#excuse me while i go wallow in self pity

[howlingday]

Dark AU: An idea of how to transition into the Dock scene could be Jaune and Penny go into Vale proper to buy things, Penny gets distracted (pet shop with Betta fish on display perhaps?), notices Jaune isn't around and Sun runs into her while running away. As an apology of sorts Sun helps Penny search for Jaune. Meanwhile Jaune was taken by some faunus on orders if spotted for questioning. (He may not have been revealed as the sole survivor to the public but there are ways to find out for an info broker.) Questioning becomes violent when Jaune gives answers they don't like. Brought to the docks heist to be left behind as an example. Somewhat escapes (Roman/Neo taking pity?) as Penny shows up lasers blazing. Aftermath Jaune gains confidence by saving someone, Penny maybe tells Jaune the truth and Sun eats a banana.

Just an option; if taken change how you like.

Also thanks for listening and for the content!

I like your idea, but I think I know just how to tweak in the way I've been looking for...

-------------------------------------------------

"Do you really have to see the betta fish again?"

"Yes, of course!" Penny replied, walking next to Jaune. She couldn't stop herself from shaking with excitement. Her favorite time of the week was to go to the pet store and look at all the beautiful betta fish on display. This had become routine since her arrival at Beacon a few months ago, and it was one that she and her partner had no intention of breaking. "Oh? It's closed?"

"Looks like it's being renovated." Jaune noted from the sign. Oddly enough, there were still pets in the window, including betta fish. "Kinda weird for these animals to be out here where it's so sunny."

Penny didn't respond. She was too engrossed in the elegant dance of the betta fish darting about in their tanks and bowls. Jaune smiled as her green eyes darted from one fish to another within seconds between them.

"Hey, kid." Jaune turned, seeing a man in a black apron. "You lookin' to buy?"

"Oh, no, just browsing." Jaune waved off, quickly dismissing his excited partner behind him. He swore he heard her neck snap.

"You sure?" The man tilted his head down, brow raised. "Maybe you want a pet? Something to keep you calm? Like a cat?"

"No, no, really, I'm sure, Mister..." Jaune narrowed his eyes on the nametag. "...Leon?"

"Well, if you're sure. But would you like to help feed them? Kinda got a lot and my back's been aching all morning."

At this, Jaune's face lit up. This was his chance to do some good for once, instead of just sitting around and wallowing in his own self-pity at Beacon. And huntsmen did help those in need, right? Jaune gave a nod.

"We'd be happy to help, right, Penny?" He turned to see his partner didn't respond, too engrossed by an especially red and blue fish. "Well, I'd be happy to help." He got closer to his partner. "Hey, Penny? I'm going to help feed some animals. I'll be inside, okay?"

"Mm..." Penny said, though it may not have been in reply to him.

Giving a shrug, Jaune followed the man inside. The inside was warm and dark, with no lights or any kind of air conditioning on. Were the animals really okay in this kind of environment? It didn't seem safe.

"So, uh, where are the animals?" Jaune asked as he entered the room in the back.

"It's faunus!" Everything went loud and dark. All of a sudden, Jaune couldn't feel anything. Not even the throbbing swelling lump on his head.

----------------------------------------------------

"Okay, I think I lost them- ACK!"

Penny fell to her side as a young man was straddled over her. His shirt was unbuttoned and wide open, showing off his toned abs while a golden tail swirled from his torn-up jeans. Penny gave a blink a couple of times before she realized what had happened.

"Oh, excuse me!" She said. "I'm sorry if I was in your way."

"Nah, nah, it's cool." The monkey faunus pulled himself to his feet before lending a hand. Penny took it and quickly rose to stand. "Sorry about that. I was just running away from some, uh..." She scratched his head. "Uh, nevermind. The name's Sun Wukong! What's your name?"

"I am Penny Polendina, and this is... Jaune?" Penny turned, looking around. "Jaune?"

"Is Jaune your pet?"

"He is my assigned partner at Beacon Academy."

"Oh, you're going to Beacon? Same! I'm from Haven Academy!"

"I see! Where is your team?"

"They'll get here eventually. I took the fastest way I knew!"

"You abandoned your team?"

"Ah, they'll understand." Sun waved her off. "So, uh, where'd this Jaune partner or yours go? He ditch ya?"

"He would not ditch me. He could not ditch me."

"Oh..." Sun clicked his cheek. "You guys are like that, huh?"

"He is my partner, and I am his. It is up to me to ensure his mental state does not diminish to critical levels."

"Uh... huh..." Sun walked around. "Well, if you guys are that close, then he probably didn't get far." He pointed to the pet store. "You think he's in here?"

"Unlikely." Penny answered. "The building is being renovated."

"With the door wide open and nobody inside?" Sun entered the building, followed by Penny. "Seems kinda weird, not gonna lie." He sniffed. "Wait." He sniffed again. "Oh no..."

Sun quickly rounded the empty cages to the counter, tossing the door aside. Looking down, he could see a clean floor, but his nose didn't lie. Following it to the closet in the back, he found a person laying inside, unconscious.

"The shopkeeper!" Penny shouted. She swiftly turned and ran for the back room. "Jaune?!"

"Ah, hell..." Sun groaned. "The last thing I'd want is to get the cops involved, but it looks like that's what's gonna happen." Sun picked the phone off the counter but set it down when there was no dial tone. "Lights out, hot as Vacuo, and no phone service? There's a lot wrong with this picture."

"Sun! I have found something!" Sun jumped the counter, running to the back room where Penny stood. The inside looked to be a garage with an open door to the back alley. There were skid marks on the ground and a white flag held aloft in the girl's hands. "I think I know who has Jaune."

On the flag was a familiar red symbol of a beast and claw marks.

----------------------------------------------------

"Where is Jaune now?!" Glynda screamed as she paced the floor of the headmaster's office. "You don't know is not an acceptable answer, Miss Polendina. Jaune Arc is your partner, which means he is your-"

"Glynda!" She flinched, looking to Professor Ozpin. The look on his face was a rare instance of anger. He seldom showed it, which meant it wasn't an emotion to be taken lightly from him. "Hand me the scroll. Focus on finding Jaune from here and ensuring all students are back at Beacon Academy."

"Yes, Headmaster." She gulped, handing over the scroll. "Excuse me, I didn't-"

"You're scared. It's understandable, Glynda." The way he used her first name to calm her down worked, though only a little. "But fear is not what we should be using to respond to this. Now do as you were instructed." With a nod, she left the office, tapping on her personal scroll. "Miss Polendina, this is your headmaster speaking. Remain calm and explain to me what has happened."

Ozpin sat and listened, simultaneously coordinating with police and huntsmen across Vale to find his missing student. This wasn't the first time a student went missing, nor could he hope it would happen be the last. But there was one thing he would do if his power allowed. Jaune Arc would not die. His first years for the current semester may have been single digit numbers, but they would not drop lower than they'd already had.

"Can you determine which direction the tires were going?" He asked, at the same time updating the mission board for the responding huntsmen to read. "Have you contacted the authorities? Are they with you now?" Thankfully, the woman and the animals in the store were alive, though blunt force trauma to the former and heat injuries to the latter hardly constituted as 'and well'. "And you say a student from Haven Academy is present with you?" This would be the most awkward task, since that meant he'd have to explain to Leonardo that one of his students had arrived in Vale months early for the Vytal tournament.

Unfortunately, with all these questions being answered, too many were still left unknown as they appeared. Why was the White Fang in Vale? Why would they kidnap Jaune? And most importantly, where had they taken him?

"Ozpin!" Professor Goodwitch slammed open the door to his office. "We've found him."

----------------------------------------------------

"Good evening, I'm Lisa Lavender. Tonight, for our top story, we have an interview with the student who survived the initiation of the mass student deaths at Beacon Academy, Jaune Arc." She smiled to him. "Thank you for coming to us, Jaune."

"N-No problem." Jaune gulped. When he woke up, men with bone-white masks pointed guns at him and told him to stay where he was. One of them had pointed ears on his head and the other had a tail curled over his belt.

