#and in my brain its more of a slice of life thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cxffecoupx · 7 days

Text

realizing that they're in love with you

seventeen × gn reader fluff, svt being soft for s/o, comfort warnings: mentions of food, alcohol word count: 1.4k author's notes: my first ever requested article. to the anon who sent me this, i love you so much and thank you so so much for sending it in, i hope you like it, and i'm so sorry it took so much time, my brain was smoked for a bit😭 but i absolutely loved writing it. i had to read similar stuff by other svt writers (mainly @emocheol how seventeen realized you were ‘the one’ and @suhnshinehaos the soft italicized 'oh' moment) to get into it. please do check them out too, i love it!!

➼ choi seungcheol

seungcheol had come home late in the evening, tired and exhausted. work was rough, the boys were chaotic, and all he wanted now was some peace and quiet. the moment he sees you at home, however, all his stress just melts away. you're just there, smiling at him, asking about his day, but he already feels so much better. and when you stay up all night, sitting with him and helping him work through his troubles, that's when it hits him. he wants you by his side as his support, forever.

➼ yoon jeonghan

you both were out for dinner with your friends. two hours and 3 glasses of beer in, the chatter had cooled down into private conversations. you were talking to one of your colleagues when you notice jeonghan zoning out in the middle of the gathering. realising he's run out of his social battery, you say your goodbyes and stand up, and drag a drowsy han back to your car. it's not until the next morning that jeonghan understands everything and smiles to himself. a person who deciphers him state of mind? maybe you were his best match after all.

➼ hong jisoo

jisoo had gone to his hometown for some two weeks to spend with his mom. he was so excited for it he didnt even notice how much you hated him leaving you. he had been quite busy during his vacation, meeting friends, spending time with mom, but something kept troubling his mind. something he had no answer for. even the voice calls and facetimes didnt help. then he returns and sees your face among all other blurred people and smiles. he never wants to stay away from you, he realises.

➼ moon junhui

between work and practice, jun hadnt really noticed his birthday approaching. coming home after work one day, a familiar scent welcomes him. he goes to the kitchen to find a pot of simmering hotpot broth and its ingredients sliced and kept aside. with the emotions flooding in with every whiff, he doesnt notice you hugging him from the back while singing a 'happy birthday' softly, and turning him around to kiss a gentle kiss on his forehead. he has no words to say; he only embraces you tight and cries on your shoulder as the members, who had arrived a little after him on your request, watch. he doesnt say anything, his eyes conveying that he's grateful for everything you've done

➼ kwon soonyoung

if you ask his friends, kwon soonyoung was a very weird person. he says he's an introvert (well, his MBTI said that), but he's as extroverted as they get. he pretends to be a tiger most of the times and his behaviour is VERY unpredictable. everyone thought he'd be difficult to tolerate or balance out. but then you came along. now they've got two very weird people to deal with. they had talked to soonyoung how he'd met his match, but he never thought more of it, until he sees you with his friends and sees something of himself in the way you are with them. he'd finally found someone who'd match his weird.

➼ jeon wonwoo

wonwoo's camera roll was full. which only meant one thing: time to save all the pics to his laptop. he inserts the sd card into the computer and opens the file. his face instantly lights up. you had always been shy in front of camera lens. meeting wonwoo was one of the best moments of your life, but it still took time for you to adjust to his captures. that didn't stop him from considering you his muse, the one he's love to click again and again and again. seeing you smiling in the pictures he took warmed his heart. you could be camera shy, but he only ever loved capturing you.

➼ lee jihoon

jihoon is a workaholic through and through. he wouldnt think twice about missing food and sleep if its to get his work done. you'd often complained about him working saturdays too. imagine the surprise his team had when he called in to announce a day off. like, what caused the mighty lee jihoon to take a day off on a saturday?? the answer was at his home, lying between his arms, a sleepy you that had cuddled your way into his arms in the early morning hours. he'd fallen in love watching you be so comfortable with him. you'd convinced him to stay home once in a while.

➼ lee seokmin

company celebrations usually always ended with fireworks. and usually, you watched it with everyone else in the hall. but this time, seokmin arranged for the keys of the roof for you two to have a better and private view of the sparklers. you sneak in with him, giggling and tripping over your own feet in the dark as you reach the roof to see the spectacular show. you walk ahead, mind blown by how much more beautiful it looked from up here. but seokmin had his eyes locked on something else. you. he'd rather admire you than watch the fireworks.

➼ kim mingyu

food was mingyu's love language. he absolutely LOVED cooking food and feeding it to his loved ones. but since after he met you, he realised he especially loved cooking for you. he loved cooking your comfort food for you. he cooked your mom's recipes when he felt that you missed home a little too much. he loved to listen to your comments when he experimented with the ingredients. it's during one such preparation when it dawned on him. he'd love to make food for you for a very long time.

➼ xu minghao

you'd always been mesmerised hearing hao speak chinese. he doesnt use it very much; pretty much only when he's calling his family or sometimes when speaking with junhui, who's also from china. to say chinese was becoming second to him wouldnt be false because he's using so much korean in his daily life. one day, while walking around the house, he hits his toe on the couch and lets out a sharp curse in his mother tongue. you gasp and say "oh my! hao just cursed," and hao quickly turns his head towards you. it's not what you said, it was how you said it that surprised him. you had responded to him in chinese?? you explain to him how you started taking small classes in learning chinese so that he could converse comfortably with you too. you even asked him to help you. hao swore once again, but in his head. someone was ready to go to such lengths for him? he's truly fallen in love with you.

➼ boo seungkwan

seungkwan had begged for you to stay overnight. it was difficult of course, because you both were tired from work. but when he pulls the ultimate puppy eyes, you couldn't really refuse. you went through an elaborate routine of doing skincare and bathing as a way of relaxing, and watching sappy sitcoms until you both fell asleep to the white noise of the tv. seungkwan woke up first, but his breath hitched seeing you asleep next to him. apart from the little snores and a string of drool from the corner of you mouth, you looked so adorable, snuggled in next to him; so tiny, and so so cute. he stayed there, watching you, silently wishing he could see you like this every morning.

➼ chwe hansol

everyone says hansol has a weird sense of humour. it's not that he doesn't make good jokes, it's just that no one reacts in the way he wishes. so when he goes, "why did the bicycle take a nap? because it was two-tiered" and you end up crying of laughter among the dead silence of his friends, he feels a blush creep up his cheeks. someone who laughs at his corny jokes? that has to be the soulmate he never believed in.

➼ lee chan

chan cannot deny that he loves smiling. laughing. chuckling. he loves to be filled with happiness at all times. whether it's through his own jokes, or his friends' crazy antics, he wishes to be happy most of the time. that's how he realises one day that being with you makes him smile automatically. there is absolutely no specific reason. seeing you, talking to you, listening to you talk about anything and everything. no matter what you do, you always manage to bring a smile to his face. he doesnt really understand it though, how it happens. but one thing's for sure. he wishes to remain happy with you always.

651 notes · View notes

saintmurd0ck · 9 months

Text

lakeside dreamin'

masterlist

pairing: jedi general anakin skywalker x f!reader

summary: anakin reminisces about your lives together while he's away fighting in the clone wars

warnings: heavy angst, mentions of canon events in TCW, canon typical mentions of warfare, some smut/spice, mentions of sex, minors DNI 18+ only

a/n: to the one anon who requested this maybe a year ago? i saw clone wars anakin and it was over for my brain 🫠 anyway love you guys and leave a comment or reblog if you liked this! 🥺

song pairing: love on the brain (rihanna)

The war was taking its toll.

Day after day, planet after planet, all Anakin knew now was his place on the battlefield. And his role in leading the victory for the Jedi and the Republic, even though their dogma preached peace, not violence. Every skirmish brought a new kind of horror to his once uncomplicated life, whether it was watching Separatist droids and clone troopers alike, cut down as easily as marsh reeds, or the simple fact that his relationship with the Force was dwindling towards something impure. Something he couldn’t make sense of, and would surely raise more questions than answers if he were to confide in his Masters. It wasn’t that he contemplated reaching towards the Dark side, or thought of the kind of evil only the Sith could endure; it was more like an isolating numbness that spread from within, and before long, Anakin felt the cloud settle over his mind.

He was tired of seeing smoke — the kind that billowed in every direction, stinking of despair and lost hope on his front, despite the war turning to the Republic’s favour. It was the sound of unending blaster fire and the repetitive ignition of his lightsaber that haunted his nightmares, and with only the company of his clone legion, his Padawan Ahsoka and the occasional appearance from Obi-Wan, he felt himself starting to slip.

He was overwhelmed, and encumbered with burden.

Never before had he experienced such guilt, anger and suffering — towards his army, towards the civilians caught in the crossfire, and towards his relationship with you.

The secret life the two of you led, away from the Order, felt like something out of another galaxy, another lifetime. It was as if eons had passed since he’d last seen you, and yet the world was constantly evolving — not towards freedom, but into a more destructive version of its past. Even for a Jedi General (and, one could argue, because he was a Jedi General), Anakin had little comfort, and much less sway in which systems he visited and what he took part in. Seeing you was absolutely out of the question, but it wasn’t like he bothered to even ask, out of fear of inviting a lecture from Obi-Wan, or Maker-forbid, an audience with Master Yoda.

At least things like facilitating training for the Onderon rebels allowed him to feel more of himself, and to an extent, a sort of unity with the Council, but all of that was quickly replaced by the more sinister side of the Separatist Alliance, such as the trainwreck on Zygerria. Liberation didn’t exist there. Not until Anakin showed up.

It was these events that really compelled him to look inwards, to not just seek the Force’s guidance, but to use it in tandem with a coping mechanism that would get him through the war.

And so the vignettes began. Slowly, at first.

It started off as little glimpses of your life together, slices of euphoric nostalgia that weaved their way into Anakin’s being. He didn’t realise just how much he yearned for you; not simply the way your skin felt on his, but the pureness of your energy, the reminder that good truly did exist in this world. As much as these images were a solace to his sanity, they brought about a sense of malaise. Contrition, actually, if he sought the Force for the purpose of clarity. Even though it all existed in his head, allowing himself these indulgences felt like once again, he was breaking Code.

But could it really have been that bad, if it honed his focus? If it drew him back to the bigger picture, of the why? Reminding himself of who it was he fought for didn’t erase the atrocities, but it gave him that flicker of hope, knowing that the sum of his actions equalled a better world for you.

And some selfish, miniscule part of him figured that if he could lead the victory, he’d be pardoned when the Order inevitably found out about the life the two of you shared. It isn’t as if no-one already knew. He was sure Ahsoka was aware. Rex, too. He doubted when it came to Obi-Wan, but then again very little got past his Master.

While the memories of you lay fresh before his eyes, they seemed to sharpen at specific points throughout the day; often in the thick of battle, or when he woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat, nothing but thin shafts of moonlight illuminating his body. It’s like they were stitched perfectly amongst the real action, scattered at perfect intervals that jerked his body into manoeuvre.

The sweetest images had always featured the lake.

Armed with nothing more but his wits, his back pressed against the cold, wet stone in a cave on Vanqor, he reminisced about that first night with you by the lakeside. The sweet smell of wildflowers carried in the breeze, heightened by his affinity for the Force. He recalled the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore, and how the two moons cast their milky glow upon the shimmering surface of the water. And you — radiant, almost ethereal in the soft light, and the way your lips brushed against his neck, filling him with the kind of heat that flooded all at once. Not even the screech of the pursuing gundark could have interrupted this moment in time. He felt his breathing go ragged, because he remembered what happened next. He gritted his teeth, thinking about the way he moved inside you, and how you tangled your fingers in his hair, pressing chaste kisses to his mouth, his chest, whispering his name in sinful bliss. The gundark didn’t stand a chance. Not when Anakin’s motivation for getting out alive laid in sweet promise, embedded in these visions.

His name felt the most natural rolling off your tongue, nevermind that that was truly the last real thing he possessed, unmarred by time and the influence of the Jedi. In that moment, when you’d taken him over the edge with you, crying his name so loud he swore someone had heard, he knew he’d give it over to you if you’d asked.

He thought of the lake again when he was in Felucia, crouched low amongst the sillum. His lightsaber grew heavy in his hand, the ridges suddenly awkward in his palm, but the grip he’d started to lose on his lifeline gave rise to something he couldn’t ignore.

It was another temperate day and the sun had created the most brilliant reflections on the surface of the lake. With the grasses and trees swaying in the wind, Anakin closed his eyes, reaching out with the Force. He didn’t prod or poke, but rather he cast a wide net, a delicate caress, to connect with the life that teemed. It sang to him in a multi-layered harmony, acting as a prominent reminder that the Force flowed in all living things. And when his eyes fluttered open, he watched you carefully as you walked towards the water, your feet crunching on the smooth pebbles that made up the beach. You turned around to give him a dazzling smile, moving with deliberation to slip off your clothes. Your laughter echoed in the crisp air as you dived into the lake, disappearing under a swathe of emerald green, only to resurface in the middle with a large grin plastered to your face. He didn’t hesitate to jump in, to shed his clothing on the spot. A shudder ran down his spine at the thought of what happened shortly after.

Sometimes it was hard to return to the present, to remember that he’d sleep alone that night while you were only just waking up, systems away, most likely after another fitful slumber. There were times where he thought these visions would serve no other purpose than to derail him, when the temptation of your touch shadowed his desire for victory. These moments guided him to channel the Force within, so as to remind himself of why he was doing this in the first place. Because it was more than just a coping mechanism. It was an anchor. A thrumming pulse point. A gentle acknowledgement of the life he wanted to come back to.

It’s then that he wondered when enough would be enough, when the war would come to a stalemate, as it so often did in their history. The tide was turning, and he knew it.

And there it was again, that kernel of hope, that ember of light that shone in the depths of his soul. Even reduced to a ghost in his memory, you were tangible, so tangible now. He wouldn’t let the Separatists win. He couldn’t, because there was too much at stake. And so if thinking of you, in these ways, helped him remember that, he wasn’t going to stop.

Not for anyone.

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker angst #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fic #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin fanfiction #x reader #rhi writes 💻

462 notes · View notes

sprite-writes-fanfic · 3 months

Note

hey so how do you think the 2003 tmnt boys would deal with having dated their s/o for two years now, is anniversary, and the brothers, or April or Casey asks, “so 2 years, do you two think you’ll last longer?” And s/o is just like “I’d marry this one if I could”?

