Yoongi’s inner mana.

Yet that is just as far as both of you could get. You could tell that there are restrictions that your tutors would need to follow when they are guiding you through your lessons. Because not once had she ever tried to do more; whether it was to help you unleash the magic inside you, nor to use it by conjuring the magic for a purpose.

But you want more. You have been ready for more. And after your last encounter with Yoongi, you have gained the courage to express your desire to learn how to properly use your magic more actively. To learn how to expel its powers and make use of it for your own benefit.

And that is exactly what you said to your tutor the moment you joined her at the library’s study area, as you were taking the seat right across from her as you usually would during your tutoring hours.

Keeping your eyes on Lady Laurel, you try to gauge her reaction. Even from the moment you had first thought of bringing this up to her, you had expected to have an intense response from her, and for her to straight up refuse your request.

And you have been prepared to deal with whatever the outcome may be, knowing that you are not going to back down that easily.

“Yes, that is exactly what I said,” you answer her with your chin raised, feeling determined about taking the next step into learning how to use your magic. “I want you to teach me how to unlock my magic and help me practice using it, instead of just trying to feel it. Because I already know that it’s there, lying almost dormant inside me without me knowing how to use it to protect the people who are dear to me, which is something that I want to be able to do.”

These thoughts have been running through your head for the past few days while you were being holed up in your bedchamber under the royal physician’s restrictions. The feeling of want and the deep curiosity you have to know more about your magic, to be able to reach within yourself so you could somehow wield it so that you could make good use of it, has been growing stronger that you can no longer deny it.

That need had been lingering in your thoughts that it was almost impossible for you to remain idle during your bedrest, and you had then taken the risk to secretly try to find ways to unlock your magic on your own.

You just couldn’t help it, after all. When you had nothing else to fill your time with aside from watching the scenery outside of your windows and reading the pages of your books, until neither could easily calm the havoc happening inside your mind. So you stole the short chances you could get between the hours you were given to rest under the heavy medication and the constant flurry of lady maids coming and going into your room as they attended to your needs.

Using the vivid images of your dreams, the basic knowledge of magic that you learned through your lectures, and the small facts about your magic that you learned from Yoongi as your guidance, you had spent your quiet nights trying to get in touch with the magic that was believed to be coursing through your body.

You tried everything you could; from using your necklace to see if it could bring out the mana inside you, to copying Yoongi’s action which you saw in your dreams, by placing your hands together to see if it could bring out your magic.

But no matter how hard you tried to concentrate and tried to cast your magic out through your fingertips, nothing seemed to be happening. Nothing more but a surge of energy crawling its way from your palms, through your fingers, stopping at each tip, before they vanished into your veins.

And you continued to try, until there was nothing left but the exhaustion rolling through your body and the missing warmth of Yoongi’s hand which your body seemed to have memorised from that day and what you are now craving to feel the most.

Having to openly ask your tutor for her help had been your last resort, knowing that she has her limits to what kind of guidance that she could offer you in learning about magic. Yet you had every reason to harbour some hope that she would somehow comply with your request.

Oftentimes, whenever you would try to inquire about any specific theories to learn about during your lectures, Lady Laurel would have embraced it—she has always loved your curiosity and your eagerness to learn—and grabbed any chance that she could have to share any knowledge about the realm that you were still struggling to understand.

This time, however, she seems uneasy to hear your request. Not because she is reluctant to teach you about magic, as she has been doing so ever since the first day she started her lessons. What seems to make her reluctant about this is the fact that you are asking her to help you learn about your magic.

With a remorseful sigh, Lady Laurel leans forward in her seat. Reaching out across the desk, she places a gentle grip on your wrist. “Your Highness, I’m sure that you are curious to learn more about your magic,” she begins with a polite smile, “But His Majesty had specifically inquired—”

Before she can finish her words, you immediately cut her off.

“I know what my father said”—as you have repeatedly said each time I tried to bring this topic up before, you silently wonder with a frown—”but His Majesty has yet to return, while here I am, feeling like my soul is slowly being sucked out of my body without understanding why. Maybe if I could control my magic, things will be different and I’d know how to prevent something like this from happening again.”

Through the letters that you have been exchanging with your tutor, you had explained everything that the royal physician had relayed on you about your condition.

At first, you simply mentioned about your draining mana in your letter to try and ask for her opinion to see if this was something that could possibly happen. Without mentioning the secret doors and the magic portals in your letter, you questioned her if there was anything that you may have come in contact with which might be able to drain your mana without you ever realising it.

The response that you were given with hadn’t been enough to answer your curiosity. But there was something in her letter which caught your attention, when she explained in a rather plain sentence—

“There are certain elements that have been built all over the castle, each one imbued with His Majesty’s magic. Perhaps, with His Majesty being gone, these elements have been trying to find a new source of energy. I have highly suspected that your magic might be similar to that is of the King’s, which made it possible for the energy around you to mistakenly drain your mana to fill whatever they are lacking.”

“You know very well the reason why I would have to refuse taking over your magic training, Your Highness,” Lady Laurel regretfully says as she pulls back. You hate how genuine she seems to be as she is saying all of this, about the regret of not being able to fulfil your wishes, as she is being held under the King’s orders.

It wouldn’t be until later when you notice the unspoken words hidden perfectly in her response, that she isn’t refusing your request because she isn’t capable of doing so. Because she is capable. But she is also bound under your father’s rules when it comes to your lessons.

“All I can do without His Majesty’s guidance would be to guide you to become in tune with the mana that you have inside you, preparing you for the actual training that you are about to have under the King’s guidance himself,” she continues, and just like that, she turns to pick up the guidance textbook and the set of candles that she would use during these sessions, ready to start another one of her practices that she has been introducing you as of late. “We can continue to do that today and see how far ahead we can go this time. The last time we did—”

Once again, you cut off her words before she could finish talking. “The last time we had our lesson, you were helping me identify my mana and how to channel onto it so I could feel its flow inside me.”

And to recognise it without exposing your magic form. Something that you have caught on after a while and seems to be one of the main tasks given to her when your father passed down the duty of tutoring you while he is gone. But you say nothing of this.

After all, if you are trying to convince her to change her mind and sneak behind the King’s orders to fulfil your wishes, the last thing you should do is to show her that you have figured out all of her cards—the little tricks that she had played to skirt around the subject of your magic.

You may never figure out the reason behind all the secrecy about the family’s magic, or why your father would prevent anyone from helping you in unlocking your magic without his presence. But oddly enough, the more you think about it, the more you understand why your father would take such measures.

The magic that he uses to create the portals wouldn’t have been a regular kind of magic. You can tell that it is something special, something that your father has treasured for a long time, even before you ever came into the world.

But would your magic be anything similar to what your father has, just like what Lady Laurel previously claimed? Would you be able to create your own portal one day to find your own escape?

As if answering your question, Lady Laurel gently speaks to you, “I know that you are curious, and the lessons that you have been getting so far no longer seems to adequate to your needs, as you have gotten enough of the basic knowledge that you could gain in such a short amount of time. All I can ask of you is for you to be patient for now. His Majesty will be returning soon, and he will be able to guide you with your magic and answer a lot of your questions.”

As much as you hate backing down, you realise that you have no other choice—at this moment, at least—but to give up, and follow your tutor’s advice.

“I suppose, I can be a little more patient,” you finally say to her with a sigh.

Your acceptance seems to please her, as a smile grows on Lady Laurel’s face. She beams as she rings the bell to summon the maids for a serving of tea and snacks to accompany your lesson, just like always. And while in waiting, she continues to set up all the books of magic that she would need for your lesson, followed by lighting up the set of candles that she has laid out in front of you.

“Let’s continue with our practice on your focus today,” Lady Laurel says to you as she returns to her seat while gesturing you to keep your eyes on the flickering flames. The same way that she has always guided you during your focus training.

This practice might be far off from helping to unlock your magic, yet you still have to admit that this practice may have been quite helpful so far. Because it was through this practice that you had inadvertently figured out one of the skills that you have developed ever since you started learning about magic.

The skill which allows you to trace and identify others’ mana; be it within a person or a place.

The same skill that you revealed to Yoongi the last time you were together.

As you try to empty your mind and focus on the flickering candlelights, the dejected feeling that came over you earlier is slowly being lifted when you remember that this day is still far from ending, and you still have other tutors to turn to.

So you try to make it through the end of your lecture, doing your best with your simple training, Even if it only means that you will be walking out of here in the afternoon with sharpened focus. Perhaps it might be able to help you later by preventing you from falling asleep too soon if you ever decide to try to unlock your magic on your own again.

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aperrywilliams · 1 year

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Pandora's Box II (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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Author Masterlist / Author Taglist / Part I

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader doesn't know what to think after the kiss between Spencer and Cat. Insecurities about their marriage surface in both Reader and Spencer. How severe will the consequences of what Cat did be?

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Most of Spencer's traumas are only mentioned (Hankel, Dilaudid, Diana's illness, etc.). Angst and a lot of inner thoughts (I mean it: a lot). But not despair, my friends, happy ending.

A/N: Hello! Here is part two of Pandora's Box. Thanks a lot for all your comments, likes, and reblogs on part I.

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Spencer's POV

Cat did it again. No. Scratch that. I did it again.

I'm still seeing her eyes full of betrayal. God, how did I let this happen? How I was not able to think of something else to do. I'm so stupid!

I thought about running after her to stop her and convince her to go home with me. But I know (Y/N), and it would have been worse to insist when it was clear that she was shocked and hurt.

That leads me to now be in our shared bed, staring at the ceiling as I sink into my own mortification. Emily and JJ called me several times during the night, but I didn't feel like talking to anyone. I just texted them that (Y/N) was fine, but I screwed it up, and she hated me now. I don't know why I thought that would stop the calls. It was the opposite, but I decided to ignore my phone from there. I knew that (Y/N) would not call or text me either. Besides her getting rid of her cell phone, I was the last person she wanted to talk to.

How do I fix this?

The more I thought about it, the more complicated it became. We were not only talking about me kissing Cat Adams. It was more than that. And even if (Y/N) didn't go further saying how bad she was feeling, she slipped a hint. And it hurt. It hurt to know I was hurting her. Maybe Cat was right. I was not made to have a normal life and be loved like that. Perhaps I didn't deserve her.

Spencer, stop it! Don't fall into Cat's game. She wanted this to happen. She wanted to ruin your marriage, I repeated myself.

The funny thing is maybe I ruined it first.

Tossing and turning, I couldn't find a way to fall asleep. That brought me to the months I spent in jail when I barely slept an hour in a row. Endless nights were I missed (Y/N) 's body next to me. Nights where I swore to myself that if I made it out of there, I wouldn't waste another minute without making her my wife. So I did it. The very day I was released from Milburn, I got down on one knee and proposed to her. No ring involved, just a promise to spend the rest of my life with her, loving her and raising a family.

Two years since that, and now I think about the things I promised and what I have fulfilled. I feel terrible realizing that I have failed her.

Tiredness got me at some point, but my brain didn't stop working. I dream about (Y/N). It was a sweet dream that turned into a nightmare when she told me it was over. That ours was over.

I woke up sweating and screaming.

I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let my incompetence makes me lose the best thing that had happened to me in life.

After showering and getting dressed early in the morning, I went to our habitual coffee shop and bought her favorite coffee and donut. I stopped by her dad's and left a bag with the treats and a note. A tiny gesture compared to the mess I had made, but I needed to tell her I was there even if she didn't want to see me.

Reader's POV

I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't.

After explaining the previous day's chaos to my dad - partially though, because I didn't want to give in to the embarrassing details - he let me stay in my old bedroom.

Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Spencer kissing that psycho over and over again.

I could see how his hands held her head, his eyes closed, lost in the sensation. Their lips moving in unison. His body pressed against hers.

Has he ever kissed me like that? Yes. He has. That is precisely the way I liked to be kissed.

When we started dating, Spencer was so shy at first, but he freed all the passion within him over time. I always wished to be the only one to see and feel him like that. And I really thought I would be the only one with that privilege. It seems I was wrong.

Why does it hurt so much? I mean, Spencer wouldn't do that to me, much less with that crazy bitch, right? I could bet he did not even want to do it.

Maybe it's the fact that there's a fucking Jiminy Cricket in my ear telling me things between Spencer and I aren't going well, and this shit is another proof that there will always be something interfering between us.

It terrifies me to think this could lead to the end of us, but I can't deny the idea has been on my mind for a while. It's true that we have never talked about it. It's true I have tried to deny that Spencer's absence affects me more than I let on. Has he noticed anyway? I'm afraid to know.

The next morning when I got to the kitchen, I saw my dad making coffee. Over the counter was a paper bag with my name written on it. It's Spencer's. I would recognize that handwriting anywhere.

"You don't have to open it," my dad told me, sensing the internal debate in my head. "I just brought it inside so you can decide if you want to do it or not."

It wasn't the only decision I needed to make, though.

Curiosity got the best of me. Inside the bag was my favorite coffee and donut. Of course Spencer knew it. Tucked in the coffee cup holder was a note.

