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#almost all i write is love letters; anymore. not for lack of anything else. just for fondness. just for recognition.
staubfinger · 1 year
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It's not the center of the story, but I absolutely loved Padraic and Siobhan's relationship in Banshees of Inisherin. From what we know of she's been taking care of him ever since their parents died, or even before. And it's not really clear whether he needs to be taken care of or whether she simply feels obligated to. Sure, he relies on her and everyone seems to think Padraic is stupid, and while he's simple minded to some extent it's 1923, he's living on a small island, is able to read and write and is taking care of his animals and earns money. Considering the circumstances he seems like a pretty normal guy, so is he unable to live on his own or is it just more comfortable to have a woman around who's taking care of his physical and emotional needs? And is it just more comfortable for him or for her as well? The way the woman at the shop was talking about Siobhan never getting married makes it seem like it wasn't for a lack of suitors but on her own accord. We don't really know anything about the character's pasts, so the question how their living situation happened is rather interesting to me.
Because Siobhan is clearly unhappy, dreaming of getting away from this uneventful life, seemingly just waiting to die, taking her letter into account, while Padraic is content with the way things are. At least until Colm stops talking to him. And Siobhan tries to get away, why else would someone offer her a job unless she actively applied for it, however Padraic is confused and devastated because one day to a another nothing makes sense anymore, and she can't go then, he's her duty, her responsibility, her happiness isn't that important, so she rather cries herself to sleep instead of leaving her brother alone in his misery. That is of course until Colm throws another four fingers at their door and she does the only sensible thing and runs as fast and far as she can. And seeing her on that boat almost made me cry, because it was so freeing seeing her like that, a weight lifted of her shoulders, looking at whatever was lying ahead that could only be better that what she left behind. And even Padraic seemed happy for her despite the crushing sadness he felt over suddenly being all alone.
She writes, though, more or less immediately even. And not just to tell Padraic she's fine, but to offer him a place at her home. She did everything to get away, but apparently she never wanted to get away from him, but the life she led on this small island. Of course, she only lived that way because of her brother, he held her back, willingly or unwillingly, and still she doesn't want to leave without him. Padraic chooses his revenge on Colm, he wants her back, yes, lying in bed asking for her return, but mostly he wants his old life back. He wants to take care of his animals, wants his sister to cook for him and sleep next to him, wants to pick Colm up at two and head to the pub, wants Jenny to keep him company when he's sad. But none of this will ever happen again. So he can't choose a new life with her because that's not what he wants. Maybe a part of him doesn't want to tear her down with him, maybe he's relieved she's got away from the person he now is. He isn't nice anymore, but Siobhan remembers him as a nice person, he even pretends like everything's fine, that Jenny is right next to him while he's writing this letter, keeping up the appearance, so that she doesn't find out what he's about to do. Because mean people are forgotten, nice ones will be remembered.
And I just loved this ending for those two, loved them being apart and yet longing for the other's company. She kept her unhappiness hidden away from him and now he keeps his from her, sets her free and hopes she'll come back to him one day.
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frecklydork · 8 months
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ok I’ve seen a few self shippers write letters to their F/Os… today is my anniversary with Megatron. I’m still very much in my Barbie fixation so instead of reblogging a bunch of TF posts like I did for heatwave this year, I’ll just write Megatron a letter.
Happy 3 year anniversary, Megatron. One year from today, I will probably be feeling so much better. Right now, I’m staying in another dimension (it’s all pink, and there’s... actually a few things here that make me think of you... even though I’m so far away now). I’m not brave enough to return to Cybertron just yet, therefore I must postpone celebrating our special day (if you can call it special, psh don’t flatter yourself), but in the meantime I’ll say this: I love you and I miss you more than anything in the world. You have no idea how much I miss calling you stupid while you roll your eyes, and I miss your smarmy smirk when you’d say something that gets under my skin. and I miss associating you with literally every single Charlie Puth song. I know we have an on and off relationship, I know we clash more than anything else, but we have something dangerous together and it’s addicting. I love it, I know you love it too. And I miss it. I really miss it. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you — that is to say, I’ve never hated anyone the way I hate you either. But that makes you special. You’re the only one who makes me crawl back for more even when you drive me crazy. You’re quite possibly the most fun person I’ve ever been with, for lack of a better word…
I don’t know when I’m gonna feel better. More often than not, my trauma feels so unbearable, I worry I’ll *never* feel better. I worry I’ll never go back to loving so fully with my whole heart. So many things changed almost a year ago, I was hurt and in the process i haven’t been able to see you. I’m sorry about that. You must be wondering where I went, why I left all of you without even saying goodbye. but I have to eventually get better, right? This cannot be the end of it.
Someone I thought I could trust did everything they could to keep me away from you. Someone really rotten spent over a year taking advantage of my kindness when I was at my lowest point, and ruined my connection with you and everyone else on Cybertron I had loved. It ruined me. I don’t know if you’d want to see me right now when I’m so broken up without you. I hate flinching when I see you, when I see everyone in that universe of yours. I hate believing you’d hurt me on purpose, because no matter how much we “fought”, I never believed you’d ever lay a hand on me. Now it’s the only thing that can cross my mind when I see you. I hate how my love with you was twisted into something so awful, I hate how this person made me wholeheartedly believe that you’d be violent towards me, for no reason other than the fact that I’m existing. I’m still in shock, it’s been months and I’m still so baffled how I’ve lost you. I hate having traumatic flashbacks when I see you. I hate the nightmares, i know it isn’t really you, but the fear towards you is still there and it lingers when I jolt awake. I hate that my insomnia is unbearable because I can’t sleep at all anymore. I hate losing you. Worst of all, I hated feeling you slip away from me each and every day for months until I couldn’t even look at you anymore.
but I’m starting to slowly but surely separate you from this person. I’m nowhere near ready to see you, but I’m not giving up on us. You used to make me feel so happy. I want that back. I promise I’m working so, so, so hard every single day to overcome this terrible pain inside of me.
one day I will kick my ptsd so hard in the ass and we won’t be apart anymore. my abuser may have ruined things but I’m coming back to you one day, even if it’s gonna take me a long ass time. I’m a little better than I was even just a month ago… can you imagine how far I’ll be in one year? The progress is slow, but it’s happening. And the people I’m with in this new dimension I’m writing to you from… they’re kind and gentle and glittery pink 24/7. They’re taking care of me and helping me get over a few triggers. but I never stop missing you. And you know I must be struggling if I’m so openly willing to admit that I miss you, haha…
I hope you believe in me. This feels like the hardest battle I’ve ever had to face. Being conditioned to believe that you and Starscream and every other Decepticon and Autobot would hurt me… losing you… it’s been the worst experience. But I know if I can get thru this I can get thru anything. I am your little warrior, aren’t I? Let me prove to you how resilient I am! Watch me get better! Next anniversary, I’ll surely be in your arms again, making you laugh. In the meantime, please wait for me. I know I’m so broken right now but I hope you’ll understand and you’ll be there when I come back. I promise I’ll come back. Know I’m thinking about you everyday and always missing you.
Just… don’t let it go to your head. Your ego is big enough already. Stupid. 🌟
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wangxianficfinder · 2 years
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Fic Finder
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1. Hi guys! Im trying to find a fic (completed i think) where wwx was a war hero(or something) then became a concubine. Cant remember much but just that he went with wrh but killed wrh with a power that the jiangs were concerned would kill wwx as well. There was a conspiracy to poison the lans and allies. Sorrry i know its not much. Couldnt find it anymore in ao3.
FOUND? I Started From the Bottom/And Now I’m Rich by x_los (E, 57k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel, Fix-It, Arranged marriage, WQ Lives, Sugar Daddy, Black Widow, Crack treated seriously, YL WWX)
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2. hello mods and others! i have a request for the fic finder. its a modern au wangxian fic where lwj starts getting letters (and eventually gifts) from someone (i forgot if there was an alias but it was wwx writing them) in his locker. they basically become penpals and wwx 'challenges' (?) lwj to try to find/catch him. i remember something about wwx leaving the school for unknown reasons, and i no longer remember how exactly it ends. i remember wwx was friends with mianmian and the first time lwj almost caught him, he was in conversation with her while placing a letter. the fic is somewhat clear in my head but i just cannot find it! thank you for this blog mods as well!! what you guys do is very nice, so thank you :D
FOUND? unrequited letters by Anonymous (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, High School Pining, Crushes, Unrequited Crush, Fluff, Light Angst, Humor, First Kiss, Secret Crush, Love Letters, Secret Admirer)
FOUND? [Yakult] How It Began by Lanforyourlife (G, 14k, wangxian, modern, high school au, falling in love, letters, butter knife angst)
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3. Hey I'm looking for a fic. Thank you for helping me search for it. This is the plot: Wwx gets caught by jgy for spying at the koi tower. Then, jgy brings the whole of the koi tower to wwx's and lwj's room. Wwx comes up with the brilliant idea for him and lwj to make out as an alibi. The whole koi tower gang storms into wangxian's room while they are kissing. Then, the whole gang awkwardly leaves... but lwj and wwx decide to make out some more. 🤣
FOUND? Shifting Suspicion by scifigeek14 (T, 3k, wangxian, canon divergence, making out, blushing, first kiss, getting together, mildy dubious consent)
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4. Apologies in advance for the lack of details but I'm trying to find a fic I read where wwx asks lwj to fake date but lwj actually agrees to date for real? I *think* the agreeing to date for real is a trick of phrasing that only is revealed at the end of the fic but I'm not sure, it could be immediate. Also probably a modern au? Thanks @inemmasmoonlight
FOUND? Out of the Bin and Into Your Heart by Alaceron (T, 27k, WangXian, Modern AU Fake/Pretend Relationship, Oblivious WWX)
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5. Hi! I was wondering if you could help me find a fic? I only remember one scene where LWJ said something (or assumed something) that led to a misunderstanding between him and WWX. When it cleared up, LWJ said "What have I done to you?" and WWX answered "I think you broke my heart a little". I'm sorry if it's super vague, but I can't remember anything else, except for the fact that it was almost certainly a complete fic with only one chapter. @blueghost13
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6. Fic finder, where lwj has prosopagnosia. Wwx was talking about jc looking at him as if he was a different person then asked lwj why he doesnt have the same problem as jc. He later admitted to not remembering wwx face coz he was face blind. It was oneshot, probably.
FOUND? Faces by osiesaur (G, 1k, wangxian, faceblind LWJ, LWJ pov, WWX in MXY’s body, married)
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7. Hello mods! Thx for all ur hard work I hope yall aren't working yourselves too hard! There's this fic I have been trying to find where WWX saves a disciple from a monster but when he somehow fails, the disciple runs away and he's attacked but luckily LWJ is there to save him BUT the monster's poison gets in his eyes and he becomes blind? And it was actually LWJ orchestrating it all because he wants WWX to depend on him? And WWX moves into the Jingshi and LWJ kinda takes advantage of him?? @sentientcongee
FOUND? Blinded by Love by Blueflower740 (E, 3k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Rape/Non-Con, Dark LWJ, Blind character, Getting together, Dependency, Manipulation, Oblivious WWX, Explicit Sex, Possessive LWJ, Good sibling JC)
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8. Hi 👋  for the next fic finder, can you please help me find a wangxian au that i read awhile back. I think its a time travel fix it where both or just wwx travels to the past. I remember wangxian finding a xuanwu egg in the cave and it hatches in their presence because theyre soulmates or something along those lines. They end up with 5 eggs that hatch (all mythical beasts).
FOUND? ❤️ Fallen by Jaywalker_Holmes (M, 151k, wangxian, Mojo’s post)
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9. Hello! I was hoping you could help me find a fic. I'm pretty sure it was complete. The only things I remember is that WWX was brought back and found out (Emperor?)LWJ had sculptors make statues of a naked WWX to worship. I appreciate any help!
FOUND? Blessed Wi-Fi is Back by Anonymous (T, 4k, WangXian, Ancient Rome, Crack, Emperor Hadrian and Antinous Au, Cultivators in ancient rome, Anachronism, not a historical fictioni don't have a degree in greek or roman history) "Or in which, Emperor Lan Zhan, distraught after the death of his beloved, orders a cult to worship Wei Ying and naked statues of Wei Ying are erected everywhere as a result."
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10. Hello! Thanks for all your work. I hope you guys can help me :’). I lost a fanfic where skin Ling received a letter saying that WWX was annoying people in a little town, but he was actually dying. Long story short: WWX ended helping JL in Koi Tower and then he decided to bully JWY and LWJ because WHY would they leave WWX alone when he likes responsibilities? I hope someone remembers the name because I really want to reread it, if I remember correctly, this fanfic is complete. Thanks for helping!
FOUND? Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 63k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Protective WWX, Protective JL, POV JL, jC & WWX Reconciliation, eventually, Reluctant Matchmaker JL, this kid is doing his best)
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11. Hi!! For the next fic finder can you help me find a fic where WWX is a little, and the Jiangs refuse to let him become little. In the story there were 3 types of people: Carers, Littles, and I think like someone who isn’t either. So when they go to CR, LWJ finds out, and he tries to help WWX get away from the Jiangs. It’s been awhile since I’ve read it, and I can’t find in my history. I would really appreciate the help!
Hey!! I’m the anon who asked for #11 on the recent fic find. It wasn’t Being Vulnerable is the Only Way to Allow Your Heart to Feel True Pleasure. I definitely remember that both JC and JYL went to CR with WWX, and they were both making sure that WWX didn’t regress into a little. Another scene that I kind of remember was that LWJ discovered that WWX was a little while he was writing the rules in the library. And another scene is that WWX basically has a breakdown when he witnesses MianMian being able to regress into a little
Not FOUND Being Vulnerable is the Only Way to Allow Your Heart to Feel True Pleasure by Anon (T, 1k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, YZY/JFM, little space, headspace, age regression, little WWX, caregiver LWJ, fluff & angst, abuse, self-hatred, WIP) series MDZS little space adventures
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12. anyone know a fic where lwj is injured and stuck in animal form and wwx cares for him? i remember he was stuck in a tank with wwx other pet lizard and at one point he grows big and the tank breaks. the lans are looking for lwj - lxc has a crush on either nhs or jc in this. pretty sure its a modern au - it is not fell by you or love always wakes the dragon
Hello i sent in a request to help find a fic but i found it myself lol - the one where lwj is injured and wwx take cares of him and there is another pet of wwx (thought it was a lizard but it was suibian as a gecko) and the lans are looking for him. i said lxc had a crush on either nhs or jc but i was wrong and it was nmj! (Love at first bite by luckymoonly if you were curious)
FOUND! Love at first bite by luckymoonly (M, 14k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Fluff, Humor, Dragon Lans, Smut, Mpreg)
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13. Hello! I would appreciate any help finding these two fits! A) one is where wei wuxian makes up a story about knowing little lan wangji to try and explain why he wouldn't let go of him. I'm pretty sure wei wuxian time traveled but not lan wangji. B) fem!wei wuxian is engaged to jiang wanyin but both don't feel romantically attracted. Jang wanting like wen Qing and wei wuxian lan wangji. Thank you!
13A)
FOUND? Come Back to Me by s6115 (M, 9k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, cloud recesses study arc, soulmates)
13B)
FOUND? This Tumblr Fic by @shanastoryteller  [the 3rd part is linked bc it has the links to part 1 & 2, but the post refers more to the first part. also, i tried to look and im not sure how to tell if there are more than the three parts i found sorry] Link to part 5 that has previous parts linked ^^
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14. Heyhey, thank you for doing gods work! I'm looking for a modern day fic in which little A-Yuan got lost in de mall (i think he ran outside to watch some sort of festival?) And dad!lwj is freaking out and wwx finds little A-Yuan and takes hil vack to his appartment and feeds him pancakes. There is a policestation, they know wwx and wen qing is an officer there. Pls help me find this fic and thank you! @follyfallenflapdragon​
FOUND? I know what my heart wants by yakuso5u (Not rated, 28k, wangxian, modern, single parent LWJ, fluff, pining, getting together, accidental child acquisation, domestic, slice of life)
The ask from @follyfallenflapdragon I don't remember the name but I recognize the fic! Wwx found yuan out by the highway while walking home from work and it was like night and winter and ly wasn't dressed for it so wwx was like omg small child about to freeze to death so his first thought was GET HIM WARM so he took him home which was nearby & didn't get around to calling cops before they already found him. Lz wants to kill him thinking he kidnapper until wens vouche for him & realize he savior
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15. Hello!! Please help me find this fic i read a while back.WWX was in a gang and LWJ was a detective or something. They got married to save WWX. There was also some thing related to WWX 's parent's death.His parents were scientists. Something happened to LWJ and he lost his sense to feel any touch. I don't really remember much. It was quite a long fic. Please someone help me🙏🙏.
FOUND? #15 is a fic by Shinnochi and she deleted all her fics on AO3 cause she was bullying some writers online and one of her victims collected all the proof. So she had to delete her account.
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16. hi ❤️ for fic finder, id reaaally appreciate your help! the only thing i remember is that jc finds out that wwx doesn't have a core but wwx tells him some lie about the reason (wzl?), but later they're at LP i think? and wwx confesses the truth to jyl but jc was standing at the doorframe, hears everything, yells a lot, and then ??? yunmeng sibs feels ig? its not Tether or The most dangerous thing is to love (both wonderful).. i feel like i went thru every single core reveal fic ctrl+f-ing the word door 😂
hi, i asked for 16, and sadly its not the fic suggested (even though its a great angsty fic 😭), i remember reading it in like 2020, and i think the reveal happens in the great hall or throne room or whatever its called. thank you!
NOT FOUND! Silence Like A Cancer Grows by julomaiboulomai (M, 12k, JC & WWX & JYL, LXC & WWX, canon divergence, truth curse, suicidal thoughts, hurt/comfort, dissociation, golden core reveal, hopeful ending) Theres a scene like that in it, but Jiang Cheng is around a screen rather than a door.
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17. Hey! First time asking for help finding a fic! Hope you can help me, all I remember is that they’re in a village investigating the murder of several ladies by the hand of the ghost of a young master (his parents were looking for a bride for him and he killed all the prospects) that was actually in love with a servant in his manor, hope that’s enough to find it!
FOUND? let me sing to you by greybird_crookedbranch (T, 61k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst with a happy ending, BAMF WWX, Case fic)
FOUND? that’s Prayer for the Dead by Shinocchi it’s gone from AO3 but retrievable on the Wayback Machine (be aware that Shinocchi has become persona non grata in the fandom for reasons you can look up on Fanlore.)
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18. Have you ever read this modern wangxian ao3 fic, i can't remember if its a FWB fic or Sugar Daddy fic, where Lan Qiren wants LZ to stay away from WY because "he was a bad influence" and so LZ promises himself it would be the last time he will meet WY. He always prepare him breakfast tho because WY always seems to be starving. Until one day, because LQR found out, he decided to finally "break up" with WY, and he regrets it because he made WY cry and didn't even get to touch the food. Thank you!
FOUND? Honesty is the Best Policy (Except if You’re an Asshole) by piecrust (E, 22k, wangxian, college/university au, porn w/ feelings)
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19. Heyo Mods! Im looking for a fic where LWJ’s co workers forced him to drink in secret and dumped him in a bar. WWX works there and he took him to a cafe i think. LWJ stole WWX’s drink I remember. WWX called LXC and he came to get him. It was very cute. I kinda remember WWX drawing something and LWJ keeping it. The next day when he’s sober he came again! That’s all i remember. Help me please🥺
FOUND! i know who i want to take me home by ScarlettStorm (E, 16k, wangxian, modern, bartender WWX, drunk LWJ, caretaking, meet-cute, fluff, comedy, smut, minor angst)
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20. Hi! I'm looking for a fanfic where wwx and lwj were making out in the woods and Lan qiren caught them and then suddenly wwx caught a panic attack because he was scare he would be kicked out?
FOUND? 🧡Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 348k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) (There's a scene like that in ch.8 ~ Mod C)
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marypsue · 10 months
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16 and 21 for the fic ask meme
[from this meme]
16. At what point in the process do you come up with titles?
There are two possible times I come up with titles: either as soon as the premise lands in my head, or when I am staring down the draft on AO3 and about to post it. There is no in-between.
21. Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why?
Here's my little secret: I don't delete anything anymore. Anything that doesn't work where I'm trying to put it gets copied and pasted into the very end of the document where the story lives, after about half a page of blank space from the last line of 'real' writing. Then I have it, preserved in amber, for if I get another twenty scenes in and realise that I need something and that thing that I cut out twenty scenes ago is exactly the thing I need.