This ask 🥺🥺 I feel my mind already racing with headcanons that I need to get out GAH!!

The topic of marriage?!

🐢💙❤️2003 TMNT x Reader💜🧡🐢

Word Count: 1054

CW: Gender-neutral reader, they/them is used but you can replace them with your pronouns! Topics of marriage are brought up! Mushy turtles, pure fluff ahead!

You and your partner have been together in probably the best relationship you’ve ever been in. It’s always had its ups and downs, but you two have always pushed through! And now your second anniversary is arriving soon and neither of you can’t wait to proceed with your future together!

Well, during a conversation between you, the guys, April and Casey, the question of, “So, two years… Do you guys think you’ll last longer?” Causing April to shoot Casey a small glare when he asked this, (let’s be honest he didn’t mean it in an insensitive way he’s just asking because it’s a genuine question).

Without missing a beat, you were quick to answer, “I’d marry him if I could.” A smile playing on your lips, not really noticing the subtle squeeze on your hand from your partner.

🐢💙Leonardo💙🐢

💙 Leo is over THE MOON! You would want to marry him?! Really?! Any insecurity of you possibly thinking about ever wanting somebody else is gone in an instance. You want him, and only him, and this man couldn’t be any happier.

💙 He’s thinking about it the whole time and is noticeably more spaced out because of it. He is on cloud nine and is absolutely fantasizing about the wedding you guys could have…

💙 Later that night you and him lay in his bed snuggled up together, the candles flickering softly as you read and he rested on you, his head in your lap. Finally, you ask him, “Hey, Leo? You okay? You’ve been out of it a lot tonight.”

💙 Leo could only smile up at you, “Oh, it’s nothing, just thinking about what you said earlier.” And once it hit you, you couldn’t help but blush a bit and smile with him.

💙 He was extra cuddly and affectionate towards you for the following months (along with being more protective too), he just could not get that memory out of his head. I wouldn’t be surprised if he popped the question leading up those months. <3

🐢❤️Raphael❤️🐢

❤️ Raph’s ego grew more along with the swelling in his chest. This giant turtle had some insecurities, I mean, as a mutant turtle growing up with the possibility of never being able to live a normal life like any average Joe?

❤️ He’s thrilled at the thought that you’d want to marry him because he’s definitely thought about it too. Getting some slice of normalcy. You know how I mentioned how he’s daydreamed about your first date? Well after the first year, he daydreamed about your future together too.

❤️ Get married, settle down, maybe even start a family, whether it be through somehow making a kid, adopting an actual child or just having fur-babies to be your kids.

❤️ Either way, he’s stoked, and he’s CONFIDENT TOO, oh man you just gave him ammo to tease you with, (don’t worry he’ll stop if you ask him to). He will definitely say things like, “I don’t blame you for wanting to marry me, I mean, look at me!” While flexing, making you laugh as he softly smirked.

❤️ Actually grows more overprotective over you too! Like… It’s surprising. He was already overprotective of you, but now he’s just more overprotective. He wants his future spouse to be safe after all! And ain’t nothin’ gonna touch you when Raph’s around and ready to brawl with any criminal who tries to hurt you.

🐢💜Donatello💜🐢

💜 Donnie froze a moment as he heard this, and his whole brain paused before quietly glancing over at you in a shy manner. Marriage? Oh man, he didn’t predict this as a result of tonight’s get-together!

💜 Don’t worry, he’s actually really mushy inside. He feels like a schoolgirl getting all squirmy and bashful because her crush confessed to her! He ends up getting more fidgety with your hands and stutters a bit.

💜 It’ll be on his mind for a good while, but as of now, he’s too shy to bring it up to you. Not until it slips up during your actual anniversary anyways. He was ranting as always about something, and well, that ended up slipping out. It honestly surprised you that he was thinking about that, it was really endearing.

💜 And trust me, it’ll always be running through his mind for a long time, he just hopes your opinion will stay the same throughout the years. But until then, Donnie decided to make the both of you promise rings! He presented it to you one day, feeling warm when you seemed so excited about it. “I want to marry you, but I’m also not 100% ready for marriage either. But when the day comes, I’ll propose with the prettiest of rings.”

💜 You made his century when he saw you wear that ring everyday. To him it meant that you were willing to wait until he was ready too, and he was thankful for that patience you gifted him with, and he was looking forward to what came in your future together.

🐢🧡Michelangelo🧡🐢

🧡 Mikey would just as casually say with a laugh, “Oh yeah! Me too! … WAIT REALLY?!” And he jumped up and grabbed your hands excitedly. You had only see this kind of excitement when Donnie had built the Shell Raiser all those years ago.

🧡 Bro is so excited, “Why not now?!” And now you were in a bit of shock, and Raph was quick to but-in, “You need to propose with a ring, knucklehead!” Now Mikey is pouting. You end up hugging him and comforting him.

🧡 But in no-means is he deterred by Raph’s comment, he is now determined, and he’s been talking with April about what he should do, and that’s when suggested, “Why not make your own ring?” He stared a moment before he was quick to go, “April, you’re a genius!”

🧡 With Mikey though, he’s easy to get side-tracked and distracted often, and when it came to things that took a lot of time, he got frustrated easily. But he wasn’t gonna give up!

🧡 When he finally finished, (with Donnie’s help after he begged the poor man), he was basically vibrating with excitement! He was stoked and wanted to propose right away, but with April and his brother’s advice, he figured he’d find a more romantic way of doing it… He might put that ring in your slice of pizza, let’s be honest.

GAAH, gonna be honest, I was a little stumped with Mikey last night and had to sleep on it, change some things, all that fun jazz. Once again spoiling Mikey’s moment, but maybe at some point I’ll make proposal headcanons! Also, if you want, I’m thinking of making a taglist, if you want to be tagged, let me know!

#sprite writes #fanfic #tmnt #tmnt 2003 x reader #tmnt 2003 #leo x reader #raph x reader #donnie x reader #mikey x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #2003 leo #2003 raph #2003 donnie #2003 mikey

228 notes · View notes

cassiopeiathe1st · 9 months

Text

so as a biology major, here's some things i've been chewing on after reading the unwanted guest. this post is brought to you by the part of my brain that saw the 7th's hereditary blood cancer and thought ok but what KIND of cancer is that.

the phrasing of "permeability of the soul" makes me think of semipermeable membranes and diffusion. diffusion is a passive process -- our molecules, when left to their own devices, want to be everywhere because entropy, but the semipermeable membranes that make up cells organelles etc make life possible by keeping things organized. this dividing & filtering process is required to keep things in place. with me so far?

to me, this concept of permeability emphasizes that souls are objects with boundaries. there's a line somewhere, however blurry (clearly very very blurry) or porous, that divides self & other, and! and!! that line only exists because it is somehow constructed, maintained, enforced. see: ianthe working so hard to convince herself/pal/the hypothetical audience of this play she's putting on that she's just ianthe with no babs mixed in. or john's ritual of retelling his story to alecto/harrow in NTN. something something being the unreliable narrator of your own identity.

palamedes calls the process that merges him and camilla to give us paul grand lysis vs. the "petty", incomplete lysis of eightfold word lyctorhood. lysis = the disintegration of a cell by rupture of the cell wall or membrane. the boundaries of their souls are sliced open so their contents can be poured out & mixed together to make someone new. but even in conventional lyctorhood, there's some kind of exchange of whatever material makes up the soul between cavalier & necromancer. as our boy tells ianthe at the end of the unwanted guest,

This is the real truth of Lyctorhood, Ianthe--it's not some bloodless swapping-out of batteries. It's grafting; transplantation. When you absorbed Naberius Tern's soul, you didn't swallow a diamond. You swallowed a piece of meat...and the longer you digest that meat, the more its proteins and lipids and molecules mix in with yours, until you can't tell them apart anymore.

idk where i'm even going with all of this, i'm just rotating it in my head, but:

tamsyn muir is so precise with her necromancy jargon & anatomical terms that i feel like there's definitely meaning to be found in the imagery here. there is poetry in biology, the universe is made of stories not of atoms, etc etc

it turns out lysis is also the title of a dialogue of plato on "the true nature of loving friendship," so if any classics enjoyers have thoughts on that connection i would love to hear them!

if lyctorhood is transplantation, is it possible for that transplant to be rejected? can the graft refuse to take?

souls are contained within their edges not unlike how a cell membrane contains its cytoplasm. or how a capri sun pouch contains its juice. and lyctors slurp that shit up and digest it baby

why choose to link the soul so closely with water? (the river, bubbles, currents & waves in the river, nona saying the water of the river "doesn't want to touch us.") contents of souls = liquid in the same way that the river is a liquid??? the river = spirit version of the primordial soup???

dulcinea refers to the river having two shores, not just a generic "shore", so it sounds like they're different in some meaningful way. but that may be conditional on what happens in alecto ("if this ends well you'll find that out")? is the point of the river the river itself, or is the point of the river to separate those two places?

#tlt meta #the unwanted guest #the unwanted guest spoilers #the locked tomb #tlt speculation #on lyctorhood #the river #tamsyn i am in! your! walls!!!#(if you have thoughts on any of this please do engage i'm SO interested to hear other people's interpretations)#my posts #necro science #necromancy studies

317 notes · View notes

bettyfrommars · 20 days

Note

I came to make a request. Due to recent dream-events happening in my skull cavity.

We dream we're stuck in a post-apocalyptic world, in one of those dreams that seems to go on forever. We're scared and lonely and to deep to wake up soon. Eddie's nightmare sense tingles and he hurries to join us.

This request has been in my asks for monthsss, and I can't believe I never answered it. I think I got too precious about it instead of just writing the damn thing. This is more wasteland than some of the post-apocalyptic worlds we've talked about, but the sentiment is there, and I think of you whenever I write for our nightmare boy. Just a quick lil blurb on this Saturday afternoon.

nightmare!Eddie x afab!Reader

18+ONLY, nightmares, being lost in a strange land, mention of blood, mention of dehydration and deadly tumbleweeds, use of pet names.

wc: 991

Nightmare Factory Masterlist

The ground at your feet shifted with every step until you lost balance altogether, stumbling to your knees. The scorched earth was as inhospitable as the hot air that burned in your throat, tongue swollen from dehydration. The only reprieve was the sun disappearing on the horizon, exploding from tangerine to purple, making room for cool moonlight to temper your fevered flesh.

Water, you needed water. Patting around your body, you felt for the canteen you were sure had been full but tilting it back to your chapped lips produced barely a drop. How long had you been walking? It felt like days. You were sure there had been other people with you at some point, but then perhaps you'd always been alone.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw it coming your way at full tilt, rolling across the desolate land on a burst of wind that caressed your skin like sandpaper.

A tumbleweed, several of them. They roamed the wasteland in gangs, sensing their way along like jellyfish do in the sea.

A very different breed that the ones from the other world you could scarcely remember, these were as tall as you, a round tangle of dead branches. The thorns that covered it were as thick as your finger, and just as menacing as a thousand rusty nails.

You had to get out of its way before it sliced you bloody.

But then your legs refused to work, and you couldn't move, all you could manage was a whimpering sound at the back of your throat, frozen in place as it barreled down on you.

You closed your eyes for the inevitable assault, but then you were tackled to the ground...

by a person, not a tumbleweed

he rolled his body on top of yours to act as a human shield so that one of the horrid, sharp things would fly over his back instead of touching you.

When the wind settled, he shifted up, bracing himself on an elbow to refrain from crushing you. His dark hair was messy with a touch of static sticking out on one side, and his shirt said something about Hellfire. His chocolate eyes flashed between joy and fear, and then he licked his tongue out to wet his lips and you mirrored the gesture.

"You hurt?" The dead ground felt like uneven pavement as he helped you to sit up, dusting you off with a firm but gentle touch. "That was a close one, shit I almost didn't make it in time. I was on another job but then I felt you were in danger, and I said fuck it, Kevin will have to---" he chuckled, a dimple popping up in his cheek, noting the confused expression on your face.

"How do I know you?" He was so familiar that it warmed your insides, but you'd been alone in that world for so long, it was as if maybe you knew him in another life.

He got to his feet, extending a hand to help you up. "I'm your boyfriend," he said proudly.

"I have a boyfriend?" You strained to find reason in your foggy brain, but maybe this was a symptom of heatstroke.

"That's okay," he sighed, opening the lid on his own canteen. "Sometimes you remember and sometimes you don't, but I'm always yours, regardless. Names Eddie."

You grabbed the metal container eagerly with both hands, like a squirrel with a nut, and began to gulp the velvet liquid. Three, four swallows, but then he stopped you.

"Easy now," Eddie grinned. "You'll wake up if you drink too much."

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and gave it back to him, albeit reluctantly.

He stared down that the cap he was screwing back on as he spoke. "Is it alright if I kiss you?"

A wash of memories came back to you with such an impact that it almost knocked you off your feet again. You knew then that you'd kissed him before, many times, and you loved it

You loved him.

"I love you," you said, nodding, and he saw the recognition bloom in your pupils.

"I love it when you remember me," he leaned over to smile against your mouth, holding your head to plant a few soft, lingering kisses.

"You ready to get out of here?" He intertwined his fingers with yours and then started walking, urging you to follow, practically pulling you along.

"Wait, Eddie, where are we going?"

There was nothing around for miles and miles, but for some crumbling, abandoned buildings and stacks of charred rubble from fires.

"I promised I'd take you to the mall," he said over his shoulder, squeezing your hand a few times for reassurance. "There's a movie theater and an arcade and I thought we could, I don't know, just be together."

A few yards later, Eddie came to a halt and seemed to be staring at something you couldn't see in the empty space in front of him.

"Stay behind me, sweetheart," he cautioned just before tapping a button on his wristwatch.

A huge rectangular door appeared, making you jump. It opened up into a compartment with metal handrails and a column of numbers.

"An elevator?" You whispered it more to yourself, but then he stepped inside first to show you that it was safe, keeping a firm grip on your hand.

"I'd rather not take the stairs," he pulled you close with a huff so that the door could slide shut with a ding. "There's like, a billion of them."

Once inside, there was a smooth jazz instrumental playing, but the round numbers on the column were confusing. They were not in order but also, there were half numbers, symbols, various color shapes, and words that seemed to be spelled wrong like "dragun". He pushed one of the numbers, and then was quick to settle back in the corner and put his arm around you, urging you hug him fully and rest your head on him.

He pressed his lips to your forehead as the elevator began to ascend.