'My love. Don't think this is me hoping that with just a coffee and a donut, you would forgive me. It is just a way to tell you I'm thinking of you. We have so much to talk about, but I won't push you to do it until you're ready. Please, only remember that I'm here, and I love you. Always yours, SR.'

Tears clouded my vision. I love him. That's not in discussion. But to be with someone is more than to feel love. It's about giving and receiving. It's about comprehending and being comprehended. It's partnership and complicity, things that have been away from us for a while. I will not blame Spencer for that because I have much to do with it. I should have said something. Is it too late now?

I took the lid off and sipped the coffee. I was thinking of him too.

Spencer's POV

Three days. The longest days of my life. Am I overstating? I don't think so. Because even if we had been apart for longer than three days, these circumstances made it worse.

The anxiety was killing me. Those days I went to work by inertia, unable to concentrate or be useful in any way. It was hard not to go over the last few months in my head. The signs, the unsaid things. The looks of disappointment when at any moment, the phone rang, and I had to leave.

Prentiss caught me deep in thought that afternoon.

"You okay?"

"Uh - yeah. I just got distracted. Sorry," I apologized. Emily shook her head and sat beside me.

"We both know it is more than that. Do you want to talk about it?"

I sighed, leaning back in the chair. I had the question on the tip of my tongue.

"Do you think fifteen years is a long time?"

Emily raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher the question's implication, but I knew she understood why I was asking.

"Well, I guess it depends on what you compare to," she ventured with a reassuring smile.

"I mean, doing this job. I had spent my whole adult life in the BAU. And don't get me wrong, I love my job-" I trailed off.

"But?"

"I love (Y/N) too, and I'm not good enough conciliating this job with my marriage. I can't make it work as JJ does," I confessed.

"If it is the case, having some time off should work to return some balance, but something tells me it's not the biggest problem," Emily asserted. Of course she did. She knew me better: it was more than the lack of time.

I chuckled bitterly.

"We have been only married for two years, and I feel I have failed her too much already. I mean, I was the one who said I needed to slow down after everything that had happened in Milburn. (Y/N) has been by my side in so many hard times. She was the first one I told about my addiction. She was there after the Anthrax episode. She took care of me when I got shot in Texas. I ran to her when they told me about my mom's Alzheimer's. Then jail happened. What else would she have to put up with? JJ's confession and being kidnapped by a cult. And now Cat again? Fuck, she saw me kissing her! The same woman who framed me for murder. How twisted is it?"

"She loves you too much," Emily pointed, trying to get me out of my rabbit hole.

"And I love her, but I always find a way to show otherwise, uh?" I mocked myself. I really felt like I was screwing up over and over.

"Spencer, none of those things have been your fault."

And maybe Prentiss was right. That didn't exempt me from my blindness, though.

"But it's been enough to have done something about it. Emily, I couldn't bear to lose her."

I could feel the lump forming in my throat.

"Spencer, she knows you love her. She married you for who you are. You just told me she has been with you in the toughest moments. You won't lose her."

How can she be so sure? I knew things never last long. I have seen people leaving me before.

"You know? It breaks my heart when I have to leave every time. (Y/N) always says she understands my job and never has demanded something from me. Still, I know she worries as hell every time I'm in the field, and I know there have been moments when she needed me, and I couldn't be there for her. I'm her husband! I promised to be there for her! Having more time could help, yeah, but I'm tired of this rhythm. I'm tired of being on the tightrope. I'm tired of the Tobias Hankels, the Cat Adams, the Mr. Scratchs-"

I had to stop my rant because I got out of breath.

"Well, if this is the matter, I think fifteen years is a long time then," Emily told me with a knowing look, patting my shoulder.

As a cue, my phone got a text: 'Are you in town? Can we talk?'

Reader's POV

Not two minutes had passed since I sent the text, and Spencer had answered, asking me when and where we would meet.

I figured it would be a complicated conversation, so I suggested it be in our apartment after work that day.

It's not like I wanted to torture Spencer for three days before to talk to him, but the events with Cat triggered a series of thoughts I didn't want to admit before. And the truth is, I wasn't sure how to deal with this. In fact, standing in front of the door and about to open it, I'm still not entirely sure what to say, just sure we can't keep putting this conversation off.

"Hi," Spencer said when he saw me. He was still in his work attire; only the tie was missing.

I returned a tight-lipped smile, stepping into the apartment.

I turned after closing the door, and Spencer just stood there, fidgeting with his hands. He was nervous, and so did I.

"Coffee?" He offered. I shook my head.

"No, thank you."

"O-okay," he mumbled, moving to the living room and gesturing to the couch for us to sit on.

Now we were both seated, maintaining a safer distance between us. Someone needed to break the silence. Spencer cleared his throat before speaking.

"About the kiss, (Y/N), I'm so sorry-" I cut him off.

"Spencer, not that yet. You need to start telling me what happened. It still confuses me how we ended in your old apartment with Cat Adams there."

Spencer nodded and recalled the events of that day: since the moment Penelope called him when we were at the coffee shop to him and Cat at the threshold, kissing.

After hearing the whole story, I couldn't understand how someone could set up something so elaborate to annoy someone else. Well, I don't know why I should be surprised; we were talking about Cat Adams, after all.

"Okay. So you thought a family and I were in danger. And she demanded a kiss. And you thought that would help," I filled. Spencer sighed, looking at his hands on his lap.

"Honestly? I didn't think anything. I felt trapped and knew I had no leverage on her. The opposite, actually. She was in control. I let her have me at her mercy," he confessed.

Spencer at Cat's mercy. Well, it wasn't the first time.

"You didn't seem troubled kissing her," I said bitterly. "I know it sounds childish, but you haven't kissed me like that in what? Months? It felt like I was nothing in your life, Spencer. It was like I didn't even exist and was watching a movie."

My voice cracked a bit while saying those words. Even imagining that I might not exist to Spencer made my stomach churn. It was worse to think I had already been losing him for a while or that perhaps he was never mine.

"(Y/N), that's not true. I -" Spencer tried to rebut quickly. I could feel the guilt in him.

"Spencer, it's okay. I can understand you were under pressure. But it was the way I felt. What would you think if your wife made out with the person who made her life a living hell for a long time?" It was a rhetorical question, though, because I would never do that to him.

"I know. And you might not believe me, but I was thinking of you. You were in my mind at that moment. Cat told me to do it as if she were you," he acknowledged. That didn't make me feel better. I let him know that.

"And you complied. That's the thing, Spencer. It's not the kiss itself; it's the fact you did what she told you. Again."

Spencer averted his gaze from me. He was embarrassed, and I hated being responsible for doing that, but he needed to know. I was done keeping things to myself.

"That makes me realize you're still caught up in her twisted game. Cat will never stop tormenting you, and I don't know what else I can do to help you. And it hurts me because I feel I'm not enough, Spencer. I'm not enough to really be by your side and be who you need."

Treacherous tears began to run down my cheeks. That was the admission I didn't want to reveal. After all these years, I thought, at some point, I could be in tune with Spencer's life. That's why I never said anything. I yet harbored the hope of living up to his expectations all this time.

"Don't say that! It's not true!" He argued, scooting closer to me on the couch, no longer afraid of proximity. "You are everything and more that I have ever needed and wanted. God. I love you, (Y/N). If anything, it's me who feels not worthy of your love. And I'm sorry, you are the most important person in my life, and I haven't shown you that."

"Then why do I feel then we are falling apart, Spencer? It's me imagining things?"

Spencer shook his head, a tentative hand reaching mine. I doubted for a second, but I welcomed his touch.

"It's my fault you're feeling this way. Believe me; you didn't do anything wrong."

His fingers stroking my hand resembled the way his touch always comforted me. In other circumstances, I would have believed nothing had changed between us.

"Are you sure? It's like we're becoming a couple of strangers. And I cannot understand if something about me bothers you or if I am simply indifferent to you. You don't trust me the way you used to."

I retracted my hand to protect myself from the pain it would surely follow when Spencer acknowledged I wasn't the person he wanted anymore.

"I know I have been pushing you away, but it's not because I didn't trust you. It's just I have been putting so many of my problems over your shoulders that I didn't want to overwhelm you. I'm sorry for not being honest with you," Spencer said, maintaining eye contact as if he wanted to imprint his apology on me. My lips quivered, and I was doing everything to not cry.

"Spencer, I'm your wife. It is supposed we lean into each other!" I complained. How was it possible he still did not understand he is not a damaged good and deserves understanding and support.

"And you always have been there for me. But what has happened the times that you have needed me? I am away most of the time, which is unfair to you. I'm your husband, and I should have been here."

His voice broke at the end. And it hurt me because that has happened more than once, but I decided not to say anything before.

"Spencer, I knew your job when we married," I reminded him. It was the truth. I knew what I had signed for. Spencer shook his head nevertheless, blinking back tears.

"That doesn't mean I don't do anything about it. I just let it pass. And it was wrong. You were uncomfortable enough to tell me you were worried or disappointed because of my job."

I looked away as I listened to Spencer describe my behavior over the past few months. It was hard to admit that I feared what it would mean to us if we discussed it. It seemed childish, perhaps, but like a scared child, I didn't want to feel vulnerable, saying it affected me.

"But it's what you do. It's your life. You chose to be a profiler, and you save people every day."

That was far more important, wasn't it?

"But I chose you too. And you are part of my life too." Now he had hunched before me, gently placing his hands on my knees. "Do you remember what I told you when I proposed?" He asked, smiling fondly.

Of course I remembered. After living apart for three months because Spencer was in jail, the moment of our reunion was one of the most emotional things I have experienced.

"Besides telling me you loved and wanted to marry me?" I replied - a blush creeping my face at the memory.

"Yeah, that too. I told you I wanted everything with you. I told you I didn't want to spend another minute without you. You make me whole and feel alive (Y/N). That's far more important than catching monsters and consuming my life for them."

Grabbing one of my hands, he brought it to his lips, planting a loving kiss. His gaze never left mine, and I could feel like my heart skipped a bit.

"What do you mean?" I asked in a whisper. He returned a smile, tucking a hair strand behind my ear.

"That I'm done. Fifteen years is more than enough, and if this job continues cracking the good things in my life, I don't want it."

I wondered if I was listening wrong or if my mind was playing tricks on me. I needed clarification.

"What? Are you saying-" Spencer cut me off, nodding his head.

"There are so many things we dreamed of doing together. Do you recall our plan to stay a whole winter in a cabin in the woods? Or the trip to Greece? The idea of moving to the suburbs?"

"Do you still remember all that?" I asked in disbelief. That seemed a lifetime ago. We had so many plans and ideas, but I thought this would only form part of an unfulfilled desire, of our youthful and innocent desire to achieve something different from what we were used to. I often felt those plans were a way of escaping from our daily life full of pain, ghosts, and fears.

"Of course I do! And it's not because I have an eidetic memory. If I didn't, I would remember it anyway because I still want those things. With you."

Stroking my cheek with his palm, Spencer looked at me intensely as he didn't want to miss any of my microexpressions. I felt bare before him, but it didn't feel odd or wrong. If anything, it felt like he was seeing into my heart and soul. I have missed that.

"Spencer, you don't have to. You are a profiler, and you save lives. Your life has been the BAU," I reminded him. I didn't want him to be doing this just because we were in a rough patch and for it to be something he would regret for the rest of his life.

"It has been, but I don't want it to continue to be. It's a job (Y/N). One that has given me a lot of satisfaction but also a lot of pain and has consumed me. I want that to change. I want us to be able to make plans and stick to them. I want that family we talk about so much. Sure, if it's something you still want," he pointed out carefully. My eyes widened.

"You say, kids?" Spencer nodded eagerly.

"Yes. Kids. Little you's and me's running around in our new house. Whom I want to rock to make them sleep, who I want to teach them things, take them to the park, and play with them," Spencer enthusiastically described. It had been a long time since I had seen him that way. I couldn't stop my lips from forming a smile. "Do you still want that?" His excitement changed to the expectation to know my answer.

"Yes, I do," I acknowledged, my eyes filling with tears at the thought that this could be a reality one day. Spencer beamed.

"Then let's have the rest of our lives like we want them to be," he offered. It was like we were saying our vows, like the day we married.

"Are you sure? Spencer, I don't want you to feel like you have-" Before I could say anything else, Spencer gently placed a finger over my lips.

"Hey. It's been a long time since I was so sure about anything. Baby, I love you. I want us, always. Will you accept this fool man, who is madly in love with you, as your husband again?"

His eyes were full of hope, illuminated by the glow of the lighted lamp in the living room. The man hunched before me was the love of my life. The man I chose to spend the rest of my days with. I could feel the sincerity in his gaze, the transparency of the shared longing that made me fall for him years ago.

"I do," I whispered, leaning down and tenderly cupping his cheeks. "May I kiss the husband?" Spencer chuckled, nodding and leaning forward until our lips met in a passionate kiss. Spencer's hands moved up to hold the back of my head as my arms flew to the back of his neck - our lips molding like they were meant to be. The time stopped, and nothing else mattered. I was there with him, and he was there with me.