"Now, Mr. Arc, I understand this is a very difficult topic to discuss, but the audience would appreciate if you could tell us what happened to you at Beacon Academy."

"Uh..." He glanced to the side, where the camera was looking right at him, but not as threateningly as the man next to it holding a gun. With a shaky breath, he made the choice to relive that horrible day. "I... I left for Beacon Academy and when I got there, I..." He gave a chuckle. "I threw up in the trash as soon as I got off the bullhead. A little while after, I met a girl who was in a crater. I... I think it was a dust explosion. She... She told me her name was Ruby."

Jaune's throat dried up, but he kept talking because if he stopped talking, what was going to happen? He'd get shot? He'd die? Telling this woman, the people in the room, and if the camera was any indication, the whole world, everyone was listening to him. However, the next part of the story was the worst part.

"I... I watched as Ruby, she..." He swallowed, feeling tears well in his eyes. "She wasn't as old as me, so seeing her like..." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, do I have to keep going?" He looked to the woman with tears spilling from his eyes.

"Only if you want to." She placed a hand on his.

He flinched as the gun racked, reminding him of who was really in charge.

"I-I-I..." He shuddered. "One girl was tossed over the side of the cliff. I listened as she screamed until I couldn't hear her anymore."

"Do you remember who it was?"

"It... It was the girl with the white hair."

"Do you mean Weiss Schnee, the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company?" He nodded. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "A tragedy felt just as tenderly as everyone else who'd perished that day."

He could hear one of the gunmen give a chuckle.

"My partner and the blond girl... I think one of them was Ruby's sister... They... They both died to the big scorpion one."

"The Deathstalker." She nodded. "And your partner was Pyrrha Nikos, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, she... She helped unlock my aura."

"You entered Beacon without your aura unlocked?" She sounded genuinely caught off guard. "What would possess you to do something so dangerous?"

"I..." He sniffed, glad to be away from the topic, if even for a little bit. "I wanted to prove myself. I was a nobody, and I just... I didn't want to be a nobody forever. A disappointment."

"Well, Jaune, I have to say that what you did was, in my personal opinion, the most selfish, stupid thing you could have done." Jaune's eyes widened. "People have dedicated their lives to training and honing their bodies, their skills, their mental fortitudes so that they can protect innocent people from the horrors of the Grimm, and you attended Beacon because you, 'wanted to prove yourself,' if I'm using your words right. People are dead, Jaune, and how exactly did you survive?"

"I... I went into the caves and..."

"And you hid." Lisa venomously spat. "Like a coward. Weiss Schnee is dead, Jaune. Pyrrha Nikos is dead. Ruby is dead. Every single one of those students is dead because you couldn't act. Because you didn't have the training to do what innocent people would be counting on you to do if you did make it as a huntsman." She threw her arms in the air before folding them. "What did you expect to happen, Jaune? That you and these girls would go to the academy, be best friends, and then just spend the rest of your life going on adventures as a huntsman?" She jabbed a finger at him. "The world isn't a fairy tale, Jaune. People fight and die because the Grimm are monsters who won't stop until we're all dead. But you wanted to prove yourself? Well, I think you've proven yourself well enough... as a coward."

Jaune... did nothing. What could he do? He'd just been slandered to people all over Remnant. His parents, his teachers, complete strangers just heard him get broken down by this woman and called a coward for all the tears he shed. And the worst part of it all was that she was right.

Jaune fled with that girl into the caves after the others died. He didn't have any power to stand against those giant monsters those girls died to, and he thought he could come into Beacon at the same level they did. He was a sham, a fraud. Every word said against him was the truth, and he just had to sit there and accept it.

"I'm Lisa Lavender. Thank you for watching."

"And cut!" The world became loud around Jaune as people moved this direction and that, leaving him seated in his chair. Lisa Lavender had already left the room, though not before shaking her head and scoffing in disgust.

"Come on, kid."

Jaune was grabbed by the shoulder and shoved. He looked up and saw the bone-white mask with red marks. Suddenly, the person in the mask didn't look or sound like a person, but like a monster, growling at Jaune as he fell over, kicking himself away across the floor and to the wall. It gave a bellow, roaring at him to no move. Breathing quickened, fingers twitching, Jaune wanted to let out a scream but couldn't figure out how. Fear attracted the Grimm and his body was in a panic, set to remain frozen so he wouldn't be bothered. The Grimm bellowed a chant.

"One! Two! Three!" Light flashed, and Jaune shut his eyes to not see the girl's face. When he opened his eyes, a different girl was looking right at him.

"P...Penny?"

"S-Sal-u-tations, Jaune!" She cheerily replied. "Do you... require assistance?"

"Surrender your weapons!" Another familiar voice called. "You're all under the custody of Vale Huntress Goodwitch!"

"Over here!" A blond boy waved over to the pair.

As they started moving towards him, a gunshot was heard, making Jaune flinch and fall to the floor. He could feel himself sliding before hands grabbed him by his cheeks and green eyes filled his vision. "Jaune, it is okay. I am here!"

"Penny?" He grunted, blinking before shaking his head. "I'm... I'm good. Thank you, Penny." The students met up through the doors, Jaune panting as he leaned against the wall. "Who... Who are you?"

"Name's Sun." He said. "You're Jaune, right? Penny's told me about you."

"Yeah. Did sh-" Jaune stopped as he looked at Penny, who had her back to him. She'd been shot, but where there should have been a wound, or maybe even nothing because of aura, there was an indent in her body. Like bent metal. Jaune's feet gave out under him and he fell into the black again.

----------------------------------------------------

"Heck of a performance you did, Miss Lavender."

"Thank you, Roman." The woman on his scroll said. "And really, thank you for providing me with that interview. I'm sure to get an award for that one."

"Anytime, sweetheart." He grinned. "Your news special was just thing we needed to get these schmucks to look somewhere else tonight."

"Will there be a story for me to report tomorrow?"

"Isn't there always?" He chuckled. "I'll deliver my appreciation with the flowers." With a tap, the call had ended, and Roman reveled at all the dust him and his boys had managed to haul from the docks. Walking out of the warehouse, he lit up his cigar, taking a few puffs. "And they say there's nothing original on the news."

#rwby #jaune arc #penny polendina #sun wukong #lisa lavender #dark au #ozpin #glynda goodwitch #roman torchwick

[amyriadofleaves]

outside it starts to pour — neuvillette | chapter three

synopsis: in the limelight of fontaine, the prying eyes of its people never truly tears their gaze off the iudex and you, the présidence du conseil d'état, which makes for baseless rumours to fester and echo throughout the theatrics of opera. you and neuvillette are challenged by the reputations the both of you are expected to uphold, and the weighty decision to navigate these intricacies rests upon the discerning judgement of fontaine's archon.

{prev} ; { nav } ; { next }

ao3 : wattpad  ˚　.˚　

⌗ pairing : neuvillette x fem!reader ⌗ feat : neuvillette, reader ⌗ warnings : not rly ⌗ word count: 4.4k

You arrive at the Palais a little shy before sunrise. Every step you take is light as your thoughts are consumed with the necessity of signing paperwork before your meeting with Clorinde, and your fatigue suddenly becomes the least of your worries. Your steps speed in a flurry of excitement of the events of today (you are so excited, even, that the whole marriage debacle flies over your head — but you are acutely aware of the uneasiness that brews at the very pit of your stomach). 

Oh, you haven’t felt so happy since you were a meek, frail little excuse of a lawyer, excited for your first day at work. You even wave at everyone present in Palais Mermonia, and smile widely upon seeing Sedene, to which she regards with a questioning look. She scratches her head while she’s at it, almost calculating what she should, and should not say. She decides she will be in your good graces today.

“Why aren’t you early today!”

You sniff, wiping your eyes. “Well, it’s not like I could get any sleep, really — I was as awake as an owl the whole night!” Before Sedene can get a word out, you interject enthusiastically, before taking a sip of your coffee: “You know what they say: early bird catches the worm!”

The Melusine’s expression turns stoic, and almost playful. “Are you merely saying this to hide the reality that you're having trouble sleeping because of the marital arrangement?”