"Thank you for coming to save me," your voice was muffled in his t-shirt. "I've been having a lot of really bad nightmares lately."

"I know, sweetheart," he hugged you tighter, speaking softly. "I know."

#the nightmare factory #nightmare!Eddie #Somna my liege 💙

51 notes · View notes

rockalillygirl · 5 months

Text

Mamma mia here we go again…

So I have more thoughts because apparently there’s no bottom to the murderbot mindhole I’ve fallen down.

(Spoiler warning- minor stuff from several of the books, pls check tags etc.)

I’ve been reading a lot of things recently exploring Murderbot as an unreliable narrator, which I think is a cool result of System Collapse (because we all know our beloved MB is going through it in this one). There’s also been some interesting related discussion of MB’s distrust of and sometimes biased assessment/treatment of other constructs and bots.

And I’ve been reading a lot about CombatUnits! And I want to talk about them!!

Main thoughts can be summarized as follows:

We don’t see a lot about CombatUnits in the books, and I think what we do see from MB’s pov encourages the reader to view them as less sympathetic than other constructs.

I’m very skeptical of this portrayal for reasons.

The existence of CombatUnits makes me fucking sad and I have a lot of feelings about them!

I got introduced to the idea of MB as an unreliable narrator in a post by onironic It analyzes how in SC, MB seems to distrust Three to a somewhat unreasonable degree, and how it sometimes infantilizes Three or treats it the way human clients have treated it in the past. The post is Amazing and goes into way more detail, so pls go read it (link below):

https://www.tumblr.com/onironic/736245031246135296?source=share

So these ideas were floating around in my brain when I read an article Martha Wells recently published in f(r)iction magazine titled “Bodily Autonomy in the Murderbot Diaries”. I’ll link the article here:

(Rn the only way to access the article is to subscribe to the magazine or buy an e-copy of the specific issue which is $12)

In the article, Wells states that MB displaced its fear of being forced to have sex with humans onto the ComfortUnit in Artificial Condition. I think it’s reasonable to assume that MB also does this with other constructs. With Three, I think it’s more that MB is afraid if what it knows Three is capable of, or (as onironic suggests in their post and I agree with) some jealousy that Three seems more like what humans want/expect a rogue SecUnit to be.

But I want to explore how this can be applied to CombatUnits, specifically.

We don’t learn a lot about them in the books. One appears for a single scene in Exit Strategy, and that’s it. What little else we know comes from MB’s thoughts on them sprinkled throughout the series. To my knowledge, no other character even mentions them (which raises interesting questions about how widely-known their existence is outside of high-level corporate military circles).

When MB does talk about CombatUnits in the early books, it’s as a kind of boogeyman figure (the real “murderbots” that even Murderbot is afraid of). And then when one does show up in ES, it’s fucking terrifying! There’s a collective “oh shit” moment as both MB and the reader realize what it’s up against. Very quickly what we expect to be a normal battle turns into MB running for its life, desperately throwing up hacks as the CombatUnit slices through them just as fast. We and MB know that it wouldn’t have survived the encounter if its humans hadn’t helped it escape. So the CombatUnit really feels like a cut above the other enemies in the series.

And what struck me reading that scene was how the CombatUnit acts like the caricature of an “evil robot” that MB has taught us to question. It seems single-mindedly focused on violence and achieving its objective, and it speaks in what I’d call a “Terminator-esque” manner: telling MB to “Surrender” (like that’s ever worked) and responds to MB’s offer to hack its governor module with “I want to kill you” (ES, pp 99-100).

(Big tangent: Am I the only one who sees parallels between this and how Tlacey forces the ComfortUnit to speak to MB in AC? She makes it suggest they “kill all the humans” because that’s how she thinks constructs talk to each other (AC, pp 132-4). And MB picks up on it immediately. So why is that kind of talk inherently less suspicious coming from a CombatUnit than a ComfortUnit? My headcanon is that I’m not convinced the CombatUnit was speaking for itself. What if a human controller was making it say things they thought would be intimidating? Idk maybe I’ve been reading too many fics where CombatUnits are usually deployed with a human handler. There could be plenty of reasons why the CombatUnit would’ve talked like that. I’m just suspicious.)

(Also, disclaimer: I want to clarify before I go on that I firmly believe that even though MB seems to be afraid of CombatUnits and thinks they’re assholes, it would still advocate for them to have autonomy. I’m not trying to say that either MB or Wells sees CombatUnits as less worthy of personhood or freedom- because I feel the concept that “everything deserves autonomy” is very much at the heart of the series.)

So it’s clear from all of this that MB is scared of CombatUnits and distrusts them for a lot of reasons. I read another breathtaking post by @grammarpedant that gives a ton of examples of this throughout the books and has some great theories on why MB might feel this way. I’ll summarize the ones here that inspired me the most, but pls go read the original post for the full context:

https://www.tumblr.com/grammarpedant/703920247856562177?source=share

OP explains that SecUnits and CombatUnits are pretty much diametrically opposed because of their conflicting functions: Security safeguards humans, while Combat kills them. Of course these functions aren’t rigid- MB has implied that it’s been forced to be violent towards humans before, and I’m sure that extracting/guarding important assets could be a part of a CombatUnit's function. But it makes sense that MB would try to distance itself from being considered a CombatUnit, using its ideas about them to validate the parts of its own function that it likes (protecting people). OP gives what I think is the clearest example of this, which is the moment in Fugitive Telemetry when MB contrasts its plan to sneak aboard a hostile ship and rescue some refugees with what it calls a “CombatUnit” plan, which would presumably involve a lot more murder (FT, p 92).

This reminds me again of what Wells said in the f(r)iction article, that on some level MB is frightened by the idea that it could have been made a ComfortUnit (friction, p 44). I think the idea that it could’ve been a CombatUnit scares it too, and that’s why it keeps distinguishing itself and its function from them. But I think it’s important to point out, that in the above example from FT, even MB admits that the murder-y plan it contrasts with its own would be one made by humans for CombatUnits. So again we see that we just can’t know much about the authentic nature of CombatUnits, or any constructs with intact governor modules, because they don’t have freedom of expression. MB does suggest that CombatUnits may have some more autonomy when it comes to things like hacking and combat which are a part of their normal function. But how free can those choices be when the threat of the governor module still hangs over them?

I think it could be easy to fall into the trap of seeing CombatUnits as somehow more complicit in the systems of violence in the mbd universe. But I think that’s because we often make a false association between violence and empowerment, when even in our world that’s not always the case. But, critically, this can’t be the case for CombatUnits because they’re enslaved in the same way SecUnits and ComfortUnits are (though the intricacies are different).

There was another moment in the f(r)iction article that I found really chilling. Wells states that there’s a correlation between SecUnits that are forced to kill humans and ones that go rogue (friction, p 45). It’s a disturbing thought on its own, but I couldn’t help wondering then how many CombatUnits try to hack their governor modules? And what horrible lengths would humans go to to stop them? I refuse to believe that a CombatUnit’s core programming would make it less effected by the harm its forced to perpetrate. That might be because I’m very anti-deterministic on all fronts, but I just don’t buy it.

I’m not entirely sure why I feel so strongly about this. Of course, I find the situation of all constructs in mbd deeply upsetting. But the more I think about CombatUnits, the more heartbreaking their existence seems to me. There’s a very poignant moment in AC when MB compares ART’s function to its own to explain why there are things it doesn’t like about being a SecUnit (AC, p 33). In that scene, MB is able to identify some parts of its function that it does like, but I have a hard time believing a CombatUnit would be able to do the same. I’m not trying to say that SecUnits have it better (they don’t) (the situation of each type of construct is horrible in it’s own unique way). It’s just that I find the idea of construct made only for violence and killing really fucking depressing. I can’t even begin to imagine the horror of their day-to-day existence.

@grammarpedant made another point in their post that I think raises a TON of important questions not only about CombatUnits, but about how to approach the idea of “function” when it comes to machine intelligence in general. They explain that, in a perfect version of the mbd universe, there wouldn’t be an obvious place for CombatUnits the way there could be for SecUnits and ComfortUnits who wanted to retain their original functions. A better world would inherently be a less violent one, so where does that leave CombatUnits? Would they abandon their function entirely, or would they find a way to change it into something new?

I’ve been having a lot of fun imagining what a free CombatUnit would be like. But in some ways it’s been more difficult than I expected. I’ve heard Wells say in multiple interviews that one of her goals in writing Murderbot was to challenge people to empathize with someone they normally wouldn’t, and I find CombatUnits challenging in exactly that way. Sometimes I wonder if I would’ve felt differently about these books if MB had been a CombatUnit instead of a SecUnit. Would I have felt such an immediate connection to MB if its primary function before hacking its governor module had been killing humans, or if it didn’t have relatable hobbies like watching media? Or if it didn’t have a human face for the explicit purpose of making people like me more comfortable? I’m not sure that I would have.

Reading SC has got me interested in exploring the types of people that humans (or even MB itself) would struggle to accept. So CombatUnits are one of these and possible alien-intelligences are another. All this is merely a small sampling of the thoughts that have been swirling around in my brain-soup! So if anyone is interested in watching me fumble my way through these concepts in more detail, I may be posting “something” in the very near future!

Would really appreciate anyone else’s thoughts about all of THIS^^^^ It’s been my obsession over the holidays and helping me cope with family stress and flying anxiety.

#murderbot diaries #murderbot meta #artificial condition #exit strategy #fugitive telemetry #system collapse #murderbot spoilers #combat unit #FEELINGS #i blink and then it's 2000 words later #jesus christ

132 notes · View notes

saylor-twift · 6 months

Note

alright, so first off. This is my first time doing a req to a creator/author/writer I admire so much so hopefully I won't cause any confusion— ">-< but could you uhh do a wanderer x reader unrequited love? (eg: wanderer prefers someone over reader) I really want more angst to read and also with this topic. You don't have to take this request if you're not comfortable!

(❄️. SHON)

Yes yes I can!! This is such a coincidence cause I just recently made a very similar request to one of my mutuals haha. Recently I’ve lowkey had this brain rot of Wanderer having feelings for the traveler (Lumine) because i’ve been reading so much Scaralumi lmfao and it lowkey makes me kinda salty even tho i love them to death so that’s kinda the direction this will take :) Thanks so much for asking!!

side note: I’m so fking angry i literally had this whole thing proofread and totally ready like an hour and a half ago when my tumblr fucking shuts down and deletes all my work and I had already deleted it off the google doc so I could paste the version from tumblr so i had to go restore the google doc and ughhh it caused me an extra hour of work cause i had to proofread everything again. anyways, please enjoy :)

Live is to Love, as Love is to Hurt

word count: 6801

also heads up for anyone who doesn’t know, I like to refer to Wanderer as Kunimitsu cause that’s the name I gave him :)

Everyone knows, or should know at least, that when one decides to accept something, anything, that they are also agreeing to take on each and every single thing that comes with it. To look forward to the rebirth of spring means also accepting that the barren, frosty breath of winter will indeed return, turning the once lush gardens of the world into sharp, jagged blades of grass and trees devoid of green. The same is true when you decide to accept somebody into your life. You must know that no matter how benevolent and perfect to you they may seem, fate has its mishaps, and doesn’t always play a fair game. And yet there’s one more thing, one might think after learning all these things that the way they will be better off is to never take risks. And supposedly yes, maybe you won’t get hurt, but you also won’t live. Because to live is to love, to live is to hurt, to live is to heal.

This current chapter of life feels strikingly similar to one of those slice of life novels you’d expect to find at the bookstore on the corner of the street. Only it wasn’t something you read whilst sipping tea on a sunday afternoon, it’s more like the type of heart-breaking piece of literature you finish late on friday nights, the kind that leaves you restless and contemplating the rest of the weekend. Or in this case, the rest of the month. And instead of seeing yourself in the life of the main character and mourning for them as if they were your own, the one who hurts is you, and it feels like nobody from the sidelines is mourning on your behalf. It’s almost ridiculous the amount of times you’ve mentally punched yourself for being this distraught, doesn’t everybody experience heartbreak at least once in their life? Maybe they do, but not everyone feels it this hard. Not everyone devotes every single inch of love in their hearts towards one singular person, only to have it blown out like the candles on a birthday cake, because the candles of the one you love burn for somebody who isn’t you.

And maybe if you were younger, if you were less understanding, if you had less control… you would be vengeful, heart full of nothing but envy for the lovely woman whose presence has his full attention. But you’re not, because you’ve grown. You’re older, you’re wiser, you understand. You understand the kind of pain such a mindset would inflict not only on the people around you, but also yourself. It’s truly hard to feel hate for that beautiful woman. She’s ever so kind, and strong, and beautiful and perfect and everything you’ve somehow convinced yourself that you’re not. She’s never wronged you, it’s not her fault. Truthfully, it’s not anyone’s fault. But that won’t change the fact that it hurts. In fact, it maims your very soul more than any pain you could have felt before. Most people would wonder why you even felt for him in the first place if they knew the history the two of you had. Yet the answer comes clear as day. To feel such comfort around him is something that rarely comes from other people. You know you can speak your mind on a bad day without scaring him off, and he knows, you hope he knows, that you’d put up with and listen to him as much as he needed as well. You love the way you always have to stifle a laugh whenever he makes an inappropriate comment, or how he’s unafraid to let you know when you’re wrong. How he always has to ponder the mysteries of the world at such a deep level, never taking things at face-value. And how he always hears you out from your perspective, never making you feel crazy or out of place for your seemingly otherworldly ideas.

Maybe it irked you at first, his insouciant and immature behavior, but it’s difficult to keep lying to yourself when really you knew deep down how endearing it felt, to have someone close enough to share such experiences with. And yet, through all of this, it seemed you had read him all wrong. This was the first time you had ever loved someone this deeply, let alone loved at all. People these days, especially young people, seem to lack the mental complexities you’d prefer in a partner. You wanted someone you could love and understand, not just some accessory at the hip to just brag and boast about. Even with all the times he’d berated you with insults and poked fun at your mishaps, he still possessed a sort of depth to his mentality, the kind that honestly made you fawn over the way you could hold meaningful conversations without feeling like you didn’t belong. If you recall correctly, he did mention once that he wasn’t a fan of small talk. Maybe that was just the way he was, or maybe it came as a result of his seemingly never ending history of trauma. (it made your heart clench just thinking about it, but you rarely brought it up. You knew all too well he wasn’t fond of the subject)

It only made sense he managed to snatch your heart right up into an unbreakable death grip. You were in love with him, for sure and certain. And it was likely that undying inferno, clouding your correct judgment in a cloud of smoke and ash, that led you to be here in this scene, the very moment that truly broke your heart, for the very first time.