(This happens more often than you might think. I completely cut about 2/3 of the final chapter of the road goes ever on, thinking I'd have to rewrite it from scratch. Nope! Just had to chop up those 2/3 of a chapter that I cut, rearrange it like a maniac with a corkboard and some red thread, and write a handful of interstitial sentences. And now it reads like it was always meant to be that way, and I can't even remember where all the stitches are. Ain't writing neat?)
To answer the spirit of this question and not the letter, though: yeah, all the time. Part of that is because I keep scenes that I cut, and if I really love them, I'll often find a way to work them in somewhere else (or into something else), so it doesn't feel like quite as much of a permanent sacrifice as it might. Part of that is because...well, have a story.
I'm a fresh baby adult. I have just recently graduated high school, and now the full weight of everyone's expectations of what I'll do with my 'potential' and everyone's disappointment that I don't have a clear, safe career path planned out yet are resting directly on my shoulders. I'm in a university art class. I'm very, very nervous, because I don't feel like a 'real' artist, because I don't feel like I belong here with all the good artists, and because I have a nervous perfectionist streak almost as wide as my entire body.
We are doing a unit on sculpture. I have never in my life done any sculpture, except for a couple of (extremely ugly) clay crafts in elementary school. We are assigned to take a rectangular block of styrofoam, and make an animal shape out of it. The kicker - we can't add anything to the block, only cut away.
I manage to make a reasonably decent-looking animal shape in my rough draft. But as soon as I try to translate it to the big block, it's immediately obvious that my design...lacks something. It's blocky. It's bulky. It's ugly. It looks...close to the shape of an actual animal, close to photorealism, but the fundamental rectangular-ness of it is so overwhelmingly strong. I'm carefully whittling away at the edges and the corners and the curves, scared to wreck it by making a big change, but nothing I do is helping at all.
Luckily, I have a very good art professor. Luckily, I have limited patience for fussing around with things that aren't working. (Luckily, I've been listening to MCR's Danger Days on repeat and it, especially the idea of 'Would you destroy something perfect to make something beautiful?', has been setting little fires in my brain.) Luckily, somehow, for whatever reason, I get fed up with nibbling around the edges and seeing no results. I get brave.
And I cut a deep curve into the side of my sculpture, cutting nearly half of the material away in one stroke.
The sculpture comes to life. The change is instant and obvious, and, more importantly, it's good. It's not anything resembling photorealistic anymore - if an actual animal was shaped like that, it would be very, very uncomfortable or possibly very dead - but it looks more like an animal than it ever did when I was going for 'realistic'. It has motion. It has visual interest. It carries the eye through the sculpture. And this massive improvement on the one side makes it suddenly extremely obvious where the rest of the sculpture needs similar cuts and angles to balance it.
I think I ended up getting a B or a C+ on that assignment. The sculpture turned out kind of wonky, with some angles that still didn't sit right. It was not a piece of timeless art. But that wasn't what was important. What was important was that I took a big risk, and got rid of what wasn't working, and it made something good. Something compelling. Something interesting. Something that, for all its flaws, I was much, much prouder of than the dull, safe thing I had been working on.
Sometimes, especially when you're just starting out as a writer, just starting to find your voice and feel confident in your work, every sentence feels precious and it feels dangerous to move or remove them, because what if you'll ruin it, what if you'll never make anything that good again. But if you're writing, it means you care enough about telling a story to try at it. Trying, and continuing to try, is how improvement happens. As Annie Dillard so beautifully put it, these things fill from behind. You will write something as good as that again. Many things, even. And even better things, so long as you keep plugging away at it.
And...you know your story. You know when something doesn't fit or isn't working, way deep down. The worst thing you can do for yourself is leave it where it doesn't belong anyway because you're scared of making a mistake.
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nbmakoto · 3 years
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and they were roommates
#there are a million and one emotions too many in this body of mine.#what terrible huntsdog can feel only but regret in finding its teeth lodged in the hand that pointed it towards tge quarry its defending?#i pace in circles. in-pace-with the way i shake#with how the cold finds me#a game shouldn't feel a *trick* . it shouodnt. why does my mind convince me so?#why am i left battered and winded by that i meant to enjoy?#surely i did in the moment; i know i did. what shifted?#or is this tiredness something natural? is it sadder; then; for my unfamiliarity?#i grow more comfortable with the voice that haunts my throat#but ever more distressed vy the words it winds#i sound far more genuine in text than in talking#but i dont *mean* to be! i mean it; both times!#almost all i write is love letters; anymore. not for lack of anything else. just for fondness. just for recognition.#just for i-know-you-i-regard-you-i-consider-you-dearly- and all; and everything you make -#for i will consider brush stroke and defining line and every color on yhe page and ponder the movement used to form them .#for an inarticulable fondness that i will leave behind and hope is known. well-wishes-good-luck-be-safe; because maybe#if there are more words; if i can layer them; they will hold a little faster against the wind. i#i-want-you-to-be-okay-because-you're-important-and-i-care-about-you-and-i-care . maybe if i say it enough#maybe if i get close enough#maybe if i can be fond enough; you will know- maybe you will know warmly; or fondly; of with some comfort#maybe you will know. certainly. maybe you will hold confidence that your very presence or parting is worth so much regard. it matters.#but i cant... in audio; i cant be as fond. impulse makes a cruelty of me. my *tone* makes a cruelty of me.#how can i make myself sound like i mean what i say? how can i make myself not *say* things that are too-sharp; too-callous;#things that disregard the kindness im offered in favor of a shitty insult. why do i default to those; why...#my voice pitches up for the arrival of those i am fond of. it is genuine; moreso perhaps; but ive no fondness for the sound of it.#who wants to be invoked shrill-ly...? their name used in such tones? and for what? *by* what?#hmn.#i dont know if i want to be nicer; or want to be less scared of my friends not being charmed by me anymore once they realize im cruel...#maybe both?#i want to stop offering everything i have at the slightest sign someone i want to stay around may want it . i dont like the discomfort
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inactiive · 3 years
Note
I jus need an extremely rough dom ron fic w a giant mix of daddy kink, choking, clit & tit slapping, reader being a sucker for his moans & he’s extremely loud & vocal & they’re on top grinding over his bulge when he’s in his boxers & then rides his thigh while he both praises & degrades her & then he fucks her rly hard pls😔
attention — r.w.
ron weasley x reader
summary: purposefully trying to push ron’s buttons is never a good idea.
warnings: degrading, daddy kink, choking, clit/tit slapping, thigh reading, grinding, praise kink, sex, swearing, stomach bulge, pet names, breeding kink, minor cockwarming, message me if i should add anything else!
authors note: i don’t really have an excuse as to why i haven’t uploaded in so long. i’m going to be uploading mostly on weekends now because the weekdays have been so hectic for me. but enjoy xx <3
taglist: @anchoeritic @anxietymonsterr @ch0kemedracomalfoy @hufflepuff-cutie  @kyleed24 @valwritesx @georgeswh0re @Slutherin-7 @cherrysicarus @dracossimp01 @asimpfortheweasleys @acidluvs @Axva03 @sadwhorexxx @wholebigboxofyikes @mirandabate28 @sweeterthansammy @okie-dokieartichokie @literallyjamespotter @shesthegirlnextdoor1 @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa please fill this form out if you want to be added to my taglist
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You let out a dramatic sigh loud enough so your husband, Ron Weasley, heard it down the hallway. It had been almost a week since he had touched you and you couldn’t help but miss him. This past summer, Ron had been helping his twin brothers, Fred and George, with their joke shop. But ever since the season ended, he’s become more and more busy due to auror training. Of course you’re absolutely proud of him and you want him to follow his dreams, but can’t a woman miss her husband?
Before, you and Ron were having solid sex at least three times a week and at most everyday. He explained to you that he would have to work extra hard and he wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with you. You were bummed out about it, but he assured you that it was for your future family.
You told yourself you’d be able to last throughout his training, but it’s only been a week (not even) and you felt like you were going to explode. Everyday that Ron came home, he expressed that he was too tired to do anything after dinner. He felt bad about it, sometimes coming home to you already asleep, but he needed to do this.
So, as long as you would have to, you continued to sulk while Ron was writing to someone important in his office. After a few minutes, Ron still wouldn’t come out of the room, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. You stripped down to nothing but one of Ron’s jumpers and panties.
Before entering the office, you knocked on the door. Ron looked up from his desk and his eyes lit up when he saw you.
“Hi, darling. What’s up?”
You walked over and tried to crawl into his lap. “I just miss you, Ron.” You whined.
He gave you a sympathetic look. Ron obviously missed you too.
Ron kissed the top of your head and pulled your waist closer to his body. “I know, sweetheart, I just need to finish up this letter and i’ll be in bed with you soon, okay?”
You shook your head instantly. “I don’t want you to come to bed to sleep, Ron. I need you.”
Ron’s jaw dropped slightly and for a second he was speechless. It felt like it had been forever since you two experienced any sort of intimacy in bed.
“You need me, huh? Well, why don’t you be a good girl for me and wait patiently in our room?”
You were starting to grow irritated. “Ron, please I can’t take it anymore! Your letter will be here tomorrow, I promise.” You tried to look convincing as possible, but Ron saw right through your facade.
“Sweetheart, don’t be a brat. I’m sorry but i’ll be there soon.” He said sternly.
“But, Ro-”
“Now.”
You scoffed and stood up to push yourself onto his desk. At the same, you knocked over a glass of his coffee and you both watched it spread throughout the wooden desk. Oh fuck, you’re in for it now.
You looked back at Ron and you couldn’t tell if he was pissed or extremely pissed. “[y/n], look at what you did! That letter was important to me and I don’t understand why you have to always be a brat when you don’t get what you want.”
“Daddy, i’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to, I promise I'll be a good girl.” You begged.
He sighed in defeat. “I know you didn’t mean to, bunny, but look at what happened when you decided to disobey me, hm?” He grabbed onto your chin so you could look at him. “Now, I want you to go into our room and wait for me. Naked.”
You obliged his orders and rushed over to the room down the hallway. Quickly, you took off Ron’s jumper and your underwear. You sat on the bed nervously while picking at your fingers, not knowing what to expect from Ron. Once you heard his footsteps, your heart started racing. You were intoxicated with lust that traveled all the way down to your core.
When Ron arrived at the door, you could swear you almost started drooling. His red hair was messy while his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his body. You looked at him nervously and his expression was unreadable.
“On all fours. I’m not going to ask again.”
You closed your eyes knowing what would happen next. Although you did feel bad for ruining Ron’s papers, you loved riling him up.
All of a sudden, you felt a strong hand push your head into the mattress while your ass was up in the air. “Godric, you look so good like this, baby. But, I have to punish you first. You understand don’t you?”
“Yes, daddy I understand.” You softly replied.
“Don’t worry i’ve decided to go easy on you tonight since I haven’t been spending as much time with you. But, I want you to count up to ten. That’s how long it took for me to fix my letter that you ruined.”
He softly stroked your back and traced his hand to your ass. Ron squeezed it a few times before it quickly came into contact. You whimpered slightly before you started counting.
“O-one!”
Every time Ron’s hand left an increasingly red handprint on your left cheek, you couldn’t help but get turned on. You were in such a vulnerable position obeying his every word.
Once he finished, you were cradled into his arms. He softly pressed kisses to your body, especially the stinging pain on your behind. “You did so well for me, darling. But, i’m not done with you.”
He connected his lips with yours, but this time it was more aggressive. Just a second ago he was so gentle with you while whispering praises in your ear. Now, that has changed and it couldn’t excite you any more than it already had. You turned over to straddle his waist and he yanked your hair back. While pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck, you began to grind onto his hard on. He grounded loudly into your ear. 
“Fuck, you’re already so eager, sweetheart. What am I going to do with a little whore like you? Go on then, get off on my thigh.” 
With each leg on either side of his thigh, you started to rub your clit on his leg. You let out small whimpers and moans into Ron’s ear. His hand slowly made its way up to your throat and he squeezed it. As you felt the air getting trapped in your lungs, you became more and more wet. Connecting your hand with his, you wrapped his hand around your airway once again. 
“You like that, don’t you? My sweet little girl likes to be choked?” He smirked. 
You didn’t respond due to the lack of oxygen you were getting, but you replied by moving faster on his thigh. Ron knew you were getting close as he felt your movements become more frantic and he didn’t want you to finish yet. 
“Alright, bunny, get off.” 
You whined at the loss of contact and he gave you a hard glare. “What did I say about being a brat? Get on your back now.”
He threw you onto the bed and slapped your breast before sucking all around your body. You couldn’t describe how Ron made you feel. He was always a mix of being gentle and rough with you. 
“What do you want now, baby? Do you want Daddy to fuck a baby into you?”
“Yes, please Daddy! Just come inside of me, please. You don’t even need to prep me. I fingered myself to the thought of you this morning while you were gone.” You moaned loudly.
Ron’s eyes darkened. “You did? I didn’t know my innocent baby was a whore. Tell me whose cunt is this?”
“Y-yours, Daddy.” you whispered. 
Ron then slapped your clit which you whined at the contact. “I can’t fucking hear you.”
“It’s yours! It’s all yours, Daddy. Now, please fuck me.” You begged. Ron was always a sucker for your begging. 
“Okay sweetheart, open those legs for me.”
You did as you were told trying to ignore the fact that you were about to combust. Ron softly pepper kissed down onto your body and his hand fluttered over your sex. You couldn’t help but thrust your hips upwards into his hand. Ron wanted to comment about how needy you were being but if he was being honest, he was needy too. You could tell by the way he was not so subtly grinding onto the mattress. 
“C’mon Ron.” You tugged at his boxers and successfully removed them from his body. He watched your eyes become hooked to his cock and it made him hard even more. If that was even possible. Your hand came into contact with it and he hissed instantly. Ron grabbed your wrist stopping you from continuing. “Princess, I suggest we finish what you started.”
You nodded shyly at him and turned around to lay on your stomach, but he stopped you. “I want to see your face while I fuck you.” Blood rushed to your cheeks and you moved to lay on your back again. As much as he loved fucking you while your ass was in the air, he also loved seeing you come undone just as much. 
The head of his cock slipped through your folds and you sucked in a breath. “You okay?” Ron questioned.
“Yeah, I’m okay, love.” you paused. “Just don’t be gentle with me tonight, please.”
And with that, Ron withdrew his hips and thrusted into you, hard. You whimpered loudly only to earn a hand around your throat. You tried to remain eye contact with him but every time you tried your eyes seemed to roll into the back of your head. He felt your muscles tightening around his cock and he truly couldn’t take it anymore.
Gradually, his hips gained speed, and every thrust hit that spot that made you fall in love with Ron Weasley even more. 
“Don’t stop, please. Don’t stop.” You begged.
Your comment made Ron’s hand tighten on your throat. “Since when did you get my permission to be so greedy? Are you the only one that’s allowed to come?”
“No! Want you to come too, Daddy.” 
“God that’s right.” Ron groaned and picked up his speed. Looking down, he could see his cock sliding in and out of you. He seemed so big compared to you and it felt like he could break you at any moment. A bulge on your stomach became increasingly prominent as he thrusted into you, each one becoming more sloppy. 
“Fuck.” He breathed out. “You look so good under me, sweetheart. Let me come inside of you.”
“Yes, please, I want you to come inside of me.” You were beginning to clench around him. “I want you to get me pregnant with your baby.”
“Beg for it. Only good girls get to cum.”
Fuck, seriously? All you could hear is slapping skin and the sounds of Ron’s cock slipping inside of you. “Fuck. Please, Ron. Just let me cum with you. I want you-” You swallowed. “I want you to fill me up.”
After ten more seconds of Ron’s fingers digging into your hips while he fucked your brains out, his hips snapped forward. Simultaneously, you felt yourself come undone and fall over the edge. You let out a high pitched moan while Ron groaned loudly into your ear. 
“Fuck. Fuck. You’re so beautiful when you cum, darling.”
He continued to fuck you slowly and eventually pulled out, but you pulled him back towards you. 
“Stay with me. Just for a few minutes.” you murmured.
“You know if I say yes I’ll end up falling asleep.”
“I don’t care. I just want to hold you.”
Ron relaxed on top of you, not believing that you were his. 
You were always going to be his girl. 
hi! if you requested to be added to my taglist just message me. i haven’t posted in a while so i’ve forgotten who asked me. :)
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miraculouscontent · 3 years
Note
so... could you write some more adrien/chat salt? your fics and posts salting on him are always so good 🥺
Thank you! And of course~
—————
Ladybug had considered what to say multiple times over the day she'd had to think about it. She'd thought about all the different ways she could've said it, and what would've been the most effective when who she was talking to was taken into account.
However, sitting there on the rooftops with Chat Noir, there was a point where she just had to say it, no matter how it came out.
"Give me your miraculous."
Chat jerked his head over to her, jarred from the silence and eyes wide as his brain seemed to process the statement. Ladybug, meanwhile, stared ahead at the night sky, as if she hadn't said anything out of the ordinary.
After a few more seconds, she got a reply in the form of laughter, Chat buckling over with a hand on his stomach. "That's quite the Hawk Moth impression, Bugaboo!" he exclaimed, though calming himself enough to give her a half-lidded gaze and add, "But you don't have to do that to impress me, you know."
She didn't reply, only turning to look at him with her expression entirely flat, not showing any reaction to the mixture of teasing and flirting.
He was still grinning for a while, but as the silence dragged on, he began to falter. "...Ah—" He shook his head, leaning towards her and trying to force a smirk. "—if you want a wish that badly, all you need to do is say the word, m'lady! I can grant all your wishes."
She remained stoic, maintaining eye contact with him but not encouraging his banter. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head as it became clear to him that she was very much not joking.
One of Chat's ears twitched in confusion. He leaned back to his normal distance from her, seeming at a loss for what to say now that the atmosphere was finally registering with him.
Ladybug took a breath, noting that she had his attention. She straightened and looked back over Paris, saying, "I can't do this anymore."
He followed her gaze, squinting as if the answer would be written out there in bold letters for him. "Being a hero?"
"No, us. Us being partners." While he gaped at her, she stared down at her lap, her hands clutching her thighs as if that would give her some sense of stability. "...Chat, do you think this is a game?"
Chat shifted and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not having expected the conversation to go here. It was hard to tell whether he was trying to keep things light or if it was just his genuine reply when he responded, "W-well, I'm definitely in it to win if that's what you mean—"
"I talked to Xavier Ramier today."
She watched his expression carefully, his hand leaving his neck and hovering awkwardly in the air as he looked at her. He seemed puzzled, not knowing what this had to do with the conversation, though his brows rose briefly like he'd remembered something.
She continued, trying not to show too much in her reaction as she explained, "Since I'm not as busy right now, I thought I'd check in on some of the people who got akumatized but I didn't have time for earlier. He was one of them." Idly, she pulled out her yoyo, almost mindlessly tapping away at it as she navigated through the various menus. "He said you came by to check on him a while ago; said that you were sitting there, just enjoying the day with him. He told me that you asked him if he missed being Mister Pigeon, or if he was feeling any negative emotions."
"I—" Chat tried to interject.
She didn't hear him, too focused on telling the story. "Then I asked him when you showed up, and he didn't know exactly when, but..." She showed him her yoyo, the messages Chat had sent clearly being timestamped for reference. "I figured out from what his rough guess and asking around that it was when you were supposed to be on patrol."
"I was on patrol!" Chat protested. "I was just checking up on him."
"You were relaxing on a bench," Ladybug reminded him., her tone remaining consistently flat. Snapping her yoyo shut and returning it to her hip, she added, "I even asked around and people told me they saw you go into the Grand Paris Hotel. I heard from one of the butlers there that you were sulking, and got excited when you saw Chloe and Sabrina fighting."
He opened his mouth to explain himself, but she could tell that he was struggling to come up with an excuse; he honestly believed that she'd never find out about any of this.
"I trusted you, Chat. I trusted you to cover for me when I'm not there, no matter what." She needed to swallow back her emotions for that one. "Why would you do that? Why would you hope for akuma to happen? Why would you lie to me?"
"I didn't!" Chat insisted, waving his arms frantically. "I—see... it was an off day! I was just—you know I can always do my best around you, and I did patrol! I just... made a few stops along the way! I wouldn't lie to you!"
"So you don't lie to me," she stated cautiously, "and you've never lied against me."