Gracelessly (like there was any graceful alternative), you spit out your drink. Ah, so that was what all the uneasiness was about. The events of last night were a blur, but you briefly recall the bitter taste of alcohol on your tongue and a creeping headache blooming — but what was fun without its consequences? A few painkillers and your day would go on without a hitch. Instead of wallowing in self-pity for too long, you beg a question: “Erm, Sedene? Who told you this?”

To your dismay, her face lights up. “Oh. My. God. So it is true! You are to be my aunt! You are marrying the Chief Justice of Fontaine—” Before she is given the opportunity to say another word, you kneel down to muffle her words with the palm of your hand, hastily looking around to see if anyone had heard her.

“I repeat myself, who told you that?”

She replies in earnest, and you cannot help but feel your heart thawing again. Melusines are infuriatingly adorable, and in turn they are your weakness; You cannot, no matter how hard you try, feel even the slightest bit of resentment for their gullible behaviour. In response to your question, she points to the other Melusine, her head in a book, at the end of the hallway. “Kiara told me so — says that she and Liath were hiding behind the Chief Justice’s couch listening in to the ‘arrangement’.” Sedene brings both of her hands to her shoulders and air quotes the word ‘arrangement'. How cute.

So that accounted for the strange movement behind one of the couches. You crack a smile at the notion that Sedene wouldn't have heard the end of it for so readily spilling such a secret if this was some parallel universe where she and the others were simply humans instead.

Another one’s elation is another’s despair, however, and you lament ever choosing to stay in this hell of a place. “If you keep going on like this I’m going to have to find another post to work at before all my secrets get exposed, Sedene. Well — if you’ll excuse me, I have work to attend to.” You give her a pained smile, and ignore the crack of your knees as you begin to stand up. How unfit I am, you curse.

___

Letting your forehead thud against the desk, you bear the weight of boredom and exhaustion settling in the dull ache echoing through your office. You tell yourself that there is only an hour before you can leave to meet your soulmate from a land far, far, away. Clorinde, what a girl she is, so hard headed yet so sensitive all the same. Laughing at this sentiment, you shake your head before dipping your quill in the pot of ink before signing more papers. 

“Pipe leakage… recent case solved…” you read to yourself, humming lightly in the chill of your office. You smirk at the lack of any papers regarding the marriage and wish deeply that what she said was just, purely in jest.  

You eye the two stacks that sit on both sides of your desk with pride: the proportion of signed and to-be-signed papers were in your favour, and you flick through the unfinished stack and find your fingers coming empty handed faster than usual.

The dread you felt this morning settles in once again, and you scrunch your nose in distaste. You pray that Lady Furina has forgotten about the whole proposal, and instead has thought of a better, more rational method of addressing her defamation. Though you find her indisputably repulsive, you clasp your hands together in prayer that she would pity a mere mortal like you and save you the trouble. You omit Monsieur Neuvillette out of the equation since you doubt he quite fits into the bill of a ‘mere mortal’.  People were of the general opinion that he was not quite human. After all, what kind of person is able to live that long? You set the thought aside, and realise your work here is done. Early weekend it is! 

You stand from your seat and make your way to the door to leave — but your pace hiccups at the sound of distinct metal clad boots echoing through the Palais. Who it is is unmistakable. This, you know absolutely. Back to the door, you anticipate the dulling of his steps with great anxiety. You hold your satchel tightly to your chest like a lifeline, not daring to breathe.

It feels like centuries before the footsteps cease, and you take this as your call to leave before anyone can question your early departure. You gulp nervously gingerly twist the knob to your door.

The worst time your intuition can fail you is now, and it does, matter of factly, fail you.

There the Chief Justice stands, just right outside your office, fist hovering where it would’ve knocked on the door had you not opened it mere seconds before he decided to do so. It would be a lie to say you aren’t stunned, and you hope to god he doesn’t notice the surprise that comes to flicker over your face.

He brings his arm down to rest right by his hip, and gives you a tightlipped smile. “Here I was thinking you left already.”

You take in the neater braid he now wears as opposed to the hairdo he sported yesterday, and you do not know what to do but gesture to it lamely. “I presume the Melusines made short work of… whatever style you’re rocking today.” In an awkward attempt to make yourself loosen up, you lean stiffly on the doorframe. What is wrong with me? Who in the hell says ‘rocking’? Am I stupid or am I stupid?

“Why yes, I am very proud of the final product indeed. What ever shall I do without them?” He seems to think deeply at the possibility, and his expression sours a little, like that of a dejected puppy.

You titter slightly. How dense can this man be? “Surely, you’re aware that I'm joking?”

Neuvillette, in fact, is not aware of this. Quite frankly, he is confused at your change in mood, the what seemed to be a perpetual frown on your face turned upside down for once. “Yes, I am aware. Do not worry.” He is confused at himself, too. Since when was he one for white lies?

Clearing your throat, you look him in the eye. “So… what brings you to my office?”

“I presume it would be best to bring this matter inside, if that is alright with you?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

You notice that he is as tense as ever, and so you offer him a seat.

As he settles into the cosy confines of your office, he finds himself surprisingly at ease. Surveying the artwork adorning the walls and the cherished photographs adorning the shelves, he detects a distinctly human touch. One image, in particular, catches his eye: a photograph featuring you and your mother. He eyes it for a while, picking out the features that he finds similar between your mother and yourself. What a striking resemblance, he thinks. 

Crossing your arms, you shake your head a little. “I am sorry monsieur, but my schedule is kind of tight today so I’m gonna need you to jump straight to the point.” You slightly wince at the sharpness of your tone, but the man sat in front of you does not seem to acknowledge this whatsoever.

“Ah, yes — I am sorry. And please, just call me Neuvillette. We are to be wed after all.”

If you still had any of the coffee you drank earlier in your mouth, you would have soiled the Chief Justice's robe!  You thank yourself that it happened with Sedene instead of Neuvillette. Not that it was any better with Sedene, but...

You try your very best to hide your clammy hands underneath the desk. “And… where’s the confirmation? I haven’t heard from Lady Furina since…”

Neuvillette itches the back of his neck with a sort of expression you associate with the likes of something unpleasant. This is certainly a first. A flustered Neuvillette? “You see, that was what I was to discuss with you.” 

You gulp as he hands you a stapled contract and ignore the flutter in your chest when your hands graze for a second. Despite his previous affirmation to your suspicions, you still persist to deny that this has nothing to do with the proposal. 

You are terribly wrong. Lady Furina hasn’t forgotten. Before taking a look at the paper, you brace yourself for the inevitable.

Matrimonial Accord: This contract is entered into on this by [13/09/XX] and between [17/09/XX]:

Party A: [Chief Justice Neuvillette]  and  Party B: [(Name)]

Whereas, both parties agree to enter into a simulated matrimonial union for mutual benefit; 

Now, therefore, in consideration of the covenants and promises contained herein, the parties agree as follows:

I will definitely find a way to rectify the mistakes of Poisson, so you sly woman — you know who you are — do not berate me so!

You quirk a brow. Peering closer at the paper, you notice that this sentence was penned in between the lines; you come to realise that there is a jarring difference in the handwriting, and realise that it is Furina’s doing. 

Terms and Conditions:

Duration: The ‘marriage’  shall be in effect for a period of six months from the effective date unless terminated earlier by mutual agreement.

Public Appearances: Both parties shall make appearances as a newlywed couple at designated events, including but not limited to diplomatic receptions, state dinners, The Opera Epiclese, and similar functions.

Acts of Public Affection: The parties agree to engage in acts of public affection as deemed necessary and encouraged to maintain the appearance of a genuine marital relationship.

Proposal: A grand and dramatic proposal event shall be staged, adhering to agreed-upon guidelines.

Publicity: Parties acknowledge and accept that the faux marriage is intended for public perception, and both parties shall cooperate in presenting a united front to the public.

Termination:

Either party may terminate this agreement with written notice to the other party if there is a breach of any provision herein or for any reason mutually agreed upon.

Governing Law:

This Agreement shall be governed by and construed in accordance with the laws of Fontaine.