You’d seen him with the girl a number of times, and to be fair, neither of them had ever confirmed any affection for the other, so perhaps you were just overthinking it all. Maybe to think such things would only be setting yourself up for disappointment, but for now, that could be left to the future. Maybe, if you were to get over your fears and doubts for just a moment, you would tell him. Maybe plan something for just the two of you, like they do in those cheap romance novels, and over a glass of zaytun peach lemonade, you look him in the eyes and say, “I love you.” And he would reply with, “Yes, so do I.” And the day would end however the author of said cheap romance novel sees fit.

And so you decide to do exactly that.

You find yourself sitting in immense regret as you wait outside the doors to the Akedemiya, anxiously picking at the cuticle of one of your nails as the unforgiving sun beats down on the back of your head. You’ll likely never fully get used to Sumeru’s weather. Typically at this time of the week, he attends the usual Vahumana lecture, begrudgingly of course. That was one of the things he was fond of complaining to you about, specifically the professor, whom he described as a “sulking old wench on the verge of death.” Maybe the description was a little much, but it elicited little giggles out of you nonetheless. And as the clock hits two in the afternoon, your anticipation only increases as you watch the door open and close, pairs of students leaving in intervals. You instantly perk up as you see his slender figure push its way out from the large wooden doors, making a beeline directly away from where everyone else was heading. Caught up in simply admiring him as he strolls away, lost in a daze, you suddenly snap out of your daydream as the realization hits you that he’s the reason you’re here. If he gets away, you’ll lose your chance.

With one last quick, deep breath of reassurance, you jog up to his side before he’s too far away, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Hey, hold on!” You call out, cheeks instantly redding as he cocks his head in your direction with a (thankfully) only mildly annoyed expression. Having a crush is so much more mortifying than you would have ever anticipated. “Hey-“

“What?” He interrupts, clearly already exasperated with whatever antics he thinks you intend to throw his way. “How was school?” You inquire, jogging up to his side again as he quickens his pace out of annoyance. “Don’t ask questions like that, I’m not your child.”

“Fine, my fault for wanting to know how you’re doing. I have a request for you.” You press on, not wanting to waste much time with his brashness. “I’m going to decline.” He insists. “No, you won’t. Well, maybe you will. But i’m politely requesting that you accept.”

“Well, you have to tell me what it even is first, no?”

You mentally roll your eyes. He always had to be like this, didn’t he? “I’m getting there. I was, um.. wondering if you were going to be busy this afternoon?” You question, cringing at the way the words failed to come out as smoothly as you had originally intended. He scoffs at this, followed by a laugh. “You’re hilarious. What do you actually want from me?”

“..what do you mean? I’m asking if you have any plans for the rest of today.”

“Why? Is Kusanali being overly dependent on her little errand boy again? I would’ve thought she would tell me herself, not send some messenger.”

This causes you to cringe. Despite the immense progress he’s made, he still can’t comprehend the fact that there are people who actually care for him and don’t see him as just some sort of a tool. “Oh come on, is that really the conclusion you’re going to jump to?” You ask with a hand on your hip. “What other reasons could you possibly have for seeking me out? Don’t tell me you actually want to spend time with me?” He quirks an eyebrow in amusement as he crosses his arms. He enjoys messing with you, he really does. “And what if I do?” You respond with an equally smug expression, seemingly forgetting about your previous nervousness and relishing in the fact that you can lightheartedly tease each other like this. “Then I’d tell you that you’re a fool. I don’t see any possible way you could benefit from being around me.”

“Why do you do this? Is it really so difficult to imagine that people enjoy being around you? Haven’t you spent enough time around me to know I’m not joking?”

He sighs, half in exasperation and half in defeat. “So you’re really saying you came all the way out here because you want to waste your afternoon on me? If I agree to whatever escapade you have planned, will you leave me alone then?” His voice is only slightly, but definitely noticeably softer than it was before. “I wouldn’t call it a waste. Please give yourself some credit.” You insist. “Fine, I’ll indulge you this once. But I better not hear any more of this.” He says, only mildly displeased. You smile madly to yourself, biting a lip as you fight to contain yourself, at least for the time required to form your next sentence. “Okay well, I’m not letting you back out now. Can we agree to meet somewhere then?”

“..if you insist.”

And not much longer after that, the two of you had agreed to meet a few hours later in the evening outside of the Grand Bazaar. Zubayr Theater had planned that day to host a small festival in honor of what Nilou liked to call it’s “grand reopening”. Following recent events, the matra of the Akedemiya had decided to lay back on some of their laws and views regarding the arts, meaning that the theater was free to perform as openly as it liked, with some rules, of course. Needless to say, Nilou was absolutely ecstatic. She’d choreographed a whole show solely for the sake of reopening, and the streets of Sumeru City were plastered with all of the posters and flyers. Not only were you more than happy to come and support your good friend and her passions, you were also quite fond of the arts and always enjoyed a good performance. Not to mention it made a decent first date spot for two aspiring lovers. (“Date” was a strong word, and you were fully aware of the fact that a date was not what this was. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but daydream about such things.)

You’d graciously purchased a ticket for yourself as well as for him, much to his surprise. “And what if I hadn’t decided to show up? What would you do with your wasted money then?” He quirks as the two of you walk inside the theater, breathing in the scent of spices mixed with floral perfumes. “Well you’re here aren’t you? That means I don’t have to worry about that. But if for some crazy reason you did decide to ditch me, I’d just find some lucky unsuspecting stranger who’d appreciate a theater ticket much more.” You reply. “Of course you would. Always so generous.” He quips, not lacking his usual sarcasm. “Well what would you rather I do with it?” You question curiously. He scoffs. “That's not what I meant, your answer was fine. I’m just saying it’s so very like you.”

“Whatever, just come on. I think you might actually enjoy this, Nilou is very talented!” You chirp, skipping ahead to the doors of the auditorium, your enthusiasm showing right through. In truth, you had decided to bring him to a quiet place such as a theater as an excuse to not have to make too much conversation with him. The long performances would give you plenty of time to come up with what you were going to say once the time came. As guilty as it made you feel, you really only paid a fraction of attention to the lovely performance as your thoughts were lost elsewhere. It was finally beginning to dawn on you how anxious you really were, and a pool of regret starts forming in your chest as your mind conjures up all of the worst possible scenarios. He’s not exactly known for being the most compassionate person, so fear of rejection was only worse in this case. Would he ridicule you, or would he simply spit venom in your face like there’s no tomorrow? Either way, whether this night would turn out for the worse or for the better, you were too far in to turn back now. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

He didn’t seem to have much to say himself either, only making a snide remark as the curtains opened and remaining mostly silent for the rest of the performance. You’d almost say he was enamored with the dancers, watching them with a lovely sort of infatuation, almost as if he was also lost in his own little world. You find yourself continuously sneaking glances at him, whether to try and catch some sort of emotion on his face or simply just to look at him, you weren’t entirely sure. If he notices your constant little glances, he makes no comment. With a final flourish of sounds, music and lights that snaps you out of your anxiety-filled little daze, you zone back into the stage as the audience roars with applause and the curtains slowly come to a close. You breath in deep for your nose, realizing that you can no longer hide in the darkness and music of the theater. And for the first time since the beginning of the whole show, he speaks up. “You know, I might have doubted you a bit too much. It would be a lie to say that wasn’t a little enjoyable. You’re right, that girl does have some talent.”

Taking a minute to actually process that he was speaking to you, you blink a couple of times before turning to face him. “O-oh! See? I told you. Are you realizing now that you don’t always have to be so pessimistic?” He quirks an eyebrow at the way you appear to be so startled, but chooses to make no mention of it. “I hate to break it to you, but one night of little dance performances isn’t going to change my philosophy, no matter how much you want it to.” He chuckles as the two of you start to filter out with the rest of the crowd. “Maybe not tonight, but I bet one day I will.”

“Mhm. Good luck with that.”

By the time you exit the theater, the sun has almost completely gone down, only casting the city in the faintest remnants of orange and yellows. The ambience of the night can only be described as tranquil with the way it bathes the buildings in its warm purples and cooler blues. It fits him so well, you think. So well, you don’t even realize you’re staring. The moonlight illuminates the carefully sculpted features of his face, making him appear as if he were straight from one of the paintings of the masters. The artist clearly has a steady hand, with each brush stroke being carefully placed to exact precision, the colors fading into each other absolutely beautifully. It truly is a once in a lifetime experience to get the chance to lay eyes on somebody this breathtaking. You’re a sight for eyes, Kunimitsu. Are the words your brain decides to conjure up following this butterfly-inducing observation. But of course, such moments can only live so long as he decides to cut you off with a rather embarrassing reality check. “You’re staring. Something you want to say?”

The blush attacks your cheeks faster than you can even blink, eyes widening for but a moment. You’ve been caught red handed, nothing you can do about that. Instead of averting your gaze in shyness, you grasp tightly to that little sliver of confidence left from the beginning of this whole endeavor, using it as assistance for crafting your next words. “Hmm.. maybe there is.” The words fall out flawlessly, gaze never leaving his. And then there it is again, that familiar feeling of teeny tiny butterflies making themselves at home in the pit of your stomach with the way his eyes meet yours. “Then I think we should go find a place to sit. There’s… actually something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you as well.” He replies, with him being the one to break eye contact instead of you. If you strain your ears just hard enough, you swear he sounds uncharacteristically softer than usual, and you instantly wonder if he’s thinking the same thing you are. And with the way he immediately follows by tilting his hat down to cover his expression and quickens his pace, he has to be, you think. “Good. I wanted a drink, anyway.”

You imagine yourself being patted on the shoulder reassuringly, it’s truly now or never. You’re by yourself again, waiting in a surprisingly short line for lemonade. Disappointingly, the clearly under-staffed lemonade stand had quickly run out of many of the good flavors, including your favorite, zaytun peach. Deciding not to let it get you down, you settle on two glasses of plain lemonade, figuring that the Wanderer would prefer that kind anyway. You still hadn’t figured out what his deal was when it came to food. He didn’t seem like a picky eater, but he always grimaced anytime anyone made a comment regarding anything gooey and sweet. You hadn’t quite figured out if he hated all sweet things, or if it was just sweet things that also happened to be sticky… but no matter, if the citrus drink happened to not be to his liking, that was the least important concern on your mind at the moment. With annoyingly shaky hands and an increased heart rate, you take the two cool glasses of lemonade and make your way over to where your companion has already claimed a spot at a table, shaded and secluded away from the rest of the festival-goers.

You set the cups down, which he barely even acknowledges. Neither do you, practically forgetting about their entire existence the moment your legs hit the smooth wooden structure of the chair. He shifts in his seat, almost uncomfortably, you note, turning to face you. Much to your chagrin, he decides not to say anything, leaving the two of you in a dreadfully uncomfortable silence. “So-“

“You wanted to tell me something?” You interrupt. Truly you weren’t sure why, though it was most likely because you were trying to find some last minute way to further procrastinate your confession. He pauses for a moment, before inhaling sharply, followed by an unnecessarily long exhale. “I… suppose I do. I’ve given this quite a bit of thought, and I’ve decided that despite the way you annoy me and your persistent show of naivety, I still think you’d have a good outlook on my predicament.” Usually when he makes quips like this, you’d playfully roll your eyes, followed by a witty retort of your own. But it seems that at this point into the night, you’ve already spent up all your previously prepared confidence. Your hands are under the table, one finger working nonstop at picking a loose cuticle, already turning pink and uncomfortable and raw from the friction. “I’ll… try my best. What exactly is it?” Your voice comes out smaller than intended, and you wonder if he can sense your anticipation.

He makes an ‘ugh’ sound as his head drops forward, the bridge of his nose coming to land directly in between his pointer and thumb. “I just… I’m conflicted. I don’t…” This causes you to furrow your brows together at his odd display of vulnerability. It seems he’s at a loss for words, the first time you’ve ever witnessed such a thing. “About… what?” You query, clasping your hands together underneath the table. He squeezes his eyes shut and a forced exhale leaves his nose, and it’s the first time you think you’ve ever seen him willingly show that much emotion around you. “I’ve been… trying to come to terms with something as of late. And I’m just not understanding how all you mortals endure these kinds of things every day, it’s honestly appalling.” He lifts his head up from between his fingers, looking at you concernedly, as if he really was being honest about how he felt. “Okay, well first of all, I doubt that you actually feel things any less than the ordinary human, you just like to hide it. Second, what is it that’s bothering you even? You’re concerning me.” You comment. He scoffs. “The amount I feel is not the point. I am incredibly disturbed by this, and you are the only person I feel can advise me on what to do. You’re quite the expert on emotions, after all.”

You’re not quite sure whether he’s giving you a compliment or calling you emotional, but it didn’t matter. The fact that he’s even coming to you about something that clearly means so much to him hints at the fact that there might be some greater feeling lingering behind all of this. You’re about to open your mouth to ask once again what he means by all this, but he beats you to it, and you swear you see the apples of his cheeks turn a dusty rose color. “I keep having this reoccurring thought, about a person… that I may hold some sort of fondness for..”

Your breath hitches. This whole time your well-thought out (more like impulsive, but you digress) plan was to get him alone so that you would have to work up the courage on your own to confess to him. But now, was he going to do it for you? Would you be getting the happy ending you’d daydreamed about for so long? You zone out for the better part of his speech, attention only coming back for the last few words.

“…your friend, actually. You know, the one with the (color) hair? Surely you’ve noticed? That’s why I’m telling you, you’re the only one I feel even remotely comfortable with giving this information.”

What.

With those words, you swear you could literally feel your face turn white . Could you perhaps have misheard? Is he alluding to something else? It’s almost like you’re in denial. The only physical reaction this confession seems to get out of you is a blank stare, while your mind on the other hand is practically on a wild rampage. The man you love more than anything, more than life, more than the sun, more than yourself, sitting in front of you, telling you directly to your face that his heart belongs to somebody whose name is not yours. Whose whole persona you wish so dearly could be your own. And the audacity to ask for advice on what to do was really just the cherry on top. You feel absolutely mortified, like there’s a sizzling flame, a light in your stomach making you feel like you’d vomit the entirety of your organs at any given moment. He couldn’t possibly be lying either, with the way his whole demeanor seems to change to a completely different person when he speaks about her. He seems so oddly vulnerable telling you about how he feels. At the very least, he trusts you more than most to be so willingly sharing his thoughts with you. That’s something, at least.