That kiss sealed our complicity and love's declaration. A kiss that Cat Adams would never have the privilege of experiencing despite the many Pandora's boxes she tried to open.

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Spencer Reid’s Taglist (some of them don't work): @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @thebloomingeagle @pauline5525mgg @maltamurdock @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @miaxx03 @leahblackk @missabsey

Pandora's Box Taglist (some of them don't work): @isisjen @marimorena06 @starlightskiss @wittlewowa @ladyofhellhounds @blogs-imagines-fanctionstories @logibearhockey1 @flowersownme @callsignwidow @regulus-black-223048 @l0v3e1i @lovejules888

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds #pandora's box #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid fanfictions

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abiiors · 6 months

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hot chocolate ☕ // matty healy x reader

promptober '23 - day 19

a/n: for all my girlies with the big sad, the cold months approach :/ cw: discussions of mental health, mentions of depression wc: 1.1k

matty has a pit of worry in his stomach. he’s had it for about two days now, for as long as the house has been unusually quiet. he’s alone in their dimly lit kitchen, barely any sunlight streaming in. whatever manages to sneak in through the parting of the clouds, gets diluted by the sheets of rain falling from the sky.

it’s dull and grey. exactly the kind of weather she hates.

matty gives the brewing pot of coffee another look and decides on abandoning it.

he knows what he will see when he walks into the bedroom—she will be in bed, in the same three day old pyjamas, messy and unbrushed hair, “taking a nap”. not that he cares about how she looks. it’s just the niggling pit that doesn’t let him sit still.

“darling?” he calls from the door, watching for any signs of movement under the duvet. “you awake yet?”

she should be, he thinks to himself. it’s nearly noon. he wants to make them some lunch but she doesn’t move, doesn’t reply to his question. matty gnaws on his bottom lip and walks in.

“i’m making something for lunch…” he says again, sitting by her side of the bed and resting a hand on her back. matty knows she’s not asleep. her breaths are nowhere near deep and even.

“i know you’re awake,” he says softly, moving his hand to her forehead, checking for any signs of an illness just in case. but deep down he knows the illness is not physical.

when matty threads his fingers through her hair, it’s not the usual soft and smooth strands he’s met with. his fingers get caught up in the greasy knots, accidently pulling on some hair. she winces.

“go away, matty, ‘m not hungry,” she mumbles into the pillow, voice feeble and barely audible. “‘m sleepy.”

he tuts. it’s a lie—if he’s right, and he suspects he is, she hasn’t properly slept in days, tossing and turning at night. and yet she has left the bed only a handful of times in the last few days.

he’s tried giving her space, to let her sort things out on her own because that’s usually what she prefers. but he draws the line at skipping meals.

“sleep after lunch,” he counters, and goes to draw the duvet off her.

it’s not even a moment later that matty fliches, appalled when she slaps away his hand.

“i said i’m not hungry!” she snaps, turning away from him, cocooning herself further, shut off from him, from the world.

he stills and for a moment the only sound in the room is that of the rain hammering against the window. it’s haphazard, nowhere near a soothing beat. this rain sounds more like an anxious heartbeat—loud, odd and out of sync.

then he hears the sniffle and his heart breaks.

“baby…” he approaches again, trying to at least slide the duvet off her face. “hey, look at me please.”

he doesn’t care that she snapped at him or slapped his hand away. right now, he cares that something is deeply wrong, and he’s ready to beg if that means she’d tell him.

“g-go away, matty,” she tries again, tries so hard not to let her voice waver or crack and yet he hears it.

matty decides enough is enough, and pulls the duvet off her entirely.

her pyjama top is wrinkled and bunched up around her waist, and if he’s being honest, she smells a little bit but he can take care of that later. showers and perfumes and oils can wait. everything else in the world can wait.

“i won't,” he declares firmly. “now you can either keep fighting me or you can tell me what’s wrong. either way, i’m staying right here.”

she looks at him through dull eyes that widen slightly with every word, jaw clenched to keep her chin from wobbling even as her eyes turn pink first, then watery until the tears fall one by one. matty doesn’t shush her, he just quietly pulls her into his chest, letting her cry it out.

“i’m so cold…” she says after a few minutes. her voice is already hoarse, a whispery shadow of what it’s like on the good days. today it’s barely more than a squeak. “so cold. all the time. i just…i’m just so tired, i can’t. i don’t know what to do. and whatever i do, i can’t g-get, can’t get warm.”

she breaks into another round of tears by the time she’s done—loud, gut-wrenching sobs that break his heart but he lets her be. his only job is to be there and hold her. he just needs to be the sun.

“i know what will help,” matty mumbles into her hair, pressing a small kiss to her head. “give me two minutes?”

and he does return two minutes later as promised. matty practically makes a mad dash to and from the kitchen, balancing the mugs in his hands and his socks sliding on the wooden floors around the corner. but the liquid in them stays unscathed.

“there we go,” he announces as soon as he’s back in the bedroom. a tiny pang goes through his chest when he sees her sitting up in bed, arms hugging her middle. she looks small, smaller than he’s ever seen her. but there’s a miniscule spark of curiosity in her eyes.

he’ll take that spark. he’ll nurture and rekindle it.

“chef matty’s hot chocolate,” he presents it with a flourish smiling at her raised eyebrow.

“i know you said you weren’t hungry and you were cold. so i thought this would be a good compromise?”

for a moment she doesn’t say anything, only takes the mug from him and cradles it close, lets the steam waft over her face. hot chocolate won’t do anything for a cold that goes bone-deep. but it’s a start. he can do the rest of the work.

“take a sip?” he nudges, sitting back in the same spot as before. he brings his own mug up to his mouth, nudging her to mimic him. together they drink their first sip.

instant sweetness floods his mouth, comforting warmth creeping down his throat and settling into his stomach. he can only hope it does the same for her.

and he will be there for the rest of it. for all the cold days that come after this.

lemme know what you think <33

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#tw: mental health #promptober75 #the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty x you #matty x reader #matty healy hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #tw: depression #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 hurt/comfort #the 1975 fic

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asongofstarkandtargaryen · 20 days

Text

SOME THOUGHTS ON JON IX, ASOS

I've read the battle at the Wall a couple of times but this is the first time it hit me how much tiresome was for all the black brothers who participated in it.

Jon's point of view gives us a realistic perspective inside the mind of a soldier. He barely even has time to sleep and even when he does, the fighting haunts his dreams. And how could it not? When the fighting is so loud that even the rare moments a soldier has to relax, they can still hear it:

Day and night the axes rang.

Jon could not remember the last time he had slept. When he closed his eyes he dreamt of fighting; when he woke he fought. Even in the King's Tower he could hear the ceaseless thunk of bronze and flint and stolen steel biting into wood, at it was louder when he tried to rest in the warming shed at top of the Wall. Mance had sledgehammers at work as well, and long saws with teeth of bone and flint. Once, as he was drifting off into an exhausted sleep, there came a great cracking from the haunted forest, and a sentinel tree came crashing down in a cloud of dirt and needles.

Most of them are simply sleeping on the Wall as it would take them too much time to travel from Castle Black to the top of the Wall everytime they desperately need to relax. Of course, this fact makes their sleeping breaks less relaxing as they take place in the middle of the potential battlefield.

Few of them ever left the Wall these days. It took too long to ride up and down in the cage. Castle Black had been abandoned to Maester Aemon, Ser Wynton Stout, and a few others too old or ill to fight.

Taking into consideration what I've discussed so far it makes sense for Jon to mention that all these black brothers are too exhausted to even have conversations between them:

No one spoke. They were all too tired to talk.

I feel the need mention here and during these agonizing moments for all Black Brothers, Jon is still injured and using a crutch to walk around. What is more, he's their de facto leader so he has to put a brave face and be someone who can inspire and reassure the rest of his brothers.

He's insightful enough to realise that some unorthodox jokes of some of the brothers make ( mostly Pyp) let the rest of them feel better. While such japes would be considered unacceptable and offensive by other previous leaders ; Jon's allows them. Because what matters the most is to elevate the spirit of his soldiers, even if that means using unusual methods.

To give you the context here these japes and how they affect the soldiers:

"Here come our breakfast arrows" Pyp announced cheerfully, as he did every morning. It's good that he can make a jape of it, Jon thought. Someone has to. [...] Jon had to think that it was better for them to smile at Pyp's jest than brood over Alyn's corpse.

The brothers had even started wagering as to which of the straw sentinels would collect more arrows before they were done.[...] It was Pyp who'd started naming the scarecrows after their missing brothers, too. "It makes us it seem as if there's more of us," he said.

" More of us with arrows in our bellies," Grenn complained, but the custom did seem to give his brothers heart, so Jon let the names stand and the wagering continue".

Jon also makes sure that his men are all well rest ( or at least as well rest as they can be under these conditions). That's why he urges Grenn to go to sleep when the latter admit that he hasn't rested. And how the tables have turned! Because in the past it was Jon's superiors who had to force him to take care of himself. And now he's doing the same thing for someone else. ( it's small bits like this ones that show the growth of a character).

Speaking of a character's growth, Jon on this chapter also tries to take care of himself too. He forces himself to eat his meals because he knows that he needs his strength in order to be able to lead the men he's responsible for. His survival is no longer sorely personal matter, his survival also guarantees a better chance of survival for the men who follow his orders.

As himself notes the other brothers are waiting for him to give them orders:

Satin, Horse and the others were looking for him, Jon knew, waiting for his orders. He was too tired, he hardly knew anymore. The Wall is mine, he reminded himself.

And so, the teenage injured boy who still walks with a crutch and hasn't participated in previous battles continues to lead his black brothers.

If we take into consideration his lack of experiences and the fact that they were outnumbered by far then the resistance black brothers showed under his command was impressive. Jon Snow was born to lead men as this chapter ( among a couple of others) proves!

#Jon Snow #the Night's Watch #asoiaf meta #valyrianscrolls

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rainsoughtflowers · 1 year

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*evil laughter in the distance* so you want requests, huh? I got you one.

part two of wavering hatred, short story and I don't remember if reader is fem or gn but I don't mind lol. karma and y/n resume their talk in the cave korosensei pushed his fave couples into. and what yn does is half of a confession, basically just asking him desperately as to why he makes them feel like that. karma is taken aback, doesn't even answer the fucker. so the episode keeps going normally as much as tension can be considered normal and the helping Irina-sensei happens blah blah blah. night falls on the island and yn is very much restless. not able to sleep they go on a walk and as they are walking in the dark hallway they pick up their eyes only to meet karma's surprised ones how romantic. they end up at the beach side by side resolving the tension sweetly with karma not being a teasing asshole for once, or so you'd bc he ends up trying to make up the lost time with a sweet long kiss make out sesh time

don't know if the last one counts as NSFW for you so if it does feel free to skip it obviously. this is the vague image of what I'd like to see but if you deem any changes necessary to suit your style then so be it, you are the writer after all. take your time and if you don't like it I have many more scenarios in store so dw :)

have fun writing!!

baited breaths

tw/cw - kissing lmao, a little bit of cursing.

a/n - hihihihi REALLY sorry this took forever but i was suddenly in a karma akabane mood :D

this work is multiple parts. part one.

it didn’t take long for you to recover from whatever sickness was forced upon you. your slumber had been interrupted by the loud sounds of blades slicing the air, and after groggily opening your eyes and sitting upright you recognized it to belong to a helicopter. your head throbbed due to the sounds and motions, and yet you still found yourself searching among the crowd. scanning for a shade of red still bright inside your mind.

you felt an emotion close to relief when karma akabane emerged, appearing unscathed and wearing his infamous smirk. gold scanned the crowd, and you mentally cursed the skipping of your heart when they rested on you. you pulled at the sheets covering the lower portion of your body, wringing your hands through the fabric to busy yourself as the contact never broke. something unexplainable passed over his features, your mind still foggy with sleep and the fever still burning your skin. but just as quick as the male was there he was disappearing, and your own thoughts drifted when you were handed a supplement supposed to cure you of your illness. you laid down, forced to close your eyes for more hours of slumber.

the next time you saw karma was early afternoon the following day, when you finally awoke feeling much better than before. it appeared most of the students slept past the early hours of the morning, though it was definitely much needed after the event filled night previously experienced.

you found karma on the floor, body leaned back and his arms supporting his weight. his head was lifted towards the sky, eyes closed as his red strands of hair billowed in the wind. he looked so…peaceful. not a trace of mockery or amusement on his features. one would barely be able to tell that the boy was actually the epitome of trickery.

it was almost like he knew you had arrived, eyes fluttering open to rest on your face. a smile curled his lips, and all peace was gone from his expression the moment he tilted his head and spoke.

“were you staring at me?” he teased, your cheeks flaring red in response to his question. because you were, but you'd never admit to such a thing in front of him, especially after the events from the night before. your mind still refused to recall the warmth that lingered on your fingertips and the embarrassing revelation you'd made about your feelings towards your classmate. unfortunately, it hadn't been the poison. you did find yourself attracted to him, as infuriating as his personality was.

you released a huff, sitting down beside him while folding your arms across your chest, “as if! i was just surprised.”