In witness whereof, the two parties hereto have executed this Matrimonial Accord as of the Effective Date. Remember to not be surprised at the publicity; it is the whole point after all — my name shall be cleared!

               SIGNED             

[Chief Justice Neuvillette]  [Date]

_________________________

[(Name)]  [Date]

Abruptly, you look up at the Iudex and notice him staring at you with intent. You hold it unwaveringly, and note that it is as if he’s looking through you rather than at you. “She barely contributed to writing this, did she?”

Neuvillette straightens his frame, seemingly rehearsing what he ought to say, lest something were to come off wrongly and this whole contract be damned. He coughs into his fist. “The first and original copy was… something of no merit, demoiselle. This was the most I could do to mitigate the foolishness of her terms, forgive me if they are still not in your favour.”

You shut your eyes in denial, pinching your wrist to hang onto one sliver of hope, that maybe ─ just maybe — this was a dream. 

You toss the contract curtly onto the desk that separates the two of you. “In my favour it is not, monsieur. I do not wish to sign this.” You flat out decline, dispelling any arguments you know are to be posed if you had elaborated any further.

Neuvillette’s look wavers, and he slightly wilts at your adamance to keep formalities — but he chooses to make no fuss of this just yet. “But you must. Please, this is for your sake.” He fully expected this, yes, but to be flat out rejected with no room for discussion shook him greatly.

You shoot a hand up in the air in exasperation. “Is this for my sake or Furina’s sake? Hm? I just — I can’t do it. I know, I know six months is not long. But to keep up an act — let alone pretend like I’m in love — it’s just too taxing and I know I won’t be able to do it.” You shoot a hand up in the air in exasperation.

The Iudex prepares himself to say what he never expected to in all the years he’s been alive. Do not fret, madame, for it is not your solitary responsibility. I must admit, it's a situation I hadn't anticipated, and I, too, am thrust into it. There's an undeniable obligation on my part, and, well, it's an unexpected predicament for both of us.

This does not do much to shake your resolve.

His eyes plead for you to listen, and you swear on your life that this is the most distressed you've ever seen him. “Lady Furina will surely see to it that you face some semblance of punishment. And madame, I clarify that I have, indeed, tried to convince her otherwise — but she has not relented —”

The steeling glare you shoot him is enough to cease his tangent — but defeated as he is, he still manages one last plea. “Please, kindly take it into consideration.”

Biting your lip, you weigh the infinite possibilities that lie in the palms of your hands. It is strictly only six months, the marriage isn’t even real, you advise yourself, ignoring the other gnawing voice that is screaming at you to say no. But there has to be a catch! another voice insists, and you are stuck in a limbo of yeses and noes for what seemed a little too long for comfort. 

This is a pivotal moment for yourself and your career. It will undoubtedly either embarrass you or elevate your status in the eyes of those who are waiting with bated breath for any error to take advantage of. Not that this is anything new; you recall vividly the expressions of scepticism from those who sat before you at the Opera Epiclese, questioning the veracity of your judgement — your privileged, yet tainted background a harbinger for disaster.

Dragging the contract back to your end of the desk, you give it a brief once-over. This time, your eyes catch onto the lack of conditions set by Lady Furina. How incompetent, whether you are scolding her or yourself, you are unsure. 

You draw in a long inhale, and level your eyes to his. “I’ll do it.”

His eyes widen in surprise, and he lets out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’ve come to agree with the terms.” You are slightly irked at the breaking of his character, but nod your head nonetheless. You reach for your quill, and your hand hesitates before the ink soaks through the paper. Your heart is practically in your throat at how spontaneous all of this is. 

You hand the contract to Neuvillette, but the paper is suspended in your grasp for a few moments. “However — I have a request to make.”

Neuvillette’s eyes glint in the blooming sunlight peeking through the blinds. “Anything.”

You retract your arm, and now are in full possession of the contract again. You present the first page, the page offered to Neuvillette, poised in your hands. “This contract mentions nothing of the lines we can, and cannot cross. And I’d just like to input my ideas before you return this to Lady Furina.”

“That is a reasonable request. Do continue.” Offering him a quill, he takes it gingerly along with the contract. He flips the page, writing something along the lines of ‘additions to…’ under the signatures. You fully expect him to be calm and collected, but a wrinkle forms between your brows when you notice that his fingers exhibit a subtle quiver, akin to the gentle tremor of a leaf in a soft breeze. A faint falter anyone could miss, yet you find it to be the most profound aspect of his character, peculiarly intimate in its nature.

“Are you alright? You’re a touch too pale.”

What? Were you really as ghastly as he said you were? You clear your throat, tearing your focus off his gloved hands. “I am quite alright. So… onto the terms. First and foremost, each party isn’t obliged to the whereabouts of the opposite party, unless consented to. Sounds good?”

He nods his head, not sparing a glance at you lest he loses focus. 

You take the ceasing of him writing as a sign for you to continue. “Next, I’d like to request that any advancements behind closed doors are to be prohibited, alongside any insinuation of consummation — or having one’s way with the other. Might I add that —” you pause at the silence that came with the lack of the intent scribbling of a quill pen from the man in front of you. Were you talking too fast? He is all red in the face.

“I — uh, did I say something sensitive?”

He lets out a little cough, before he breaks out into a fit. You are clueless in what you must do. Is he choking? Is he sick? Should you offer him freshly acquired water from Chenyu Vale? Your panic only ensues when it dawns on you that you have no solutions for all the possibilities that echo through your head. A teacup is sat solitary on one of your books. Oh, right. You have a crazy collection of Fonta.

You reach for it, before reluctantly offering it to him. “Would you like some Fonta? Though, it might be a few days old, I’m afraid.” He frantically waves his free hand, and you think he means no. Gosh, does he not like Fonta? That is very unlike the Fontainian character. Retracting yourself back into your seat, you can only wait until he stops his fit. To your luck, he stops before he actually stops breathing.

“I,” he starts, “do not think the consummation part is at all —” he sputters again. “— necessary.”

You smile a little, and look away to save him the embarrassment. “I repeat that I did say ‘insinuation’: this pertains to all external parties involved; for example, Lady Furina.”

Oh. My apologies for the oversight. Just — spare me a moment. After clearing his throat into his forearm, he continues to scrawl on the paper. 

Taking pity on him, you decide to help and extend your hand to finish the last conditions. The look on his face tells you he is rather bewildered at the action, and he waves a hand (calmly this time) to refuse your help. “It is quite alright.”

To keep yourself from disclosing the full extent of your reason, you make the decision to tell a lie. “Do not take this into offence — it’s not that you’re a slow writer, monsieur. I just have a meeting with Miss Clorinde in about half an hour and I think it’d be best if I write the conditions to quicken the pace a little.” While the ‘truth’ isn’t necessarily a lie, it is nonetheless effective, so why not utilise it?

He quietly relents, handing you the slightly crumpled piece of paper. You scan his words, and to your astonishment, his penmanship is still precise and tidy, a stark contrast to the fit he showed just seconds ago.

Except for the last few words he wrote, of course. You strike through the whole sentence and rewrite it properly.

Additional Terms to the Contract that all parties (including external ones) are expected to adhere to:

Romantic advancements behind closed doors are prohibited — and this includes:

Any insinuation of consummation.

Covert displays of affection beyond reasonable social boundaries.

Innuendos or suggestive remarks.

Excessive or prolonged physical contact behind closed doors.

Each party isn’t obliged to the whereabouts of the opposite party, unless consented to.

These guidelines are to be strictly followed for the duration of the agreed-upon contract.

Placing the contract onto the table, you push it slightly forwards. Your heart beats in a crescendo, and you almost berate yourself for selling your life away. Six months! it said; but the silence that hangs between the both of you is knowing. No one is going to forget. You are, for lack of a better word: imprisoned. Every solution is an illusion of sanctuary and this is the one that grants the most mercy. 

You are parched. The words that come out of your mouth are awfully feeble, and you can only manage to croak out whatever dignity you have left.“Now, monsieur, if you’ll excuse me. I have something I need to attend to.”