After a short moment too long of silence, you blink away your surprise, putting on a soft expression that reads ‘congratulations, I’m so happy for you’ despite the ache forming in your heart. “Ah, is that so? You know, I think it’s great you’re allowing yourself this. She’s a beautiful girl, I’m sure she loves you just as much.” Gods, that hurt more than anything else you’ve ever had to say before. He pauses for a moment before speaking again, and you fear it’s because he’s noticed your trepidation. “You’re very perceptive for a mortal, you know. That much I’ve picked up on, if not anything else. So is that really what you think then? That she could really harbor any sort of affection for me, despite what I’ve done?” And if that doesn’t hurt even more. The first reason being that he clearly loves this girl even deeper than you’d originally thought, the second being that he still believes himself to be so inherently undesirable that he has to ask you for confirmation that another could love him back. And of course he’s lovable, he’s literally taken your very soul and intertwined it with his own.

“Kunimitsu, how could she not? Do you really not see anything in yourself of any value? Of course you’re loved. Despite what you think of yourself, and what you think others should think, you are meant to be cared for just as you are. I- she can see the way you’ve changed, and your efforts to heal and become better. If someone like you cares for her, there isn’t any possible way you aren’t dear to her as well.” The reason these words come out so easily can only be explained by the feelings you harbor so deeply for him. Maybe it sounds too much like a confession of your own, and despite trying to make yourself believe you say it for his own good, you know deep down it’s really because you want to relieve some of that ache for yourself. He looks at you in a relieved sort of way, almost endearing, yet still not fully believing. “Do I really deserve this..?” His eyes are by far the softest you’ve ever seen as he practically begs you to confirm it for him again. And damn it if you didn’t love him so much, if you weren’t so eager to please him. “You do. You really, truly do.” If only he knew how good you’d treat him if you were the one he longed for. If only he knew how hot your flame burned for him, if only he knew the way you longed to hold, caress, and simply just love him. And so you decide you can bear to look at him no longer, lest you break down in tears. “It’s getting a bit late, I think. I hope you think about what I told you. Good night, Kuni.”

You stand up, not really caring anymore if you seemed to end the night too abruptly. Maybe it was selfish to leave just like that, and maybe he could tell you were upset, but none of that mattered. Right now, you really wanted to just put yourself first for once. Nearly the instant you consider yourself far enough away from him or anyone else, you begin to break down. You roughly cover your mouth with the palm of your hand to cover the sound of a pathetic little sob that escapes your vocal chords. A shaky inhale follows as large droplets of salty tears quickly make their way down your cheeks from the corners of your eyes. Your other arm wraps around your midsection at a subconscious attempt at self comfort. You collapse against the slide of a building, sliding down the wall until you’re fully seated on the ground, allowing your emotions to fully take a hold of you. For what feels almost never ending, you cry and cry and cry until you don’t have it in you to produce anything more. You take another shaky breath, whether to calm yourself down or to replace all the oxygen lost, you’re not sure. It doesn’t really help either way.

After several more minutes of just sitting there, hugging your knees to your chest and looking up absentmindedly at the night sky, quite literally contemplating everything about your life, you’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sounds of soft footsteps coming down the cobblestone road. You panic, desperately not wanting anyone to see you in such a state. Upon further inspection, the sounds of the approaching person become clearer. It sounds as if the owner isn’t wearing any shoes. Instead, there’s also the faintest sound of jingling bells. Turning your head slightly to the side, you catch a glimpse of exactly who seems to be approaching, and you sigh in relief. You actually wouldn’t mind a little company from this person, if they even notice you hiding in the depths of your despair. The little dendro archon strolls casually down the street, seeming to be thinking of nothing but how tranquil the ambience is. Part of you wants to step out from your hiding place and greet her, the other urging you to curl away even further. Neither of the thoughts win, resulting in you staying exactly where you are.

The white-haired little sprout hums an old Sumeruen tune as she bounces on the balls of her feet, not a care in the world. Your heart warms a little at the sight. Just as the thought finishes passing through your love-sick mind, she cocks her head to the side, noticing your presence. With a little pleased gasp, she bounces right over to you. “(Name), I’ve been looking all over for you! Why are you sitting all alone?”

You give her a smile, only half attempting to conceal your distress. You don’t really want her to question you about your misfortune, yet at the same time, it would feel really nice to tell somebody you trusted as much as her about it. “Hi, Nahida. I’m just taking a breather, I guess. It’s really nice out tonight, isn’t it?” Your voice is soft and smooth, as it usually is when making conversation with her. “It is indeed! I was just out taking a walk myself. My intention was actually to find you, I was wondering if you had made it to the festival. It seems I ended up getting a bit distracted… so I’d say it’s actually quite lucky I managed to run into you here. Silly me!” She sits down next to you, bells rustling against each other. Her short legs stick out straight and she rests her hands atop her lap. “You were looking for me? What for exactly?” You curiously ask, resting your cheek on the palm of your hand while your head turns to look at her. Your eyelashes are still clustered together in little points as a result of the river of tears just a few minutes prior.

She taps a finger against her chin, a typical habit of hers reserved for thinking. “To be honest… I don’t think I really had a reason. I was just seeking your company! Ever since I met you and the traveler, I’ve found that I quite enjoy spending time with my friends.” This elicits a giggle from you. She didn’t even intend for it to be a compliment, her comment was pure honesty. But nevertheless it succeeded in making you feel a little better to know that you were on her mind, even if she had no idea what you were feeling at the moment. “Well I’m glad you found me then. Did you go to the festival today?”

“No, I didn’t get the chance to. But…” She trails off, giving you a puzzled yet concerned expression.

“Is there something on your mind? I know I’m not an expert yet on human emotions, but I feel as if you are acting differently than you normally do.”

She sits patiently, waiting for a response. True, she had a bit of a hard time contemplating the more complex emotions of humans, but she was still one of the most empathetic people you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

You sigh, might as well tell her the truth. “Nahida, I… you’re right. I am thinking about something. I just don’t know exactly how to tell you..” Your gaze falls down, suddenly you become more interested in picking at your cuticles than the inquisitive girl beside you. She hums in understanding. “I see...” She sits in silence, words failing to find her. They don’t seem to come to you either.

“..shall I read your mind? Not to intrude, but do you think it would help? Would you like me to know what’s wrong?” She pressed, almost carefully. After a bit of trial and error, the young archon had learned that most people don’t appreciate being bluntly asked for their feelings. So, she’d learned to take things with a bit more heed. Any other day, you probably would have laughed, telling her not to worry herself over you. But, thanks to none other than Nahida herself, you’d begun to slowly become a bit more open with how you felt. She’d advised, after reading some self-help book on managing emotions, that you start telling people when you felt something that made you hurt. And as honestly awkward as it was, it was helping. In lieu of a response, you nod your head in answer to her question with a small ‘mhm’ sound, the words once again failing to come to you.

She nods her head as well, giving your shoulder a gentle pat before ever so softly taking your hand in both of hers, treating it as if it were a fragile glass ornament. She gives it a soft kiss before grasping it more firmly, shutting her eyelids before beginning the process of entering your consciousness. Without even trying, you replay the events of earlier that afternoon in your mind, cringing the whole way through. It brought a tough sort of ache into your chest, sort of like bread dough with too much flour. After only a few more seconds of replaying painful scenes and holding your breath without even realizing, she opens her eyes, but chooses not to release your hand just yet. When her expression meets yours, it can only be described as sorrowfully compassionate.

“Oh…” Is the only sound that escapes her lips. You smile sadly and attempt to laugh in order to lighten the mood, regretting it instantly the second the noise emitted from your throat turns into a sob. You cover your mouth with your hand as the tears return yet again. Nahida stands on her knees to better reach you, wrapping her small arms around your shoulders, patting your back comfortingly. “I am so, so, so sorry (Name). If only I had known… he hadn’t even told me about his feelings for her.” She coos. Speaking through your tears, you make an attempt to defend her position. “It’s not- It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” You let your head hang low with no more energy left to hold it high.

“You know that I’ve never experienced such heartbreak personally, but I can imagine it hurts just as much as you say. Please don’t start to think anything less of yourself because of this, you are still perfect.” She lifts herself from the embrace, holding your head in both of her hands. You look up at her with tear stained cheeks that glisten in the moonlight, giving a watery laugh. “Nahida, you are so nice to me. You think you don’t understand emotions, but you still care about mine more than a lot of people I’ve met.”

“It’s my duty as the Archon of Sumeru, isn’t it? I must attend to all the needs of my people. Political, physical, and I also believe emotional. And as one of my newfound friends, I need to take care of you too.” She smiles, resembling that of a proud child after their mother congratulated them on a well-earned school grade. It makes you smile too. “I guess it is then. Thank you, Nahida. You are really a good friend.”

“And so are you! Now, I want you to promise me something, okay? Go to bed tonight as soon as you can, get lots of good rest. And tomorrow make sure to eat a healthy breakfast and get lots of sunshine. Sunshine is proven to lift moods significantly! Can you do that for me?” She counsels, this time resembling that of a mother caring for her ill child. You nod in agreement. “Sure. I’ll try my best.” You know full well agreeing to her worried demands was only to make her happy. Truthfully, you’re not sure for how long this heartbreak will plague your mind. It’s not everyday the love of your life blatantly states to your face that they love somebody who isn’t you. Some people would get angry when faced with a situation like this. Angry at the boy, angry at the other. Angry at themselves, even. But as of right now, you can’t find it in you to be angry. The feeling lingering behind from the shipwreck only seems to be a deep sort of pain, the kind that hollows out your chest and resides deep in the darkest of corners, it’s shadows seeping out to infest every single inch of you. Despite the sunshine peeking in, maybe from the kind words of a friend such as Nahida, the shadows don’t seem all that repulsed by it. When you were younger, you once told yourself you weren’t interested in the idea of falling in love. After reading so many books, nothing about the topic ever appealed to you. But as most people know, lives hardly go as they are planned, hardly follow along with the intentions. You hadn’t meant to fall in love with him, you hadn’t even tried. And maybe that’s what made it hurt so bad, because it seemed the universe had surprised you with a gift so lovely. You accepted, because who wouldn’t turn down such a generous item? Only to find out the universe had made a mistake, that lovely present tied with a satin bow was not in fact made for you, but rather instead for the lovely person next door with sparkling eyes like diamonds and a heart of gold.

Right now, your eyes feel much too clouded to even have a chance at sparkling, and your heart too heavy to be made of anything but black, crumbling coal. Maybe you’ll get over him, or maybe you won’t. Maybe this will be the kind of first love that stays by your side the rest of your life, the kind you tell stories to your grandchildren about when they ask you if you’ve ever been in love. Or maybe the fates will have a change of heart and decide to grant you the wish you’ve been so desperately clinging on to. Either way, you love him. And there will always be a part of you that hopes, maybe, he’ll love you too.

#genshin impact #wanderer #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #DID YOU SEE WHAT I DID WITH THE LEMONADE #IM SO PROUD #i’m gonna go back and proofread this again cause i think i missed some stuff :(

90 notes · View notes

hyunjins-orange-slice-too · 3 months

Text

Connected ch1

pairing: chan x reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: ~1.3k

synopsis: upset reader comments on chans room, chan sees it and privately reaches out to reader to comfort them.

warnings: crying, brief mention of dying (like as a joke), christopher using his rizz, i think that’s all?

an: this is a repost from my recently deceased blog hyunjins-orange-slice. may she rest in peace. this was originally a request from a moot but now has turned into a full series!

masterlist * next chapter

your phone dinged with a notification. wiping the tears from your cheeks, you pick up the device.

youtube: Stray Kids is Live- 찬이의 “방” 🐺 ep.209

you clicked on the link. the screen shows the studio, chans empty chair, the chat moving so quickly you struggle to read it, and FAM plays softly in the background.

you prop your phone up on the pillow next to you, curling your body on its side, sniffling still but finding comfort in the livestream.

as the song comes to an end, chan takes his seat. “안녕하세요“ he sing songs, smiling. and you smile too.

the live goes on for a little over an hour, and by the end of it you’re feeling a bit better. but you have a sneaking suspicion that once the video ends, so will your happiness. even the thought of that steals away some of your joy.

“stayyy im going to go.” he says. “감사합니다“

he waits a moment as more comments roll in. he reads through them.

‘no don’t go!’ ‘bye channie! remember to rest and eat well!’. ‘사랑해요~~’ ‘big hug??’

you read through the chat the best you could, and you normally don’t comment. but today you weren’t having the best day and his live really helped you, if only for a moment. so you click on the chat bar and begin typing.

“chan, im having a pretty rough day today, but your big hugs always help! thank you for this livestream ❤️”

you hesitated for a moment. reading your comment over and over, wondering if it sounded too cheesy. you decided that it totally sounded too cheesy, but the live was ending and what are the odds of him seeing it anyway? so you press send.

he’s still looking down at his phone, reading the comments.

“you’re having a rough day?” he reads aloud, looking up into the camera. your stomach dropped, and the eye contact was making you blush. “i’m sorry you’re having a bad day.” he pouted. “i’m glad i could help a little.” he smiles and then stands. “for everyone who’s having a bad day, or for anyone who may want one, let’s do a hug” he spreads his arms out wide, “biiiig hugggg” he says, leaning toward the screen.

you knew the smile on your face was goofy as hell, but you didn’t care. you couldn’t help it. he sat back down and said his outro, thanking the stays and doing his signature pose, and then the screen went black.

the smile stayed on your face for longer than you expected. but then the day came crashing back to you, the same thoughts, the same fears plaguing your brain. you let out a sad sigh. you could feel the tears coming on again, so you grabbed your switch, deciding you would try to occupy your brain with video games so you wouldn’t be thinking about your life (mood).

you played for hours, your thumbs moving furiously over the joysticks, until eventually you fell into a fitful sleep. you awoke in the middle of the night from yet another nightmare, your heart beating out of your chest, your face and pillow wet with your tears. you reach for your phone in the darkness to check the time. 2am. but that’s not the only thing you see on your screen. you have an instagram messenger notification. you were instantly confused. no one ever messages you on instagram. you cautiously opened the app and clicked the messages in the top corner. what you saw next had your heart seizing. you had accepted your fate. this was how you died and honestly.. you were okay with it. because on your screen, staring back at you, was a message from bang chan. like thee bang chan. like christopher bahng himself. complete with blue check mark and all.

you sat bolt upright in bed, suddenly not sleepy at all but at full attention. you clicked on his message.