"Of course not!" he assured.
She paused for effect, just long enough for him to grow uneasy, then said, "Theo Barbot waved me down a while back."
Chat visibly cringed, and she could hear a hissing sound as he sucked in a breath.
"He wanted to congratulate me. He saw the picture of us kissing on the Ladyblog and said that he was glad we could finally go public about our relationship." Her gaze sharpened even as she stared at nothing in particular. "I asked what he meant, and he told me that you said that we were a thing. He said that that's what got him akumatized."
"It wasn't..." He averted his gaze. "...a lie exactly."
In response, Ladybug stood, throwing her arms outwards as emotion began to seep into her voice. "This is about more than lies, Chat; it's about everything! If you can only do your best around me, then what happens if an akuma gets me?" She didn't need him to answer. "You'll lose it. I need someone who I know will take care of things even if I'm captured."
"I would!" Chat retorted he stood up, the nervousness now showing on his face. "I would do everything to get you back, I—"
"Party Crasher," she cut in without missing a beat.
He recoiled like she'd physically struck him.
"And it's not just that I can't rely on you if I'm taken out; I can't rely on you not to take yourself out," she said pointedly, turning away from him and taking a few steps away to distance herself. "You're always throwing yourself in front of me and sacrificing yourself, sometimes when you don't even have to and always without just talking to me about it! Do you have any idea how that feels? You tell me all the time that you'll listen to me and how I'm the planner here, and then you go and make plans without me."
She heard Chat's hurried footsteps from behind her as he tried to match her pace and argue, "It's not like that! It's just—it's because..."
She turned just as he reached her, her stern gaze making him stop. "Because my anger is so irresistible?" she asked. "I'm just so adorable when I'm mad that you won't listen to me?" She advanced on him, forcing him back. "Thanks, Chat, that makes me feel so much better that you can't take me seriously because you just love me that much," she said sarcastically.
"That's not what I meant!" he argued, though at that point it seemed like all he could do was weakly protest that he didn't mean anything that way. "I'm only teasing, Bugaboo!"
"Then what do you really mean?" She clenched her fists at her side. "I've told you to stop calling me Bugaboo and you never do! You're too busy bantering and talking about our relationship to focus on the fight, and when that kiss happened - the one that happened because you got shot by Oblivio and I had to save you - you laughed at me for being upset and you didn't care. I'm tired of having to deal with all of that; I'm dealing with enough as guardian!" Reminded of her own status, she steeled herself up and held a hand out to him, managing to calm down enough to say, "Now, revoke your miraculous. I'll give it to someone else."
Chat retreated, his hand moving to cover his ring protectively. The nervousness had partially faded away into him being generally upset, though he also didn't try to defend his actions anymore. "You... if you give the ring to someone else, you'll know their identity!"
"I've already got a plan for that," Ladybug stated, holding her hand out more insistently.
Because of course she did. She wouldn't have been doing any of this if she hadn't given it a lot of thought first. There were pros and cons to bringing in a new cat, and when she really weighed it all together, this was the only way forward. Chat wouldn't learn, and she'd been stuck in a limbo of shouting at him, being ignored, and having to push down her feelings in the future or risk damaging their teamwork. She'd devalued herself - devalued her emotions - in order to believe that she could make it work because she needed him.
Except, she didn't. She needed a cat; someone to use the more active miraculous to balance out the lack of firepower that the ladybug miraculous had. It wasn't that it could be just anyone, but it certainly didn't have to be Chat. While she deeply regretted going back on one of Master Fu's decisions when he couldn't even have a say in it anymore, the fact of the matter was that she was the guardian and she made the rules.
Chat backed away a few more steps, his eyes darting around as he sought a way out of the situation. Then, facing Ladybug, a mixture of upset and offended, he argued, "We're a team! We still come out fine no matter what happened! You don't even know my identity, I've kept it a secret just like you wanted!"
He was reaching, and they both knew it. That had always been the reason for revoking someone's miraculous: someone else knowing their identity. However, there were reasons beyond that, and them "coming out fine" from a battle was hardly a high bar for someone getting to keep theirs. Ladybug knew that well enough after having dealt with Miracle Queen; even if Chloe's identity hadn't been revealed, she was still a bad person who felt entitled to a miraculous.
But Ladybug also understood the game Chat was playing at: that it wouldn't be right to take his miraculous when he's protected his identity. The logic was flawed, but she nonetheless crossed her arms and gave him a blank look, staring into his green cat eyes and starting to fit pieces of a metaphorical puzzle together.
Kung Food, Horrificator, and Startrain: those at minimum were times where Chat's civilian form had to have been inside at the time the akuma happened. Chat had also mistaken Francoise Dupont for an elementary school after they'd defeated Kwamibuster, but she mentally acknowledged that he could've been lying. He had to have been, if they were trapped in that building together with Horrificator. It narrowed things down significantly, and she knew that he had to have been a teenager like her due to the timer on his miraculous.
And while she was aware that Chat's green eyes meant nothing considering that she got green eyes as Lady Noire, there were little coincidences sprinkled throughout their history together that didn't add up unless she came to one final conclusion.
Chat showing up at the museum even though he'd have no way of knowing that an akuma could've been there. Chat knowing that Volpina's illusion was fake. Chat's mysterious loss of his miraculous when Style Queen was attacking.
The feather allergy.
Then, Ladybug glanced at the hand he was covering; the one she knew had the cat miraculous on his right ring finger. She almost felt like congratulating herself for constantly resisting the temptation, because when she actually thought about it, it was so obvious.
She knew that hand, as she'd seen it so many times. She had pictures of it plastered all over her wall and the realization made her feel sick, her heart dropping as opposed to skipping a beat.
"...Adrien Agreste," she said finally. "You're Adrien Agreste."
He blinked, his expression blank at first before dread started to take its place. His mouth slowly fell open, words trying to escape but there weren't any to be found.
She let the moment drag, stepping forward to close the distance between them. Adrien's face flashed over Chat Noir's for a moment and she swallowed, summoning all of her confidence to address him properly.
"Tell me, Adrien. Tell me that this hasn't been a game for you. Tell me that you wanted to protect Paris all this time. Tell me that this hasn't all been about you."
She waited, not expecting or hoping for any answer in particular, because it no longer mattered; the conclusion would the same regardless.
Ultimately, she got no reply, and within the next ten minutes, the cat miraculous was in her hands and Adrien was promptly taken home.
—————
Marinette took a breath of the cool night air, having chosen to walk home rather than get there as Ladybug. She needed time to think, and walking helped her clear her head from the rush of everything that'd happened.
Her purse rustled, Tikki popping out and leaning off the side to look up at her. "Is everything okay, Marinette?"
"Yeah." She nodded her head, just to reassure Tikki further. "It was for the best. It's a lot, but... I wanted to do it; for me, and for Paris."
Regardless of how many emotions she had to deal with, she was glad she knew. She supposed that she could've taken Chat's miraculous without seeing his identity - though it would've been complicated - but it helped her sort through so many thoughts in her mind.
She let out half of a chuckle, idly thinking that she dodged a bullet. If dating Adrien would've turned him into any level of Chat Noir - or, honestly, just knowing that he was Chat Noir - then it was definitely for the best that she figured out his identity. She wasn't sure how she'd behave around him the following days, but just the idea of things being any semblance of "normal" in the face of "the famous model Adrien Agreste," with no stutters or freak-outs...
It was nice, making everything feel a little brighter. Maybe Alya would even stop claiming that she's just "jealous" of Lila, the girls would stop teasing her so much, and she could put all that time she used to spend thinking about Adrien into something more productive. There hadn't seemed to be a downside in sight, actually.
As Marinette kept thinking on the subject, her gaze wandered off to the side, taking in the sights around her, and she paused when she noticed that she was right next to the Seine. The revelation didn't surprise her - she knew she'd have to pass by it to get home - but it did inevitably remind her of Luka, especially since they'd broken up only a day ago.
The metaphorical wound was still fresh, not helped by the fact that Lies had come right afterward as if to remind her of why she had to break up with him; she couldn't have a normal life, and she certainly couldn't have a boyfriend. It didn't matter if she loved Luka and he loved her back, because she would always have to leave their dates at the first sign of an akuma.
Yet, nevertheless, there was some form of comfort in staring out at the river, and she found herself traveling down the nearest set of stairs to walk right next to the Seine instead of so far above it, her eyes trailing along the surface of the water to search for the Liberty.
It took a few minutes of walking, almost making her wonder if she'd passed it without realizing, but then she saw the ship resting in the water, right where it always was. She approached, taking in the various colors and the silly rainbow weathervane, her body automatically relaxing at the memories of those two weeks of crafting kittycorn-themed costumes from paper mache.
Curiously, she noticed that the gangplank was up, as someone presumably had forgotten to pull it back before going to bed that night. Marinette walked over, crouching down and wondering idly if it was possible that it had been put up but had just fallen over at some point, yet it was clearly set perfectly in place.
Mentally trashing the thought, she placed her hands on her knees and started getting up. As she straightened her back, her eyes involuntarily scanned over the deck of the ship, a familiar color palette of blues, blacks, and whites registering in her mind before she fully recognized what—who it was. Her eyes locked onto the figure, and she had to slap a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from letting out a yelp.
It was Luka, sitting down on an instrument case with his guitar in his lap, though Marinette noted after a moment that he was actually asleep. Concern furrowed her brows as she took in his posture, one of his arms resting on the case while the other was perched on the guitar's base. His back was arched against the taffrail of the ship and his head was tilted back to the point where his hair was falling into his face.
There was no way that was comfortable.
Marinette hesitated, feeling almost like she was trespassing, then gave Tikki a look to hide inside the purse while she walked across the gangplank Any footsteps against the deck of the ship seemed unusually loud due to the otherwise quiet night, but Marinette tried to ignore it, approaching Luka cautiously so as not to startle him.
He was frowning, and she involuntarily copied the expression onto her own face. Outside of the bumps in their dates and the break-up itself, it was rare to see him as anything but calm or happy, and she got the distinct feeling that it wasn't just because he was asleep that he was making that face.
She reached up, lightly fixing his hair in case to try and keep it out of his eyes when he woke up, then lowered her hand to his shoulder. She gave him a light shake, then another with a little more effort when the first failed to stir him. When that failed as well, she leaned close, looking side to side like she was afraid someone would see her and think she was doing something strange. However, no one else was around, allowing her to safely whisper his name to him.
"Luka."
She stiffened when she got an immediate response to that, Luka letting out a low humming noise as he shifted. She jolted back, trying to give him space and blushing at the thought that shaking hadn't woken him in the slightest but her voice had immediately.
Luka's eyes opened halfway, staring blankly up at the sky. Brows lowering in confusion, he tried to move, though a whine escaped him when his body protested at the uncomfortable position he'd gotten himself into. He winced, but eased forward and leaned on his guitar for support, only then looking forward and meeting her gaze.
She shifted in place, feeling awkward but knowing that it was too late to back out now.
"...Mmmarinette?" he asked, squinting like he wasn't really sure she was there. He blinked a few times, his eyes widening a fraction when he confirmed that she was real. "Marinette?"
"Ah—hi," she replied, waving awkwardly. "Um, sorry, it was just—I was walking, and I saw you, and you were sleeping weird—not that you sleeping is weird or you look weird when you sleep!—but you seemed really uncomfortable so I just..." She gestured vaguely at his current state of awareness.
He let out a tired sound that may've been an "oh," then ran his fingers into his hair and rustled it, like he was attempting to shake the tiredness out of himself. That done, he managed a small smile at her that didn't stretch anywhere near the amount it usually would. "Thank you. I'm glad you care about me that much."
"Of course I do!" she blurted out, a little offended at the idea that she wouldn't. She realized belatedly how loud she'd been and rubbed an arm in embarrassment, but didn't take anything back either.
Deep down, she knew where he was coming from. It must've been hard for him to watch her ditch him and then deal with her ending their relationship with next to no explanation. Even with the confidence he constantly radiated, not having any information on the 'how's or 'why's must've been difficult, and she hated keeping secrets from him.
Even Chat got better than that...
Luka tilted his head at her, the anxiety probably written all across her face. Concerned, he began to ask, "...Is everything—"
"Luka," she called suddenly, straightening to face him fully. "I—" She swallowed, needing a few seconds to compose herself. "I know this is a bad time, because I'm not really supposed to be here, and you can say 'no,' but... can we talk? About what happened?"
She bit her lip nervously as he sat up, his body noticeably more awake than before. She felt like he deserved to know more about the whole situation, but he also had every right to refuse her for waiting - even if it wasn't that long ago - so the possibilities were nerve-wracking.
Thankfully though, Luka relaxed after a moment, lifting his guitar out of his lap to set it aside, the bottom of the body resting on the deck of the Liberty while the neck was supported by the taffrail. Settling his hands in his lap, he then gave her his full attention, even offering a soft look of reassurance.
Her shoulders eased; he was going to hear her out. Part of her almost felt bad, wondering if maybe he was forcing himself, but she also knew it was important for him to get closure on the matter.
"Okay..." She breathed, acknowledging to herself that she hadn't planned this is the slightest. After some internal debate, she sat down on the deck of the Liberty in lieu of a proper seat, earning a look from Luka but no further comment otherwise. Running her hands along her capris, she stared up at him and finally began, "It—it wasn't you."
He raised a brow, silently encouraging her to go on.
"I mean, maybe you weren't worried about that, but I just... I needed you to know that." She shrugged half-heartedly. "You didn't do anything wrong, Luka - you're amazing - and if it wasn't for me always having to leave and rush off and make you feel bad, I would've stayed with you."
"...Really?"
She blinked at his tone, the corners of her lips quirking up as he covered his mouth, clearly not having intended to blurt that out. She simply nodded at him, falling back into her serious state as she continued, "You deserve someone who can be dedicated to you, and I just—I can't, and I can't tell you why either." She slumped, ashamed at the secret she was forced to keep. "I wish I could. I do trust you, but it's not about that. It's—" She pursed her lips, struggling to find the right words. "—it's not really something I can say?"
She dropped her gaze to her lap, but didn't miss the flicker of understanding in his eyes. It was important to her, for him to know that she believed in him and that he'd done everything right in their relationship.
"...Are—" Luka paused, voice laced with worry. "Marinette, are you being blackmailed or something?"
She almost laughed at that. His deduction wasn't entirely wrong, as "go defend Paris from a supervillain and tell no one about it, and if you do then they might be in danger," certainly did sound like blackmail. Still, she shook her head, reassuring, "It's nothing like that. I'm sorry. I really want to tell you, a-and even be with you, but I can't do either." She clutched at her knees in an attempt to ground herself, glancing back up at him with a mixture of sorrow and guilt. "I don't know what you see in me, Luka, but I feel so lucky that you like me so much, and then unlucky because—" She choked briefly, her cheeks heating up as she realized that she'd never said the exact words to him before. "—because I like you too and I want it to be that simple but it's not. You want the truth and the truth is that I can't tell you no matter how much I want to. I know I forget things and had to skip out on dates because I was so stressed out, but you made everything fun and not stressful and I loved every date we went on until... you know." She gestured wildly to imply 'unsaid things happening.'
He was quiet, not showing any particular reaction, though she'd spent enough time with him to know that he was glad that she was talking more openly about it and clearing some things up that he might've been wondering about. His expression seemed blank on the surface but he was relieved to know something even if her words were pulling his emotions in every direction.
Mentally preparing herself for the next step, Marinette pushed herself up and walked over to him, finding it hard to meet Luka's gaze even as she hunched over and boldly placed her hands on top of his. Out of the corner of her vision, she could see his eyes searching her face, not knowing what to expect next.
"...I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know I apologized already but I'm sorry. I should've known things would end up like this but I wanted to date you anyway. I can't even tell you when this is all going to end so I can't ask you to wait for me either because it's not fair. You deserve a relationship that isn't so complicated... that doesn't involve me."
She flinched at the emotional punch to the gut she'd just given herself. She'd already known that dating would be near-impossible so long as she was Ladybug, but it was a completely different feeling to face Luka and say it to his face. She wasn't sure if she'd been his first crush, but the thought left a bitter taste in her mouth that it'd all gone so wrong and there was no hope of getting it back.
She took another breath to calm herself, slowly raising her hands away from his. "Anyway, that's all I wanted to say," she murmured, still not making eye contact with him. "Thanks for trying to show me a good time, Luka, but... maybe you should fall in love with someone else."
She turned away before her emotions could get the better of her, about to walk off when a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist and jerked her back. She squeaked in surprise, glancing behind her to see that Luka was on the edge of the instrument case, arm stretched out like he'd impulsively hurried to stop her. She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but he spoke first.
"Why?"
"W...why?" she echoed.
"Why should I fall for someone else?" he asked, his tone somewhere between hurt and serious.
"Ah." She tilted her head, confused and with no idea of what he was getting at. "Because of everything I said?"
"That you enjoyed our dates? That it wasn't us who cut the song short?" His other hand reached up, holding her hand as well while he looked at her tenderly. His voice grew quiet, like he couldn't believe what he was saying. "That you like me?"
Marinette blushed, but found it hard to look away from him this time. "I...I do like you. Um—only you, but—Luka, the dates..."
Luka slowly stood up, gently squeezing her hand in a show of support. "I didn't even think that I'd be taking up too much of your time, Marinette. I wanted to be together with you, but I didn't want it to be hard either." He offered her a lopsided smile, adding, "And I'm glad you told me, because I don't think you being busy means we can't be together."
"...What?" Marinette gaped at him in disbelief. "I thought you said that you wanted the truth, and—"
"You gave it to me," he reminded her. "You said you can't tell me and I believe you."
She waved her free hand wildly. "Y-yeah, and I'll have to run off and we'll never know when!"
"Then we don't have to date, or we don't have to date as much." He'd said it like it was the simplest thing in the world, and maybe it was. "Why should we be playing sad solos when we can play a happy duet instead?"
She went to retort, but he'd so swiftly shot down her arguments that she was left speechless. She hadn't even considered that - trying to compromise with him on their dates - because she thought she wouldn't be worth it for him, yet here he was, offering himself to her again now that everything had been laid out for him. It seemed too good to be true, but...
He was her Second Chance, and every moment she spent with him just reaffirmed why she'd adored being given that chance in the first place.
She made a small noise as she tried to hold back emotion, her hand shaking in his. "You want me that much?"
His smile grew wider and more genuine, clearly recognizing that she was about to accept him. "Yeah. Do you want me too?"
Afraid her voice might crack and ruin the moment, she nodded and turned fully towards him. She held out her other hand for him and he took it happily, both of them able to enjoy each other's company once more.
Once things had properly settled down, she held back a shy giggle and asked, "S-so, do we just... pick up where we left off? Or just—before everything started going wrong?"
He hummed, seeming to honestly think about it. "I guess so. What verse do you want to start from?"
She retraced all of the bad dates in her mind, like she were rewinding a movie. One moment in particular stuck out to her, and she tried not to grin too much as she suggested, "The cinema? After I gave you the necklace?"
She didn't have to clarify any further, his eyes lighting up in remembrance. He grinned and leaned down to be closer to her level, her getting up on her tiptoes to meet him halfway in a kiss, thus finishing what they'd started from what felt like forever ago. She could feel Luka's hands caressing hers, as if to reassure that everything was alright and he was happy.
She waited until the kiss broke apart, then looked at him to ask teasingly, "Better than setting up a whole date to do that?"
He pressed his forehead to hers, sighing happily. "Definitely."
She beamed at him, almost tempted to kiss him again before she remembered what time it was. She gasped, inadvertently surprising him with the sound, then recoiled and placed her hands firmly on his shoulders, sitting him back down on the instrument case.
"You need to sleep!" she told him, then corrected a second later, "But—not here! Not right here anyway! It needs to be in a bed! Your bed!"
He laughed at the abrupt shift in tone, but nodded obediently at her, resting his fingers along her wrists. "I will. You'll sleep too, right?"
She nodded back, her heart skipping a beat at his care for her. "Yeah, I promise."
Her hands lingered on him, as did his with her as she pulled away from him. As much as she would've liked to stay with him, it was late and she still had a lot to take care of.
Rushing across the gangplank, she waited until she was safely on the other side so she wouldn't risk tripping as she turned to face him, walking backward and waving excitedly. "Bye, Luka!"
He suppressed a chuckle at the happiness-induced loudness of her voice, then waved back at her. It was only when he got up to take his guitar inside that she finally turned around and started officially heading home.