He nods his head and stands from his seat. “But of course.”

You both exit your office in unpleasant silence. 

Finally, after all that back and forth, Neuvillette finally accepts the contract, and bows before returning to his own office. In his absence, you swear you feel your eyes water a little. What exactly have you just gotten yourself into? This sends you reeling to when you were a child, thrown into fencing classes with people twice your age — except the intensity of it all is multiplied tenfold. 

It is times like this where you want to reach for your mother. You miss her terribly, and you wish to do anything to feel her warm embrace and to hear her whisper words of reassurance to convince you that everything was alright. 

“And of what of Father’s tenderness? Is that not proof that he loves you?”

“But my dearest, tenderness is the very proof you have been ruined.”

You blink, and the tear that had pooled falls and is caught by the apple of your cheek. You chew on your lip to prevent a quiver from it. Not here, you chastise yourself.

Hearing someone approach, you hasten your stride while wiping the tear with such aggression you feel your makeup smear and linger on the base of your wrist. The Gardes that stand by the doors regard you with indifference, and for the first time, you appreciate that they pay you no mind. One step outside and you curse under your breath at how today is awfully gloomy, a pitiful beam of light peeking through the clouds. A gust of wind curls through your hair, painting your cheeks with the cool droplets of imminent rain. Blasted Hydro Dragon.

You decide to steal a glance at whomever it is that is behind you and almost let out a whine. Why is it always him? Whether it is a figment of your imagination, he seems to slow when he sees you slightly turn to him. You, however, feign ignorance, turning your head away, yet a small part of you harbours a minute hope – the hope that he might choose to fall into step beside you. And indeed, he does.

His next move is abrupt, albeit a bit awkward. “Allow me to accompany you to your destination. My schedule for today is quite unoccupied, and, well, I was thinking it might be an opportune moment for us to engage in some conversation. If that is fine with you, of course.” The offer lingers in the air, awaiting your response.

His request blurs into the backdrop as you catch the glare of multiple cameras gleaming at the both of you outside the Palais. Foolish you are not, and you come to the grim understanding that they are waiting here for you. Of course, the Chief Justice is the primary priority; you are simply his paramour .

How convoluted could all of this be? You've seen a plethora of operas. This is not any more different. You take a glance at Neuvillette, but he is gazing ahead, his expression inscrutable.

A contemplative look floods through your eyes, and you are given an instant to make a spontaneous decision. The intricate dance of human emotions, the thirst for scandal, the insatiable appetite for drama — they claw at anything if it means it will quench their foolish desires. They're looking for bravado. Drama. With everything in them, they yearn for it. It is merely human hubris, an inexorable sin. Lady Furina wants an act? You’ll have her beg for more.

You whirl around to properly face him and smile. “Why, I’d be most delighted, mon chéri.” You relish in his widened eyes as your hands shakily reach for the hem of his collar, and you adjust it just enough to ruffle the fabric of his blouse.  Looking at him with all the tenderness you can muster, you place a palm to his chest and another to your side, and still, he is nothing short of hopeless. So, you decide to help him a little; would it hurt to give them a little more of a show?

Guiding him further into the act, the heels of your feet are lifted off the ground, and you wrap your arms around his neck to gently press your lips to his ear. “Act,” is the single word you whisper to him; a command — a curse —  before you pull away, grinning cruelly as the cameras flare.

a/n : TEEHEE I wanna kiss him sb its not funny anymroewse

taglist : @sek0ya

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #genshin impact #neuvillette fanfic #enemies to lovers #marriage of convenience #neuvillette genshin #lolololofwl I WANt him

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Thoughts on this scenario?: Alucard sometime before s3 or during s3 meeting Trevor's older sister (neither of them are aware they have a sibling who survived the massacre) after she show up at the castle knocking on his door with her knife like "WHY is Dracula's castle on top of my family's ruins?!" I think it would be very interesting for both of them. (Especially once Alucard tells her that her little brother is alive.)

A/N: Lol, this is effing hilarious! I can totally just see Alucard watching this woman come out of nowhere and start throwing cheap shot punches and being like: “There’s ANOTHER Belmont??” 

Alucard Meeting Trevor’s Older Sister Headcannons 

So she shows up to what she expected to be nothing more than a pile of ruins only to find said pile of ruins plus a giant ass castle next door. Which makes no sense because 1) Why not repair the Belmont home if someone was going to build something there? And 2) Why choose to make a big ugly-ass castle of all things? 

On the inside, she’s like: ‘Has it really been THAT long?’ (Maybe, lol.) 

Once the initial shock subsided, she’s like, ‘Okay, this thing’s gotta go’ because again, it’s ugly af, and it can’t be good for the open-earthed Belmont Hold to be responsible for supporting all that weight. 

So she goes to the door and starts banging on it like she owns the place. 

Of course, the doors swing open revealing a very disgruntled Alucard. 

Commence the interrogation.

She’s all like: ‘Who the fuck are you?’ 

And he’s like, ‘Um, excuse me, I live here, who the hell are you?’

And she’s like, ‘Well I lived here first!’ 

And Alucard’s like, ‘That’s a very immature argument.’ 

And she’s all like, ‘Oh yeah? You wanna go pip-squeak?’ 

And Alucard’s like ‘I’m literally a foot taller than you.’ 

And she’s like ‘Well fine, that makes you the perfect height for me to do this!’ And she knees him in the groin. 

…

…

Suddenly it clicks for Alucard. “Are you by any chance a Belmont?”

“Yeah, what’s it to ya?” 

Needless to say, the two of them are quite shocked to learn the identity of the other. She’s half in denial that her little brother, if he really is alive, would be friends with a dhampir. And Alucard’s not sure she is Trevor’s sister once they get to talking, mainly because she’s well-spoken and rather intelligent when not she’s not threatening to kick his ass, something Trevor is not. 

But from his descriptions of their battle with Dracula, her gut tells her it really must be her brother Alucard’s speaking of. 

“I take it you didn’t know he was alive, then,” Alucard says. 

She's like, yeah, no shit. 

But she still has a lot of unanswered questions: how did Trevor manage to escape? How did he survive being so young on his own? Why didn’t she hear of his existence until now? 

Alucard doesn’t have all the answers, but he does have good food and wine, so she decides to crash in the castle with him until her brother returns. 

It’s good for Alucard to have the company, mainly because he was starting to lose his mind. (Something she would pick up on like right away lol.) 

But that’s okay because almost being murdered as a kid and then running from place to place fighting the odd supernatural creature has made her a bit crazy so they’re a decent pair. 

Oddly enough, I think they sort of mellow each other out: she’s just hyper/nuts enough to get Alucard to stop wallowing in self-pity. And he’s just cautious and introverted enough to keep her from accidentally (ahem*intentionally*) burning the place down. 

Sure, there’s a lot of ribbing, and witty jokes thrown back and forth between the two of them, but they’d probably form a strong bond based on mutual respect and necessity. Alucard realizes his mental and emotional state will improve if she stays, and she realizes her chances of fulfilling her destiny as a Belmont increase tenfold should she stay and learn from the ‘enemy’ himself. 

Of course, it takes a while for them to overcome their residual prejudices of one another, especially on Belmont’s side. She’s spent her entire life viewing vampires as monsters- something to be eradicated- it’s not exactly something you can unlearn overnight. But Alucard is such an enigma, and the more she hears of his and Trevor’s travels and adventures in defeating Dracula, the more she sees him as human- the more she sees him as a friend, even. 

They get very close. So close that they even think up ways to prank Trevor once he comes back, planning especially to use her existence as the central super-charged element of surprise. 

Who knows, maybe if she was there with Alucard post-S2, things would have turned out more positively with the twins' arrival in S3. If Alucard wasn’t so dependent on them and them alone for companionship, he wouldn’t have been so hesitant to quickly teach them everything they wanted to know as a way to keep them at his castle longer. If Alucard was more open and forthcoming, the twins might have felt encouraged to put all their own cards on the table before making the drastic (and fatal) move that they did. 