“by how attractive i am?” karma's smile was devilish, and you refused to meet the gold in his eyes as you released another frustrated breath.

“about how deceiving you are. if only all the girls swooning for you knew how horrible your personality actually is.”

everything about karma's hurt expression was fake, “such harsh words coming from someone who is only alive because i saved them.”

“that was a group effort. don’t go taking all the credit.”

“sorry, what was that?" karma cupped a hand over his ear, leaning in closer, "i was recalling how you called me smart and cool while on your deathbed.”

embarrassment flooded its way through your body, “that’s not-!”

your next words were interrupted by koro sensei’s entrance, and you’re forced to simply glare at the teen before giving your attention to your teacher. he was no longer trapped in the little small ball he had secured himself within during your last assassination attempt, back to wearing his tacky floral patterned shirt. the yellow octopus grinned, nerves stirring in your stomach when he spread his tentacles and proudly announced your next class activity.

a test of courage.

nagisa repeated the creature's words, confusion laced within his tone. if even possible, koro sensei’s smile widened, his tentacles reaching up to stretch the limbs, “yes! what better activity for a midsummer night?”

“you just want to have fun.” karma sang, his own smirk widening.

the red head’s accusation resulted in a lecture by your teacher, his voice dripping with irritation as he spoke about the loss of his vacation after being stuck in a ball. you couldn’t help but giggle at the reminder, hiding your laugh behind your hand.

still, his rant seemed to lift the spirits of your peers, talking excitedly among themselves about the upcoming activity and what might occur during it. you weren't sure what to think, hesitant about the idea of possibly encountering ghosts or something so frightening you'd embarrass yourself in front of your classmates. well, embarrass yourself in front of karma. you'd never hear the end of it.

speaking of the male, you found your eyes drifting to his face, trying to gauge his reaction to the proposed activity. of course, just as you expected, karma's eyes were bright with delight, perhaps amused by the prospect of getting to see whatever tricks your teacher decided to pull during the so called test. he was probably also excited to hear the screams that would eventually erupt from everyone's throats.

you glanced away, praying that this test of courage wouldn’t take place where karma would be able to make fun of you.

your stomach twisted itself into knots, and you couldn't differentiate between the nerves you felt entering the dark cave or the butterflies that arrived the moment karma began walking by your side.

of course. you should've known that the moment koro sensei proposed the test of courage, he hadn't intended to see which students were the bravest in the class. he was playing cupid. and for some stupid, horrible, confusing reason, he thought you and karma were a match.

the air in the cave was humid, making your skin feel sticky with sweat the deeper you went. it was also dark, and it didn't help that karma was the only one with a flashlight, forcing you to stick closely by his side. his skin was warm each time it brushed against your own, and you forced yourself to keep your eyes straight ahead to hide the red steadily scorching your cheeks.

it was quiet for the first couple of minutes, the only sounds being the water dripping from spikes in the ceiling and your own steady footsteps. you're surprised, since you had been anticipating karma's teasing remarks about how scared you looked. your eyes kept darting nervously around the enclosed area and your fingers never seemed to stop shaking. but he remained quiet, and one look at his expression showed...nothing. karma akabane appeared impassive.

"you look like you're having fun." you joked, trying to lighten the mood. even if karma was not reminding you of your current state, that was more scary than your endless bickering. you were relieved when karma glanced at you and twitched the corner of his mouth up into a smile.

he shrugged, facing forward once more, "it’s actually boring in here."

"why?"

"no one to watch scream."

you rolled your eyes at his response, "of course you'd say that."

karma glanced at you once more, opening his mouth to say something, but he's interrupted by the flicker of blue fire and the sound of an Okinawa shamisen.

you both turned at the sound, karma passing the flashlight over the walls until finding the source. you jumped, scooting yourself closer to the boy beside you when koro sensei appeared like a ghost from the shadows.

"this is a blood-drenched cave of tragedy...where Ryukyu royalty, defeated in battle, met a violent end." his voice echoed in the cave, his words ringing in your ears even after the light went out and he disappeared.

your fingers curled themselves in the fabric of karma's shirt, nervously glancing around the cave. you knew something scary was supposed to pop up sometime during the ‘test’, but you hadn’t anticipated it being your teacher. and what was with the creepy music and costume? chills traveled down your spine, but you could find no further sign of the yellow octopus. you released a breath, glancing up to meet unsuspecting eyes.

there were no words in the dictionary you could use to describe what you felt in that moment. karma's eyes were clear, almost like water, and they tipped over and spilled gold down your form with each second that passed. as you stared, bathing yourself within the pools, your heartbeat quickened within your chest, the sound so loud within your ears you feared he could hear it. his own expression was hard to place, but you caught the surprise that flickered across it when your noses found themselves only mere inches apart. the butterflies returned, fluttering in your stomach and you swallowed thickly to compose yourself.

"kar-"

"you must stay together."

a scream is released from your throat, your body clinging onto karma's when koro sensei appeared right behind you. but just as quick as your teacher was there he was gone, leaving only the echoes of his voice bouncing off of the walls.

leave it to koro sensei to ruin a perfectly good moment.

you released the breath you’d been holding, registering your current position when you felt karma's muscles tense beneath your hands. hastily you pulled yourself away, refusing to meet his eyes as you grabbed the flashlight he had dropped and began to walk further into the cave.

"we should get out of here." you mumbled quickly, not daring to look back to check if he was following after you. your cheeks burned along with your shame, hating how foolishly you'd clung to his form. how pathetic was that? if karma didn't have an excuse to make fun of you before, he definitely did now. you could already picture the horrible smile on his face and the teasing tone of his voice.

"back then, what were you trying to say?"

your steps faltered, and you quickly turned around in confusion, "what?"

"when you were sick,” karma began, taking one step closer. your eyes followed the movement, before taking in the serious expression on his face, “you said you had something important to tell me."

you recalled the delirious words uttered the previous night, feeling your cheeks warm at the thought. you had been so close to confessing to him. confessing. in all honesty, you had hoped karma would forget about it, but perhaps his thoughtful expressions rooted from that unfinished conversation, "ah, that,” you shook your head, waving off his curiosity, "forget it. it was nothing."

"so you're a coward." karma declared.

you glared at him, hating how you knew he was provoking you for a reaction, and you still fell into his trap, "i'm not a coward."

"really?” the male stepped closer, and his eyes were the definition of mockery when they met your own, “your actions say otherwise."

"god, you are really infuriating,” you laughed, muttering bitterly beneath your breath, “i must be stupid to fall in love with you."

karma suddenly grows quiet, and when the irritation disappeared you finally registered what had been said. your eyes widened, expression mirroring the boy before you.

“oh my god.” you mumbled, putting your hands over your lips, “oh my god. i can’t believe i just said that.” how could you be so stupid? confessing your feelings? and on accident, too? you began pacing, your heart racing within your chest as you tried to think of what to do to salvage the situation. but there was no fixing it. karma knew, and the sight of his frozen state made you even more anxious, “well don’t just stand there, say something!”

but he doesn’t. the red head stays rooted to his spot, the only indication of emotion being his widened eyes and parted lips. you feel the dread stir in your stomach the longer you are forced to listen to the echoes of falling water and koro sensei’s words further down the cave. after several moments of karma’s continued silence you let out a frustrated breath. well, you got your answer then.

this time you really do turn around and walk off, refusing to look back. you would not cry. you would not. and you would not care about the fact that his footsteps never quite reached your ears.

karma probably thought of your infatuation as a joke.

that could be the only explanation for his current actions. as soon as you both emerged from the dark cave and met the eyes of all your classmates he began the teasing, talking about how carelessly you had thrown yourself upon him and the shrill scream you had let out. his words made you fume with anger, glaring at the redhead as he continued without an ounce of shame. why did he have to be such an asshole? where was the boy that was worried about you the night before? you began to laugh at yourself. you really were a fool for liking him.

everyone's attention is quickly diverted, however, when miss irina emerged from the cave with her hands tightened around karasuma's arm. sly, mischievious smiles formed on your classmates faces, and it's almost laughable how quickly they scrambled together to form a plan. you had no choice but to forget about your previous anger and join the scheming when rio pulled you into the small circle formed.

they began by provoking the poor woman into giving them answers, poking fun at her lack of experience and the obvious crush she had on the man. although she denied it at first, she eventually gave in, and you found the averted eyes and dusted cheeks to be cute on her usually pissed off expression. the other students seemed to think so, too, and they eagerly assured the blonde woman that the perfect love stage would be set for the two of them.

koro sensei led the quick debrief of what the plan would be, holding up a small whiteboard and wearing square rimmed glasses. the first part of the plan was to change her outfit, their reasoning being that karasuma wasn't into the revealing clothing she normally wore. yet, even after switching out her clothes for a white frilly dress, somehow she made it appear far more provocative than it actually was.

they tried coming up with the man's ideal type, only to realize that the 'woman' he was interested in was actually a military potential. okuda suggested cooking for him, but it was quickly scratched when karasuma only seemed to eat fast food. dejection quickly crossed over everyone's faces when they realized their stoic teacher was probably the problem and not miss irina’s attitude.

koro sensei was quick to lighten the mood, however, instructing the girls to help miss irina with her appearance and the boys with setting up a romantic dinner. you almost scoffed at the thought, for you couldn't imagine karma being romantic, let alone creating the atmosphere for your dear plan. you quickly turned away and joined the rest of the group when you felt his eyes lingering on your form.

the plan was simple. take up nearly every seat inside the building to force the two teachers outside for dinner. the rest was up to them.

rio and yada do an amazing job forcing karasuma outside when the time came around, bodies splayed across the seats as mischief gleamed in their eyes. they teased the older man, suggesting that he find a place to sit elsewhere despite there being none. when karasuma looked around and spotted every table occupied he sighed, heading towards the door without another word. the moment he left the building you all scrambled up from your seats, finding several hiding spots outside to eavesdrop.

you found yourself behind a bush, staring intently at the scene before you. it really was romantic. the sky was a beautiful painting of purples, reds, oranges and yellows, the waves crashing against the shore creating a beautiful sound. miss irina looked lovely in her new outfit, her face glowing with the golden shades of the sun cast across her skin, and her blue eyes sparkled when karasuma sat down beside her.

for a majority of the dinner it was quiet, the two adults eating at their own respective paces. you began to worry that your plan was a fail, and that your oblivious teacher would fail to realize he had been set up for a date. but just as the setting sun was getting ready to disappear beneath the horizon he spoke, and you all leaned in closer in hopes to hear what was being said.

your ears couldn’t pick up on anything, but you saw miss irina frown, karasuma looking at her with a confused glance. she remained silent for a moment, before she reached up, cut the tie holding her hair together and asked him a question. she received no response, a small smile turning her lips as she got up from her seat and walked over to his own. you released a soft gasp when she picked up the napkin, kissed it, and then pressed it to his lips.

she walked away, glancing back briefly to utter the words in her heart. and then she turned around, and you stared dejectedly at her form getting closer and closer to your hiding spots. that was the end.

you lowered your gaze, tightening your fingers around the fabric of your pants. despite the woman’s bitchy attitude, you admired miss irina. she had been brave, despite her date going no where. you knew what it was like to like someone who would never see you the same way.

you don't join the other students who get up and scold the woman, silently listening from afar to their raised voices and teasing remarks. instead your eyes drifted towards the piercing gold behind a palm tree, catching karma akabane's intense stare. well, at least he had the decency to cease his own teasing. he didn't smile at you, nor could you find a trace of mischief or amusement hidden in the pools of gold. instead the boy appeared to be thinking. over what? how rude his actions had been? the confession you had carelessly uttered?

you got up and walked away. you found that you didn't want to find out.

you couldn't sleep.

no matter how much you tossed and turned to change into a more comfortable position your mind refused to quiet down, annoying you greatly. it had been hours since you and the rest of the students turned in for the night, and hours since you struggled to slip into a dream. you didn’t know what was wrong. maybe it was the nerves prickling your skin, itching and clawing with great intensity. or maybe it was the reoccurring thoughts spinning endlessly in your mind, remaining even after you put on music to drown it out.

when your body refused to sleep yet again you groaned, tearing the blanket away from your body and slipping on your shoes. if you couldn't sleep, then you'd walk. maybe the exhaustion would finally let you rest.

you wandered quietly through the dark hallways, watching the shadows dance across the walls and the pale moonlight slipping through the windowpanes. it remained utterly quiet during the time of night, though you could hear the faint sound of crashing waves and billowing trees. it was calming, and you found yourself turning a corner to slip outside to the beach.

your movements faltered when you almost ran into another body, stepping back with surprise. who was also awake during the middle of the night? you squinted through the dark, trying to decipher the facial features and the frame of their body. your heart dropped to your stomach when you recognized the apple red hair and intense golden eyes.

you avoided the boy’s gaze, brushing past him without another word. you weren’t in the mood to talk, especially to him. you just wanted peace and quiet. a moment to think. you were so adamant about your decision that the only reason you paused was when he spoke up, voice carrying quietly through the night.