—————
When the last of the Adrien photos had been shoved into her trash bin - even the ones on her corkboard - Marinette allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief and collapse into her chair. It'd taken a little longer than she'd thought, but she was still satisfied with the change. The walk home and conversation with Luka had brought all of her thoughts together and made her feel optimistic about how the day had gone.
"Marinette?" Tikki looked up from the chocolate chip she'd been nibbling on, her being the only kwami awake at that hour. Voicing the inevitable, she asked, "What are you going to do about the cat miraculous?"
Marinette turned, acknowledging her, then reached into her purse to pull out the ring in question, turning it a few times in her hands. It was weird having it in her possession while she still had the ladybug earrings on, but it wouldn't stick around for long anyway, so she wasn't concerned.
Tikki continued, an urgency in her voice, "You're Ladybug, and you're not supposed to know anyone's identities, but you're also the guardian now, so you're supposed to give out miraculouses and know everyone's identities!"
Marinette, much to Tikki's apparent surprise, flashed her a smile and held the ring up confidently. "That's exactly why you're going to pick the next cat, Tikki."
Tikki blanked, dropping the chocolate chip in shock. "Wh—me?" Her voice squeaked. "Why me?"
Marinette would be lying if she said that she didn't find some amusement in Tikki's befuddlement. With a bit of effort, she pushed herself up from her seat, setting the ring down on the table and walking towards the sink at the other side of the room. "Because you've been with every ladybug who's ever existed, which means that you've known every ladybug and cat duo that's ever existed." Giving Tikki an expectant look, she added, "If anyone knows what kind of cat I'd need as a partner, it's you."
"But—" Tikki floundered, the thought clearly having never occurred to her. "It's the guardian who has to hand out miraculouses!"
"I won't know the new cat's identity this way," Marinette reminded her, idly tracing her fingertips along the sink's edge. "Sure, it'll be someone we both know, but if I didn't figure out that Adrien is Chat Noir until I tried, then I won't figure out this one either."
Her eyes scanned over the various drawers in her reach and she pulled open one in particular, a small box jerking forward from the momentum. It was the same box that held her ladybug earrings all those months ago, and now it would be the box for the new cat as well.
Holding the box to her chest and silently wishing luck upon it, Marinette returned to her table to see Tikki staring quietly at the ring in thought, apparently still processing what she'd been told. Marinette paid her no mind for the moment, setting the box down and searching various other drawers for a white cloth big enough for the box to be wrapped in. Then, once she'd successfully found one, she laid it out neatly on the table and opened the box to place the ring inside.
The moving of the ring snapped Tikki out of whatever trance she'd been in. She flew up, clinging to Marinette's hand and begging, "Wait! At least tell me what you'd want in a cat!"
Marinette supposed that was a win, since Tikki wasn't outright rejecting the idea and had little argument against it. She dropped the ring inside the box and smiled at the gentle 'click' it made when she closed it, then turned to address Tikki. The nervousness on display made a modicum of sense when considering that kwami were supposed to obey the guardian, so being told to do what they wanted was probably a little strange.
Marinette just took it in stride. She leaned against her chair as she considered her ideal cat, having been so used to Chat Noir that she needed a minute to imagine someone who really matched her.
"Thoughtful," she answered, nearly blurting the word out when it finally came to her. "Someone who thinks the way I do so I'm not doing everything myself. They can be selfless, but they have to have limits, and with good instincts so they won't throw themselves in front of me." Her expression growing fond at the idea of such a partner, she took the cloth and wrapped the box in it, sealing it with a strong knot as she added, "And... they have to be understanding, where I can cover for them and they can cover for me and we'll just—click."
She snapped her fingers for effect, watching as Tikki flew over to the wrapped-up box and tested it to ensure it was safe to carry. While she was tugging at the knot to confirm it was tight enough, Marinette stood and headed up the stairs to her bed, opening the way to her balcony so Tikki had a way out.
By the time Marinette peeked over the bed to check on Tikki, Tikki had already taken hold of the cloth and flew up to be eye level with her, the box being a noticeable yet manageable weight. Marinette moved to the side, allowing the straight-faced Tikki to go past her and go up to the balcony.
Thinking that Tikki had already gone, Marinette was about to close the trapdoor when she heard a soft, "Marinette?"
Her head turned to see Tikki, hovering above the little table with the box still held in her paws. She seemed conflicted, like she was struggling to find words, but eventually settled on, "You're a great guardian."
And with that, she left, Marinette blinking in surprise for a moment before a smile formed on her face. She closed the way to her balcony, then slipped back down the stairs to start getting ready for bed.
At the same time she'd be settling in to sleep that night, her tiny Miracle Box would be set down delicately in the Liberty, specifically on Luka Couffaine’s amp.
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takamishinko · 3 years
Note
could I pls request the bakusquad with a close FTM friend . their friend is pretty insecure about his chest . he’s also insecure about what people would think of him being trans . how would the bakusquad react if someone Mineta said something nasty to him ? if you’re uncomfortable w/ this request , feel free to ignore it , I don’t want to make you uncomfortable
have a wonderful day / noon / night 💞
sure u can! hope u have a wonderful day/noon/night too :)
perfect
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a/n: this is my writing content for ftm readers i hope i don't offend anyone!
pronouns: he/him, ftm!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of pre-transition, transphobic phrases, sexual harassment, and mineta
_____
you were pretty close friends with the whole bakusquad, close enough to the point where they would not hesitate to throw hands if someone messed with you. they know about your situation and they completely accept you for it. 
they all took the news better than you expected. mina was super excited when you first came out to her and even though she had a big mouth she kept yours a secret because she knew how important this was to you, plus you might have not been comfortable about others knowing about it yet. sero was super chill about it and kirishima called you manly right after you came out to him. kaminari on the other hand was having an internal war with himself since he thought you were both pretty and handsome before and after. last but not least, bakugou hit you with a "ha? i don’t care as long as you’re still strong." after you told him.
all the reassuring comments your friends gave you made you feel a lot better about yourself. you had also told some of your other friends in the class like midoriya, uraraka, iida, and asui. they all supported you and since class 1A is pretty open about subjects like this you had nothing to worry about. 
however, just because most people have reassured it didn’t mean that you’d just suddenly  feel better right away. in a way you still felt different. you were still insecure about what other people around you would think about you, especially your chest area since your hero costume made them very obvious that they've gone through transition before. harsh comments from insensitive bastards still scar your mind deeply. their hurtful words pierced through your heart and mind.
"you'll never be a real boy."
"you're not normal." 
words like this break you down bit by bit and destroy your self esteem until you're left feeling worthless and defeated. people like this played a big role in why you never confided anyone in your secret. you feared that they would repeat these words, especially your dear classmates.
after school,  sero, kaminari, kirishima, and bakugou had left to do some training while you, mina, and some other people had stayed behind to help clean up and chill in the classroom. it was a nice way to ease yourself. mina was cheerful and funny teasing uraraka about deku, while you and tsuyu were chattering about the test that you took and guessing what mark you both received. 
you decided to stay behind a little in class after everyone returned to the dorms. you hummed while watching the sunset. it was a good environment to do some studying in, quiet and peaceful, seeing as there was an important test coming up.
you were just about to start packing up after finishing the last question on the review page until you saw a short purple figure pop up next to the door. it was mineta, the class pervert that everyone tried to stay away from. you didn't like mineta obviously, no one did. you didn’t exactly want to talk to him but you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and assumed he wasn’t here to be grotesque.
why was he just standing there eyeing you up and down? an uncomfortable pricking sensation washed over you so while packing up, you decided to speak to break the awkward silence. "hello mineta, can i help you?" 
mineta wore a smug look before the corner of his lips lifted into a snide grin.
"hey~ d/nnn." he mocked, holding the last letter of your previous name.
what..?
your heart fell into your stomach at his words. why the hell was he bringing up your deadname? you balled your shaking fists and tried to calm down before you mauled the smug grape with your quirk.
"it's y/n, and if you don't have anything to say i wanna go back to the dorms." you speak with feigned courtesy as you finished backing up, scooting out of your chair.
"alright alright y/n whatever. say~ what are you doing by yourself all alone in the classroom at this time. perhaps you were waiting for someone?" mineta sing-songed while walking closer to you.
"i was just trying to get some homework finished,” you grit out. “do you mind moving? i would like to leave-" 
before you could even finish your sentence you see drool coming out of minetas mouth and his hands doing the signature grabby grabby while his eyes practically drowned in your chest area.
"you’ve probably got a nice pair of boobs huh? even if they’re flat." 
mineta mentioning that certain body part broke you. the tears immediately started to accumulate under your eyes, on the edge of spilling. you could've easily pushed mineta away due to how much smaller he was than you, but you didn't have the strength to. you felt even weaker than him and didn't have the will to fight back, your limbs being reduced to jelly. you felt helpless.
mineta on the other hand felt powerful, someone like you with a strong quirk being reduced to something akin to a quivering rabbit gave him a sick sense of pleasure. just when mineta was about to place his hands on you a certain spiky haired blonde rushed into the room and lifted mineta away from you.
"OI SMALL FRY! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOUR HANDS GOING HUH??" bakugou snarled at the midget followed with a strong blast.
kirishima, kaminari, and sero quickly ran into the room. mr. aizawa followed up upon hearing the commotion. his eyes scanned over your distressed form before looking over at a shaken mineta. he assessed the situation and let out a sigh, hands pinching the bridge of his nose.
"mineta, my office, right now." he spoke, voice lacking any sort of amusement.
"b-but" mineta stuttered out.
"now."
mineta froze at the tone of mr. aizawa's voice and left the room with him, his head down. before aizawa left he gave you an apologetic look and told you he'd come back later to talk to you. kaminari followed them out to listen in.
kirishima grabbed your arm gently and sat you down on the chair. "y/n you okay man? he didn't touch you anywhere right?" he questioned worriedly.
"i’m gonna turn that guy into a cocoon, i swear." sero followed up.
you were incredibly surprised at what just almost happened. you almost got harassed by a midget grape but thank goodness your friends were there to save you from him.
"thanks guys." you muttered out while wiping away stray tears.
"of course man! we're always here for you, bakugou heard mineta all the way from across the hall when we came back to grab our stuff and immediately rushed over! you should've seen him, it was like he was running for his life!" kirishima said, chuckling. 
bakugou rolled his eyes. "shut up shitty hair, he's in need, of course i’m gonna sprint over. if he ever says that shit to you again, i’ll beat that little fucker up again. 
"well you won't have to worry about that anymore because i went to eavesdrop and mr. aizawa said he’s under house arrest for a long time for attempting to sexually harass a classmate." denki’s cheery voice rings out as he walks into the classroom while pointing finger guns at all of you. 
your eyes lit up from hearing the good news.
"hey y/n if anyone messes with you be sure to let us know ok?" sero smiles as he puts a hand on your shoulder.
"you're like a brother to us and we won't hesitate to fight anyone who dares to do something like what mineta just did." kirishima spoke, grinning.
"you're perfect just the way you are y/n, and we love you for that! who the hell cares about what others think of you. just be yourself and everyone else will love ya." denki followed up with a smirk.
"dunce face is right, don't worry ‘bout anyone else, not even us if you don't want to. if you're still feeling down i can blast dunce face if you want." bakugou said while chuckling evilly. 
the room filled with laughter at kaminari’s protests.  thanked your friends for being there for you. you couldn't have asked for a better friend group than them. after a while, the five of you walk back to the dorms. you smile to yourself while the other four bicker and laugh, you wished to live in this moment forever.
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aminiatureworld · 3 years
Text
Distance
Characters: Childe, Kaeya, gn!reader
Word Count: 4,280
Warnings: Swearing
Premise: What other explanation could there be? Surely this is the one logical answer. Even if it hurts, even if it doesn’t make sense.
In which the reader’s s/o assumes the reader is no longer interested.
Author’s Note: This prompt is really fun to write so far but I feel terrible torturing the poor characters like this. Oops.
Childe
The warm wind tickled Childe’s hair, causing the Harbinger to bat a few orange strands out of his face, eyes still pinned on the harbor that was fast approaching. The balmy breeze of Liyue was refreshing – a reminder of all the things he had been missing on his long-drawn-out trip. Now Childe leaned against the railing of the ship, eager to touch land, unable to contain the excitement he felt at the knowledge of what was awaiting him upon the dock.
Though he didn’t like to admit it this trip had been a particularly harrowing one, not just for Childe but for you as well. The post was notoriously touch-and-go across the Seven nations, especially with the deep snows whirling into Snezhnaya this time of year. The fact that he was gone almost a month certainly didn’t help. If he had to admit it Childe had found himself worrying about the time more than usual, worried how it might affect you. Now he was eager to push all those thoughts away, to once more find himself next to you, all well with the world. As the crew bustled around him to prepare the junk for docking the Harbinger took a deep breath in. There was nothing to worry about. Soon all would be well.
The empty dock was a jarring sight. Though saying it was devoid of people wouldn’t technically be accurate, business was going on as usual after all, to Childe it might as well have been a ghost town. Stumbling slightly, suddenly unsure of where to go, Childe climbed up the ramp awkwardly. Finding no one waiting for him on the stone pier as well, anxiety began to coil in Childe’s stomach. Had something happened? Ignoring the thoughts that flurried through his mind he quickly wove his way through the streets of Liyue. Though the city was bustling as always, laughter and shouting echoing through the air as people haggled and joked and went about their business, Childe found himself disconnected from his surroundings. His only thought was to find you, hopefully safe and sound and happy to see him.
There was no sign of anything wrong as Childe approached the door to your shared apartment. Sighing softly he dug around in his pack for the keys. You’d probably just fallen asleep, having recently taken up the habit of afternoon naps, according to your letters. Childe couldn’t really complain if that were the case, after all rest was important and you could hardly be blamed for not being aware of the time while conked out. Yes, surely you were asleep. Then Childe could give you the surprise of waking next to him. A smirk graced Childe’s lips at the thought of it, and as he turned the key in the lock he reassured himself. There was nothing to be worried about.
Unfortunately the Harbinger’s genius hypothesis had proven to be a false one. A quick scouring of the apartment revealed that you were not there, and no signs of any abnormal activity could be found as an explanation. Anxiety seeping into Childe’s mind he barely set down his pack before bolting out of the door, trying somewhat unconvincingly to keep his pace to a fast walk. Had something happened to you? Surely not! Childe knew you, knew that you could very well take care of yourself. He shouldn’t worry.
Still the thought passed through his head, combined with an even more unpleasant one. Had you simply forgotten about him? What if you didn’t care? Shaking his head the Harbinger took in a deep breath. He was overthinking things, still stuck in the mindset of a Harbinger. Not everything in life was a battle, hadn’t you told him that many times, teasing his constant need to see an obstacle to beat somewhere? He really should take your advice more seriously, at least in this case. Slowly down slightly Childe walked to the city center. He was sure his answer would be here; and that it would be so mundane as to not bother a second thought.
His pulse jumped in his throat as you finally entered his field of vision. You were sitting around with a few people, coworkers if the Guild crest and weaponry didn’t serve him wrong, chatting and smiling and overall having a wonderful time. Emotions stirred through Childe, the urge to run up to you, to stalk away, to find the nearest fountain and jump into it; but he stayed put, staring at your laughing face, pain flashing in his chest. He supposed he should’ve felt angry, felt like he’d been stood up. Instead all he felt was sadness, sadness and guilt.
Finally turning around Childe plodded back down the street, steps slow and sluggish. What did he expect really, for you to wait around for him forever? How was that fair? There was no reason you shouldn’t grow sick of waiting, shouldn’t want more out of your life. You were perfectly within your rights to want such a thing. Yet the pain continued, spreading throughout his chest until Childe felt like his lungs were on fire and his throat was crumpled in a fist of his own making.
Arriving back at the apartment a supernatural urge seemed to seize the Harbinger. Pack, he needed to pack. He wouldn’t burden you anymore, wouldn’t continue to strain your emotions by hanging around like a phantom. Luckily Childe wasn’t the kind of person to own a lot of things. Not that you really were either, between the both of you purchases mainly went into gifts for each other rather than personal buys. Childe now stood looking down at some of the things you’d bought or made for him. Scarves, books, a stuffed animal that had reminded you of his Delusion; all of these things lay peacefully on the shelf, giving the books behind them a slightly trapped looked. It was so homey and so comforting that Childe found tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.
Wiping his eyes roughly the Harbinger collapsed onto the couch. What was he doing? Part of him wondered if he shouldn’t just wait for you to come home, wait and see where you two really were. But it seemed unfair to do that. After all, what kind of sleazy person left their partner for a month then begged for their love and attention right after coming home? It was completely within your rights to want more, hadn’t Childe already made that clear to himself? And yet it hurt, it hurt so much. How had he managed to mess this all up, to let the thing most precious to him fall out of his hands? He had been so careless.
Giving himself up to his emotions Childe let the pooling tears stream down his cheeks. Suddenly everything seemed so very heavy. Closing his eyes for a moment Childe sighed. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes before returning to his packing. Yet the familiar comfort of the couch beckoned to him, and soon fatigue overwhelmed him, dragging him down into the realm of sleep. Thankfully, he dreamt of nothing.
“Childe what are you doing?!”
Lurching up Childe glanced around wildly, hands automatically moving to summon his weapon. For a few seconds he found himself utterly confused, unable to comprehend where he was or what was going on. Soon enough however, the situation came crashing back to him and the Harbinger lowered his weapon. Glancing up at you he braced himself for whatever was going to happen next.
Well you certainly seemed upset, though not exactly in the way Childe might have expected. Instead of anger there seemed something more akin to panic in your eyes, and the red patches on your face certainly pointed to distress more than anything else.
“Is something wrong?”
“Is something wrong, you tell me that!” You took in a few erratic breaths, but your tone remained panicky. “Why are you packing? Do you have another trip? Why are you leaving?”
“I, I thought that it would be easier if I just left.” Childe lowered his head, unable to look you in the eyes. “I figured that I would spare you the pain of having to kick me out yourself.”
“Why in Teyvat would I kick you out?” You sat down on the couch next to Childe, and he could feel your eyes piercing through him. “What’s going on?”
“I didn’t see you at the docks when I returned.” Childe paused, gathering his thoughts. “At first I thought that you’d just fallen asleep or something but you weren’t home. And when I saw you out with your friends, well it made me realize how distant I’ve really been; physically, emotionally, everything. I realized that, and I realized that you deserved better, that I hadn’t been doing enough. I realized that you deserve more, deserve a partner who will always be there for you, who you won’t always have to be waiting for.”
“Oh Ajax.” You whispered softly.
Raising his head Childe could see no relief in your expression. Instead sadness was plainly plastered upon your face. Reaching out your hands you let Childe slump against you, carding your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder.
“I’m sorry my darling, I thought you were coming back tomorrow. That’s why I was out. I would never think such a thing as abandoning you,” you spoke softly, tone achingly soft, “I mean it. Our relationship isn’t conventional, that’s true; but I would never trade it for anything. I would never think that you weren’t giving enough, I know how hard you work and how much you put into everything you know. Believe me Ajax, I don’t begrudge you any distance, I’ve never lacked love from you.”
“But what if one day you want something more,” Childe couldn’t help but ask, “what if one day letters aren’t enough? What if one day, what if one day I’m not enough?”
“I promise that will never happen,” you let out a soft sigh, “really Ajax you hold yourself too cheaply. You shouldn’t underestimate yourself, or underestimate me for that matter. You will always be enough for me. There will never be a day I want anything or anyone different, and if need be I will remind you of that every. single. day.”
Punctuation the last three words with kisses to Childe’s head you smiled as he titled his face up to gaze into yours. Though the panic had evaporated from you there was still sadness, and for a moment Childe felt guilt wash over him, guilt that he had caused you so many trials and that he hadn’t even had the courage to face you about it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Although I do appreciate you understanding that almost stealing out into the night nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Not my brightest moment.” Childe admitted.
“Perhaps not,” you laughed, “I mean really, you’d think that it was the second act of a tragedy or something, and not one I’d like to participate in.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize! Just don’t do it again, or next time I’ll get genuinely angry, and then you won’t get off the hook so easily.”
Childe pressed his lips to yours, another unspoken apology. Though you let out a small huff of impatience you nevertheless leaned into the kiss, smiling against his lips as you let your hands drift from his hair to his shoulders.