Thanks to her existence, any monsters nearby stand no chance against the occupants of the castle and the surrounding villages. With the newfound double-trouble Belmonts, no one ever has to be scared (or lonely) ever again. 

#castlevania imagine #alucard imagine #alucard tepes imagine #castlevania x reader #alucard tepes x reader #adrian tepes #castlevania #hc

[zorosleftshoe]

Loveless - (c.b)

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!reader

Summary: Colby is always showing up a new girl on his arm. This time? It’s just too much.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst

“Some of us love others badly, love ourselves worse. Some of us love horrid, love beastly, love sick, love anti light. Sometimes the love can’t go home at night, can’t sleep with itself, cannot contain itself, catches fire, destroys the belly, strips buildings, goes missing. Punches. Smashes heirlooms. Tells lies. The best lies.”

It was never supposed to be anything more than a silly crush. You know, that feeling you get when he looks at you and your cheeks flush that bright cherry red that your cousin used to make fun of you for. Or when his hand bumps yours and those damn butterflies start erupting in your stomach? I never meant for it to become this.

I’m sure if anyone looked at me and saw the way my eyes glistened at Colby as his head was thrown back and a deep laugh rumbled through his stomach they would say I was infatuated. Unfortunately for myself, they would be right. I was fucked. It wasn’t a secret that Colby didn’t date. After Shea he built brick walls around his heart that even the most experienced thief couldn’t break in. I spent months chiseling away at brick after brick, begging him to let me have a peek inside, but the walls were sealed and cement was poured.

Days felt like years when I was near him. As if I was constantly being pulled towards him as if we were magnets that were always meant to collide. It was exhausting. Harboring a secret that I knew would destroy our friendship was slowly creeping under my skin and I knew it would only be so long before I caved under the pressure. I feared losing the only stability I had ever known.

So I kept quiet and smiled wide even when he would show up to group hangouts with his arm slung around another girl who was pressed up firmly against his side. Even now, as my mouth was pressed into a tight lipped smile, I could feel my heart breaking as I watched Colby laugh with Amber. Everyone knew they were friends. Much like him and I were. The only difference? I noticed how every so often her hand would glide down his arm and rest atop his for a few moments before gliding back up to his shoulder. I let out a heavy exhale and slumped further into my seat.

“Are you in?” Kat’s voice pulled me out of my negative thoughts and I hummed in response. “We were talking about going to get some burgers later. Were you too busy staring to notice?” Her question fell so effortlessly from her lips that the daggers I shot with my eyes could have pierced her. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards in a devilish smirk at my reaction. “Burgers? Yes? No?”

“If I say yes, will you let me wallow in self-pity for just a bit longer?” At my words, I couldn’t help but notice how Colby glanced towards me. His eyes finally leaving Amber and remembering my existence. He completely detached himself from her grasp and leaned forward to rest his elbows against the table.

“Self-pity? Why?” I shrugged at his response before pulling my sleeves over my knuckles and taking sanctuary in the oversized sweater. His eyebrows furrowed at my silence but he decided it was best to not poke the bear and leaned back to engage with Amber once more.

As the evening progressed the bubbling feeling in my stomach became harder to ignore and the little green monster on my shoulder more and more evident. Every giggle that fell from her rosey red lips. Every graze of the hand. Every stare that lasted a second too long. No matter what it was, my patience was thinning, and fast. The last blow was when Amber leaned in close to his ear and whispered her sweet little nothings. His hand creeped up her thigh and I couldn’t bare to watch any longer.

“Excuse me.” I pushed myself from my spot on the couch where I sat next to Kat who was nuzzled up against Sam while we all watched a few episodes of Stranger Things.

“Everything okay?” Sam asked. Concern lacing his voice. I nodded before glancing quickly over Colby who was now focused on my exit. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Just gotta go to the bathroom.” Sam hummed in response before turning back to the TV. I could hear the soft chatter from the living room with every step I took further and further away. Just as I was about to round the corner into the bathroom I felt a soft tug on my wrist. Before I could protest I was pushed into a dark room. “What the hell?” The light flickered on and I shielded my eyes before looking up to see Colby staring back at me. “Wha-“

“What’s going on? And please don’t lie to me. I’m your best friend. I know when something is up and something is up. Don’t push me away, okay?” He took a few short steps towards me but I took two steps back. “Oky, what’s your deal?” His words began to spark an anger in me. A rage that burned deep below the surface like a volcano waiting to erupt.

“My deal? What ever do you mean?” He moved passed me to sit on the bed but I didn’t dare turn around to look at him. This time I was holding my ground and pushing my feelings to the side. He scoffed at my response.

“You’re being distant. Almost hostile towards me.” At his words I spun on my heels to lock eyes with him.

“I’ll be damned if you pin this on me, Colby.” His demeanor changed at the mention of his full name. From the start of our friendship it was odd for either of us to call the other out of name. Strictly sticking to nicknames or pet names. This coldness I had towards him now was new to him. “I have not been distant. I have been supportive. I have sat on the sidelines and let you have your space while you went on how many dates now?” He cocked his head at me almost stunned by the question.

“Wha?” He paused looking at me with widened eyes. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“How many in the last week?” He thought for a moment before exhaling heavily.

“Four.” He looked up at me with heavy eyelids. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it just does, Colby.” He rose to his feet at the mention of his name and pointed a finger at me.

“Stop with the names. We don’t do that. You know we don’t do that.” I scoffed. “Tell me what the issue really is.” It’s like playing poker. You have the worst hand and you know it’s time to fold. I took two large steps up to him till we were toe to toe.

“You really wanna know?” I watched as he visibly gulped but nodded in response. “I can’t play this game with you anymore.” His face washes over in a sheet of confusion. He truly has no idea what I mean.

“I’m confused now. What game?” He moves his hand to brush a couple strands of hair out of my face and I move away from his touch. “Are you seriously okay, sweetheart?” Before I can stop it a bitter laugh escapes my lips in the form of an exhale.

“This,” I pause motioning between us with a single finger. “I’m not a naive person, Colby. I know your track record when it comes to past girlfriends. I know that if anything I would only ever be another notch in your belt, yet, as foolish as it was, I fell in love with you.” He went to speak but I shook my head. “And I’ve carried this secret with me for months because I know that nothing will ever happen between us. I know that you don’t feel as I do. Because the way I feel about you makes me physically ill. It keeps me up at night. The way I love you is like a poison in my blood slowly killing me but I allow it because if it’s the only way I get to have you, then so be it.” By now the tears were flowing and Colby stood motionless.

“I don’t know what to say.” My eyes closed and I chuckled sadly.

“Honestly, Colby? I didn’t even expect you to.” Without another word I turned on my heels and retreated from the room. I didn’t dare look back in fear if I did I would see Colby standing with my bleeding heart at his feet.

In the weeks that followed I had been radio silent. Kat and Sam had gone out of their way to reach out to me. Even swinging by my apartment to drop off necessities they knew I would need. According to a long and thought out text from Kat, my mother became worried and had reached out to her. If anyone could get me to talk, it would be Kat.

But three weeks and two days wasn’t enough to drown the pain of losing Colby. Not even enough to dull it, make it bearable. Just as I thought I would break the surface and take that breath I so desperately needed, another wave came crashing into me, dragging me further into the abyss.

Most days I wanted to blame him. Blame him for not returning the feelings that had crept up on me but I knew it wasn’t his fault. He swore off love and it didn’t matter who tried to rescue him from the tower and slay the dragon. He was content.

A knock on my door pulled my attention away from the movie playing on the TV. I sighed heavily. The walk to the door felt as if it were miles but as the door opened my heart dropped into my stomach.

“Hey, can we talk?” Colby looked down at his shoes and used the tip of his boot to scuff the floor. “I feel like we’ve had enough time apart to figure shit out.” He motioned passed me as if asking if he could come into my apartment. Hesitantly I opened the door wider and stepped to the side allowing him to move beside me. I followed close behind Colby into the living room and watched as he sat on the couch. For a moment he dropped his head into his hands before rubbing his face and looking up at me. “Will you sit please?”