"gonna ignore me? i thought you were in love with me or something."

karma’s words strike an anger in your body so intense you couldn’t help but turn around and yell at him, not caring that frustrated tears gathered in the corner’s of your eyes, "you're a jerk, you know that?”

you released an aggravated breath, quickly turning back around to rush outside. why did he have to be so confusing? one moment he’s kind, taking care of you while on the brink of death. and then the next? it’s like karma completely disregarded his previous actions, returning to his annoying, old self. had you imagined that night? the careful way he had led you to your bed and the ghost of his fingers holding onto your own? and you, why did you still like him, teasing and all?

you plopped down onto the sand, bringing your knees to your chest as you set your gaze onto the waves pushing and pulling against the shore. you ignored the footsteps that trickled behind you, pausing just behind your figure. you refused to look. you refused to play his game. you thought you were making that clear, but karma just can’t seem to leave you alone, huh?

“why did you follow me?” you muttered. why do any of this?

“what you said in the cave, it must be true then?” karma asked from behind you. you couldn’t see his face, but you thought you heard the slightest hint of genuinity laced in his tone.

you looked back, annoyed, “of course it’s true! you think i would lie about that?”

“i know it’s hard to resist me,” karma smirked, head tilted. you hated how cute he looked by the catlike actions, and how the faltering of his smile and furrowed brows made your breath catch in your throat, “but why?”

why did you like karma? he was arrogant, annoying, and most of all horrible. he may be attractive, but that didn’t make up for the hundreds of times he aggravated you beyond belief. in reality, you shouldn’t.

and yet, there was that other part of him, the one that he rarely ever showed. the vulnerable side of karma akabane that he only seemed to reveal with you.

you glanced down, threading your fingers through the sand and watching the grains slip through your fingers. you took a moment to breathe deeply and formulate the correct words, “you…you’re kind, even if you don’t want to admit to it. you helped me when i was sick and you let me stick close to you in the test of courage. and yeah you’re also a jackass but…i guess i like that, too.”

karma doesn’t speak behind you, and something prompts you to turn around and look at him. the sight surprised you, for karma’s ears are red. really red.

“are you blushing?” you asked, a hint of a smile tracing your lips. it widened when karma’s face grows the same color as the tip of his ears.

“i’m not!” he defended, glaring at you. the sight made you laugh. you never knew karma could get so embarrassed.

“yes you are!” you insisted, unable to help yourself with the thought that ghosted near the surface of your mind, “oh my god. don’t tell me you have a crush on me, too.”

“and if i did?”

karma refused to look at you, gold pinned to the ground as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. he was fidgeting, face growing redder by the minute, and suddenly it began to make sense.

“oh.” you mumbled quietly, heart racing within your chest at the realization.

he took a seat beside you, continuing to glare at the sand by his feet. you waited, patiently, for the male to form whatever words he needed onto the tip of his tongue, “i tease you because i like you.”

you blinked, letting the words sink in. it made sense in a way. karma was definitely the type to torment the person he had feelings for. you found yourself scooting closer to his body, “why didn’t you just say so in the beginning?”

he released a huff, “it’s embarrassing.”

“embarrassing to like me?”

“to admit to it,” you saw his fingers dig into the sand, his glare growing more intense, “i’m not good at feelings.”

you continued to stare at him, fondness flickering like a flame within your chest. karma liked you. he liked you. and even though he was embarrassed beyond belief, he was telling you anyways.

you grinned, getting up and throwing your arms around the male. he released a grunt at the sudden weight of your body on his own, his face turning red once more as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his shoulder, “who knew you could be so cute, karma!”

“shut up.” he mumbled quietly, averting his gaze. but you felt a hand come up and return your embrace, light and hesitant resting on your back.

you squeezed tighter, taking in the warmth of his body and the sweet scent of strawberries lingering on his skin. the whole moment felt surreal, and you weren’t sure what to do with yourself now that you knew the red head’s true feelings.

you pulled away slowly, drinking in the rich gold of his eyes and the pale moonlight glowing upon his face. he was beautiful. and karma, he stared at you with such raw emotion you felt your breath get taken away with the breeze that passed through the night. his eyes flickered down, resting on your lips, and you smiled when his embarrassment told you everything he had thought upon making contact.

well, if karma was too shy to kiss you, you supposed you’d have to do it yourself.

the boy didn’t have time to react when your fingers rested on his cheek and you leaned forward, pressing your lips gently against his own. you felt the way karma’s whole body tensed, surprised, before he eased into the motion of your mouth on his. a small laugh broke through at his initial shock, pulling back slightly to let the sound break through. only, it was your turn to be surprised when he leaned forward and returned the affection with newfound eagerness.

you found that you could’ve kissed karma all night, relishing in the way his fingers wove themselves through your hair and the clumsy motion of his lips as they searched for your own. you weren’t surprised by his inexperience, it was your first kiss as well, but despite the uncertainty it was easy to find a steady rhythm you both liked. your own hands rested on the back of his neck, soothing the skin there and teasing the ends of his hair. karma seemed to like the ministrations when he released a pleased hum, the sound tickling your skin. yes, you could’ve kissed him forever under the delicate light of the moon and the dance of waves across the shore. you could’ve stayed in that moment for eternity, holding your breath for just one more second of his touch.

menu. strawberry rhubarb meringue tartlets..

#gender neutral reader #gn!reader #fluff #assassination classroom #karma akabane #karma akabane fluff #karma akabane assassination classroom #assassination classroom karma akabane #karma x reader #karma x you #karma x y/n #karma/reader #karma/you #karma akabane x you #karma akabane x reader #karma akabane x y/n #karma akabane/reader #karma akabane/you

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mishydraws · 3 months

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Very... very unfortunate life update

Hi, everyone.

Ok, I don’t want to waste your time but I wanted to be upfront about what’s going on in my life just so you all know.

Last night I got what is probably one of the worst emails that could have ever appeared in my inbox? Our landlord has given us a 60-day notice to get out. For context, my mom and I have been living here since the year 2000. We have never been late on rent or missed a payment despite every difficulty life has thrown at us in that time and this has completely blindsided us.

We haven’t spoken to any of the neighbors yet but some of the wording on the notice makes me think that they may be kicking out the entire building. Or maybe they’re just targeting those of us in the non-renovated units because we’ve been here so long and they could charge a new tenant much more with a quick kitchen and bathroom upgrade. Renoviction is a new word I just learned. I don’t know. That’s what happened to my brother at his last apartment. They kicked out everyone in his building, renovated, raised the rent, then let new people move in.

They suddenly started increasing our rent every year like clockwork a few years ago so I’ve had a feeling they’ve been trying to price us out for a while but I didn’t know they could just… tell us to leave just because they can. Rent consistently paid up and everything for 24 years.

The notice we received really doesn’t say much so it’s all speculation I guess. It doesn’t state a reason why it just says we need to be gone by March 31st.

But basically, I’m really not doing well right now in all honesty. I slept for maybe an hour last night and it’s like a switch flipped in me as soon as I read the email. My stomach has had this weird knotted feeling ever since and I can’t stand up for more than a few minutes before needing to lie down again in case I either faint or vomit… I’m not sure which but it’s been this way since last night. I had to stand up at the sink to wash one singular dish from dinner and I could barely do it. At least I didn’t see the email until after I ate last night because I still have no appetite now.

However bad I’m feeling I know my mom is probably feeling worse. She has been for a while. She’s getting older and my dad is no longer alive. Aside from my brother and one irl friend I still see in person regularly, we have no family or other support system in this country and are well and truly on our own, staring down the barrel of homelessness if we can’t quickly secure a place and move decades worth of our life there before the end of March.

All of this to say, I don’t know what our usual art shenanigans here are going to look like during this time. I am incredibly stressed to the point where I am physically ill but I also can’t pause and step away because I do need the income that I receive from your support of me/my art here. It’s just the reality. I’ve never been particularly Big And Successful with what I do so your support means all the much more and makes a real impact on my life.

I am so sorry if this dampens your mood at all today or if you notice a decrease in the quality of art I’m able to deliver over the next few months but I will try my best to keep things rolling and let you know if there’s any particular delays to expect.

To top it off, I requested a tour of a nearby apartment last night (more expensive than our current) and the name of the person who just texted me back has the same name as our current landlord. Who wants to start taking bets? I know for a fact they own a lot of property in the area so this isn’t looking promising.

Anyways. Sorry for this downer of a post. If we’re not homeless in 2 months then… I dunno. I’ll have somewhere indoors to do art? Yay? You can imagine the housing market we’re dealing with being in California. The prospect of moving at this point has always been one of my biggest fears but we’ll see if we get lucky real fast 😢

If you've ever thought about supporting my Patreon or anything else, now and over the next few months might be a good time if you can swing it. Maybe it'll help us secure a place to move if I can point to it and be like 'Look! A whole income!' 🥲 Idk man.

There's an art update in the (public) post I made if you want to see what we're at least trying to work on for sticker club through all of this.

Mishy

#mishy talks

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bultaoreunheyyy · 3 months

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two. exhaustion

"Hey, hyung?" (or 5 times Jungkook wants tummy rubs + 1 times he doesn't)

two. exhaustion

word count: 909

sickie: jungkook

caretaker: yoongi

“Hey, hyung?”

Jungkook’s question comes out quieter than he intended– his tongue feels too big in his mouth, and his lips just don’t want to open all the way, the same as his eyes– but Yoongi still hears him and looks up from his laptop.

“Jungkook?” Yoongi frowns as he takes in his appearance. “What do you need?”

“Can’t sleep,” Jungkook murmurs.

Yoongi tilts his head to one side. He looks down at his phone to check the time and frowns. “You haven’t slept yet tonight?” He asks incredulously. “After not sleeping last night?”

Anxiety swirls in Jungkook’s gut at his worried tone and it makes him feel almost nauseous, a weird achy feeling that hovers halfway between his stomach and his throat.

He shakes his head. “Can’t sleep,” he repeats. “Can I…can I sit in here with you?”

Yoongi’s expression softens. “Of course,” he replies. “You can rest in my bed, if you don’t mind me keeping the light on while I finish up a few things.”

He gestures toward the lamp on his desk that’s casting a warm, dim glow across the room.

Jungkook nods eagerly. Yoongi’s room is perfect, always clean and always smelling of citrus and always the perfect temperature. He climbs into the bed and settles under the covers, startling a little when Yoongi suddenly appears above him, hands fluffing the pillow and tucking the blanket around Jungkook with a look of concentration on his face. He’s fussing, smoothing out the blanket twice before reaching down to tuck Jungkook’s hair behind his ears, pushing it off his face first, and oh how it makes Jungkook feel warm all over.

Yoongi puts a palm on his forehead. Jungkook knows he won’t find a fever there, though, because even though there’s a tiny chance he is getting sick with how miserable he’s starting to feel, he’s pretty sure it’s just due to exhaustion and not illness. He doesn’t feel warm. He just feels…tired. So, so tired.

He quickly closes his eyes when Yoongi catches him staring, his face flushing, but Yoongi just pats him lightly on the chest and goes back to his desk without a word. Jungkook feels so comfortable now, feels like maybe he can actually fall asleep in here, with Yoongi close by, the sound of his keyboard clicking a nice sort of background noise.

But he still can’t sleep. Not with the way his head is pounding and his limbs feel too heavy yet too restless, and he tosses and turns for what feels like an hour– but is actually only twenty minutes, according to the little clock on Yoongi’s nightstand– before Yoongi is closing his laptop and climbing into the bed next to him.

“Tell me what’s bothering you,” Yoongi says, voice a light whisper against Jungkook’s ear. “Are you warm enough? Are you getting sick, do you think? Do you need something to eat or drink?” He pauses for a moment, then fixes the covers over both of them. “Have you been having nightmares again–”

“Hyung,” Jungkook interrupts. “Thank you. I’m fine. I’m comfortable enough. It’s just my brain. It won’t shut up.”

Yoongi regards him with a look he can’t quite decipher.

“Hm,” he finally says, reaching up to run his fingers gently through Jungkook’s long hair. The touch feels nice, and as he repeats the motion Jungkook finds himself closing his eyes and trying to focus on how good it feels, willing it to outweigh all of the other discomfort. He so, so tired, it should be easy to fall asleep.

Then, without warning, Yoongi stops and pulls his hand away. Jungkook is about to protest, but then he feels the blanket lifted off of him and he opens his eyes just enough to see Yoongi peek under the covers and then reach down.

“I’m gonna rub your tummy,” he explains when he feels Jungkook tense next to him. “Keep your eyes closed and keep breathing just like you were just doing. Nice and slow.”

“Oh.” Jungkook hadn’t realized his breathing had been changing.

Yoongi’s hand on his bare stomach feels even better than on his hair and he has no trouble closing his eyes and focusing on the touch and on keeping his breathing slow and even. Yoongi rubs back and forth, back and forth, his touch seeming to calm whatever uneasy feeling had settled in his belly almost immediately, and Jungkook feels himself relax, muscles he hadn’t even realized had been tense loosening.