That night Childe lay awake, listening to the soft cadence of your breath, indulging in the feeling of peace that lay over him. Though he knew that his worries and insecurities would never truly leave him, Childe nonetheless felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe one days his fears would come true, maybe one day this life wouldn’t be enough. But “ifs” and “maybes” weren’t guarantees, and until that day happened Childe would cherish the time he spent with you.
Besides, Childe trusted no one as much as he trusted you. If you said that such a day would never come to pass, then surely you were right.
  Kaeya
You were working late again.
Kaeya supposed that it shouldn’t have bothered him, but then again he also supposed that almost anyone would feel somewhat uneasy if their colleague and partner was suddenly avoiding them like the plague.
Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much in Kaeya’s mind. Of course, if this were some sort of habit then he would hardly mind; but after months of making it a tradition to always walk home together, well, safe to say the whole thing didn’t sit well. Nor was it simply a matter of you staying to work late, even the days where you finished earlier than him it seemed that you were always dashing off somewhere, leaving him painfully out of the loop.
Now Kaeya stood across the room from you, fingers drumming on his arm, face carefully hiding the irritation and concern that rose up inside him, threatening to spill over.
“I’m really sorry Kaeya!” Your tone was sincere, and the apology in your eyes seemed genuine enough. “It’s just that Jean asked me to look over the ledgers for the infantry. You know the captain is out this week, but Jean didn’t want to have to owe the City and the soldiers in terms of late funds. I promise it won’t take that long, I’ll be done as fast as I can.”
“Why don’t I help you with it?” Kaeya could feel the sarcasm sweetening his tone, attempted to rein it in he stared at you silently.
“You’ve been working so hard, I wouldn’t want to bother you with extra work.”
“It wouldn’t be a bother at all. Anything for my dear partner.”
“Really, it’s fine!” You twisted your hands, a nervous habit that Kaeya had long ago picked up on. “I’ll be done in time for dinner. And then we can the new recipe you’ve been telling me about; okay?”
“Very well.”
“Thanks for understanding!”
Though you seemed happy enough by the proposition Kaeya noticed how fast your head moved to the papers on your desk. Closing the door behind him he heard you let out a loud sigh. Clenching his hands, as if to remind himself that he was still in a semi-public setting, Kaeya stalked out of the Knight’s Headquarters. The thoughts in his head felt like static, and he worried that if he remained still for one more moment it would swallow him up.
Walking the streets of Mondstadt, Kaeya tried to reflect back upon the past few weeks. Had he done something wrong? Wracking his brain for any serious disputes Kaeya came up frustratingly emptyhanded. If you had fought over something this whole debacle would be one thing. Kaeya had a temper of his own, and petty acts of anger was something he admittedly struggled with often enough. He could hardly fault you if you acted in a similar way, or at least not without admitting to his own faults.
And yet nothing had happened, nothing that might cause such a dispute. Clenching his hands one more, aware that his knuckles must’ve been bone white, Kaeya let his thoughts drift to darker waters. What if you were just sick of him? It was certainly plausible, or at least Kaeya thought so. It would certainly explain why you now seemed to be avoiding him like the plague outside of work.
The thought hurt, as it might well do, but surprisingly most of the pain didn’t come from the idea itself, but from the idea that you wouldn’t tell him such a thing. You falling out of love with Kaeya would be been incredibly painful. You not trusting him enough to the point you were simply avoiding him, well the thought was enough to knock the wind out of him. Did you really think so ill of him? The idea filled Kaeya with smoldering rage and indignation – fueled in no little part by the fact that Kaeya ultimately might agree with you. Usually thoughts like those were the kinds you hated, the kinds you chased away with a stick, assuring Kaeya that no matter his past decisions he was still worthwhile. But you weren’t here now, and those dark thoughts were now kindling for the fire that burned in Kaeya’s mind.
By the time he’d reached the apartment Kaeya was almost sure of his hypothesis. Though a small part of his brain reminded him that he was working of a diet of sleep deprivation and anger, such logical thinking was easy enough to shrug off. After all, the signs were there. You were evidently getting quite sick of him, it was hardly Kaeya’s fault that he caught on.
Throwing his equipment on the floor, not bothering to even put his sword up on its stand, the Cavalry Captain walked towards the kitchen. What he needed was drink, maybe even two. Really if it were up to him he’d spend the next hour or so getting as drunk as possible before passing out in the tub. Thankfully though his reason hadn’t completely left him, and Kaeya managed to limit himself to two and a half glasses of cider. He needed to be at least on the side of sober for the conversation that was bound to pass once you came home after all.
The lateness of the hour in which you arrived felt like a personal insult, though really it was only 21:00 or so.
“Kaeya?” You called out, whipping the Cavalry Captain out of his thoughts.
Stepping into the kitchen the grin on your face was a stark contrast to the emotions that swirled in Kaeya’s mind. Hands clasped behind your back you stood in the doorframe as if expecting something. You’d probably be in for a nasty surprise. Kaeya smiled sweetly at you, words burning in his mouth, mixing with the alcohol. This was a bad idea.
“How was the paperwork?”
“The paperwork? Oh! It was boring enough I suppose. I kept getting distracted though, I really should’ve had you there, you could’ve kept me from nodding off.”
“I’m sure I would have. Tell me something my dear, I have a question that’s been burning in my mind.”
“Yes?”
“Tell me why it is that out lovely Acting Grandmaster asked you to go over the ledgers when I was assigned to that exact thing yesterday?”
Ignoring the blotches of red that immediately spread across your cheeks Kaeya stood up. Carefully going to clean the glass he’d been using he stared into the sink, not trusting himself to look at you. If he did all the words he wanted to say would fly out at once, and something that probably shouldn’t be said with them.
“Did she ask you that? How odd! She must’ve wanted a second pair of eyes or something, I guess.”
“Are my eyes not good enough?”
“Kaeya, you know I wasn’t insulting your work.” A sort of shocked irritation ran through your voice. “You’re the best knight in Mondstadt after all.”
“Oh really? Well if you think so highly of me then why have you been avoiding me so much?”
“I haven’t been avoiding you.”
“Then let me ask a different question; when was the last time we walked home together?”
“I don’t know, a week and a half ago?”
“Try two and a half.” Kaeya finally turned around, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not avoiding you!” Indignation shot through your words as you shook your head. “I’m just busy recently.”
“Busy with made up work.”
“It’s not made up!”
“Oh really, then tell me what was your work last night?”
“I had to oil the bow strings for my regiment.”
“They couldn’t do it themselves according to protocol?”
“Not the new recruits they couldn’t!”
“Then what about the day before?”
“Kaeya!” You finally burst out. “I don’t know why you’re so quick to find fault with me right now! Just tell me what you’re getting at, if you’re going to insult me you might as well do it head on.”
A part of him admired you for wanting to look at the problem right in the face, another part of him thought of how well you knew him, how attuned you were to his moods. Just as he had figured out that you were avoiding him, so could you tell that his jabs were a misdirection. It was almost funny really, seeing the things you both had picked up about one another now used at the end.
“Fine.” Kaeya crossed his arms, hoping his expression was at least somewhat neutral. “It seems obvious to me that you’ve been avoiding me, and that you no longer want my company. What I am getting at is the fact that you want to break up, and that you evidently trust me so little with that fact that the only solution you’ve come up with is to avoid me.”
Your face went slack with shock, pupils turning to pinpricks as you stumbled backwards. Finally letting your arms fall to your sides you grabbed the side of the doorframe, as if unable to process what he just come out of your partner’s mouth.
“What?”
“Do you really trust me so little?” Kaeya pressed on, feeling his emotions begin to spill over. “Am I really so untrustworthy that you can’t even tell me you want to end things? Am I, am I really that untrustworthy?”
Everything seemed to be going all wrong. Kaeya had expected you to immediately fess up, had expected guilt and relief and then the end. Instead all he got was incredulous silence, incredulous silence and a look that screamed utter and total disbelief.
“Do you really think that I would do that to you?”
The question was a simple enough one, one that anyone might ask during a conversation of this nature. Still your tone was so dispassionate that Kaeya couldn’t help but pause. Did he really think that you would do such a thing? His anger certainly thought so, helped a great deal by his current buzzed state. All that aside however, did he really think that? When he woke up tomorrow, would these thoughts still be swirling through his head, these angry thoughts that threatened to burn through his happiness.
“I don’t know.” It was the best answer he could give.
“Then why would you accuse me of something you weren’t even sure of?”
“I…”
“Kaeya have you really thought so little about what you just told me?”
He almost wanted to apologize for how stupid his words seemed in retrospect.
“Would it help you if I told you where I actually was?”
Your voice was still quiet, but not entirely closed. Nodding stiffly Kaeya felt his fingers still.
“Very well. You were right about one thing, I wasn’t actually checking the ledgers for Jean; and I wasn’t oiling bowstrings all day either, I mean our troops should know how to do that at least. But you made one mistake in your judgement Kaeya, the idea that I was avoiding you. In truth I was gathering materials, I wanted to make a new sword for you. Your current one is so brittle and since I know you don’t want to use the sword you were given as an heirloom, well I thought that I wouldn’t wait for your current one to break and that your new one would be a present.”
“…I see.”
It was all Kaeya could get out; how else could he reply? Shame and guilt mingled within his mind, quickly dousing any anger that he might’ve felt. He really fucked up this one didn’t he. He let his emotions slip once more and now he had made a fool of himself. More than that he had refused to trust you, had ended up doing the exact thing he had just accused you of. Now what was there to do? He couldn’t exactly slink away with his dignity; even if he had managed to retain that, there weren’t many places to go.
“I’m sorry.”
“What?”
Kaeya jerked his head up from the spot he’d been examining on the floor, confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. You stared into his eyes, shrugging slightly.
“I said I’m sorry. I’m sorry Kaeya, I should’ve come up with a better method. I didn’t mean to make you worried, or to make you feel like I wanted to no longer associate with you. Believe me that’s the last thing I want to do. So I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.”
“I was the one who accused you of all those things that weren’t true.”
“You did. I’m not very happy about that to be honest; you’re going to be doing some serious penance for the next week. I just figured that before that I would apologize. Then we could be even. Okay?”
Reaching out your hand Kaeya finally noticed what you’d been hiding. The windwheel aster was slightly limp, the breeze that gave it its beauty nowhere to be found. Nevertheless it seemed at the moment the most beautiful flower in the world. Walking over to you Kaeya tentatively took the flower in his hand. Smiling softly he leaned down to kiss you.
“I’m sorry.”
Tomorrow he’d start making it up to you. Tomorrow he wouldn’t listen to his demons, wouldn’t let his own lack of self-worth hurt you. Tomorrow he would do better by you and more. Today he would say sorry.
After all, he had plenty of time.
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imagineslashers · 3 years
Text
First Words Soulmate AU
okay so i love this au, and i’m not sure if it’ve done it before, but i’m doing it now so enjoy! essentially, the first words you ever speak to your soulmate are imprinted on you somewhere and same for them, if you aren’t familiar with this au! x
WARNING for violence and death and swearing!
also sorry this is long yikes-
Jason
To be perfectly honest, you had lost all hope of ever meeting your soulmate, if going only by the words on your wrist - or rather, the lack of words. All you have imprinted on your skin is a dash, a wobbly line, and nothing else. From day one, you had merely accepted the fact that your soulmate was likely dead, or going to die, before you’d ever have the chance to meet them.
Your trip to an old camping ground was purely as an escape, to break away from all your friends who were happily in love and all met their soulmates. It was overwhelming, the joy they were suffocating your lonely self with, so you needed to get away.
Hiking through the cool afternoon air, your heart lays heavy in your chest, proving that even distance and ignorance can’t shield you from the pain. Anxiously, your fingers rub at your exposed wrist, and the crooked line across it. An owl hoots in the distant treetops, reminding you of your isolation.
You pause, taking a minute to breathe in deeply, stretching your sore muscles, and peering at the glimpse of the lake through the distant tree trunks. A slight sound distracts you, a brief snapping of a twig, and all the birds stop singing. A deer, perhaps? Your head turns slowly, taking in the surroundings. Even the insects seem to be holding their breath, the forest blanketed by a harsh silence.
The hairs stand up on the back of your neck and you exhale shakily, deciding to push on and try to reach a clearing where you may feel less trapped. It doesn’t help. The more steps you take, the more aware you become of the sensation, constantly looking over your shoulder. 
When your nerves are entirely fried, the sudden flight of a startled crow sends you into a fully fledged panic, bolting through the trees. The quiet snapping of twigs becomes a heavy thudding, trembling the ground and you no longer waste time by looking back, powering through the forest.
There’s a looming shadow that falls over you and your voice escapes in a shriek, realising the inevitable. You’re not fast enough. The world spins as your shirt is grabbed, yanking you backwards and throwing you off your feet. Rolling across the dirt for a few seconds, you’re finally stopped staring up at the hulking masked figure. There’s a machete in his left hand, and a shred of your shirt in his right. He steps over you, feet either side of your hips and pulls back his arm.
You instinctively lift your hands to defend yourself, turning your head away and gasping for breath. “P-please!” You whimper, heart racing like a hummingbird. “Please don’t!”
He freezes, pulls back, and blinks at you from behind his mask. After a few painfully slow moments, he rotates his arm holding the machete, and you’re able to glimpse three words inscribed down his arm. They’re the words you spoke.
It all clicks and you realise he doesn’t, or can’t, speak. You shakily lift your wrist to show him your mark. He appears bewildered, stunned at the thought of having a real soulmate as much as you, then finally extends a wary hand. You take it.
Bubba
The road trip was a stupid idea, you said that from the start. However, you had been dragged along by your friends to celebrate a few milestones in your lives, and so succumbed to their pleading. Now, you sit rigidly in the back of their car, waiting anxiously. How long does it take to pay for fuel?
Your mind is racing, it’s been nearly half an hour and you haven’t heard anything. You elected to stay behind to keep an eye on the car while they went inside to get snacks, but that shouldn’t take too long, right?
A light flickers in the back of the old gas station, and with it the sound of a machine, perhaps a chainsaw or similar tool. You try to shrug it off. It’s a dilapidated country station, they’re probably fixing something or working at the back.
However, you can’t ignore the screaming, or the sudden bursting open of the door. Your friend’s boyfriend comes streaking out, face ashen, bolting past you. You lean out of the window, eyes wide, calling his name but he ignores you. A whoosh of air rushes past your head and an axe lands squarely in the back of his head. You scream, jerking yourself back into the car before kicking the door open and almost falling out. 
You don’t have the keys, but running is obviously pointless. Instead, you bolt for the gas station, hoping to find a phone or a weapon or something! You don’t make it that far before the axe thrower steps out into the light, breathing heavily. He’s hard to make out, but you recognise the bloody apron and odd looking mask as immediately a threat, if you hadn’t already witnessed what he’d just done.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
Shocked by his appearance, you find your feet are sluggish and unresponsive. He notices you but doesn’t charge, instead making cautious steps towards you, dragging a large chainsaw. He mumbles something, just a string of sounds, as if trying to soothe you like an injured deer. It takes hearing more screaming for you to start stepping backwards quickly, unwilling to take your eyes off of him. Your back thuds into something solid and your hair is twisted into an iron grip, making you cry out.
“Got ‘em! Hurry up and finish it so we can go home already.” The man behind you reeks of blood and sweat, his accent almost masking his words. The one with the chainsaw makes a muffled noise of distress, closing the distance between you and shoves the one holding you backwards, releasing the grip on your hair.
“The hell, Bubba?” He growls, but the much taller male hisses, grabbing your arm and pulling you back with him. This captor, Bubba, starts desperately pulling up his pant leg, seemingly having forgotten where his mark is, but finally twists around to see the back of his calf. Your words in shaky handwriting are scrawled across his flesh.
Shocked, you pull down your shirt and try to inspect the nonsensical letters along your collarbone. Bubba makes a slight squeal, pulling you against his chest, delighted to finally have his soulmate! Still in shock, you allow him to lead you to their truck, your heart swelling but your head spinning. Oh well, not like you have much choice anyway!
Freddy
Bad dream would probably be an understatement, that’s what you think as you find yourself sprinting painfully slowly through a boiler room, steam burning your skin as you pass. Laughter rings out, bouncing off the walls and startling you. Bitterness creeps into your heart, a sour taste in your mouth as you try not to fall into the sick games you know are going to begin.
“Where are you, you prick?!” You yell, hands balled into fists, stomping your foot for effect. You’re terrified, naturally, but not going to die looking like a wimp or giving him the satisfaction. You know all about him from the teens in your neighbourhood.
Freddy comes bounding around a corner, looking expectantly gleeful and sadistic, his gloved hand dragging along the wall. His face breaks into a grin, but you recognise the flash of panic in his face, which confuses you all the more. Why would he be scared?
You step back, ready to throw yourself into a fight or flight, but he just looks at you dumbly, huffing, amusement fading. “What did you say?” Something clicks in his mind and he stalks towards you. “Say it again.”
You’re ready to tell him where he can shove his request when you understand the significance of his words. His first words to you. 
“Oh, shit, no way!” Your words leave you a breathless rush and it makes him laugh. He’s so badly burnt that your words have been essentially destroyed from his wrist, but he’d never forget what they said. You carefully roll up your shorts and expose the slanted writing wrapped around your thigh. Freddy looks a little stunned, and annoyed, but he finally sighs dramatically in defeat.
“Okay, guess you’re mine then, baby!” He resigns himself to it like a child having to do chores, grabbing your hand in his exposed one, pulling you with him.
Michael
Halloween is arguably one of the best holidays, but you don’t agree with that statement anymore as you’re creeping through the dark streets, trying not to be noticed. The news headlines were that the killer was on a streak, getting more creative with every victim, and you’re determined not to be the next one.
Unfortunately, you live in his neighbourhood, so you didn’t have any options when the television at your work lit up with a warning to stay home. And your car broke down, so you’re now stuck walking home, jumping at the sound of every meow and car horn. Pulling your coat tighter around your frame, you hurry down the street, passing under a streetlamp which illuminates your white knuckles wrapped tightly around your bag.
There’s a siren in the distance and that assures you, just a little, that perhaps the killer is being brought down right now. With that in mind, you let out a breath which escapes you in a puff of smoke in the cold air. Clinging tightly to your reassurances, you speed up a little, having reached your street. Relief washes through you, as well as embarrassment at how terrified you’d been.
You chuckle to yourself, rounding the corner to your house when you see him. A huge black shadow, stepping out from the neighbouring house, his knife stained crimson. You both stand in silence, staring at one another, before you decide to try your luck at running. 
You turn around and sprint the way you’d come, biting your lip so hard it draws blood. Your breath comes in short puffs as your body is pushed beyond the limits. He may have the advantage of being quicker, but you know this area. Ducking down an alleyway, you launch yourself onto a wooden fence, scrambling to get over. You’re just about to when a cold hand wraps around your ankle and yanks you back down.
The force of it knocks the wind from your lungs as you lay on your back, gasping. The stranger crouches over you, pressing the tip of his blade to the hollow of your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut. “Just do it!” You manage to force out.
The blade pulls away and you risk peeking one eye open to see the white mask. Your killer is shocked, looking almost like a stone figure, unable to move or breathe. He never wanted a soulmate, didn’t believe in it, but now you’re laying under him and he can’t kill you.
Angrily, he slams his fist into the concrete by your head and you flinch, eyes wide open now as he stares back at you. There’s a quiet word he mutters, just loud enough for you to catch it. “Fuck.”
You barely have time to question him, recognising that one word from the one that’s imprinted on your shoulder blade, before he’s hauling you up and carrying you off bridal style, one hand still tightly clutching his knife.
Beetlejuice
The motel room is kinda dingy- well, it’s very dingy if you’re honest, but you’re so exhausted you can’t bring yourself to do more than collapse on the bed. You’d been travelling for a few days on your way to a new town to start up your new career, passing through this idyllic little town. It’s cute, very homey, but the motel is pretty old.
Whatever, you just need to sleep. Rolling onto your stomach, you pull out your phone and check your messages. The television starts playing. Sitting up, you strain your ears but hear only some corny romance film. Rolling your eyes, you decide that you’re leaving as soon as the sun rises, but begrudgingly force yourself to walk into the living area to turn off the television.
Once you do, you put the remote on the coffee table, making sure it can’t fall or turn itself on again. Turning around, you start walking back to the bed when it turns on, louder this time. Your brows furrow in annoyance as you return and turn it off, smacking the side of the set for good measure. 