“hey this might be weird.. and im not even sure if you’re the right person im looking for. but this picture and username matches the one on youtube?” -9:04pm

“is that weird? it’s weird.” -9:06pm

“i’m sorry ㅋㅋ“ -9:07pm

“did you comment on a live stream of mine that you were having a bad day? if not, this is totally embarrassing and ignore this.” -9:08pm

“oh, you’re probably sleeping” -9:30pm

“sorry again.” -9:31pm

•

you chuckled at his messages. they seemed very… chan. but then the realization hit you. do you message him back? of course you do. every stay dreams of this moment. so you should send him a message. right? yes. definitely reply. but what do you say?

‘oh my god’ you type and erase. ‘yeah that’s me’ erase ‘i’m such a big fan’ erase ‘sorry if i bothered you’ erase

damn this was hard. what do you even say to a famous person?

hands shaking, you settle on a response and type it out before taking a deep breath and hitting send.

“you found me! totally not weird. and yeah i commented on chans room. today wasn’t the best but you made it so much better. thank you!” -2:38am

after you sent the message, you couldn’t stop yourself from reading it over and over, analyzing everything you said. you had decided it was a weird message and you shouldn’t have sent it. you were about to freak out when he responded.

“i’m glad you were the right person! i’m relieved ㅋㅋ” -2:45am

“i just wanted to check in with you. make sure you’re okay. if that’s okay.” -2:45am

you couldn’t believe this. he’s so sweet for checking on you. your heart swelled. you quickly typed out a response to him, knowing his time is valuable and probably limited at this moment.

“that’s so nice of you. i’m doing okay. i distracted myself with video games. haha.” -2:48am

“well i did until i fell asleep and had a nightmare.” -2:48am

“you had a nightmare? i’m sorry to hear that.” -2:50am

“i wish i could go live every time you needed me.” -2:50am

he is literally the sweetest human and you thought you may cry.

“you don’t have time for that. you’re so so busy. one hour with you earlier helped me so much, truly. you’ve already done so much.” -2:53am

“not if you’re having nightmares.” -2:55am

“that’s not your fault tho, chan.” -2:56am

“chan?” -2:57am

“sounds so formal. ㅋㅋ” -2:57am

“well.. that’s your name. so… haha” -2:58am

“i think i prefer channie. ㅋㅋ” -3:00am

“or you can just call me your boyfriend.” -3:00am

you squealed and giggled, kicking your feet under your covers. he did not just say that.

“maybe i should just call you chrizztopher.” -3:02am

“ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ” -3:03am

“that works too. ㅋㅋ” -3:03am

“i’m sorry, but i have to go now. busy busy.” 3:04am

your heart fell a little, but you know how busy he is and you got more time with him than most people, so you were happy.

“that’s okay! thank you for checking on me. it was very kind. ❤️” -3:06am

“oooh hearts. i like hearts. ❤️❤️❤️” -3:07am

“good night. and if you have another nightmare, message me. i’ll have my notifications on.” -3:07am

you had the thought that the world does not deserve bang chan. and what did you do to deserve him? you felt so lucky.

“thank you channie. don’t work too hard.” -3:08am

and then he was gone. off to record some music, or write some music, or take some pictures, or do an interview, you didn’t know. but you fell back asleep with a smile on your face and for the first time in a long time, you slept through the night.

to be added to the taglist for this series, just let me know.

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

#stray kids #stray kids bang chan #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan stray kids #bang chan fluff #bang chan hurt/comfort #connected series #hyunjins orange slice too

45 notes · View notes

andreafmn · 5 months

Text

12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 7

Word Count: 3.8K Paring: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader Prompt: n/a Warnings: mentions of death and terminal illness

Summary: Grief can be a powerful thing. And that is something both (Y/N) and Wanda can attest to. The only difference in their experience? They are from two very different universes.

A/N: whoops, another very sad and angsty with a slight happy ending... can't believe this Christmas has been more gloomy than fluffy

<- Previous | Next ->

The mind has always been a very powerful thing. It’s easy to become trapped in the illusions and delusions the brain feeds you, especially in moments of grief. And Wanda knew grief. She knew it like the back of her hand. It had been engrained into the very fabric of her being from a young age. It was the unwanted companion she carried through her life. The kind of parasite that consumed your being until there was nothing left.

Yet, she also knew power.

She knew there was meant to be a balance in the universe. That certain spells and incantations could not be done without creating a shift in the paradigm. But there was no way she could go on without even trying. Not anymore.

“Momma! Momma! Wake up!”

(Y/N) could feel her bed shake as she attempted to keep her eyes shut. The exhaustion of the past few months had caught up to her, and all she wanted was to rest. But she knew her kids would not stop until she left that bed and followed them to the Christmas tree, even if there was nothing harder than going through the holiday without her wife.

“Momma,” Tommy groaned as he pushed her arm. “We know you’re awake.”

“Yeah,” Billy chuckled. “Your eyelids are moving.”

“Mmm, guys,” the woman whined. “I thought we were sleeping in this Christmas. You know momma’s tired.”

“But we did sleep in. It’s 10 o’clock!”

“Okay, boys,” she sighed, finally opening her eyes to see her twin boys towering over her with gleaming smiles on their faces. “Can I at least get a morning hug first?”

The boys giggled as they jumped on their mother, wrapping their little arms around her body. And it made everything she was going through worth it. She kissed the top of their heads and held them as close as she could. They were a part of the one thing that was missing that morning, but she knew she had to remain strong, at least for them.

“I love you boys so much,” she said into their hair. “You’re my entire world.”

(Y/N) got up from her bed, covered her pjs with her wife’s red robe, and followed her kids down the stairs. But where the boys wanted to rush into the living room, she walked to the kitchen. “You know we have to have breakfast first,” she called out with a chuckle. “But we’ll have a quick one since it’s already so late.”

“Pancakes!” the boys chorused in a sing-song voice. “We want pancakes!”

“Pancakes it is,” she laughed. “Tommy, you get the plates. And, Billy, you get the whipped cream and the syrup.”

The kids did their tasks as (Y/N) made pancake after pancake, making a small stack for the three of them to enjoy. She could feel sadness try to creep into her head, clawing its way to the forefront of her mind as she saw her sons happily setting the table for three rather than four that time. But even as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, she knew she had to be strong. At least for one more day, she had to be strong.

Holding a stack of pancakes in one hand and a plate of bacon in the other, (Y/N) made her way to the dining table. She set the food in the center before filling the kids' plates with their requests—two pancakes with bacon mouths and chocolate chip eyes for Billy and a stack of three pancakes doused in syrup with three slices of bacon on top for Tommy. She even attempted to make the perfect whipped cream swirl on both of their plates, but, as they always reminded her all but that one morning, it was never as good as Mommy Wanda’s.

But before they could delve into their meal, a knock at the door startled them. They weren’t expecting anyone. Especially not that very Christmas morning. Yet, at their front door stood someone they could have never imagined would appear.

“Who’s at the door, momma?” Billy asked curiously. “Were you expecting someone?”

“Mm, not precisely,” she answered. “Should we go see who it is?”

“Yes!” the boys exclaimed as they jumped from their chairs.

They followed their mother eagerly to the door, holding onto her legs just in case it was someone they didn’t know. But their little hearts had one wish —the only thing that could make their Christmas morning perfect. As (Y/N) turned the locks and then the doorknob, they held their breaths and they wished.

“Wanda,” (Y/N) found herself saying, but she wasn’t sure the sound had come from her throat. The cold morning air told her that she was awake and that the person standing before her was truly there. “Wanda.”

As she repeated the woman’s name under her breath, Billy and Tommy let out a gleeful yell of “Mommy!” before leaving their safe space from behind (Y/N) and running to embrace their other mother. The redhead welcomed them with open arms, kneeling on the ground to meet their heights. She wrapped them in a tight hug, breathing in their scent as though it was the very first time. She reveled in their warmth and their laugh as she committed to memory their small arms around her.

“You’re home, Mommy,” Billy sighed.

“Now Christmas is perfect,” Tommy added.

And all (Y/N) could do was stare at the scene unfolding before her. She watched as tears formed in her wife’s green eyes, watched as her boys hugged her like it was the first time they had seen their mother. And, in a sense, it was.

“(Y/N),” Wanda smiled as she finally stood after leaving their sons’ embrace. She cradled her face and kissed the woman’s lips tenderly, feeding her breaths of love and affection they had both missed for a very long time. “It’s so good to be home.”

“It’s good to have you home,” the woman responded as though breaking out of a trance. “Come inside. Come inside. You must be freezing out there.”

“I can’t believe you’re here, Mom,” Billy smiled. “We thought you wouldn’t be able to make it in time.”

“But we did wish really hard for it,” Tommy added with a nod. “It was even on our Christmas list.”

“Well, it looks like all that wishing paid off,” Wanda beamed as she cradled their faces. “I’m here now, and we’re gonna have the best Christmas ever!”

“Yeah!” the boys unisoned before Tommy said, “We’re having breakfast right now. Do you want pancakes, mommy?”

“Not right now, baby,” she said as she smoothed down his hair. “Mommy’s tummy is not feeling very good right now.”

“How about you guys finish up your pancakes while I make mommy some coffee?” (Y/N) said with a smile. “The faster we finish eating, the faster we can get to open presents.”

The boys didn’t need to be told twice as they sped back to the dining table to gobble their breakfast down. Meanwhile, Wanda followed (Y/N) into the kitchen and accepted gracefully the steaming mug of coffee she handed her. The liquid burned the woman’s throat comfortingly, filling her mouth with a taste she had missed. Maybe it was the coffee, or maybe it was the fact that she was finally surrounded by family, but it was the best cup she had ever drank.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were discharged?” (Y/N) whispered. “I could have picked you up from the hospital.”

“Oh, well, I wanted to surprise you and the boys,” Wanda smiled softly. “With it being Christmas and all, I didn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Just knowing that you’re out of the hospital is enough for me, darling. You could never be an inconvenience,” she said as she took Wanda’s free hand. But she noticed something missing from it, something she would have never taken off. “Where’s your ring, babe? I could have sworn you still had it on yesterday.”

The redhead inspected her hand, rapidly noticing the lack of jewelry. But with no real reason, she had to scramble for an answer. “Oh, I don’t know,” she worried. “I could have sworn I had it on when I left this morning. Maybe I left it at the hospital.”

“We’ll call later then. I don’t think the kids will care much that mom lost her ring when they’re ready to open presents,” (Y/N) chuckled as she pointed to Tommy’s and Billy’s expectant faces. “We’ve made them wait long enough.”

The couple walked hand in hand toward the living room, the boys running past them as they chuckled and sat right in front of the tree. They knew the routine already. Momma had to set up the phone while Mommy handed each of them the presents, each with a specific wrapping paper to hide which gift belonged to which kid. The women had learned a long time before that their kids had a proclivity for snooping around before Christmas day.

But that year, Wanda didn’t know which wrapping paper belonged to whom. Instead, she took the phone from (Y/N)’s hands, mouthed an apology, and sat back down on the couch. With a slight chuckle, the other woman knelt before the Christmas tree and took a gift in each hand –green wrapping for Tommy and blue for Billy.

In a matter of minutes, the wooden floor was filled with a mix of wrapping paper, and the air was filled with the sounds of new toys and laughter. Which lasted all but an hour before the kids started coming down from their sugar high and decided a movie was a better way to spend their lunchtime.

The boys sat with their trays on the couch, happily eating their sandwiches as they watched Elf for the thousandth time just that week. If they ever sensed that there was anything amiss, they didn’t say a word. To them, everything was perfect. It seemed so, too.

“Hey, don’t know if your brother got around to telling you, but he’s gonna get here the day after tomorrow,” (Y/N) said as she mixed a bowl of cookie dough. “I asked him not to bring more Nerf guns for the boys, but I’m scared he might use that as an excuse to get them another type of blaster.”

“Pietro?” Wanda gasped quietly. “He’s coming here?”

“Of course,” the woman chuckled. “He comes every Christmas day… well, Christmas-adjacent day like he says. But seriously, I need you to tell him no more blasters. I keep finding those darn foam darts everywhere.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell him,” the redhead smiled. “I’ve missed him.”

“I know, baby,” (Y/N) said as she cradled her wife’s cheek. “He wanted to stay longer during Thanksgiving, but he had some deadlines to meet at work and had to get going. But he’ll be thrilled to know you’re out of the hospital and back home.”

“It’s good to be home.”

“Good,” she smiled. “Now, you can help me get these cookies in the oven for tonight.”

Wanda had missed the warmth of family. She had missed her boys fighting over whose turn it was to play with a toy, missed the smell of a homecooked meal. Most of all, she missed the soft touch of her wife, missed the way her name sounded coming from her lips. Wanda had missed her life.

During dinner, she couldn’t help the smile on her face. As the boys boasted loudly about their last week of school, she could only sit and stare at their beautiful faces. Everything they said was new information, and they were the most precious words she could hear. And when (Y/N) chimed in, she was sure no orchestra could ever compare to the symphony of her family’s voices.

“Alright, boys,” (Y/N) said as she placed the last dish into the dishwasher. “Give Mommy a kiss and head on up. Shower, teeth, and bed.”

“But, Momma,” they whined.

“It’s Christmas,” Tommy finished.

“Tomorrow is a whole new day to do whatever you want, but right now, it’s time for bed,” the woman countered. “Come on, guys.”

“It’s Christmas, darling,” Wanda whispered as she snaked her arms around (Y/N)’s waist and kissed her neck. “I think they’ve got one more movie in them.”

“Baby…”

“Come on, darling,” she smiled. “For me?”

“Fine,” (Y/N) relented, and the kids cheered. “One movie, and then it’s off to bed for both of you.”

The boys raced back to the living room, pulling out blankets and pillows before settling themselves on both ends of the couch, tapping beside each other for their mothers to sit. It was the most excited (Y/N) had seen them in a long time. They knew Wanda had been sick for a long time but couldn’t quite grasp why she couldn’t be home or they couldn’t be at the hospital after a certain time. But they were hopeful that their mother would make a full recovery. And it was their faith that kept her strong —as strong as she could be in the situation.