Jungkook can’t really explain why he particularly likes his stomach being rubbed, only that it feels good and it feels calming, and soon a familiar warmth is washing over him, pulling him towards sweet sweet slumber. He feels so close to the edge of sleep when Yoongi’s hand stops, and then a soft snore erupts from next to him. Jungkook glances over in disbelief and sees that Yoongi is asleep, lips parted slightly, hair fanned out over the pillow.

A giggle bursts out of him before he can stop it and Yoongi stirs but doesn’t fully wake. Jungkook had been so close to falling asleep, but instead of feeling upset about it he’s just amused. He stifles another giggle and considers waking Yoongi up and making him resume rubbing his tummy, deciding against it when another snore fills the air.

For now, he lies and stares at the ceiling with a smile, the pressure of Yoongi’s hand on his stomach a comforting weight.

#sickfic #drabble #exhaustion #bts whump #jungkook whump #bts hurt/comfort #caretaker yoongi #chaptered fic #5 + 1 fic

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suyacho · 5 months

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hi lovelies, i know ive been in and out of here and im really sorry for that🫶🥹 just wanted to make a little post addressing some things going on, not on tumblr bc idk wtf is going on (if theres something going on) ive barely been on dash or didn’t scroll past more than 5 posts before closing it again because im busy. let me put it under readmore bc i’ll probably ramble🥹

anyways hi!! as i stated before i think, i started a new school and i started working, busy life!! now work has me exhausted, both mentally & physically, so i haven’t been on here much not have time nor motivation to write too much which i’m really sorry for, especially considering i promised. i love writing, i really do but i feel like the spark is gone, maybe it’s because i’ve been non stop writing smut (with occasionally fluff here n there) over the past few months? or scrap that maybe even since last kinktober because i didnt finish that on time either🥹 (this is probably why the sparks gone) don’t get me wrong, i love writing smut but when it’s so much it just makes me feel like eh not another smut fic and especially after work i can’t find the energy to write porn, like i’d love me itto all oiled up in bed but writing it?? (LMAO SORYRRHHR) it’s just idk🥹 i guess i feel guilty for posting a kinktober but never even finishing it or giving you guys shitty fics when i owe you guys nothing and this is just supposed to be a fun little thingie, but i wanna give back to you guys with the handful of people who have supported me all the way, from the start or even over a year, i appreciate it sm and want to give back to you guys🫶 i hope you all know i greatly appreciate it so thank you and i’m sorry.

on that note thank god i put a readmore bc i knew id ramble and this post isnt even about writing mainly LAMSOAOSOS

but anyways work yes!! i work 4 days a week which might not seem like much bc i know there are people who work way more but hey, im exhausted and that is valid regardless. i dont like my job which is ok, i picked it myself and know the consequences but the environment also drains me mentally, won’t get into that though!!

and onto school <3 i fucking love my school, my class, everything, i wish it was more than one day a week. but with school and the holidays coming around, it also means something. it means that i slowly gotta make a big choice that will impact my student life after this and will decide if ill be let into the bachelors im going for or not. which means that i really gotta start taking it seriously and work more on my portfolio, which now obviously will be my main focus, leading back to the writing but ill say that in the end!!

mentally i’m not ok, which is ok. we all have our ups and downs but lately it’s been feeling like a lots of downs, a lot of things play a role in that but i won’t be going into detail about that. i’ll be okay one day, i’m still alive and have a roof above my head Alhamdulillah.

all those things together mean one thing, i’ll be uploading less!! (which i’ve barely been doing anyways LMAO) to the two people that expected stuff, sorry </3, to the others i disappointed, i’m sorry </3

i’ll also be less active, or maybe just not at all for a bit but just know that i’ll definitely come back when things have settled down, hopefully with more motivation and more fics <3 life’s moving forward and so am i bit by bit.

i guess this is quite the dramatic way to announce a hiatus but hey it’s 6am and i barely slept and just rambled to my little space <3 but once again, thank you guys for the support and understanding. i just wanted to make a post so you guys know what to expect and all :)

thank you and have a good day/night!

#snow; sighs

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avastyetwats · 3 months

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Continued from here. @fxckin-blackbeard

"He's doing this on purpose..." Stede mutters to himself with a huff when he finds the dining area Ed-less. It's where Fang saw Ed last, just a few minutes ago, but of course, he was gone before Stede showed up. It wasn't the first time that happened today, or the second, and he was gone in the morning before Stede even woke up. Not that he slept much since he was up every so often checking over Ed who hadn't been feeling all that well the last day or two. He certainly didn't look well and though most of the crew didn't notice it, Stede sure did. He was more tired than normal, hadn't eaten as much for dinner, and he was sure he felt feverish just last night, and all through the night, really, though not as bad because Stede had the window open just a little bit to allow some cool night air inside of the room. Then he closed it when Ed started to shiver and... well, all signs pointed to Edward coming down with an illness.

Would he listen? Probably not. Which is why Stede suspected he was avoiding him. Because he didn't want Stede to fuss over him, though he knew Ed did enjoy being fussed over deep down. At least that's what Stede thinks based on other times where Stede insisted on taking care of him or where he just did it because, well, he loved Edward and he wanted to. He enjoyed taking care of him, spoiling him, and just making him feel relaxed, happy and loved.

All which he was determined to do especially now. If he was sick? Stede was going to take care of him. He wasn't going to let him get worse. Gods, that scared him, really, and that was bound to happen if he didn't accept that he was sick and allow himself to rest.

It's then that he hears his voice coming from above. From outside. He waits, listens to make sure, and then when he hears his voice again, Stede makes a run for it. He nearly pushes Fang aside as he runs through the hall, apologizing as he turns the corner, and ignoring the looks of bewilderment and concern as he zooms through the halls and practically comes bursting out of the door leading onto the deck. Instantly, he finds Edward. He's drenched in sweat, looking utterly exhausted, and his voice his barely there. Not to mention the congestion. He rushes over and places his hand on his forehead before pointing out how warm it is and though he's working under the sun, it isn't even that warm outside. If at all.

"Did you just shoo me away? Bit rude, Ed." He huffs, stepping out of the way when he heaves the line and once he ties it down, Stede is quick to move in. "Except it's cool out here, Edward. Even with all the work you've been doing, but this..." He gestures to all of him. "Isn't because you've been working, Ed! You're sick. I mean, can't you hear yourself? You sound awful!" He tells him. "You look awful." Not meant as an insult, of course, only to point out how sick he was. "I know you've been avoiding me, Ed, but you can't anymore. You need to rest because you get a lot worse." He steps in front of him, chest puffed out. "As Captain of this ship, I order you to stop working!" He demands, voice raised. Stern.

"Please."

#if you wanna continue feel free #if not no worries #felt inspired for this was all #c; stede bonnet #fxckin blackbeard

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luciehercndale · 9 months

Note

Congratulation on your follower count!!

Would you be up for writing some Will, Jem and Jessamine (and maybe Sophie) interaction, set pre-Clockwork Angel? I'd love to see more of their teenage dynamic explored. Thank you!

Thank you <3 I finally made it after a few months. I hope you like this. I tried to include everyone and put a little Charlotte too. This is set pre-TID as you asked, mostly around the time Jem and Will are investigating and they find the girl's body, so close to when CA starts. 🙂

Read on A03 💜

We Hunt Demons, Not Monkeys

“On the count of three,” Will whispered. “One, two, t–” and he jumped from the window onto the alley below.

Jem shook his head, and followed after him. “You should’ve said three,” he admonished him, but Will just shrugged. “Did you get it?”

“I got it,” he replied bitterly, glancing at the box in his hand, something hissing inside it. “Shut up, you!”

“Leave the poor thing alone,” Jem chided, but Will just scoffed.

“Will! Jem! By the Angel, do not hurry!” Jessamine said behind them. She had barely managed to leap from the window unscathed, and was trying to keep up the pace.

Will snorted, glancing at the blonde girl. “Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, and kept marching towards Fleet Street, unbothered, his black coat blowing after him as if he was in a hurry.

Jem offered Jessamine a sympathetic look and slowed down until she reached him. “Thanks, James,” she squeezed his arm lightly, and clutched her gloved hand under his arm as if they were a couple enjoying a night stroll. Which was weird, because she barely spoke to Jem, seeing his illness as a weakness. But he was too kind and didn’t say anything. She glared at Will’s back, wishing to burn a hole there, cursing that she could not. “I wish we had taken a cab to go back,” she lamented with a sigh. “I only like strolling when there are people around and shops are open and I can look at all the pretty things.”

“We are not strolling, though,” Jem objected. “And carriages don’t work at night, unfortunately.”

“What a pity!” she said quietly. “I wished I had stayed at the Institute. I could’ve slept. I’m going to have bags under my eyes come morning.”

“It’s already morning,” Will answered her, the effects of the amplification rune still hadn’t worn off. “And you could have stayed back, Jessamine. We could’ve finished this hours ago but we had to look out for you because you decided, of all things, to wear that hideous dress for a mission,” he spat without turning, his anger evident in his voice.

“Nobody asked you to, I can handle myself,” Jessamine frowned and looked at Jem, who could only shrug. “I hate patrol gear, so unladylike!” she seethed. “Just like your nasty manners, Will. You will never find a woman if you behave like this, and I hope no one marries you!”

Will just laughed. “The hell you know,” he said under his breath. It was a bitter laugh, one of those you make when you try to hide your true feelings. Jessamine only knew Will as the opposite of a gentleman, but she didn’t know how he was forced to behave like this. To answer like this. “Likewise, miss Lovelace. You pretend to be such a refined lady coming from a wealthy family when, in truth, you’re deluding yourself,” he stopped only to say the last part in her face. “ Coming to patrol with a dress? That’s foolish. Any person in their right mind would be turned off by your thoughtless behavior,” he snapped. “On top of that, you are also poor and mannerless. You better realize that before you delude yourself more.”

Jessamine squeezed Jem’s arm. Hard. Hard for her, at least. He glanced at Will and shook his head. He told him several times that he shouldn’t rile Jessamine up. She was quaint like a bouquet of flowers could be, but even roses had thorns. And even though they didn’t know much about her past, he knew enough to be aware that Jessamine couldn’t get over not being wealthy anymore and unable to afford her fashion items like she used to. Will knew that as well, but he seemed to enjoy bringing that up to enrage the girl. He would talk to him later, he would –

“You are disgusting, Will Herondale,” Jessamine let go of Jem’s arm, and tightened her grip around her parasol. “Even your name makes my blood boil,” she recoiled. “If I weren’t against physical violence, I would hit you with my parasol this instant.”

“I dare you to even try,” Will provoked her, and Jem saw Jessamine exhale deeply. She didn’t want to do that. “See if you can even hold a fight with a regular human being.”

“There is nothing regular about you,” she held her head high and seemed to prepare to strike. “You are a monster. A demon just like the creatures you so adore to crush to dust.” And then she advanced and tried to hit Will on the head. But he expected it. Jem didn’t.

Will dodged the blow with ease, moving on the side with the heavy box he was holding. Jessamine tried again, and this time, Jem stopped her by holding her wrist before she could continue. “Would you please end this? Both of you.”

“But he started it!” Jessamine complained with a scowl, while Will just stuck his tongue out and giggled like a school boy.

“I know, but you could have decided not to respond, Jessamine,” Jem said. “Do not lower yourself at the same level as him,” he looked at his parabatai, who was acting oblivious and was mocking someone wiping their tears.

“Like you?” she inquired, squaring her shoulders. “Do not act like you’re better than us, James Carstairs,” she replied coldly, and started walking away.

Their quarrel died down, and even Will stayed silent for the reminder of the trip back. It was dawn, and they were exhausted from spending the whole night in the heart of London looking for clues. Instead, they found – “A monkey, of all things,” Will snorted, tightening his grip on the iron cage he was carrying. “I wonder what it was doing in that basement.”

“Charlotte said some members of the Pandemonium Club brought them from India to experiment on them,” his parabatai explained. “Do you want me to hold that? It looks heavy.”

“We are shadowhunters, by the Angel,” Will rolled his eyes for good measure. “Why do we have to save monkeys? We must be on the lookout for demons!” he said with annoyance. “And no, Jem. I’ve got it.”

Jem didn’t want to argue. He knew that Will would carry it anyway, insisting that he had to look after his poor health. “We couldn’t leave it there,” he added, but Will was already entering the Institute and he quickened his pace.

“They should’ve put Will in a cage, see how fun it is,” Jessamine rebuked after them, but Will either didn’t catch it as he was far from them, or decided to ignore the girl. Better.

“I will deliver this precious package in Charlotte’s study,” Will informed his parabatai when they reached the first floor landing. “So I can finally rest my bones after a night of hard work,” he rolled his eyes, underlining the last two words.

“What do us, shadowhunters, have to do with these lowly apes? I risked being bitten thrice by that ruthless creature!” Will said, outraged.

“Don’t forget that you also told us we supposedly descend from them,” Charlotte replied, reminding Will of a prior discussion about some work by a scientist called Charles Darwin who claimed people evolved from primates, which had Will criticizing the man for the whole day because he couldn’t believe it. For now. “Moreover, they are not ordinary. They are magical. Enchanted. They must not fall into the hands of people who don’t just want to torture them, but force them to perform magic.”