After staring at the black screen for a few seconds, you decide it’s done being irritating and once again try to walk back to bed. You’ve just collapsed on your side when it turns on again.
Gritting your teeth, you rub your eyes and contemplate how much effort it would be to walk back to reception to ask for a new room. You’ve just decided on getting up when you feel the bed dip behind you, fingertips tracing your arm. Your heart nearly bursts in terror.
“You don’t like this movie?” The words come out dripping in sarcasm and amusement from the stranger behind you. Immediately, your body reacts defensively and you leap from the bed, whirling around to punch the intruder. He yelps in surprise, hand over his nose.
“You asshole! Get out of my room!” You yell, barely able to contain your emotions, completely glazing over the realisation that those words are on your lower back. However, the intruder does notice and sits up excitably, eyeing you like a prize. You’re not sure where to look first, the green hair or the dirty striped suit.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting to find you in a motel room, but hey, can’t complain!” He grins, his expression resembling that of a wolf. He pops the buttons on his shirt and you’re stuck standing in confusion as you read back the words you just yelled at him, imprinted on his collar.
“No.” You point at him, then the door. “Not happening. Go away and come back at a decent hour.” He laughs, but then realises you’re serious, whining as he pulls himself from the bed. 
“You’re mean. I like it. See you in the morning!” He disappears in a hazy cloud of purple smoke, leaving you coughing and wondering if you hallucinated.
Billy & Stu
School sucks. Not only because of the obvious; preppy kids, bullies, annoying teachers, homework. No, you’re annoyed because everyone is falling madly in love with their soulmates, throwing it in your face. You’re a freak to most, because you don’t have your soulmate mark. You have two.
Wearing long sleeves is how you conceal it, but everyone knows you’re different, the rumours started as soon as you walked in the door. Irritable, you resign yourself to having to deal with not only the first day at a new shitty school, but also being the object of much taunting on said first day.
You manage to sail through most of your classes by ignoring everyone else, but by lunch time, you can’t avoid it. Your feet carry you to an empty table where you hope to just have a quiet meal. That, of course, can never happen for you.
Two rather imposing looking teens slink over to you, and you recognise them as the school’s bad boys, popular kids if a little weird, Billy and Stu. You look down and continue picking at a sandwich, hoping that if you pretend they don’t exist, they’ll do the same for you and move onto someone else.
Once again, that doesn’t happen for you. “Hello, gorgeous.” Billy sits in the seat next to you and Stu sidles up on the opposite one, both of them grinning. “Why are you sat alone, baby?” Stu purrs. You’ve had enough of being taunted today and you stand up, causing your chair to scream in protest against the tacky floors.
“Can everyone just leave me the hell alone?” You scowl, grabbing your bag and missing the look that the boys exchange in surprise. Billy nods, and Stu grabs your arm. 
“Hey!” You try to pull it back, but Billy takes your other one and they both pull up your sleeves. Sure enough, the words they just greeted you with are on your arms, one of each. Your cheeks burn with humiliation, and relief, at finding your soulmates.
Stu lets go first, practically bouncing on the spot as he lifts his shirt to show you what you said written angrily across his ribs. Billy’s next, he has the same words but wrapped around his ankle.
You’re in a state of shock when they coax you back into your seat, one hanging one each of your arms. There’s no way you’re getting away now, especially not with the way they’re looking at you like you’re their favourite toy.
The Man
The night was finally quietening down when you decided to sit on the porch for a bit, a hot drink cupped in your hands, listening to the crickets.
Your decision to live in a wooded area is probably one of the best you’ve made, or at least that’s what you believe as you enjoy the blissful peace of your surroundings. Blowing on your drink, you almost don’t notice the figure in the corner of your eye.
Expecting one of the neighbours checking in about something, you aren’t immediately alarmed, sitting up a bit straighter to try and make them out in the shadows. The stranger doesn’t speak, so neither do you, but the longer you both stare at one another, the worse the feeling in your gut becomes. Something isn’t quite right.
You’ve just decided to go back inside when he starts approaching. Coming nearer to your porch lights, you can finally see that he’s wearing a mask, and across his back he’s carrying a crossbow. Adrenaline shoots into your veins and you leap up, your mug smashing. The display of alertness doesn’t concern him, he continues approaching at a leisurely pace, dragging his hand across the side of your car as he comes up the driveway.
You walk backwards to the front door, making sure you can keep him in your sights at all times, your hand fumbling for the handle. He waves at you, and you sense he’s smiling under his mask, judging by the delighted, predatorial glint in his eyes. You simply scowl in response, attempting to hide the way your body trembles as you finally get the door open and jump backwards, slamming it shut.
He leaps up the porch steps and stands outside the door, his shadow spilling in from under the door. You step back, holding your breath. The shadow retreats with the sound of boots, leaving you frozen to the spot listening for him.
The silence becomes so painful that when he finally does make a noise, it startles you. Tracking it down, you find him stood outside your kitchen by the large window, head tilted as he peers inside at you, still jovial and content to be terrifying you. 
Unwilling to show him your fear any further, you point at the alarm system, indicating you can set it off to alert authorities. Yelling to be heard through the glass, your words get his attention easily.
“You better leave, or I’m going to make sure they haul your sorry ass to prison!”
He steps back, much to your surprise, and then lifts his mask. You’re taken aback by his face - attractive - and don’t notice him pulling up his hoodie. There in cursive along his hip is your handwriting, and the threat you just gave him. His face breaks out into a grin as he jumps back to his position right up against the glass.
“Show me yours!” His voice is elevated by his delight and you step away, warily lifting your arm to reveal his demand written along your outer forearm. Like a kid given candy, he knocks excitably against the glass. “Let me in! You’re so mine!”
The Blissfield Butcher
What a shitty day. You missed the bus trying to get home from work, and then it started raining. By the time you’d made it to the next operating bus stop, your clothes had been successfully drenched, leaving you shivering under the meagre shelter provided.
Cursing your boss for lecturing you and in turn making you late to leave, you hug your arms around yourself. A ping goes off from your pocket, then another, and another, until you give up on trying to warm yourself and fish around in your pockets to find the source. Your phone lights up your face in the darkness. An amber alert prompts all residents to stay home if they can, following a string of murders.
You exhale sharply, trying to centre your thoughts on anything other than the anxiety creeping into the back of your mind. Your gaze lifts from the screen and is immediately drawn to a passing shadow, which halts the second you look at it. Unsure if you’re seeing things, you put your phone away and squint through the rain, attempting to distinguish whether it’s someone you know.
Likely just a passer-by, you resume huddling under the shelter. The shadow moves away, and your anxiety with it. However, you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. After a few minutes, the shadow reappears and you realise it’s circling you from a distance. The reality sets in and you curse, chancing up your options. Glancing over your shoulder, you can see your workplace still lit up a few blocks down. You could run there, but you’re not sure how fast the figure is.
When you tear your eyes away from your distant workplace, you realise that looking away had been a mistake, the shadow significantly closer and now more obviously a male. A very tall male, in a mask. You curse under your breath and decide to risk it, your aching legs once again forced into action. The bitterly cold rain makes running harder, and it’s worse trying to see where you’re going as it starts to come down heavier, masking the sounds of your stalker.
You shoot a quick look over your shoulder, your heart jumping at how close he is, within reaching distance. Your mind makes a quick decision and you jerk to the side so his grab misses you, whilst you run down another street onto a local sports field, now dark and silent.
The wet grass clings to your feet, slowing you down, but you don’t have time to reflect on this mistake because your shoved from behind. The force of your momentum and the power behind the shove sends you skidding on your front, grazing your cheek. 
He’s on you before you can blink, pushing you onto your back, straddling your hips. His eyes are wild behind the mask as he uses one hand to keep your shoulder down, the other gripping a butcher’s knife. Your efforts at squirming are denied by his sheer weight and the force of his thighs trapping your lower half. Seeing no other option, you start to panic and gasp, the rain still soaking you both.
“Wait, please, don’t!” Your tears mix into the rain as your hands desperately push against him, one accidentally knocking his mask off. He’s distracted by this and you continue, your hands instead lowering to protect your face. “I know a lot of cops, I-I-” the excuse tumbles from your mouth, but cuts off when you notice the black writing on his neck. “Oh.” Your voice is reduced to a whimper, reading back what you’ve said to him.
He sighs, stabbing the grass and sitting back, looking at you expectantly. “Um, are you not going to kill me?” You curse the way your words shake as you look up at him. The ghost of a smile touches his lips and he grips your wrist, pulling you up. He doesn’t stop there, throwing you over his shoulder and stooping to pick up his knife. “I’m not gonna kill what’s mine.” He growls the words, sending a chill through you as those familiar words are etched onto your arm.
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fangirlsmood · 3 years
Text
Tomioka Giyuu x reader - inferiority complex
Summary : Noticing how Giyuu doesn't know his own worth, you try to remedy his inferiority complex.
Warnings : Spoilers about Giyuu’s past.
author notes : Seeing our little Giyuu blame and put himself down breaks my heart, it's time for someone to comfort him and tell him what an amazing person he is.
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_ Tomioka-san ! 
Hearing your voice, Giyuu stopped in his walk and turned to you, nodding his head to greet you. You noticed that he was holding a bunch of papers, probably a mission report he had to return to Oyakata-sama.
_ You’re already back ! After filing your report, would you accept ...
_ No.
_ But...
You've been begging him for a while to train you. He had saved you a few months ago from a demon and since then you had only one wish: to become like him. You were infinitely grateful to him and you were so admiring. Not really knowing how to fight but wanting to be useful you had started to help at the Butturfly estate. However you wanted to do more, you wanted to save people before they could get hurt like Giyuu had done for you.
_ Ask another person.
_ Kocho-san is already taking care of Kanao, Rengoku of his little brother ... Everyone else is too busy to spend time with me. I want you to train me... please.
He looked you straight in the eye for a moment then sighed, unable to resist your perseverence :
_ Fine. I will train you but don't expect me to be a good teacher.
Since that day Giyuu trained you every time he return from a mission. You couldn't be happier. The training was difficult, tiring and sometimes painful but for you it was an honor. Even if he didn’t said it Giyuu was proud to see your progress. Besides, it was nice for him to have company. 
•••••••••••
One day, at the end of a hashira meeting, Rengoku came to approach him.
_ Tomioka ! We don't see much anymore (Y/n) at the Butterfly estate. I heard that you train her.
 He nodded, Rengoku let out one of his loud laughs :
_ It's surprising ! I had offered to train her but she had refused. Is she doing well?
_ She’s not bad.
It was surprising indeed. You told him that no one was available to train you and he learned it was a lie. Why had you been lying to him? He didn't understand what you could gain from it.
••••••••••
That night he found you serving dinner for both of you like you did almost every day since you had become his student. 
_ Welcome home ! How was the meeting ?
_ Good.
His gaze immediately made you uncomfortable. Usually he always gave you a warm look, while now he was looking at you coldly, as if he had difficulty recognizing you. He took a seat in front of you and began to eat. After a heavy silence which weighed on him as well as on you, he decided to speak :
_ Why did you lie to me ?
You did not remember having committed such an act against him. Seeing your confused stare he developed his point :
_ Rengoku told me he offered to train you. Why did you tell me that no one has time for you ?
You didn't think he would find out someday. Nothing in his attitude or his voice let show anger but you knew he was necessarily upset. Giyuu was a man of his word and honor, for him a lie was a lack of respect. You were terribly ashamed, however, you manage to stammer an explanation :
_ Oh ! It’s not what you think ! In fact it is but... I mean I didn’t really thought about it... Believe me it was far from my intentions to disrespect you, I would have never offended you on purpose ! I just... I just wanted to be trained by you.
_ Rengoku is a really good and strong man. You should have accepted his proposal. 
He marked a pause.
_ Go back to him, if you ask him I think his offer still stands.
Was Giyuu denying you? Did he no longer want you as a student? He got up and turned his back to you as if to end this discussion but you got up in turn, you wanted to stay by his side: 
_ I don’t want anyone else to train me ! 
_ It would be better for you.  He will be able to take care of you and make you evolve. 
Suddenly you realized what was going on. Giyuu thought Rengoku was a better hashira than him. Didn't he know how strong he was too? You stood in front of him so you could look him in the eye, so he would know you weren't lying :
_ You’re strong too. And you’re a good professor. 
_ You don’t know what you’re talking about. I am stronger than you that’s all. 
_ You’re a hashira ! You’re one of the strongest !
He lowered his head you saw in his eyes, him who was usually so impassive, a hint of sadness.
_ I don't deserve this title. I shouldn't be there.
_ What do you mean ? 
You noticed that his hands tightened on his haori.The words struggled out of his throat, as if part of him wanted to hold them back while another wanted to get them out :
_  Those who owned the two parts of this haorie should be there, they should be alive. Them, not me.
It was the first time Giyuu had talked about his past. You kept silent, you didn't want to rush him. You just wanted to understand him, reassure him, make him feel surrounded. 
_ (Y/n)... I know you admire me and it's nice to have someone so dedicated by my side but you don't know everything. You idealize me. I am not a strong. I am not a good person.
One of his hand clenched the red part of his haorie :
_ I wasn’t strong enough to protect my sister...
His other hand clenched on the other part :
_ I shouldn't have passed the Demon Slayer exam ... Sabito should have, he was much stronger, much better in everything, but he protected me and it cost him his life.
You were speechless. Knowing that Giyuu, who was so generous, strong and usually impassive, had suffered so much broke your heart. You wanted to cry for him but you knew it would only cause drama. You will cry another day, now you needed to cheer up your beloved master.
_ Rengoku will know how to protect you, you will be safe with him. 
••••••••••
The next morning Giyuu couldn't find you anywhere. He assumed you had chosen to join Rengoku. He was sure it was the best option and it suited him for the moment. He felt ridiculous for confiding in you last night, and was too embarrassed to see you again. Nevertheless he had become so used to your presence that he already missed you. Part of him regretted telling you to leave. 
Fortunately you came back little less than a month after your departure and with a surprise. You ran to him yelling a "tomioka-san" as a greeting before handing him a package. A little taken aback he examined it for a moment. Impatient you pressed him a little : 
_   It's a gift for you! Open it !
He followed your instructions and found a nice little bundle of papers taht were of different sizes and different colors. The writings and the ink used were also diverse. You started to explain nervously :
_ I wanted you to know how amazing you are, so I asked the hashira, your old master and a few of the people you saved to write down what they liked about you or what you had did good for them ... Oyakata-sama and Gyomei-san could’nt write but they dictated to me and I transcribed everything ... I didn't think it would take so long to contact everyone, sorry ... 
He had already started to read. Everyone had written something even Obanai, Sanemi and Shinobu had found a few nice things to say. Shinobu had recounted a mission accomplished with Giyuu and admitted that without him it would have been a failure while Obanai and Sanemi were content to write a single sentence where they said that Giyuu was not "that bad" and that "some of these techniques were quite impressive". Urokodaki gently reprimand him so that he would stop always blaming himself and telling him that he was proud of him. 
And finally there was your letter. It was the longest and as he read it he wanted to cry with joy. He wondered what he had done to deserve so much praise, he wanted to deny all these compliments but you had written a real reasoning full of examples to support your words that he was obliged to recognize his qualities. 
He felt his heart melt. it must have taken so much effort from you to collect all these little words, it was a real treasure that you had just offered him. You watched him silently in his reading which lasted a long time and since he didn't say anything you wondered if it was really a good idea :
_ Erm... Do you like it ? It's okay if you don't, but keep them anyway. That way you could always reread them when you needed to ... you know ... know how amazing you are.
A smile covered his face and you noticed that his eyes were bright like a child who discovers the world. His smile was so faint you might not have noticed though it was the sweetest you've ever seen. 
_ Thank you. It's the nicest thing anyone's done for me. It must have taken a lot of effort from you to convince Obanai, Sanemi and Kocho and put it all together.
_ You deserve all the effort in the world.
You gave him a huge smile and he believed you. He felt all the weight he had on his heart, all his guilt shut up in the face of all these kind words. For the first time Giyuu told himself not only that he was lucky to have you by his side but also that he deserved to be happy. Every time he read one of the letters he said to himself, although it was still hard for him not to doubt it, that he was worthy. More than feeling worthy, he felt loved.
••••••••••
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sevlgi · 3 years
Text
dawn on
requested: no
group: itzy
pairing: yuna x fem!reader
genre: angst
contents: small town, best friends!au, love requited too late, no happy ending again :)
warnings: none
synopsis: You always realize things too late, but this time, there’s really no going back.
a/n: i actually like this! please don’t request happy endings this time, though.
word count: 1.3k
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“I still don’t know why she put us together.”
“Who, the professor?” Yuna looks up in surprise, her hand pausing at where it’s scribbling something in the margins of her book. 
It’s the fifth time that the two of you have been paired for a project in the same year, and it’s honestly getting suspicious. Twirling your own pen between your fingers, you shrug, “I mean, you’re leaving tomorrow. And I know she used to try to make us get back together, but it isn’t like you have a crush on me anymore.”
“Yes I do.”
She avoids your eyes when you stare up at her in surprise, but still repeats, “I still have a crush n you.”
“But you stopped--”
“Because you just wanted to be friends,” Yuna says, interrupting you. It’s true-- every time she tried to confess to you, which was a lot of times, you just begged her to stay friends. Until both your mindsets seemed to change two months ago. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable... which I think i just failed at,” she sighs.
Your cheeks hotter than summer, you wave your hands in protest. Even you can’t stop the smile creeping onto your cheeks. “No! No, I’m okay. Stay in love with me if you want, I promise I’m fine with it,” you laugh.
“Okay. I will.” Yuna matches your smile, only averting her gaze once you do. 
“I don’t think it’ll make a difference anyway,” you continue, placing your cheek in your hand. “I mean, you’re moving away, to the big city. I’m sure you’ll meet better girls than me, and fall in love with someone. Someone who loves you back.”
The other girl nods slowly, turning her gaze back to her book. Her hair falls over her face in a smooth curtain, hiding her reaction (or lack thereof) from your eyes. “Right. Someone who loves me back.”
“We’ll stay friends though, right? I mean, after all we’ve been through to get here, we should at least keep in touch,” you suggest with your head cocked to a side.
“Mm-hmm. I, uh, I wrote my new address in the letter I left in your house, by the way,” Yuna tells you. “I can’t remember it yet, and I know our cell service here is horrible.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Before you get to ask her anything else, Yuna shoves her book towards you. “So, I was thinking we could do the project on this year. What do you think?”
Without looking at the text, you smile softly. “That sounds nice.”
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The box was left right outside your bedroom door, and you place it on your desk, exhaling softly before gently untying the ribbon. Even the box is your favorite color, and you smile fondly at how much effort Yuna put in her leaving gift.
As soon as you find her address, you’ll write her the letter that you’ve been putting off for months, you decide. It’s long overdue, and far easier to say in writing.
However, the box seems far too large for the contents; all that she put inside was a stack of old photos, and a wrapped little letter.
You choose to flick through the photos first. In such a small town, there’s almost nothing to do, so many of the pictures have repeating backgrounds despite being seasons apart-- however, you remember such a different feeling each time.
The first picture features you with whipped cream dabbed on your nose and smeared on Yuna’s face, your attempt at getting back at her on your birthday. The second is a horribly angled shot of the two of you sprawled on the grass, and the third, the other girl attempting to save you from falling off a borrowed skateboard. Your smile only grows with each picture you place on the desk, a small chuckle occasionally heard when you remember a particularly funny day.
“Y/N,” you read out when it’s time for the letter. It isn’t terribly long-- Yuna never did like hand-writing things-- but you’re sure you’ll treasure it. “By the time you read this, it won’t be too late yet.”
Your brow furrows, but you continue. “You know I love you, but you don’t know how much, or for how long I’ve kept it a secret. To be completely honest, I’ve been in love with you since I met you five years ago, and I’ve never stopped since then. I only told you last year because I thought you could finally love me, but I guess I was wrong.
“You were so angry with me when I said I was leaving, and you only quieted when I told you that it wasn’t for good, and you could always find me. But I lied. I’m not coming back, ever, and you won’t find my new address anywhere in the box.”
At that, you toss the letter aside, emptying the box onto the ground as if that’ll prove Yuna to be lying. The only thing that turns up is a ticket stub, and you scramble for the letter again for answers. You read, “I can’t be friends with you like this. You’re so good to me, and you’re not obligated to do anything else, but I’m selfish, and I’m hurting. I left you part of my train ticket, in case you want to leave with me. I promise I won’t ever guilt you if you don’t.