Wanda sat next to Billy, and (Y/N) sat next to Tommy before the kids laid their heads on their mothers’ laps and covered themselves with a warm fuzzy blanket. On the TV, Home Alone played at a low volume. (Y/N) knew the boys were tired, and as their mothers ran their hands through their hair, no matter how action-packed the movie was, they would fall asleep soon enough.

Halfway through the movie, the kids’ soft snores mixed with the audio, making the women chuckle slightly. “I knew they wouldn’t last,” (Y/N) whispered as she kissed Tommy’s head. “They’ve been up since long before ten.”

“I’m just glad I got to spend this time with them… with you. You have no idea how much I’ve missed this.”

“I might have some idea.” The woman’s tone hinted at something Wanda couldn’t quite comprehend. Her brows furrowed as she found a knowing glimmer in her wife’s eyes. “I know you’re not our Wanda.”

“W-what? What do you mean?” The redhead sputtered. Could it be? “How could I not be Wanda?”

“I don’t really know how you’re here or even why,” (Y/N) started with a soft smile. “But my wife would have remembered that Tommy’s wrapping paper was blue and Billy’s was green because she chose those colors. She would have remembered that Pietro comes every 27th of December and calls it second Christmas because it can’t be a holiday without him. And she wouldn’t have left the hospital without turning it upside down if she didn’t have her ring because my mother gave it to her. But most importantly, my Wanda died not even twenty-four hours ago, and she died in my arms.”

“I… oh, I’m so sorry… I…”

“It’s okay. I’m not mad or even scared,” she said as she felt warm tears fall down her cheeks. “I don’t care what reason you could’ve had to be here. I’m just grateful that the boys had another day with their mom. It’s been a couple of months since she first got admitted to the hospital, and after that, it’s just been a whirlwind. The kids kept their faith that she’d get better, but that’s because she would put on a brave face every time they visited. But she wasn’t good.

“She had been in remission for almost four years from pancreatic cancer, but all of a sudden it came back. And it came with a vengeance,” (Y/N) cried. “By the time we even noticed any symptoms, the doctor told us it had spread to her liver and her lungs, and it would take a very aggressive approach even to try to contain it. But by October, she collapsed and had to be admitted to the hospital, where we were told that they’d do everything they could, but the prognosis wasn’t great. She was growing weaker by the day, trying to put a brave face on for me and the kids. But I knew…”

Her words died in her throat as a violent sob tried to escape her, but the last thing she wanted was to wake her kids. Telling Wanda’s story was odd when her literal doppelgänger was staring her in the face. But there was comfort in finally telling someone the truth. And as that Wanda squeezed her hand in comfort, all she could do was finish the story.

“I knew she was going to die,” (Y/N) continued. “She was in so much pain and discomfort, but she was holding on for us. For months, as selfish as it was, I begged her not to die. I begged her to keep fighting, and she did. She fought like the warrior she was.

But it was hurting her. Fighting to stay was killing her spirit.” The pain in (Y/N)’s voice shattered Wanda. Sitting before her was the love of her life crumbling after the passing of her own partner, and all she had been thinking about was how happy she was to have her back —to have her family back. “I told her a few weeks ago, when it was only us, that if she felt it was her time, that she should let go. She had fought long and hard; now, it was time to rest. At around one in the morning today, she finally did. I was lying beside her, her body so thin and frail in my arms, and she took her last breath. It was so late by the time I got home that I simply got into bed and decided to tell the kids tomorrow about their mom. I wanted them to at least have one last Christmas thinking that she was still alive.

“And then you walked through the doors and, where I should have been terrified, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. For a second, I thought someone out there had granted me a Christmas wish and had brought her back. Or maybe that her passing had only been a horrible nightmare. But it didn’t take long before I knew.”

“Oh, (Y/N), I had no idea you had gone through all of this. And everything is still so fresh,” Wanda said through tears. “I promise I didn’t mean to cause any distress by showing up. The truth is, I’ve gone through a similar grief as you have, and that’s what brought me all the way here. But if I had known that my presence would have caused more harm than good, I…”

“No. Seriously, Wanda. You bring here has honestly been a breath of fresh air,” the woman assured, taking the redhead’s hands into hers. “I don’t know how long you plan to be here or if this even meant much to you. But even if it was just for today, you gave my boys their mom back. And you gave me my beautiful wife back for another day. And for that, I will eternally be grateful. All I ask is that, if you are going, that you let the boys say goodbye. I want them to have some kind of closure, at least.”

Wanda knew she shouldn’t have promised anything. She had promised herself that she’d only watch them from afar at first. Then, as she saw her family through the window, she had to be with them for the holiday, at least. But she literally had them in her arms now, and there was no way she could let them go. No matter the price.

“What if I wanted to stay forever?” the witch tested the waters. “If there was a way for me to stay here, would it be okay if I did? Even if it’s just on a probationary period, I would love to be a part of a family again –this family.”

“I-is that possible? Could you really stay here?”

“Yes. There is a way for me to stay. But only if you want that.”

“I just… I don’t know how to have you here without completely undermining the life I had with my Wanda,” (Y/N) confessed. “I mean, you look exactly like her –from the color of your hair to your eyes. You laugh just like her. You practically are her. The only difference? We had a life with her, not you. I don’t want you to just replace the boys’ mom like that. I couldn’t…”

“Of course, and I’d never want to do anything like that. I know how hard it is to lose someone that you love so much. I know the pain and the overwhelming grief. I also know the anger and the craziness that takes over.”

“Who did you lose? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I lost everyone,” she answered with a sad smile. “First, I lost my parents. Then, I lost Pietro after spending my whole life by his side. After that, I found my you in that world, and everything seemed worth it. But you died by sacrificing yourself to save the Earth, and I was alone. Truly and completely alone. Then, after some kind of almost unbelievable things, I had you back and I had Tommy and Billy. My life was perfect for a time until that was taken from me again. So, I came here.”

“Oh, Wanda. I… I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.”

“I searched millions of universes before I found this one. I thought you had no me here, but it didn’t cross my mind that you had lost her. And so recently, too,” Wanda said, squeezing (Y/)’s hand comfortingly. “So, I understand if your answer is no. I’m just glad I got to see you and the boys one more time and that you embraced me so fully for today. But, just say the word, and I’m gone, zhizn moya.”

At the sound of that name, (Y/N)’s breath hitched in her throat. Tears streamed from her eyes faster than she could stop them, and her heart hammered against her chest. “That name,” she whimpered. “That’s what she would call me. My life. How did you…?”

“That’s what I called you in my world,” the redhead smiled. “And you would call me…”

“Dusha moya. The only phrase I ever learned in Russian, much to her dismay,” (Y/N) grinned. “I guess our lives are not as different as I may have thought… A trial period, you said?”

“Yes, however long it takes to ease into life here.”

“But, what about my Wanda? There is still a version of you that died today.”

“If you can trust me, I could handle all of that.”

“A trial period then,” the woman smiled before kissing Wanda’s knuckles. “I think we could try.”

And that was all Wanda needed to hear. She would collapse every universe that existed if she could preserve the life she could have in that one. And it all started with America Chavez’s power. Even if it took the lives of everyone in her way, she would make sure she was able to stay on that Earth. After all, it had been her sons’ Christmas wish.

Next ->

My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts or buy me a coffee to support me and my love of writingIf you’d like to be tagged in every 12DoF work, any fandom or story: click hereMake sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

Taglist: @winter-soldier-101@zheezs14@clementinesjourney@dyslexiccatterpillar@cevans-winchester@sirenheadenby @sunsetcurvej @sapnapsbandana @skyesthebomb@esposadomd @this-is-a-bad-idea @nocturnalherb16 @blueshoelaces@then-worship-at-my-altar@six-call@yuki254@nyenye @lunaOoO @avis15 @captainrogers-19 @honeylovemoon@wonieeee@supernaturalwriter @beckiej0073-blog @cecehensonn @krazyk99@klf1999@ilikepunsbeth@magimtz23@adaydreamaway08@hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel@thatgirljayy @laylaskywalker @fandomonetwo@fruitylilfuck @a-slut-for-loki-bucky @monbrss @honeywxter @haroldpotterson@kaita11 @gangstalicious06 @uwunuggetchan@elijahssuit @multifandomreader73 @shara-ne@blackloveangel13@euphoria1992@saltedcoffeescotch @thecollectorofwords @gabi-princesada1d @zealouscookierebeltrash@sleepilysworld@aonungsfreak@treatiseofselena@brittany-appleyard24@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @smolalien13 @jstarr86@mzmarvel22@itsmytimetoodream @ivory-raptor@unstablekay@druigsluver29

@fresita1218@flu0re@elizabeth916@heccatee@evattude@cerejinha@caosfanblr@alyeskathewave@heartfilia01@bookloverfilmoholic@shadowwolfqueen-blog@jinxxangel13 @haikyuuswhoree @arcaurix @cheshirecat484 @pinkrockstar19

81 notes · View notes

zweetpea · 7 months

Text

Happy Birthday My Love

Happy birthday L

ao3 version: here

It was the best day of the year. That is to say it was Halloween, and more importantly your husband L’s birthday.

I know right? You snatched the greatest detective in the world? Obviously, you’re beautiful. Anyway enough about you!

————

You met him in a cafe in NYC when he was 23 and you were 21. You were reading a Sherlock novel, he ordered 14 big cookies, 2 strawberry slices shortcakes, Jasmine tea with a bowl of sugar cubes, and a banana split. He sat right by your table and you looked over with concern.

“…are you okay?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m concerned for your health. You can’t seriously eat all of that in one sitting.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because that’s not a proper lunch.” You say as you lift up your drink.

“Of course not. This is my pre lunch snack to get my brain stimulated.” At his statement you spit out your drink in surprising.

“What are you, diabetic? How can someone eat so much and yet be so skinny.”

“I find that you can burn calories by using your brain.”

“Okay Einstein. Just don’t drop dead anytime soon. I’m just here on vacation, I don’t need the police suspecting me to be the serial killer going around.”

“Why would they think that? You’re just a tourist.”

“I don’t find most police to be very bright or effective. Private Investigators do more work in a week than any beat cop could do in their entire life.”

The strange man was silent for a second, so you assumed that the conversation was over. However you weren’t expecting him to hold out a cookie for you. “Take it. Movie theater popcorn isn’t that good.”

“The hell?”

“Your tickets. Jaws, 1:15. I assume that your waiting for someone. You only got a drink and during lunch hour most people buy food.”

“Oh really? When do you have lunch, if this is your snack?”

“Same time as your movie. The only difference between then will be I’ll be dinning on fine quality food and you’ll be having stale popcorn and processed butter.” You look away. “Did I strike a nerve.”

“No offense but you’re a stranger. I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to spill my guts and whole life story to you.”

“Yet you asked me if I was okay.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen anyone eat so many sweets. Is it a crime to be concerned?”

“No. Just think of this as me repaying the generosity.”

“My Fiancé and I came out here to meet his parents.”

“You’re a little young to be getting married.”

“Uh, thanks? I don’t think it’s that weird, I’m 21. It’s not like I’m 12 being married off to some foreign diplomat.”

“Let me give you some advice. He either gave you the ring to get you to shit up or because he wants an unpaid maid.”

“Excuse me?”

“21 men don’t typically give up on hooking up with bimbo’s in short leather skirts. I’m 76%- no, 78% certain that he’s going to cheat on you by years end if he’s not already cheating. And judging by the way you smile sadly at your ring and scrunch your hands around your tickets I think you know that too.”

“What would you do if you were me?”

“Dump him and go out with the skinny diabetic across from you, clearly.” He responded sarcastically.

“Ha, you’re so funny.” You replied back with the same tone, rolling your eyes.

“You should at least tell him what you want. If he’s not willing to negotiate, leave him.”

“What I want, huh? I want to go see Jaws, would any diabetic Einsteins be interested in movie theater candy?”

“Okay that jokes run its course. No I’m not interested in that chewy soulless garbage.”

“Could I bribe you with another slice of cake?”

“I thought that you were worried about my health? Also this is highly improper.”

“Making a new friend?”

“Chatting up a man when you’re engaged.”

“It’s not like I’m asking you out, I just don’t want to go to my movie alone. When life gives you lemons, ya know?”

“Cake and cookies. You eat some too okay. I’m Yuuji.” You shook him hand and replied back with your own name.

——

“Okay, why do you like this movie?”

“It’s a classic! Sure they probably should’ve just poisoned the stupid thing. Sometimes the right answer is the most obvious one.” You two smiled as you walked out of the theater.

He stopped dead in his tracks. “Sometimes the answer is the most obvious one. I gotta go, here…” he scribbled down something on his ticket and handed it to you. “Nice to meet you, friend.” He trotted off down the street. You looked down at his ticket and saw he gave you his number.

“Huh, not bad Emo boy.”

————

“My love, wake up. I made you breakfast.” You say as you kiss his neck.

“Let me sleep in on my birthday.” He groaned. “Don’t temp me to give in with that sultry voice. You know I can’t say no to you when you do that.”

“Not true. It’s only 82.79% affective. As evident of now.”

“I stayed up late for weeks to perfect your favorite pancakes for you.”

“How’d I get so lucky to have a wife like you?”

“Good question, better question though is how did I manage to impress the world’s 3 greatest detectives?”

“By being intoxicating.” He replied smoothly.

“Okay Casanova, eat up before you food gets cold.” He smirked, grabbed you by your waist and pulled you into bed with him. Then he trailed kisses from your collar bone up to your jaw and finally planted a long deep loving kiss on your lips. “L!”

“How can you be mad at me when I have the sweetest treat right here in my arms?”

“I love you, L.”

“I love you too.”

BONUS:

L: Mmh, these buttercream cheese and strawberry pancakes are delicious. Thank you my wife.

You: A perfect meal for my perfect husband. Mwah!

You Two kiss!

#l x reader #l lawliet #l lawliet x reader #L fluff #L Lawliet fluff

127 notes · View notes

salty-an-disco · 14 days

Note

A headcanon for each voice, if you would? To distract you from evil sickness from Hell 👉👈

thank you for the distraction from my woes uwu

Hero is the kinda autistic that cannot absorb any information about their special interests. He just starts happy stimming and pointing excitedly at the thing, but cannot answer a single thing about his interests that aren't some very basic information. He'll also tell you the same facts over and over cuz he keeps forgetting them, and tells you again when he finds it.