“How are they, though? I mean, who enchanted the monkeys?” asked Jem. “And monkeys, plural?”

“We have no clue,” Charlotte answered sullenly with a sigh. “Maybe it was a warlock who wanted to have fun. From the Pandemonium Club. We must find them and try to make them reason. We need to investigate further.”

Will giggled. “Then let them have it instead of bothering us with such trivial matters,” he huffed. “We hunt demons, not monkeys that belong somewhere else.”

“I’m well aware of that, William,” she said. “But we must do what we can, especially since this matter concerns us as a group. Who knows what would’ve happened if the monkeys ended up being used for entertainment? Aside from the brutality that is using animals and holding them captive, we still don’t know what the monkeys are capable of.”

Charlotte could barely finish her sentence that they all heard a scream and glanced suspiciously at each other.

“Should we go and check?” Jem offered, and Charlotte nodded and rose from her chair along with him. Will and Jessamine stayed put in their places. She hadn’t spoken a word and had been sitting in an armchair by the window by herself, which meant she either didn’t want to mingle with them because she often repeated that she hated them all, or she was up to something.

“I believe it was Sophie,” Charlotte said, going for the exit with Jem. “Well? What are you waiting for?” she raised an eyebrow at the other two, who hadn’t moved an inch. Will had even picked up a book from the inside of his jacket and started to read.

“Why should I care?” Will demanded bluntly. “I’m in good company here,” he showed her the book in his hands, so they would know it meant that and not Jessamine.

Charlotte exhaled in exasperation and looked at Jem for help. “Come on, Will. What if it’s an intruder? You can beat him up,” he suggested, but Charlotte shook her head. “Or do what you want.”

Will rolled his eyes and closed the book with a thud. “Fine, Jem,” he stood up. “This book wasn’t getting anywhere,” he explained, which was partially the truth. He was curious to see what the ruckus was about.

“What about you, Jessamine?”

“Pretend that I don’t exist,” she muttered, and Will swore he saw her smirk.

Sophie was in the bedroom quarters when they found her. She turned to the group once she heard the steps, and everyone could tell that she was angry.

“Sophie, what happened?” Charlotte asked, worried, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I have been patient, Charlotte, and you know it,” she began. “But this,” she clenched her fists, her hands turning white. “This is absolute horror and it should not go unpunished. I may be the maid around here, but this doesn’t mean I have to be subjected to such treatment.”

“Wait, what should not go unpunished? Sophie, you’re being cryptic!” Charlotte said. “Are you hurt?”

Sophie shook her head and freed herself from Charlotte’s hand and retrieved a box from a room, which was her own. At once, everyone pinched their nose because of the revolting smell that came from there.

“What in the Angel’s name is a box full of fecal matter doing in your room?” Charlotte wondered, baffled, one hand trying to cover the hellish odor and failing. It was too strong.

“I think this belongs to you,” Sophie ignored her and looked up at Will, who was wearing a disgusted expression on his face and was trying not too hard to hold in his laughs. She thrusted the box full of the foul mess in his hands, and he barely didn’t drop it on his shoes or the carpet.

“What the Dickens do you think you’re doing?” Will spat, trying not to be triggered by the awful smell right under his nose.

“I am just returning it to the sender,” Sophie spat back with venom, her brown eyes would incinerate Will if they could. “Without my regards.”

“And I’m giving it back because I am not responsible for this, whatever it is,” he pushed it back in the maid’s hands with a glare, and this time she was about to drop it. “I don’t know why you are under the impression I put a box full of poop in your room, Sophie.”

“Because that is exactly what you would do,” she tilted her head and stared at him with contempt. “But you will not get away this time. I’ll make you clean with your own tongue until every surface shines and I can see my reflection in it.”

“Sophie, calm down,” Jem came to her, and when she glanced at him, her expression changed completely. “I know you are upset, but can you explain what happened before accusing Will?”

“I better show you,” she sighed, and put the heavy box on the floor after giving Will, the one she believed to be the culprit, one last death glare. She showed everyone to her small room, which was mostly covered with the same filthy material otherwise known as crap.

Will, who couldn’t help himself, started to laugh. “This is so out of my league.”

“By the Angel,” Charlotte said with exasperation, looking at the mess. “I believe I know who it must’ve been,” she declared to the group.

They went to her office where Will had deposited the monkey several hours ago, and they found the animal still there, locked in the box. “If the monkey is still here, how did it escape and cause that mess?”

“The horses,” Jem suggested. “It must’ve been theirs. A small monkey can’t do all of that in such a short amount of time, unless they have a colic, which is highly unlikely. Even an enchanted monkey.”

“By this point, Jemmy, I don’t care what it is as long as we find who did this to poor Sophie,” Charlotte said. “Right?” she looked at Will as she did so, and he pursed his lips together. “Let’s go check the stables, shall we?”

And there they went. It was Charlotte who checked the boxes where the feces were put before they would be discarded elsewhere. “One of the boxes is missing,” she announced. “So it’s not the fault of our little primate in my office. It’s definitely from the horses.”

“I found this in Xanthos’ stall,” Sophie told the group proudly, showing her prize. It was a dagger, and everyone recognized it at once, with its design of herons on the blade. “I think this is yours,” she said for the second time that night, thrusting the dagger into Will’s hand.

“Will,” Charlotte said gently. “I believe it is time you confess.”

Everyone glanced at him. Sophie was fuming, her hands still clenched in fists by her sides and she was probably imagining crushing Will’s neck with her fingers, or worse. Charlotte was shaking her head and looked defeated. But he didn’t care for either. They could threaten him with a sword for all he cared. What hurt him the most, although he tried to keep his composure, was Jem’s reaction. He was disappointed in him. It was a hard blow to take, but he must bear with the consequences of his choices.

Seeing that Will wasn’t answering, he said: “I thought you said you lost it when we saved the monkey.” He didn’t add that he had dreaded having lost the dagger, the only thing that he brought back from home in Wales. They all knew how much that dagger meant to him.

“And I did,” Will admitted. “I thought I did. Does it matter now? You all believe me to be someone who would vandalize a woman’s room with horse waste, I better plead guilty and make you all happy, shan’t I?”

“Nobody said you did it,” Jem said.

“Nobody said it, but I can see it on your faces,” he said bitterly with a sigh. “And you know what? I don’t give a damn about this.”

“Will, let’s talk –”

“What is there to talk about, Charlotte? He was caught red-handed!” Sophie insisted, but Charlotte shook her head.

He turned his back and started walking away from the stables, Charlotte’s voice calling after him. But Will didn't listen anymore, and pretended in his heart that being accused of something he didn’t do wasn’t hurting him deeply in his soul. If he wanted everyone to believe he was heartless, he had to act like he had no heart.

“Finally,” Jem said. He sat on the steps of the stairs that faced the entrance to the London Institute. “Where have you been?”

Will blinked, passed a hand through his hair, and shrugged. “Depends who's asking.”

“Come on,” he told him. “I was worried about you. We all were. You can’t just disappear like this.”

“I didn’t disappear,” Will argued. “I just took a long walk, that is all.”

“A walk which lasted an entire day?” He raised an eyebrow at his parabatai. “Come on, let’s go to Charlotte,” Jem put a hand behind his back to guide him, but Will stopped on the landing before they could take the long corridor that led to her office.

“I am not in the mood to see her, let alone talk to her,” Will protested. “I need to be alone. Can I at least be alone in this forsaken building or not? Are you afraid I’m going to smear the walls with something else this time?” he turned left, directed to his bedroom.

“Don’t be a fool.”

“William.” It was Charlotte, just as he’d dreaded. He heaved a deep sigh, and felt better that she couldn’t see his face. “I’m glad you returned. I was worried.”

“Ah, yes, the prodigal son returns,” he mocked with a lopsided smile. “Too bad I never had any fortune to spend recklessly,” he shrugged. “Just primal, smelly, crap. All in all, Shakespeare believed that feces brought luck and pushed spectators to defecate in a bucket before his plays. Maybe it will bring me luck.”

“Stop saying nonsense and come here,” Charlotte ordered, and he didn’t know why, but he listened this time. “I know it wasn’t you.”

“Good for you,” he sneered. “Do the others believe you?”

“It was Jessamine,” Jem intervened. “She confessed to it. She said she wanted to prank you because she wanted to teach you a lesson.”

Will started laughing. “She’s getting dirtier, I see. That little witch. She will pay for this.”

“No one is going to pay for anything,” Jem said quickly. “And she is also going to apologize to you. Sophie will apologize for accusing you too.”

“I don’t need their apologies, nor I want them,” he said sternly. “I’d rather thrive on their dislike for me,” he added, “than have them kiss my backside with fake apologies.”

“At least he came back, right?” Charlotte offered, but Jem just shrugged, helpless.

#tsc fanfiction #tsc fan fiction #tsc #the infernal devices #will herondale #jem carstairs #jessamine lovelace #charlotte fairchild #sophie lightwood #heronstairs #clockwork princess #clockwork prince #clockwork angel #tweety's celebration #cassadra clare #the shadowhunter chronicles #tweety.writes

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 2 years

Text

This Heart That Bleeds

Pairing: Yandere! Risotto Nero x reader

Prompt: “I will protect you from everything.”

Description: You didn’t know what a stand was, and really didn’t want to know; Risotto insists you must have one, and is willing to go to extreme lengths to get you to summon yours.

Rating: sfw

Word Count: 3633

Content Warning: Yandere, mentions of blood and bleeding, mentions of illness, imprisonment, canon typical metallica bs, ask to tag

Notes: Whoops! Guess whose making a part 2 to her first Risotto piece? Me, I am. Is it an excuse to blabber about the stand I want to use for my part 5 reader? Yes. Am I also just writing out my feelings a lot lately? Also yes. Risotto is also low key my jojo muse so don’t even at me. Also gold damn it I can’t help my fucking self I keep ending these in ways that make it seem like there’s gonna be more. Don’t be surprised if you see a part 3 for this. Fuck, I’m so bad at keeping up with multichaptered pieces…

Part: One | Two | Three | Four | Five

You had always loved sleeping; ever since you were little, you had just indulged in naps and bedtime a little too much. Even right now, though you could vaguely remember something being wrong, you were far too comfortable to care…

The sun wasn’t in your eyes like it usually was in the morning, your usually thin quilt had a nice weight to it now and the warmth from behind you was spreading all through out your body. No, why would you bother to wake now when this is the best rest you had ever gotten on the futon you called your bed?

It was only when you felt warm breath on your neck did you remember the situation you had found yourself in.

Waking with a start, you took a look around you, trying to soak in everything and anything you could from where you lay. The blanket you found over yourself was not the quilt you had used in college, the sun wasn’t in your eyes because there wasn’t a window anywhere near you and the warmth you felt behind you could be none other than…

“Calm down cara, it’s only me.” As if to comfort you, Risotto squeezed the hip he currently held.

You squeaked, rolling out of his grasp (he let you go easily) and fumbling to the end of the bed. You panted, looking at Risotto with wide eyes.

He sat up, resting his head on his hand as he watched you lazily. His hair was messy, and the hat he had been wearing before was nowhere to be found. He was completely shirtless now, causing you to look away uneasily.

You looked down at your own clothing, pleased to see you were in the same sweatpants and tank top you had left the house in last night; though your jacket was nowhere to be found…

“Calm down, he says.” You sit up and groan, your head pounding. “There’s nothing to remain calm about in this situation. I have no clue where I am and I woke up in bed with a stranger.” You grumbled, looking around the room.

You see your jacket hanging off the back of a chair, and a few other things of yours. In fact, they were things you I had noticed going missing these past few months– your favorite (and only) sweatshirt, some lipstick you looked particularly good in, the comb you used to brush you hair after you showered…

You shuddered to think Risotto had somehow been in your apartment without you or your roommates noticing.

“You’re awfully calm about it, if that’s the case.” He noted, sitting up in the bed as well. You sat there uncomfortably a moment before Risotto sighed. “Though, I should have expected it. It’s going to take some getting use to your new home, isn’t it dear?”

You didn’t offer any answer, simply watching as he rose off the bed and stretched languidly. “Why don’t you get some more rest? It’s far earlier than you usually get up anyways.”

You looked to a digital clock on the side of the bed he had been laying on, seeing it was barely past 8. Your cheeks flared red, knowing Risotto knew you often slept well into the afternoon, both due to your work schedule and your depression.

“I think I’d rather stay awake,” Though right after you spoke, a large yawn left you.

You looked away from him pointedly, not liking the way his face softened at your simple action. You still didn’t believe he really loved you. He couldn’t right? It was obsession, or delusion– not actual love.

Risotto simply shrugged, moving to one of the three doors in the room. You guessed bathroom, closet, and exit.

“If you say so, cara. Feel free to take a look around your new home.” You blinked as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Not even a moment later you heard the shower begin to run.

“…He really just left? Just like that?” You stood carefully, taking a closer look at the room around you.

You didn’t really think it would be how Risotto would decorate a room, in fact the colors were actually close to what you might do. You paused, looking again. In fact, it closely matched what you had slowly been shifting your own room towards. You tried not to think about it, pulling on your long lost sweater (it smelled like Risotto; you tried not to think about that was well) and moving to explore the rest of the place.