“I’m sorry for everything, but I’ll always love you. Yuna.”
Your heart is racing when you finally lower the letter, and your eyes stray to the ticket stub. Even now, you aren’t sure if you can leave, but you can’t know until you try.
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You run as fast as you can all the way to Yuna’s spot, but you realize that you’re too late when you find a long line already boarding the bus. “Yuna!” you shout, scanning the too-similar heads for the one you recognize.
The excited expression on her face when she finds you cracks your heart, but it absolutely shatters along with hers when she realizes that there’s no ticket in your hands. “Goodbye, Y/N” is the only thing she says, despite the fact that there’s at least three minutes until she boards.
“No. No, you... please stay, Yuna,” you beg. “I love you.”
“Not like that, you don’t,” she smiles weakly. She’s trying to make it okay that you’re hurting her, but you only feel like sobbing.“It’s okay, Y/N. I don’t guilt y--”
“Yes like that!” you interrupt quickly. It’s the absolute truth, and it shows in the way your hands shake when you reach for her, the way you stumble over your words while you search for the ones to make her stay. “Please, Yuna, I really love you. And I need you here with me. Stay.”
Yuna shakes her head. “It’s too late, Y/N. Even if you really do love me...” She bites her lip, a tear slipping down her face. “I have to leave.”
“Then... Leave me your address. I’ll come for you when I can,” you plead.
“I haven’t found a place to live yet,” the other girl reveals. “I’ll get one when I can--”
“Then stay!” It comes out as a scream, drawing attention from the people around you, but you don’t see them. All you see is the girl before you-- or rather, all you see is the girl before you slipping away into nothing. “I’ll pay for the next ride out, but I need you to give me something.”
Yuna seems to want to tell you something, but her hands are already sliding out of yours, her body pushed forward by the other passengers. “I’m sorry,” she manages to get out. “I love you. So much.”
And you’re left there, alone, with only a crumpled ticket stub already fading with the sweat beading on your palms. You’ve lost the one person you really loved, and the one person who really loved you-- and there’s no way to get her back anymore. 
It’s too late.
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harfanfare · 3 years
Text
Snow White and Juliet
trigger warning: suicide and just whatever happened in Romeo and Juliet & Snow White but darker.
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People tend to define different things with the same word.
According to some, the lack of life is simply death. Others include there people who do nothing but work. They have no love, no passion. Those who remain unmoved by the suffering of others. Heartless ones.
For one poison vendor, "lifeless" meant being unable to move, drink, eat, but think. Think for eternity about nothing, what is described harsher than real death.
◆◆◆
„Test 103 was accomplished with success.”
There is confusion in the experiment hall. Researchers run from monitor to monitor, all comparing unexpected, but desired results.
No errors in documentation. No lapses in research. No difference in subsequent attempts.
The team of researchers was cheering in awe: the antidote for one of the biggest poisons in Twisted Wonderland, the "Poisoned Apple", has been found.
It's time to wake Neige Leblanche up.
◆◆◆
The Leblanche Tragedy happened almost two years ago when many haters got to harras Neige and his fiancée, [Name], who just announced their relationship. You were meeting already for quite a time, and knowing each other even longer. It wasn't easy to break any of you by hate.
But it wasn't also easy to live with people, who despised you with all their heart.
"It's alright," Neige whispered, his fingers combing the hair of his beloved. His voice was tranquil and soothing as always, almost by itself vanishing every bad experience. "It will be alright. I will make sure it will be."
"I know. And I am always thankful for that," you replied, cuddling him even more. Neige scent was another thing that hadn't changed over years; it was still the same aroma of wild, but soft flowers and heartwarming sunrays. Another wonderful feature. "I love you, Neige."
"I love you too."
That was the last discussion you had before the disaster happened.
And it started from no one else than Vil Schoenheit, who wasn't even aware how his actions will take a completely another turn than everyone expected.
◆◆◆
"Will it solve it? The sleeping potion?" you asked, turning the vial in your hands. It was no bigger than your little finger, and the potion there was taking only half of the space.
Not so long ago, around an hour, you found yourself invited by Vil to a tea party. You couldn't figure if he had been struck by your "help me" aura or was searching for a company, but you ended up in gardens, staring at the porcelain pot in which the tea was brewing.
It favoured the first meeting you two had: the tableware with the same, old-fashioned flowery pattern and the rich aroma of tea leaves of Vil's choice. Only a plate with sweets and fruits was something new—it was hard to convince Vil to bring anything sugary and even harder to make him try it. He finally ate a small (microscopical, in your opinion) piece of hand-made shortcake, but that was all you could do to let him appreciate the sweet energy shot.
"I cannot guarantee anything," Vil replied, watching you examine the bottle's content. "But it may work. With an emphasis on 'may'," he added, tearing his gaze away. Vil was your dear friend, and even if he didn't approve of your taste in men, especially your pick for a future husband, you were close enough to have him help you come up with a solution. "Use it as a last resort. I... am sure you will be able to find a better, safer way. For example, dumping your fiancé."
You giggled, but both of you knew his proposition was impossible. You could never leave Neige.
"Thank you, no thank you," you answered with a smile. The only thing that didn't let it last longer, were your problems. "Again, I am indebted to you. Thank you for being the best and the best prettiest in my life."
Vil puts the tea away, its taste suddenly feeling bitter and hard to swallow.
"...Well then. [Name], don't be reckless."
"I will try my best not to. I promise."
◆◆◆
You found a solution.
If you were the reason which made people attack Neige on social media and not only, why wouldn't you just disappear?
Not for eternity. Only for a month, maybe a few weeks, until the turmoil would silence. You and Neige could get married this way, inviting no one else than the closest of the closest people for the ceremony. Announcing your marriage and fake death wouldn't be that much of a shock as many could assume. There is a field called effective business, and everything can happen under that name.
I know how reckless is that, you were writing your thoughts on a paper. Once the dwarfs you invited to yourself saw the letter, they would give it to Neige. And you two would no longer have anyone who could undo anything. But think about it, Neige! If we may finally be together, isn't it a great chance?
You reassured him in the letter that you would wake up after few days. You also highlighted that he doesn't have to use your plan and let you two fight against the darker side of Wonderland together. He could just let you have week-long beauty sleep and with a fresh mind, try to solve your problems by less drastic measures: the press or announcements.
Maybe you were only overthinking and complicating the situation too much.
Your most loving fan, [Name]
You signed yourself and closed the envelope.
Your gaze returned to the sleeping potion. I am exaggerating, you thought. Your plans could fit into a script of a good film but in real life? What you were about to do felt... irrational and foolish.
Maybe you would change your mind if not the rush.
Once you heard footsteps on the floor and your friends, dwarfs, calling your name, you knew it is time to make a decision.
You quickly unscrewed the bottle and put it in your mouth. The sweet, sleepy fragrance with a hint of rosemary sent you to a sleep that devotedly resembled a death. The crash and sound of breaking glass as you fell to the ground immediately alerted everyone in the mansion. You couldn't hear the accelerated footsteps, screams, cries and commotion that was going on over you.
Before anyone could think to do something other than trying to wake you up and calling the hospital, the letter with your plan flew outside the window.
That night you broke two things: the promise you made to Vil and a heart of Neige.
◆◆◆
The death of [Name], the fiancée of the most adored man in the world.
Marriage cancelled? The mystery behind the death of [Name] [Surname].
A Dead bride.
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎
Neige scrolled through the media, each article made his heart ache. He ignored a great count of calls and didn't manage to appear at your funeral in time.
He was a broken toy, who just lost its batteries. He was a wrack of what he was before. Beautiful on the outside, blank on the inside.
Wearing a dark, a bit too oversized suit, he laid against one of the roadside trees. He closed his eyes, trying not to focus on any people, buildings or sounds except his breath. It was slow and steady until he remembered why he tries to calm down; then he would choke on his breath, tears falling from his eyes and trying to not lose balance.
"Would you like an apple?"
Neige wiped his tears in a sleeve and slowly turned around to see an old lady behind a stall. It was ruined and seemed unattended for years. The counter was doty, wood softened and tore off in big pieces by the wind and rain. Between beautifully decorated shops and cafes, this stall seemed to be a remnant that no one ever wanted to touch.
"Thank you, but I am fine." Neige replied in his polite tone, but the smile he sent her looked like nothing near 'fine'. "I am not allowed to take anything from strangers, but that is really kind of you!"
"Not just a bite?" the lady continued, putting an apple on the counter. It was brown, slightly green, and Neige would never guess it was an apple. Maybe more like a rotten apple, but no one would say that this apple was unfresh. Adversely, it contained freshness, but not of the common kind. "Wouldn't you like to join your lover?"
Neige held his breath.
"You mean... to die?"
"What I mean has no value. You will understand it the other way, even if I tried to explain," she replied. Her voice was squeaky as she repeated the question the same enigmatic way she did the first time. "So, would you like an apple?"
"No, thank you..." Neige bowed slightly. He hesitated, before trying his best to speak up. "I- I think [Name] would hate me dying. Only if she could understand this too..."
"Maybe she did" the lady replied. There was conviction in her voice, and Neige couldn't help but take her words seriously. "Or maybe not."
Neige hoped you did. How he loved you and how your death changed him from the happiest man in the world, the saddest one. He didn't know why you took your life and why he didn't notice anything before. He regretted spending not as much time with you as he wanted to.
But nothing could be done to change the past.
"I will get going," Neige said. He glanced towards the old lady, who smiled at him and showed some of her lacking teeth. "And... could you fetch me this apple, please?"
◆◆◆
Once Neige's gaze settled on your figure, the world was immediately forgotten.
He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears much more than silence who was your only companion.
No flowers, candles and golden ornaments of the church could divide Neige's attention, as his pace fastened with every step he made towards you. He didn't hesitate to lock his fingers with yours. He squeezed them, wishing his warmth could reach you.
"[Name]..." he whispered, getting his face closer to your sleeping face. He gently removed the lost strands of hair from your face, not believing that you won't wake up anymore. As much as he wanted to, no mage in Twisted Wonderland could bring the dead back to life. At least not in human's form. "I love you so much. T-too much, I think. How can I live without... my life?"
He gave you one last 'farewell' kiss on the lips, his body next to yours. "See you soon, [Name]."
His expression is the softest one he ever wore, as he reaches for an apple.
He bit it.
And then 'died'.
No sooner than the poison completely took control of his body, you woke up.
"Neige...?" you murmured, bringing your hand to his cheek. The anxiety mingled with your thoughts once you look around yourself. "We are... in a coffin?" You sat. It required effort, after not using muscles for a whole week. By the time, you took a break, you conjectured what happened. You jerked your head around and let your hands cup your lover's face. "Ple-please, please, Neige, don't do this to me. Please."
He didn't respond and the bitterness you tasted when you kissed his still warm lips confirmed that he didn't use Vil's potion. He was poisoned, and the amount left on his lips wasn't enough to take you to the same place as him. "Why didn't left anything for me? Neige..."
Your eye caught the glimmer. You went closer to notice the dagger, resting on the floor. It wasn't that visible as the weapon would be, and until you were a step from it, you could see how thin the blade was. As edge as sturdy.
The fear paralyzed you, as you came back to the coffin. But the remorse and the sight of your lover's dead body were stronger. Your whole body was shivering, a tremor affecting you more than you could ever imagine, making you go mad. Insane.
With one sharp move, you dug the blade into your chest, scared and closing your eyes.
"I am a fool."
By the time anyone arrives, it is too late to rescue you or stop the poison coursing through Neige's veins.
◆◆◆
In the morning sun rises, and everyone in Wonderland wakes up.
It is also the first time in two years since Neige fell asleep.
He can't feel anything. He can't sense the flaxen shirt the doctors changed him in. He can't get his mind through the haze, that has been floating around his thoughts just after he drank the poison. He can't answer the calls of the doctors and his friends, dwarfs, who are gathering around his bed.
But he can open his eyes.
And once he does, the silence is overcoming. When the fact finally sinks in everyone's heart, a great cheer flies across the room. Some of the gathered give Neige comforting touch or reassuringly squeeze his hand.
It takes him some time to realize what is happening, why is he in the hospital room, why people are crying around him and why you aren't the first one he sees once he wakes up. His habit of kicking you while sleeping was something you complained and teased him about. Even if he didn't wake you in his sleep, when he was getting up, his knee would always hit your arm or stomach, waking you up and having you buck him off the bed as revenge.
What he also can do, except for trying to stay awake and catching things his visitors chatter around him, is to try to remember. He didn't lose his memories! It just needs some effort to get them back from the darkest recesses of his mind! And then to regret it.
A whole wave of memories hits him like a tsunami, not leaving him space to breathe and see anything else than chaos, now replaced by the memories of you two.
The kisses. The promises. The vowes. The proposal. The struggles. The tenacity to get over your problems. The plan. The dead body of yours.
He doesn't have to turn around to know that you aren't in a hospital bed beside him. He remembered some of the talks of his friends when he was sleeping. Now everyone is waiting for him to return.
"Neige! You've finally woke up, huh!" Che'nya chippers, his voice cracking at last words. He is relieved about the news and only bad Neige's condition stops him from throwing himself at his arms and spreading the revelation to everyone... No, not even Neige himself can stop him from the latter.
Neige wasn't going to stop him. His mind still replayed the "finally woke up" part, as if the film stopped at the most painful scene, then broke and started to replay the scene once again. And again.
He turned his head on the side, letting the tears run down his cheeks.
He really can't feel anything.
"That," Neige manages to whisper under his breath. It is the first time he tries to say anything, and grievously struggles to put his words together. "is- is... so cruel." Everyone stared at him in silence, the same way they did when Neige and his dead lover were found. His cry brings tears to everyone's eyes, having many people bow under the weight of sorrow and put a hand over their lips to not let themself break again. "I didn't want to wake up..!"
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ohnopoe · 3 years
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no goodbyes | remus lupin
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Ship: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: Leaving Hogwarts and his position as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was hard enough, but leaving you was another thing all together Word Count: 1.7k+ Warnings: Self deprecation, a shitty world, and a surprisingly light amount of angst Author’s Note: Gender not specified/gender neutral. This turned out cuter than I expected tbh... This is for the wonderful wednesday writing challenge that @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape​ organise! The prompt is linked here because spoilers!
There was something bittersweet about returning home for Remus Lupin.
His family home was small and cramped, but soft and warm, filled with reminders of those who were no longer there. Family, friends, it seemed nothing truly lasted in his life, and that only felt more true as he returned now, before the end of term, before he had intended.
Another job lost to his condition.
Somehow the sting of it didn't cut as deep anymore, but then he'd been dealing with the same prejudice for over twenty-five years now, perhaps he was just getting used to it, he thought with a somewhat amused scoff.
He could understand the letters that had swarmed the school the morning the truth had been revealed, he could understand the fear the student's parents had at the thought of him teaching their children. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt.
And yet, that wasn't anywhere near the most painful part of leaving.
Harry had been disappointed, hell, he looked near heartbroken to see his favourite professor was packing up after all they had gone through in the past few days. And he understood the pain, he really did. The boy had no connection to his parents, and just as he had found two, both were stripped from him.
He would have to try and stay in contact with him, just as soon as he was able to track down Sirius, that is.
Sirius...
The man he had believed capable of betrayal for so many years.
The man he had once called brother, and now- what was he now? Could they go back to the friendship they once had after so much distrust? He could only hope so.
Perhaps there was some good to come from this year after all.
But the moment that thought filled his mind, another face filled his mind.
He had never expected to meet a kindred spirit when he took on the job. He had been determined to keep somewhat to himself, to do his job and make no waves. He hadn't expected you.
The laughter and joy, the late nights that had started out with marking homework together and soon dissolved into simply enjoying one another's company. There was an ease with you that he could not remember ever feeling before.
Even when there was no time, there was still something.
It had started so simply. A book was lent, a note slipped into it. Thoughts shared on a scrap of paper as it was returned.
It soon turned into a pattern.
Books were found with the purpose of being for the other, as you each excitedly awaited the day they would find it back to their gifter's desk, with a simple note which would hint at a long conversation that would come whenever they found the chance.
It was such a soft and gentle thing, and it was yours. 
And then there was the moment, only hours earlier, when you had walked into his office, with his book in hand. Your smile refused to meet your eyes, eyes that seemed to hint at a torrent of emotions that were pulled back. There was so much to say, so much he wished he could say, but how could he?
The truth was out, and it didn't matter that you had been there at his side regardless of the fact you had known from the moment he started working by your side. It didn't matter that you had been there the day after every moon, chocolate and pain potions in your bag as you simply sat with him, reading to him when he wanted company, or working silently at his desk when he needed to rest.
It wasn't just about your beliefs now.
Even if, by some miracle, you felt the same way he did, the world would never allow it. You would receive all the hell and prejudice that he needed to protect you from. His love could never be enough to make up for a world of hate. Could it?
He had held back, trying to appear as though his heart wasn't breaking as he realised this was the end.
There would be no more soft conversations or raucous laughter, no more working together as you each complained about the illegible handwriting of student's work.
This would be the last time you entered his office, as this would be the last time it would be his office. 
And the book in your hands, his book, would be the last one passed between you.
There was a sadness in your gaze as you looked him up and down, taking in each new mark with the same concern you showed every month, and it stole any words from his mind. How could he find something to say when someone as wonderful as you stood before him?
Your mouth had barely opened before a noise startled you both from behind. His classroom room was pushed open in a hurry, and he glanced down at the open map before him to confirm his suspicions. Harry was not about to let him leave that easily either.
Another broken smile filled your features as you turned away from the doorway to face him once more, and then you were walking forwards.
He felt as though he had been hit with the strongest of stunning spells as he simply watched, unable to convince his legs to move, or his arms to wrap you up and hold you against him as he longed to do. No, he simply watched silently as you placed the book down on his desk with a tenderness that seemed to cut through him.
And when your eyes met his, there was so much there, so much hidden in silence, that he never got a chance to explore.
Harry was at the door, and you were retreating already.
He wanted to follow, trapped in your aura, desperate to never leave you. But Harry needed this too, and as you turned to give him a single nod, he did his best to reconcile that this was the only goodbye he would get from the one he loved in secret.
Funny how he hadn't thought to look at the book after that. 
It had gone into his bag almost automatically as he spoke with the desperate boy, but even his subconscious had him holding it carefully, as if somehow he could retain your touch through the book itself.
Now, as he stood with bags in hand in the small cottage of his childhood, it was as though nothing were more important than finding that book and clinging to it.
Clothing and nick nacks were pushed aside as he searched the bag for the precious item, and he sighed with relief as the feel of familiar worn leather touched his skin.
A book on herbology, of all things. 
He hadn't even realised he had it before you had found it upon his shelves, and raised it with a tilted head, silently asking if you could borrow it.
Herbology was never a strength of his, and it turned out you were similarly lacking in talent in that department, yet you had taken it with a smile, soft and gentle. A smile that had him realising he would do anything to ensure that smile existed all the more often.
Now, the odd book seemed to be more important than any other, even if it still made little sense to him.
He couldn't help but treasure it as he ran a hand over the cover, staring at it in wonder.
Had you enjoyed it? Had you found it just as confusing as he had?
Now he would never get the chance to discuss it with you, your meetings abruptly ending with the sudden termination of his position.
He couldn't help but wonder, had you left a note in this book? Perhaps something small, a jest about the author's name fitting the topic suspiciously well.
It was with a certain trepidation that he opened the front cover.
What if there was nothing to be found? What if you had decided that after everything that had happened, you didn't even want to do this? What if that was why you had not said goodbye?
No. He was placed in Gryffindor for a reason, and opening a book was not going to be the thing that stopped him in his tracks.
The cover fell open, and he held his breath as he took in the small post-it note that sat right there, with your familiar script staring back at him.
It was a short note, shorter than most, but even the sight of that had him smiling to himself.
If you want to know my thoughts, you're going to have to meet me at The Leaky Cauldron for lunch the day after school lets out.
I'll understand if you don't want to
x
The huff of laughter that escaped him almost surprised him. But then, he should have known better than to doubt you. You had made it clear from the start that his condition wasn't something that would ever scare you off, going so far as to threaten him with a hex should he ever imply it again.
He should have known better, should have had faith in you.
Perhaps losing his job wasn't the end of everything, perhaps this was just another chapter in his life, and you would remain a steady character, if he would be lucky enough to keep you as a friend.