If Contra stays inside for too long, they'll start getting restless and irritable. He's an outsy guy, he needs to go out and just fool around for their brain to stay happy and calm. Going out and exploring is also their go-to for when they need to decompress or have some problem they want to avoid. Sometimes they stay out for days on end.

Cold has no spatial awareness and will walk right onto walls and tables. They're also very hyposensitive, tho, so she barely notices it. Has all kind of objects stuck in its big-ass wings cuz it doesn't even try to avoid hitting stuff with them, and always more than a few purple marks on his body from everywhere he hit it.

Paranoid is terrified of dolls and most plushies, but plushies that have no eyes/the eyes are closed are very comforting for her. Has lots of sleeping animals with her, and some food plushies.

Skeptic cannot cook. Just didn't think it was an usefull skill to learn since he prefers ready-to-digest food anyway, and is hopeless in the kitchen. Often skips full meals unless someone (Hunted or Smitten) forces him to eat.

Smitten's vision isn't all that great, but he forgones glasses cuz it feels uncomfortable over his puffy feathers. Wears contacts once he learns about those, but before, he just kinda trusted his friends to keep him from walking into too much danger.

Cheated cannot feel her detachable arm at all. It's like a phantom limb, except the limb is right there and she can still move it. The cut off spot hurts during rains and colder seasons.

Broken is the kinda person to go from reading cute and cozy slice-of-life, to the most unsettling psychological horror known to men. Finds both comforting in different ways.

Stubborn is color blind. I have no reasoning for this other than I think it's a neat trait to throw at him.

To contrast Hunted, Oppy has a terrible sense of smell. Which is probably why he can handle to put on the most eye-watering perfumes known to men.

Hunted is great at predicting the weather, and often advices others about staying at home a little longer or taking an umbrella and some extra food if they get stuck.

#slay the princess #stp headcanons #stp voices #mailbox #sal rambles

29 notes · View notes

vidavalor · 22 days

Note

So... I made a key lime pie cheesecake thingy with toasted marshmallow topping, and something that was meant to be mint choc chip cake but ended up as mint choc chip brownie (task failed successfully?) with mint buttercream and candied violet petals on top -- have a slice of each!

Also, GO thoughts:

Restoration of angelic status: obvious BS offer in s2, foreshadow/Chekhovness for s3???

If the Bookshop was literally burned in s1 and got un-burned a couple of episodes later, and was metaphorically 'burned' in s2, five gets you ten it'll be un-burned by about halfway into s3. Reason one, parallel storytelling. Reason two (I think it was @ao3cassandraic's 'compassion fatigue' meta that talked about this), Azzy's never been shown much gratitude for the good stuff he does, so he's due a heaping helping of positive karma -- Anathema doing witchy stuff? Gabriel wanting to repay what he sees as some sort of life debt? Muriel wanting to repay his kindness? Azzy's old platoon remembering seeing him desert and deciding their respect for him outweighs their fear of punishment? Reason three, Good Omens is a fundamentally optimistic show written by a very talented storyteller who loves and cares for the characters, so the bad shit ain't gonna stick around forever and the good stuff is allowed to happen and persist without being cancelled out by gratuitous Drama(tm) and Angst(tm) (this isn't Game of Thrones, or a J**s Wh***n project). When Aziraphale quits the Bookshop for the South Downs, it would I think be out of keeping with the themes of the show for it to be anything other than his free, genuine, un-manipulated/forced/puppeteered choice, where he's had time to think things through and make arrangements for a proper handover.

If Gabriel could remember parts of Everyday even after removing his own memory, because of the strong positive emotional wossnames after less than four years, how much more might Aziraphale retain in his subconscious after an attempted memory wipe, given his bloody-minded stubbornness and 6000+ years of Crowley?

...it's too warm here rn and my brain is going wibbly and giving me Emotions(c)

Hi @jotun-philosopher! Hope you're having a good week so far, dear. Your kitchen adventures sound delicious. 💕

-On b.s. "Metatron" offer for Crowley foreshadowing restoration of angelic status in S3: I think, by the end of it, that Aziraphale's fall leads to the characters banding together to try to challenge it and overthrowing The Metatron in the process. They might all find out that it's The Metatron behind the concept of a demon and it's all b.s.. The demons will wind up restored to "full angelic status" by way of the fact that they'll realize they've really had it all along. Evil exists (Satan, The Metatron) but the rest of the angels and demons are, for the most part, just different shades of moral grey, like the rest of us. I think that would go along with the ideas of personal power that you mention and not letting others define you that I see in the series a bit. We'll have to see what happens though.

-On bookshop "unburned" in S3 & it being Aziraphale's choice to leave it: It's funny that you mention the fact that it was burned two different ways-- on fire in S1 and as a safe place in S2-- and how that fits in with the idea of mirrored storytelling because I was musing about what that could look like continued into in S3. I was thinking of the idea of "unburned" and I think there is an element of that. (Would also not be surprised if it's burnt a third time-- this time, by a burnt orange paint job lol.) I feel like it probably does remains an embassy. Have a meta in the ol' drafts folder about the bookshop, that its an embassy, and the cottage idea & where I can see already where the cottage idea might weaved into what's going on in S2 (besides the potential Jane Austen connection) so more on that when I get to finishing that one at some point between now and 2027 lol.

I do agree with your thoughts on the tone of the show and how it deals with dark stuff but in a way with a lot of humor and an overall positive tone. It'll have a good ending. You're right about Aziraphale being overdue for some good karma-- I think S3 will take care of him pretty well before all is over.

-On Gabriel's memory loss foreshadowing that Aziraphale might remember some things: What Gabriel could remember and when was really interesting. It played to me a lot like retrograde amnesia, which can really happen to some people who experience traumatic events. The mind puts caution tape around anything associated to the trauma and doesn't let the person engage those memories so, as a result, they lose parts of their identity. Suffer severe enough or all-encompassing enough trauma, like Gabriel did, and the mind can cause itself to forget its own identity completely in an effort to protect itself.

Gabriel's recall is also in keeping with that. He knows things like how to take himself to the bookshop and the lyrics to "Everyday" (and, some of us suspect, remembering Bildad!Crowley during the protection miracle scene) because part of his mind is whispering to him "these things are safe" since he considers the people associated with the memories safe but the context isn't safe enough to fully remember because of how Aziraphale, Crowley and Beez are tied to the traumatic event he's undergone.

There's also that Gabriel remembers more when he feels safe enough and trusts enough to do so. Crowley is more successful at helping him remember things once they've talked and the tone is less antagonistic and it's Beez, of course, who can bring him back in full.

I think Aziraphale will be the same if he loses his memories for part of the story. There will likely be things he remembers without full context. It will be fun to see what those are. One scene I think foreshadows his memory loss in general is the one below but I go back and forth on what it might be suggesting regarding what of Crowley Aziraphale can remember at first. The mirrored storytelling we mentioned would mean it could go either way, really, but I can only think of one, other character who could genuinely be described as a skinny latte, can't you? lol

#ineffable husbands #good omens #aziracrow #good omens meta #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #good omens theory

30 notes · View notes

rainiishowers · 1 month

Note

LUKE AND MAMMON REQUEST!!

Something slice of life?? Mc and mammon could go grocery shopping then see luke and now its all just a big familt outing doing chores together

A/N: Ahhhh I finally got my creativity back!!!! (About time brain, c'mon) Summary: It was Mammon's turn to do groceries, and MC decided to tag along (totally not because Mammon practically begged them to lol). They find Luke and Simeon, and after finding out Luke deserves a reward, they all decide to stop by a flower shop!

Genre: Fluff Content: Gender neutral MC, (implied?) MC x Mammon content, MC is implied to be able to cook better than Solomon

-------

"Human, let's get goin'!" "I'm coming, I'm coming!!" Mammon helps MC down the steps of the House of Lamentation, which earns him a thank you that he brushes off with a flustered face. The two quickly make their way to the market, but decide to make a quick trip at the shopping district. Mammon was trying to not get distracted by the shiny new things in the shop windows when he notices two familiar somebodies.

Those two familiar somebodies happened to be Simeon and Luke.

“Let’s go say hi!” MC drags Mammon to the two angels with no resistance, and Luke was the first to notice them. He tugs on Simeon’s shirt, and he looks away from the store window. The elder angel greets MC and Mammon with a smile.

“Hi you two!” Luke greets, with an equally if not more wide smile.

“Heya, watcha out shoppin’ for?” Mammon asks.

“Luke hit a milestone in his baking skills so I thought I should get him something, we needed to get groceries anyways.” Simeon tells the two.

“That’s amazing Luke! Good job!” MC praises, to which Luke bashfully smiles.

“Hehe, thanks!”

“Anythin’ specific ya want?” Mammon asks the young angel, who ponders this for a moment.

“I wanted to research more about Devildom plants and botany! From what Barbatos showed me, it’s so varied!!”

“There’s a flower shop not too far from here, wanna go look?” MC asks. “I’m pretty sure they have flower and botany guides for sale.”

“Ah, the one not too far from the market, it just opened recently if I recall correctly.” Simeon notes.

“Yea! That sounds awesome! I want to go!” Luke smiles, with stars in his eyes.

“Hey Sims, if you’re busy, we can take him there.” Mammon offers. “Most of our groceries come from the market anyways.”

MC nods in agreement. Simeon frowns, not wanting to trouble the two.

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be much of a bother?”

“Nah, it’s fine!” Mammon waves his hand dismissively. “Besides, it’s been a while since either of us hung out with Fido.” "Hey!! I told you not to call me Fido!" Simeon pats Luke on the back in comfort while he smiles at Mammon and MC. "I don't see why Luke can't go with you." The elder angel takes out a small pouch and gives a fair amount of grimm to MC, who pockets it. "That's for anything Luke may want, I trust you two to bring him to Purgatory Hall before dinner."

"Aye aye!" MC and Mammon both do small salutes before Mammon drags Luke to the direction of the market, a yelp of surprise coming from the young blond as he tries to get Mammon to wait for MC, who shoots Simeon a smile before following them.

Getting to the market, MC meets Luke and Mammon in front of a "exotic ingredients" stall, which was really just cooking and baking ingredients from the human world and the Celestial Realm imported to the Devildom, which makes them a bit more expensive then Devildom ingredients.

"Oi! Human, do ya think we can get some of this stuff from the human world? You haven't made anythin' from the human world in a while!"

"Yea! I missed your cooking, it definitely beats Solomon's cooking." Luke adds on.

"Sure, I'm guessing Lucifer wouldn't mind if I spent a little extra for this." MC muses, letting Mammon put some human world ingredients in the basket and paying for it with some of the money Lucifer gave them from groceries.

After a bit more grocery hunting, they make their way to the flower shop, which had dozens of flowers on sale upon entering. Along with flowers all arranged by color, they offered garden and flower books near the back, most of them were planting guide books, but others were just flower fact books.

A book on one of the lower shelves caught Luke’s attention. The front covered had the title of “Flower Symbolism: A Guide to What Your Flowers Mean!”

“Oh cool!”

“What’d you find, Luke?” MC asks.

Mammon and MC peek over the young blond’s shoulder and read the title. Mammon raises an eyebrow.

“Eh? Flower symbolism? Isn’t that the thing where flowers can mean different things?”

“Yea!” Luke smiles, opening the book and flipping to a random page.

“Orange gerberas often symbolism warmth, enthusiasm and energy, which is in line with its bright color.” Luke quotes from the book. He flips to another page, one about sunflowers.

“Sunflowers are known to mean adoration and devotion, and their symbolism with the sun makes the name rather fitting.” He quotes again.

“Huh, never thought this’d be a thing, guess it makes sense though.” Mammon hums as Luke goes to the counter to buy it.

While MC and Luke were at the register, Mammon had an idea. A corny one, but an idea nonetheless.

“Mammon?” MC calls out, snapping the second eldest out of his thoughts.

“H-Huh? Yea?”

“You coming?”

“Uh..” Mammon looks at the book Luke was holding in his arms. Buying flowers for these two wouldn’t be the worst idea, right?

“I’ll meet ya out in a couple minutes, still wanna have a quick walk round.” Mammon says.

“Oh, okay! We’ll just be outside the shop!”

MC and Luke leave the shop and Mammon is quick to use the money he earned from his side hustles to buy bouquet of sunflowers for MC and orange gerberas for Luke, and he couldn’t help but get excited at the idea of giving them flowers, but he couldn’t help but be a bit nervous.

He eventually got outside and sees MC and Luke with some crows on the steps below. He felt like a proud father watching his crows make noises of affection when Luke and MC pet them.

He makes his way down, and MC was first to spot him. They greet him with a smile and Luke looks up and waves before returning to petting the crow he was before.

“Hey Mammon, all done?”

“Yep..”

The crows perch themselves on Mammon’s shoulders while he leans down to Luke’s level and gives him the bouquet of orange gerberas.

“Here, got ya this.”

Luke looks at him with wide, surprised eyes but he eventually takes it with a giggle, understanding what it meant.

“Thanks Mammon!”

Mammon smiles and pats him on the head, something that nowadays doesn’t really bother Luke if it’s the second born, and stands up. The Avatar of Greed faces MC with a blushing, bashful expression, unable to look them straight in the eyes.

“H-Here.. Got ya this..” He stumbles, holding out the bouquet of flowers for MC to take.

MC was clearly not expecting this, and Mammon feared that MC didn’t like them, but after a moment of silence, they take the bouquet with a smile, squeezing Mammon’s hand in appreciation.

“Thank you, Mams..”

“D-Don’t mention it..”

Mammon lets out a major sigh of relief when MC wasn’t looking, talking to Luke about the plans going forward.

They decided to get the last groceries and then MC and Mammon would take Luke back to Purgatory Hall.

Mammon couldn’t help but grin as Luke happily showed Simeon the flowers the second born got him alongside the book about flower symbolism.

A few days later, Mammon was planning on going to his favourite human’s room to check on them, but he was pleasantly surprised when he saw MC had set up a whole system of artificial light so they can grow properly, since the Devildom doesn’t really have a sun.

“Oh, hi Mammon!”

Mammon yelps in a bit of surprise as MC caught him staring.

“O-Oh.. H-Hey.” He stammers, trying to play it cool. “Do you like the flowers I got you..?”

“Yeah, I really do..”

#obey me shall we date #omswd #shall we date obey me #om! shall we date #obey me!#obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me mc #obey me luke #obey me mammon #om! mammon #om! mc #om! luke #flower shop #kinda proofread

47 notes · View notes