“What do you want to talk about?” I knew. The hollowness in my chest where my heart had previously been was a clear indicator but I needed to hear him say it.

“Can we please not do this today?” He questioned sadly. “I’ve spent the last three weeks trying to decide time and time again what I wanted to say to you. I still don’t know if I’ve got it right, but I want to give it a shot.” I nodded for him to continue. “For starters, I’m sorry that I didn’t come after you that night. That was my first mistake. Then I started thinking about what you said.” He paused looking down at his hands and fiddling with his fingers.

“We can just forget that it happened.” I wagered. That’s what was best. It’s what we were good at.

“I don’t,” he paused again. “I don’t want to forget it. But, you have to know that I would never love you the way you deserve. I would love you badly. Wrongly.” My chest felt heavy at his words. “That’s not me saying I don’t return your feelings either. I do love you. I just,” he paused shaking his head and looking around the room. “I would mess this up. I can never be the person you’re looking for.” His words angered me.

“Who are you to decide that for me?” He went to speak but I raised my hand. “You make it sound like you don’t want to give me a chance because you’re afraid you’ll hurt me? Well, guess what, Colby? You already did that. Because of you I spent the last three years in fucking armor making sure no one gets close enough to fucking hurt me. Waiting on you! Loving you! You do not get to make the hard decisions for me.” Colby sighed heavily.

“What do you want me to do? You said it yourself. I don’t date. I love you but I don’t make exceptions.” I scoffed angrily.

“Because of Shea?” His shoulders dropped at my words. “Yeah. It always comes back to her doesn’t it?” Colby went to reach for my hand but I rose to my feet. “You should go.”

“Sweetheart-“

“Don’t. Just get out.” Colby groaned before standing up and spinning around to look out the window. “I’m serious, Colby. Get out, now-“

“Would you listen to me?” His voice was rising in volume and the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Our expressions mirrored each other, ones of sadness and longing. The tears now rolling freely down both of our faces. “You were there. You saw what loving her did to me. It fucking broke me. When she left I was a shell of the man I once was. It took months, hell, years for me to come back to everyone.”

“Then why are we fighting over this? Why are we wasting each others time?” I could see the frustration in his eyes as he watched me intently. Neither of us moved.

“Because I’m afraid if I walk out that door, this is the last memory I’ll ever have of you.” His words were nothing but a whisper as his eyes pleaded with me. “I’ve lost so many people. I don’t know how to survive losing you.”

“I don’t know how to get passed this.” All of the anger in the room had vanished. It was replaced with an emptiness. A darkness that was slowly enveloping Colby and I. “I’m sorry.” His body began to tremble at my apology and a few seconds later sobs wracked his body. “I’m just sorry.”

“What if we try?” I let out a breathy chuckle and took a seat on the couch.

“Try what?”

“Dating. If it means that you’ll stay, I’ll do it.” I shook my head at his offer.

“Absolutely not, Colby. I’m not forcing you into a relationship you don’t want.” He sat down next to me and took my hands. By now his eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot by the tears that rolled down his cheeks.

“No one forces me to do anything.” He used his hands to cup my cheeks and lock eyes with him. “If you want this, I will do it. Because you’re allowed to be happy. And I want you to be happy. More than anything. So please, sweetheart, just give me the word, and I’ll be yours.”

“Colby-“

“I mean it. Please.” I nodded and he let out a sigh of relief before resting his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I really do love you. I have for awhile. I just never thought I could be the man you need. I’m still not sure-“ his words were silenced by my lips against his. He moved one hand to my neck as the other held tighter my jaw holding me in place.

“I love you, Colbs.” I said once we pulled away, desperate for air. He smiled before resting his head against my shoulder.

“I love you, sweetheart. I promise I’ll never let you go.” I sighed happily at his words before looking down at our intwined fingers.

“Think you could hold off on that promise for an hour? I have to make dinner.” Colby chuckled before collapsing onto the couch and turning the TV on.

“Sure. Just know we’ve got three weeks to make up for when you’re done.” If there were one word to describe what I felt looking at him as the TV light illuminated his face it would be magic. Absolute magic.

#colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock angst #colby brock imagine #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #sam and colby

[adaesc]

Dick Grayson helps you through a breakdown and I think it would be cute if reader and dick danced together after

ty for request anon! <3 I'll try my best!

warnings/content: tooth rotting fluff, anxiety, panic attacks, nightmare, hella angsty

pairing: Dick Grayson x civilian!gf!reader

word count: 1.6k!

-

He's never went radio silent like this. Dick had his fair share of missions and adventures where he wouldn't be able to speak, this time he didn't even warn you before he left. This time was different.

You knew sometimes he would go on missions, the vigilante life wasn't for the faint of heart. Being his civilian girlfriend added an unneeded blanket of worry onto the mix. This time was different.

You hadn't had the best day, it was full of stressors. People from work, work itself, and a plethora of other issues had been piling up for a while and it was overwhelming. Looming over you drearily. Not only had life been incredibly difficult as-of-late, but also Dick hadn't been answering his phone. You thought he might have just been busy, trying your hardest not to make assumptions out of nothing.

"This mailbox is full and cannot accept any messages at this time. Goodbye."

It was the 39th missed call. It had been 4 days. You started thinking irrationally, blowing up his phone with texts, calls, facetimes, anything you could do to notify his phone you would do. He never replied to anything.

You were overflowing with stress, anxiety, and worry. You couldn't get yourself to go into work, eat anything, you weren't answering anyone's calls. You mirrored the same thing Dick had been doing for so long. It felt like an eternity waiting for him to say something, for anyone to tell you Dick was okay. Daydreaming of the moment he would come home and you could run into his arms, holding onto him so, so tight. Daydreaming of the moment where he would explain where he had been.

What if he had found someone better? What if he had found the girl of his dreams? Maybe he went back to Babs or Kory?

You knew he wouldn't but what if he did?

You were wallowing in self pity and wailing in anguish. It was so tiring wondering where Dick had gone, wondering about

Having enough of waiting hopelessly to come back, you called his father, Bruce Wayne. Bruce, unsurprisingly, picked up the phone immediately. You had always been the favorite of his sons partners.

"Hello. You've reached Bruce Wayne."

"Hi, Bruce. Excuse me when I ask this, I don't mean to rear my head in where it's not needed but, where the fuck is your son."

"I have multiple, which son are you looking for?" He questioned, puzzled.

"Dick. Where is Dick. He's been radio silent for about a week and I'm worried. He didn't tell me where he would be, and all of a sudden he's just gone."

"I can't confirm his location as of now. I'm sorry, Y/N."

"Fuck.." You could feel the tears threatening to pour out of your eyes. Your face was hot, you felt like you were going to melt. Eyes on fire, you let the tears fall for the faintest hope of soothing the pain.

"What do you mean you don't know where he is..? You have all of that fancy tech shit in your cave but can't track your fucking son? This is such bullshit.." You brimmed with despair and anguish, wanting to get off the phone as soon as possible. You didn't think you could handle another word from Bruce. Pulling the phone away from your ear, you went to hang up, before hanging up you heard,

"I'm sorry Y/N."

Lies. There was no way Bruce didn't know where Dick was. He was hiding something from you and you knew it.

-

All of the stress had towered over you. It was not the second week of Dick's disappearance, every night you would stay up late and hope he would swing through the window. He never did.

You came home and Dick wasn't there. Again. It was now the fourteenth day of Dick being gone. You were so exhausted of staying up late, you walked through the door after getting off work and didn't see him. Immediately you started crying hot tears, it felt like hot lava streamed down your face. You didn't bother doing anything but slamming the door shut and walking to your room. Dropping face down on the pillow, sleep immediately took you. Coddling you in it's arms, you embraced it.

You woke up, stale-faced from tears, immediately rubbing your face to get rid of the evidence of your sorrow. Checking the alarm clock you saw the time. 3:37 A.M. The spot next to you on the bed empty. You couldn't help but weep. You balled up, knees to your chest in fetal position, you took a tight clutch onto your arms, digging your nails into the warm flesh. You bawled for what felt like forever.