The note would be treasured, he knew that even now as he unstuck it from the front page, careful not to crease the proof of your unyielding loyalty.
But as he lifted it he noticed something else.
Light shone through the thin paper from the warmth of the fireplace, hinting at more dark ink on the other side.
There, in a slightly more shaky handwriting, but one that was undeniably still yours, held another message.
P.S. I never told you, but I was falling in love.
For the first time in a long time, Remus Lupin felt excited for the school holidays. The end of term could not come fast enough. After all, he had to discuss some notes shared in a book.
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Note
Hey 👋
How are you?
Could I please request a king Arthur prompt when he first starts courting his partner but originally they cant stand him like they think hes too cocky but he worms his way into their heart 🥰
Pairing: King Arthur x F! Reader
Warnings: 18 + for language, a little angst.
Masterlist 
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The Queen 
“Arthur, you could have any girl in the entire realm at your fingertips; why did you have to choose this one?” Wet Stick sighs, watching from under his cloak and cursing his friend for his taste in women. “He couldn’t just pick one of those nice noble ladies; he had to pick a headstrong girl with a chip on her shoulder,” he grumbles to himself. 
You locked up the shop behind you and take off home, turning once to wave into the shadows knowing the knight is there watching. He emerges on a large brown horse, coming to walk beside you. “Good Evening, Sir Tristan; how was your day today?” you smile up at him, and he laughs with a shake of his head. 
“How do you always know where I am, my Lady?” You reach into your knapsack and pull out a warm cheese roll wrapped in cloth, handing it up to him. “Thank you, ma’am,” he unwraps it and takes a large bite, moaning at the taste. “Is this why he wants to marry you? Because of how delicious your baking is? Honestly, if the King weren’t enamored with you, I’d probably ask you myself,” he laughs. 
You groan, pulling your green cloak above your head. “Sir Tristan, how many times must I ask that you call me by my name? I am no lady, just a baker, no one special.” 
“The King would disagree.” You cringe and walk a little faster towards the warmth of your cottage. “He thinks you’re the most beautiful maiden in the entire Kingdom, and Arthur always gets what he wants, and that’s you, my lady.” You stop and glare at him; he holds his hands up in defense using your name. 
“Why would I want that cocky, overbearing brute of a man to marry me? He can go to hell for all I care.” Tristan doesn’t take offense like other knights because he knows how overbearing his friend can be. It’d been amusing to see Arthur fall for the beautiful, headstrong woman. Every flower ended up in the trash, letter burnt, and request for an audience denied. Arthur was close to giving up on courting the woman, but something was holding him back. 
“Have I ever told you what he was like growing up?” You roll your eyes, already dreading the tale that is sure to highlight only the King’s good points. 
“No,” you mumble, “but I’m sure it some heroic tale.” He barks out a laugh, and you stop to watch him, “what’s so funny?” 
“What do you know about the King? Honestly, tell me,” he jumps down from the horse and grabs the reins walking beside you. “Because if that’s your opinion, then you don’t know him at all.” 
You think about all you know about the King and realize with an ache in your belly that you didn’t know much about the King besides the rumors you’d heard. “Well,” you stumble, “he’s arrogant...uhm, he doesn’t care about anyone but himself...and,” you struggle to come up with something else, much to Tristan’s amusement. 
“Arthur was raised in a brothel,” you pause, raising a brow, “I’m telling the truth. When his parents were murdered, he floated down the river in a boat and was found by the prostitutes washing their clothes by the river. They took him in and raised him. He, in turn, grew up and protected them. The brothel was one of the only places in all of Londinium that women were treated with respect. If someone got too handsy with one of the girls, Arthur would beat them within an inch of their life before they’d even think to disrespect a woman like that. Then he’d take all their money and give it to the girl.” 
“He’s also really smart, smarter than the lot of us, at least. He had coffers hidden in the wall of the brothel behind a bookshelf. He dreamed of getting out and buying himself a piece of land, building a home. The girls would all be taken care of and wouldn’t have to be prostitutes anymore. He was damn close too before we found out he was the born King.” You mull over his words and keep walking closer towards your home. 
“How did he feel about becoming the born King?” you ask quietly. 
Tristan smiles, rubbing the snout of his horse affectionately. “He hated it. Didn’t want anything to do with the sword or being King. It wasn’t until he saw his friends being attacked, the Black Legs had us surrounded, outnumbered; there was no way we could win the fight. Arthur begged us to run away, that he was what they wanted, he was ready to die for us. Arthur embraced Excalibur and killed them all, saving us. He’s loyal to a fault that one. Then when Back Lack-” he takes a shuddering breath, and you reach out and rub his arm. 
“If it’s too painful, you don’t have to say.” He wipes at his eyes with his cloak and smiles at you. 
“No, I won’t let his memory fade because it makes me sad to talk about him. Back Lack was our friend, and Vortigern murdered him in front of his son and Arthur. Blue screamed, and I can still hear his wails in my head; Arthur took his son in and has become like a father to him.” You think of the young boy who follows behind the King and smiles. 
You reach the door of your cottage and put your hand on the knob, dropping your head to the door with a sigh. “What does he say about me?” you ask, turning to look at the Knight, “I know he’s must have told you why he is trying so hard to court me.” 
Tristan smiles, seeing the small crack in your cleverly crafted armor. “While you may not know the King at all, he knows everything about you. I dare say he’s in love with you.” 
You search his eyes for any lie and sigh, opening the door and stepping inside. “Wait here for a moment, please,” he nods, and you close the door behind you. Emerging a few moments later in one of your clean dresses and a light blue cloak of fine fabric the King had gifted you, too delicate for you to throw into the trash. “Take me to him, please,” you ask, pulling the cloak over your head. 
“Yes, my lady,” Tristan smiles, mounting his horse and reaching a hand out to pull you up behind him. He rides swift to the looming gates of the palace, and the heavy wooden doors creak as they’re pulled open. The hour is late, and there is only a handful of guards around watching you with a curious expression. You slide off the horse and follow closely behind Tristan as he weaves through the labyrinth of hallways before reaching a large door. He knocks out a combination, and Arthur’s voice comes from inside asking you to enter. 
Tristan stands back and gives your hand a squeeze, “good luck. I promise he’s worth it.” You smile, trembling, and give him a return squeeze. You watch his back retreat and take a deep breath before turning the handle. 
“Did she get home alright, Stick?” You follow his voice, stepping around the chair and looking down at him. He’s writing a letter, the quill moving across the page, a half-full glass of wine on the table to his left. “She didn’t see you, right? You know how much she detests having a guard.” 
“She didn’t make it home okay,” you say quietly, but he jumps anyways, looking up at you with wide eyes. “But she did find her way safely to you, my King.” He rises from his chair and stands tall beside you, gazing into your eyes, and for the first time, you see past the facade of the King he’s created and instead see the man, Arthur. 
“Are you well, my darling?” he asks, cupping your cheek; you close your eyes and lean into his touch. His smile is bright enough to rival the sun, and you smile back at him just as brightly. 
“I learned about you tonight, my King,” he furrows his brow, “Sir Tristan was telling me tales of how you became King.” 
He grins, “And what did he tell you?” He pulls away, pouring a second glass of wine and handing it to you. He takes your hand and leads you over to the roaring fire, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of it. You take a sip of the wine and put down the glass, climbing into his lap and putting your head against his shoulder. His hand comes up to wrap around your waist, keeping you snug to his side, putting down his glass of wine, and putting the other hand in your lap. 
You roll his fingers between your hands, feeling the callouses from years of fighting coarse against your skin. He leans his head against your own, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek. “He told me about you growing up in the brothel, how you protected those women, and their honor. He told me how you begged them to leave when the Black Legs came, and only when your friend’s lives were threatened did you finally wield Excalibur.” 
You sit up and look him deep in the pools of blue that are his eyes, lowering your voice to almost a whisper. “He also told me about Back Lack and Blue. How you’ve become like a father to him,” you trail off, looking down at his hand in your own, “he said you love me.” You look up and catch the storm in his expression, the showers of tears that threaten to fall as he’s reminded of his lost friend. 
You cup his cheek and brush your fingers beneath his eye collected them like diamonds. “He died because of me because I wasn’t able to protect him.” 
“It wasn’t your fault,” you whisper. He takes a shuddery breath, and you hold on to him with both hands, keeping his eyes on you. “You did the best you could; you are raising his son. He wouldn’t blame you for what happened.” 
He tugs you closer, and your foreheads touch, “he would have liked you,” he gives a watery chuckle. “He’d have loved your baking, the way you stand up for yourself, and call me out on my bullshit.” You laugh, and he leans closer, “Tristan was right.” 
“About what?” the ghost of his lips brushes yours, and you gasp at the touch. 
“I love you,” you pull back a little, “I love how strong you are, loyal, fierce, and fucking stunning. You are everything I could ever ask for, and I know I came on too strong. I pushed you away when all I wanted was to hold you close like this. From the moment I saw you, spoke to you, the moment you chucked a rolling pin at my head, I knew.” 
You cringe at one of the more colorful visits you had with the King. “What? What did you know?” 
“That you are much more than a baker.” He nuzzles his nose against your own, and you give a breathless reply, begging him to tell you what you are. His lips touch yours slowly, just barely touching, and your eyes slide closed, moving closer to him when he whispers, “you’re my Queen.” 
Taglist: @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @paintballkid711 @wasicskosgirl @fantasticcopeaglepasta @sarahjkl82-blog @boxdyeblonde @rosiefridayrogersunday @yeah-seems-legit  @mimimi-stuff  @ladyblogger-margie @memyselfandellasworld @peterhollandkait @itspdameronthings @emmy626 @luv-nd-serenity @randomness501  @littlebopper96 @alexmarie29 @hell-is-my-second-home666 @thisshipwillsail316 @madslorian @no-droids-on-sunday @glixxr @sfr99 @pedro-pastel @we-can-be-himbos  @sleep-tight1 @sarhabee @its--fandom--darling @im-an-adult-ish @princess76179 @demoncrypt1066@lunarthoughts @jedi-mando @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @veracruz-djarin @marvelprincess1994 @thirstworldproblemss @spacelatinoss  @martellthemandalor @kesskirata @waatermelon-sugaar @jitterbugs927 @helga1031  @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell
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clairecrive · 3 years
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“Burn” - Bane x reader [Requested]
A/N: this is for this anon. Thanks again for requesting! I missed writing for Bane.
Warnings: angst
Word count: 2.5K
Taglist: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @sopxhiea, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @fuseburner, @kind-wolf, @innerpaperexpertcloud (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)
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The vastity of the night sky had always helped y/n ease her worries. Surely, whatever was bothering her couldn’t be as big and impossible to solve as she was making it out to be. Because, would you look at that? The universe is so big and we’re so small, so insignificant. and that applied to her problems too. 
At least that was what she always told herself whenever she’d feel lost and hopeless. Thinking this way helped her put things into perspective. And sure, not everything was as easily solved but, even in that case, it helped a bit.
And so here they were, she and Bane were laying down staring up at the starry sky. Sometimes, they would spend it in silence, just enjoying the warmth and comfort the other’s body would bring. Others, like this one, they would easily fall into conversations about everything and nothing.
“Was there someone special in your life? Someone you wish to get back to?”
“You mean, romantically?”
He nodded.
“No. Single for life.” She did a peace sign to lighten up her embarrassment but Bane was curious and did not pay it any mind.
“You mean to tell me that you’ve never given your heart to anyone?”
“Well, if you put it that way I have to change my answer to yes. Being in a relationship with someone and giving someone your heart are two wholly different things.”
“Let me rephrase then. Have you ever been in love?”
She really thought about the answer, her mind going back to any romantic involvement she might have had during her life. Even if she scouted her memories, she found that it wasn’t a yes or no question.
“I guess,” not only was the word she chose explicative of her indecision but the tentative tone of her voice left no doubts as to where she was standing. But Bane was confused, to say the least.
“I’ve always been under the impression that love was one of those things where absolute certainty was involved when it came to its presence or absence.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. I have had mostly one-sided crushes, you know?” she started but Bane could see the faraway look in her eyes and knew that she had more to tell but was lacking the right words. So he waited.
“I said ‘I guess’ because I don’t really know what love is. I mean, everyone has a different take on it depending on their experiences but I don’t think I’ve ever felt it,” she paused turning to meet his eyes, “once there was a guy I strongly had feelings for. Even that was one-sided though and it took me a long time to recover from that because he was my best friend at the time. Looking back to it, I guess it was love or the closest thing to it that I’ve ever felt for someone. It hasn’t happened again though so I don’t have anything to compare it to.”
“Maybe it wasn’t love, just deep infatuation. Or maybe I just confused my love for him as a friend for something more. I don’t know. I guess I’ll figure it out when I fall in love with someone else. “ She concluded and refrained from correcting that when with if. she couldn’t see herself being as lucky as to have someone that cared about her and that loved her in the future. But Bane didn’t need to know that.
Turns out that those unspoken words had become a sort of oracle, ‘cause here they were now, years after they had that conversation. Just when she thought that she had found that one person to share her life with, to give her heart to, life quickly come into play letting her know that that wasn’t the case.
Because the man that had saved her from a destiny worse than death, who had given her hope and made her trust him to the point where she had felt safe enough to open up to him and allow him close to her heart, had now shattered whatever remained of it.
"So let me get this straight, first you save my life than you decide to keep me with you so you basically kidnap me, get me to fall in love with you, put me through an insanely difficult training so that I could stay with you but it was all done in vain because now you’re  sending me away?"
"I'm not sending you away but you cannot stay here anymore. I’m doing this for you."
"And why is that? What changed?" and when Bane stayed silent she added, "what happened to 'I want you always' ?"
"I did not lie to you." His words were in striking contrast to the ones he had said before but y/n had learned to read him and could tell that this time he was not lying. But then the question naturally arises, what's really going on?
Nothing out of order had happened in the last few days. Bane and she had been the same as always, even his work had proceeded as usual. So what was it? What was she not thinking about? What was she not seeing?
Letting her mind go back through the last day to fat check that nothing happened, she went through their actions. Light breakfast together followed by a not so light tête à tête then they trained together until he had to deal with something for his work and she had occupied herself otherwise. She had called him to see when she could get dinner started and he said that he had a meeting with Talia first but had come right after. They had dinner and while they consumed their healthy and perfectly balanced meal she shared with him whatever came to her mind while he ate in silence. See, nothing out of order.
Wait a minute...
He went to meet Talia.
"It's her, isn't it?" Suddenly, everything was clear. She knew what had happened, what had changed. And she sneered at the pull Talia had on him. Suddenly, she understood but at the same time, the last year lost its meaning.
"I just wish I realized earlier that you didn't care about me as much as you said you did," turning she went to her cabinet to get her stuff, "I wouldn't have put myself through so much otherwise." 
Nodding, she knew what she had to do. She had to leave. There was no reason to stay. Resolute and defeated she put everything her eyes fell on that was hers in a little bag. Clothes, lingerie, cosmetics, books. But when her eyes landed on the little box where she kept everything connected to him, her heart broke further and her anger was fueled. 
In there, there was every present Bane ever gave her. Every little thing that made her think of him in some way. The letters he wrote her whenever spoken words failed him. She knew that going through its content would equal to a chronology of their relationship. If it was possible her heart broke even more. Everything she did to stay with him, everything he did to keep her now was all vain. She gave up so much for him, for a man. Her former self would be ashamed of her and knew that her heartbreak was contributing to making her feel something akin to that. 
"Here," she said walking where he was standing, "take this. I don't want it anymore," and she threw it at his feet. The only acknowledgement on his part was a tilt of his head but it wasn't needed. He knew what it was and what she kept inside of it. He felt a pang in his heart but kept his face void of any emotion. 
"I'll want you always," she said mocking his voice, still stuffing stuff in her bag and chuckled with mirth, "what a load of bullshit." 
"Actually," stilling for a second, with a shirt cramped in her fist she faced him, "I am the biggest clown between us because I believed you." retrying her stuffing, shaking her head she added in a whisper, "I should have known better," but Bane heard. 
As soon as he decided on this course of action, he had also prepared for her reaction. He knew her well and so far she hadn't done anything that he hadn't expected. And while he had been ready, he couldn't help but feel hurt by her words. He knew how she was looking at this situation, knew that his words had led her to believe it to be so. At the same time, a little part of him wished for her to oppose to his words, to see right through them and see that he was lying. That he had been honest when he had told her those things, he had opened up to her and meant everything. But knew that she was too lost to rage and hurt to think clearly. And it was also the reason why she was acting up and had thrown the box on the floor. He knew that she deeply cared about it and what it meant to her. He almost thought of offering some kind of comfort, to give her some hint about what was really going on. But knew that it would be unfair to her. After all, he was doing for the sake of her safety.
“You know,” her voice brought him back and his eyes were immediately drawn to her, “isn’t it funny how you man always pride yourselves to be strong and all that bullshit when even someone like you, who’s the epitome of masculinity and strength, at the end is totally subjected to a woman?” 
They would always have this kind of conversation. Bane, being a leader of a huge army, had the tendency to be bossy. Even in situations when it wasn’t needed. It was just who he was and he felt the need to remind her of his alfa status an unnecessary lot of times. While she could enjoy this inclination of his when they were in bed, she definitely couldn’t stand it in their everyday life. And now, it made her feel stupid that she had to put with it and learn how to deal with it but when it came to Talia, he just did whatever she told him to. Also, this changed her consideration of him. What a clown. She had tried to warn him about his rather toxic relationship with Talia but he’d always get angry and dismiss the conversation either by leaving or shouting at her. She could remember their last fight about it like it was yesterday. It was also the first time that she had ever doubted her relationship with him. The first time that she had thought that maybe she had made a mistake by staying with him, by falling in love with him. Maybe she should have left as soon as she had rescued her. It wasn’t for the motive of their fight, neither her jealousy and worry about his relationship with Talia, but it had all to do with what he shouted her in rage that made her blood run cold and her heart shatter. For it was said that angry and drunk people were the more honest ones. And since that moment she couldn’t help but wonder if he really thought what he said to her or if it was just an impulse propelled by anger as he had explained.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have saved you.” 
And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he decided to twist the knife further.
“I told you not to fall in love with me.”
As if one could choose who they fell for, she remembers thinking.
Those words still haunted her to this day. It happened a while ago and Bane had made it up to her, mostly. But it was in situations like this that they would come back and mock her for even forgiving him and thinking that he loved her as she loved him. To think that even a small part of him thought that it was best that he had left her to suffer in the hands of a sex abuser until he would have eventually tired of her and killed made her sick. How could anyone say something like that to another human being? One they presumedly loved? She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Bane had then explained that by that he didn’t mean leaving her with her captor but simply bring her with him and keeping her with him. Despite the fact that his explanation made sense, y/n still didn’t think it made things better.
And as for his second statement, it went mostly unmentioned. 
Sure, that had been something he had told her in the beginning. It was after her training required them to spend most of their days together since he wanted to attend to it personally. Y/n knew that being in the military and with his past, it wasn’t easy for Bane to show emotions let alone let someone close enough to him to allow himself to love them. She understood that. She had a few things she was dealing with that made it difficult for her to entertain the idea of something more between them.
But that was almost a year ago. So much had happened in their life and between them that even though the words were not spoken aloud, she felt the shift in both their behaviours when it came to them. Hell, they even started dating. 
Not that any of them labelled it that way. But that was beside the point.
They slept together, they ate together every meal, they lived together. If there was a band on both their left ring fingers and it was a more conventional setting, people would assume they were married. 
While y/n didn’t like thinking about what they had in that way, she surely considered the commitment they had made to each other equivalent to a marriage. 
She hadn’t considered Talia though. 
Or at least, she had hoped that if she ever would try and come between them, Bane would stand up for her. 
Turns out that she really was foolish.
“Whatever, I guess it’s not my problem anymore.” Giving him her back again, she closed the almost full bag and went to put on some shoes and coat. 
“I don’t have any use for it, you should take it with you.”
“Neither have I. Burn it, see if I care.” 
And with that, y/n turned around and walked out of their shared apartment at last.
It hurt to say the words, it hurt that things had ended to abruptly, it hurt that even after all this time he didn’t care about her, it hurt like hell but y/n was resolute in leaving all of this behind her. Yes, it wasn’t going to be easy and maybe it would be like leaving a hot fire trail behind her but at one point the fire would burn out, wouldn’t t? 
It may take a while but she would be okay,
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