It was an apartment, you noted, looking out a bay window and seeing just how high up you were. So, leaving out a window really wasn’t an option. The back door to a small deck was near, and it unlocked without much of a fight. Walking out, you could only sigh; it was a terrace, and had no way of leading down. Still, you enjoyed your moment in the fresh morning air, your mood lifting slightly.

Back inside, you bee-lined for the front door to inspect it. When you got close you noticed a huge iron look hanging off the deadbolt. You rattled it a bit, sighing when it did nothing but clatter and clunk back against the door. It was super solid… Maybe there would be a way to climb down the porch?

You thought about it was you went back to exploring. The living room was alright, about what you would expect from a single room apartment. The kitchen was better than the one you and your roommates shared, being connected to the dinning area and not a single hallway. It was nice for the size of the space you found yourself in.

Aimlessly, you sat down on the couch, unsure what to do. Anxiety picked at you, not having your phone to mess with and being in an unfamiliar place as well. You begin to fidget with your sweatshirt, at least happy to have it back.

You're so lost in your thoughts, you don’t even notice Risotto enter until hes sitting beside you, looking at you concerned and speaking your name. “_____?” His voice is soft but the interruption from your thoughts is violent enough to make you jump.

“O-oh, hey.” You suddenly remember you have every reason to be afraid of Risotto. You place your hand over your heart, willing it to stop beating so wildly.

You wondered if you would ever get use to Risotto’s piercing crimson gaze.

“There’s something I want to ask you.” He hums softly and you notice he’s playing with a knife, nonchalantly sliding it between his fingers. You swallow a familiar lump in your throat.

“W-what is it?” You can’t meet his gaze anymore. He notices this and sighs.

“I’m not going to hurt you, tersoro. Not yet, at any rate.” You whip your head in his direction, glaring as he chuckled softly. “I’m kidding… you wouldn’t give me a reason to hurt you, would you dear?”

With his free hand he gingerly holds your cheek. You flinch out of his touch but he does nothing to stop you, simply sighing softly and shaking his head, murmuring softly “be patient…”

“I-I won’t.” Your stutter brings both excitement and a twinge of hurt to him, though the former outweighs the later. “What um… what did you want to ask me?” You try to change the subject, though the knife still worries you as you watch him play with it as if it was nothing.

“Do you know what a Stand is?” He kept your gaze, frowning slightly at your confused look.

“A Stand?” You repeat, frowning as well. “Like… something you use to hold another thing up?” You ask lamely, and Risotto shakes his head.

“Let me show you.” As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Risotto flicked open the pocket knife and slit his wrist hard enough for it to bleed. You gasped, about to ask him what was wrong with him before you saw. “Can you see them?” He hummed.

You remembered, just before you had passed out last night, you had seen the same thing; these little… metallic beans, dancing around Risotto’s skin. Now, they played around his cut, making it so the wound couldn’t bleed out.

“What… are they?” You look at them in wonder, too amazed to be scared in the moment.

“This is my stand, Metallica.” Risotto stated simply. “With it, I have the power to manipulate any and all iron, including the iron found in the human body.” You gasp, looking to his face.

“Wait! This is how you made me pass out last night!” You gasped. He ignored what you said, moving on to speak more.

“Only other stand users can see stands, _____.” You stared blankly at him, not liking what he was leading to. “That must mean you have a stand as well.”

“I… don’t think so. I think I would have noticed if I had anything like that,” You point to Metallica, which is still sitting out on Risotto’s cut doing whatever it was Metallica did.

“Not all stands are the same. They’re a manifestation of their users soul, and fighting spirit; it’s likely you never needed to summon your stand before because you were never in true danger…” Risotto muses.

“Well, shit” You sigh, shaking your head. “Something like that would have been useful last night!” You don’t miss the dry look Risotto gave you.

“I need you to summon your stand, _____. I have to make sure you can’t hurt me or yourself with it, cara.” You frown at his words.

“Trust me, if I knew how, I would have summoned it by now.” You roll your eyes, over it already. Risotto seemed to be losing his patience but you honestly didn’t know what else to say.

“I suppose I’ll just have to put you in a position where its the only thing you can do.” Risotto frowns but this time it feels… different.

He feels different– like the entire atmosphere of the room has changed with that.

“W-what are you going to do?” You begin to inch away from him, the familiar feeling of fear building up in the pit of your stomach.

Was he going to attack you like he did last night? He gave you a basic idea of how his stand worked though, right? Surely you had to be really close to someone to take the iron out of their blood, right?

“Trust me, this hurts me as much as it will you cara.” You didn’t like those words one bit, moving to create some distance between you and Risotto. You jumped off the couch, standing on the other side of the coffee table as you glared at him.

“S-stay away from me! I won’t let you hurt me!” You cried, backing up more.

He merely smirked, inching forward as your foot touched tile that lead to the kitchen. Suddenly, you stopped, crying out in pain. Your left forearm hurt more than you knew it to be possible. You looked down to it in shock, gasping as the shape of three razors could be seen under your skin.

“What did you do to me?” You cried, trying your best not to let the tears that welled in your eyes fall. The razors under your skin moved down towards your wrist, the path they left busing over. You yelled as the flew out of your wrist and clattered uselessly to the floor. You fell to your knees, clutching your wrist as best you could to stop the bleeding.

“Come now, you can take more than that can’t you _____?” Risotto got nearer to where you sat on the tiled floor and you glared at him.

“I told you to stay away!” Your yelling and tear filled glare did little to deter Risotto as he cooed and moved closer to you. When he was near enough he bent slightly, moving to card his fingers through your hair.

“Stop!” Your heart was beating wildly in your chest; uncaring about the bleeding in your wrist, you pushed Risotto with everything you had; granted, to a man his stature, that wasn’t much but you put all your hatred, all your discomfort and hurt and confusion at him into that attack.

Though the initial impact did little to stop him, a moment later Risotto coughed, blood coming out of his mouth. He staggered back, clutching his stomach in apparent pain.

“Cara…” He growled, eyeing you with a devious smile. “Do you know what you just did?”

You shuffled back, still holding your injured wrist as Risotto smiled. It was terrifying, seeing the grin on his face as blood dribbled down his chin and chest. You didn’t want him anywhere near you when he looked like that.

“I-I don’t know!” You yelled, curling in on yourself. “I just… I don’t want to hurt you! I don’t want you to hurt me!” You cried. “I just… I had to protect myself…” You sniffled, your tears finally falling down your face.

“You did what you had to do. You had no other choice.”

A new voice spoke, catching your attention. It was feminine in tone, and it came from your right. You looked, and saw a strange figure, a woman or so you thought.

“W-who are you?” Risotto was currently in too much pain to speak. Whatever your stand was, that small push you had given him had crazy effects on his body. His stomach area felt as if it were going to explode…

“I am your Stand.” She said softly. “I came because you needed me, but I’ve always been with you.” Her face remained passive as she watched Risotto in pain.

“So… you did that?” You asked her. “Whatever that is.” You added, frowning as you sniffled a little.

“I gave him appendicitis. If he does not get medical help soon, his appendix will burst and the resulting internal bleeding will kill him within hours.” She said simply.

“T-that’s not good!” You cried, knowing full well he could kill you before that took effect. “C-can you, er, can we fix him?” You pleaded with her.

“Simply touch him again and he will be as if it never happened.” Her voice remained even and calm, though you felt a storm of emotions overtake you.

Gingerly, you approached Risotto and grabbed one of his larger hands in both your own. As your stand said, simply with your touch Risotto’s labored breathing stopped and he was able to sit up. Immediately, you spoke.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t think it would a-actually hurt you I, I just–” You couldn’t even finish your sentence you were so distraught, fully bursting into tears at the idea that you hurt Risotto and he was going to hurt you in a way war worse than he had during your so called ‘battle’.

“Shh, _____, shh tesoro…” You didn’t even have the energy to argue as Risotto pulled you into his arms, the culmination of last nights and this mornings events all rolling together and coming out of you in a stream of tears, sobs, hics and cries.

“I’m not mad, don’t worry, don’t worry…” You hated how his deep voice calmed you, how his touch was so comforting compared to the pain he had caused you minutes before, that still throbbed in your wrist.

“You did so good cara, you summoned your stand! And it’s very powerful too, you’ve made me very proud…” This time you let him run his fingers though your hair, too tired to stop him.

“Y-you promise you aren’t mad?” You felt like a child, looking up at him with soft, puffy cheeks and a crack in your voice.

You hated it.

You hated him.

“No, tersoro.” Risotto dared to indulge in your sweetness in your moment of weakness, placing a kiss to the top of your head just as he did last night. All you could do was cry; everything was so confusing, you were in pain, and you were just so tired…

“_____, you’re hurt.” The voice of your stand spoke again. She felt so alien and strange, but familiar at the same time.

“No shit,” You sniffled softly, pulling back as much as Risotto would allow to glare at her.

You had to admit, if she really was a reflection of your soul… it was comforting, at least, to know your soul could stay calm when you felt like you were burning from the inside out.

“I can heal you as well.” She stated simply.

You blinked, sniffling once and holding out your wrist to her; it had at least clotted by now but your blood was, well, everywhere, including you and Risotto’s clothing. She placed two fingers over the wound, and like magic, it and the bruising up your arm were gone. With them, any pain you felt and any indication you may have been hurt in the first place.

“Thank you…” You smiled at her and, to your surprise, she smiled back. “So um… do you have a name?” You asked. It felt silly, asking your own stand if she had a name but well, at least she could answer.

“You may call me Glory and Gore.” Her smile stayed as you smiled a little wider, nodding.

“Glory and Gore…” The words felt so natural coming off your lips. “Thank you for your help today, Glory.” The nickname settled easily settled between the two of you. “You can um, head back now.” You said softly. She nodded, casting one last glace back to Risotto before saying one last thing.

“If you ever had need of me _____, you know how to use me now.” You nodded dumbly, watching her fade to nothing like the wounds she had just healed.

In reality, you didn’t know how she worked. All you knew really was that you could heal people and maybe hurt them if you were in danger. It was still all confusing…

“Your stand is extremely close range.” Risotto spoke, catching your attention more. “More than likely, less than a meter.” He mused. “You could only hurt me when you touched me and you had to touch me again just to heal me…”

“Couldn’t I um,” You pause, not really sure what you were saying. “I could just ask her what her ability is, right? I mean, unlike your stand she was fully capable of speaking…” You frown, unsure why you mentioned that in the first place.

“You could,” Risotto smiles down at you softly.

Though it seems sweet, you sense something sinister underlying it. You remember that you’re still held within his arms at the moment and shuffle a bit, trying to get away. Risotto simply holds you a little tighter, not quite ready to let you go yet.

“It won’t be necessary though tesoro. You won’t have to hurt anyone; I swear, I will protect you from everything.”

Had it been anyone saying it, you might have reveled in the slight flutter in your stomach. Coming from Risotto, though, you could only think of the irony behind his words.

After all, who would save you from him?

From this time forward, you would have to think carefully and consider your every action. You didn’t know what Risotto was fully capable of but you had to remind yourself that you were just as capable as him.

With Glory and Gore by your side now, you had a fair shot of getting out of this mess. Risotto would regret the day he underestimated you, you were sure of it. Just because you didn’t want to hurt anyone, didn’t mean you wouldn’t.

After all, you had a life to return too; people who genuinely cared about you, friends who needed your support and things you had yet to experience. If Risotto thought you were going to make this easy for him, he had another thing coming.

“What’s happening in that pretty little head of yours, _____?” Risotto pushed you a little farther, cooing as he pulled you closer to his chest.

You were just far too precious, even falling victim to your own thoughts while in his arms. He was already winning you over, he knew, even if you didn’t want to believe it.

“Nothing,” A sigh leaves your lips. “Can I, um, go shower?” You ask suddenly. “I’m kinda… covered in blood. You are too.” You point out.

Risotto had hardly noticed, too caught up in having you in his arms and knowing your stand wouldn’t be a problem for him; he should have known someone as sweet and innocent as you would have more of a support type stand…

“Hmm… I suppose so.” Reluctantly, he lets you out of his arms. “I’ll have some clothing set out for you in the bedroom.” You hadn’t even thought about that, simply nodding at his words as you slowly padded back to the bedroom you woke up in.

It had hardly been an hour since you woke up here and things had already ended up with you bleeding. What would more time with Risotto, the man that claimed he loved you, show? You really didn’t want to know, your gut churning as your second time in the room proved even more of your belongings were in the room.

The warm shower, stocked with scents and soaps you loved, was barely a welcome distraction. He had thought of everything– you had no doubt when you stepped out, the clothing would be some of your own, or something you had wanted before.

Things like this only happened in fiction, in the silly fantasies you thought up before bed to lull yourself to sleep. Now, it would probably be the stuff of your nightmares.

#jjba #yandere risotto x reader #yandere risotto nero x reader #risotto x reader #yandere risotto #jjba part 5 #jjba golden wind

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