Your mind was running faster then a freight train, all of your thoughts and doubts and overthinking ran by in a whirlwind. You didn't know what to make of yourself. You knew you were a mess, you knew your hair wasn't brushed and shaggy, you knew your eyes had bags under them and your makeup was ruined, you knew you had let this mess swallow you whole, transforming you. You knew all of this yet, what could you do? Dick had left you. No doubts about it, you knew he went back to Babs, Kory, maybe someone even better. The doubts you had since you and Dick got together were rearing their ugly heads.

You let go of your arms and went to tug on your hair, balling your fists up into the strands. Nothing felt real. Dick leaving didn't feel real. Bruce not knowing where he was, didn't feel real. You didn't feel real. You needed some confirmation that you were there and you were real, so you grabbed your hair and pulled it, bawling, crying, screaming. You didn't think Dick would come back. He was gone, and you wouldn't lay your eyes upon him unless it was with another.

*Creaaaaak*

"....Y/N?"

Your head slowly turned to your bedroom window.

"....Dick?"

You stared blankly at him, you didn't have the energy to hug him, how could you after what happened?

You didn't need to say anything for him to know what you wanted. He walked over to you, sitting on the bed, and pulled you into his chest. He laid your head onto his chest and put his head on top of yours, petting your back with one of his hands and playing with your hair in the other.

You said nothing. Dick knew you were mad, but that was for you and him to talk about later. He just kept on petting your back and playing with your hair. He whispered sweet nothings and "I'm sorry" over and over to you.

"Y/N, baby, I'm so fuckin' sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am." He pulled your head out of his chest and made eye contact with you, "Please, I know I fucked up, I'm so, so, so sorry. Please say something, I'll explain just please talk to me"

You spoke up.

"...I was worried sick for you Dick. I called you so many times and I didn't get a voicemail or anything, Bruce didn't even know where you were. You just went ghost. Gone. Completely silent." You knew you were crying and sniffling, but it didn't matter.

"I know, trust me I feel like shit." He sighed, he knew how disappointed you were in him, "Cobblepot has been sneaking gun shipments in from Blüdhaven. I had to do a mission completely radio silent so we could pinpoint the origin of the guns and take down the manufacturer or whoever was selling them to Cobblepot under the table. I would never have left you like that on purpose, I promise. Bruce knew where I was going but couldn't tell you. I wanted to keep you safe, Y/N. I wouldn't have just left you like that, I love you. Please forgive me, I know I worried you and I can't apologize enough, if you want to leave or need a few days I won't blame you. Just please know I would never do anything on purpose to hurt you." He was starting to cry, you could see the tears in his glassy, blue eyes.

You let out a slight, awkward-yet-approving laugh. You forgave him but couldn't find the words to say. So you grabbed him cheek with your hand and pulled his face close, angling it to kiss him. Kissing him lovingly, the worry still prevalent yet faded, he kissed back. He knew this was a sign you forgave him and went along with it. It was caring and loving, a way of showing you accepted his apology.

"Yeah, I forgive you. You're still a dick, Dick. But I forgive you." Both of you giggled.

He stood up and grabbed your hands, bringing you to your feet. Pulling you into a short hug, you were shocked when he put one hand on your waist and put yours on his shoulder, connecting your shared remaining hands in a tight hold. Securing Waltz formation.

"Dick you can't be serious." The tears in both of your eyes still drying, you both let out a stifled laugh

"As serious as ever." He started to sway both of your bodies and dragging his feet on the floor, copying the footwork you two knew oh so well from the annual Wayne gala's or charity events.

You both danced to no music, the only sound filling the room was the shared laughter you both exclaimed brightly. You kept on dancing in Waltz formation for what felt like forever. There was no music to ensure you're rhythm, but you didn't need any. With Dick, you two could just connect to the music, it was a way to spice up the Gala's that you both shared. It was a burst of sunshine, a glimmer of hope in the abyss you had been in recently.

Dick was home.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dc #nightwing #batman #bruce wayne #batfamily #angst with a happy ending #angst #fluff #dancing #my fic

[haihaihaitani]

4:46 PM ~ *Chifuyu Matsuno*

Summary: You forgot your umbrella. Luckily Chifuyu has one to share.

Pairing: Chifuyu Matsuno X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 760

Warning: Tooth rotting fluffiness

Masterlist

Taglist: @soulangel

Rain. Of course it was raining. And of course you forgot your umbrella. Really, you should have known better. It’s been raining all week. Why would today be any different?

With a dejected sigh, you slid down the wall and sat in front of the door. It was the only thing you could do at the moment. There was no way you were going out in that storm! You didn’t want to get soaked or sick.

Another thing you didn’t want to do was wallow in your self pity. Sure, you had no one to blame but yourself but that didn’t mean you wanted to think about it. It was your own fault you were in this situation and you were the only one who could get you out of it. You searched your bag to try and find something to block the rain.

“Y/n?” A soft voice called out to you.

You glanced up to see Chifuyu looking back at you with concern in his eyes. “Oh, hi, Chifuyu. Heading out?”

He nodded. “Yes, I am. Did you lose your umbrella?”

“More like I forgot it.” You admitted with a groan.

“Oh, I see.” He pulled an umbrella out of his bag and you winced internally. It seemed you really were the only one who forgot one.

“You don’t live too far from here, correct?” He asked.

Blinking in shock, you hesitated. He wasn’t implying what you thought he was implying was he? “Um… yes?”

Apparently he was, because he said, “Well, you can walk with me if you’d like, since I have an umbrella. I don’t mind sharing.”

Matching blushes painted themselves on yours and his cheeks, so you decided to glance outside at the storm. Making your decision, you stood up. “Alright, thank you, Chifuyu. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome, Y/n.”

The two of you walked outside, Chifuyu making sure neither of you got wet. While he kept his eye on the umbrella, you helped avoid big puddles. It was an excuse to not look at him.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a little crush on him. Correction: a massive crush on him. But then again, who wouldn’t? He was smart, sweet, and strong. He could make anyone smile just by smiling first. Chifuyu truly was like an angel on Earth. Obviously, he was sharing his umbrella with you when he didn’t have to!

A truck was rumbling towards the two of you and you jumped out of the way so you didn’t get splashed. This caused you to grab the umbrella to steady yourself and knock shoulders with Chifuyu. He paused and grabbed your other shoulder to keep you both stable.

“Are you alright?” He squeaked out.

“I’m fine.” You nodded shyly, averting your eyes. However, you noticed that your hand was practically on top of his. That must have happened when you grabbed the umbrella to steady yourself. Your cheeks burned hot and you slowly removed your hand.

“Sorry.” You mumbled.

“It’s okay!” He answered a bit too quickly.

The rest of the walk passed in awkward silence. You couldn’t seem to shake the blush that was keeping your cheeks warm. It also didn’t help that your hands broke out into a cold sweat. Seriously, now was not the time to be acting like a shy, lovestruck child!

However, when you snuck a glance at Chifuyu, you noticed that he looked nervous as well. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he looked positively flustered. But you didn’t have time to ponder that idea, as you had arrived home.

“Well this is me.” You muttered.

He nodded, still holding the umbrella over you so that you could fish out your key without getting wet. “See you tomorrow, Y/n?”

You nodded and locked eyes with him. All of a sudden you felt the overwhelming urge to kiss him. But that was absolutely crazy! He didn’t like you the way you liked him, right? Well, there was only one way to find out…

“Bye Chifuyu.” You said and then kissed his cheek. You rushed inside before he could answer, your heart practically beating out of your chest.

Chifuyu touched his cheek where you kissed him and felt his heart skip a beat. If he didn’t know any better, you seemed to like him too. As he set off in the opposite direction to where he lived, he silently hoped that you would forget your umbrella tomorrow so he could do this all over again.

#Tokyo Revengers #Tokyo Revengers Fanfiction #Tokyo Revengers Drabble #Anime #Anime Fanfiction #Anime Drabble #Tokyo Manji Gang #Chifuyu Matsuno #Chifuyu Matsuno X Reader #Chifuyu Matsuno Fanfiction #Chifuyu Matsuno Drabble #Chifuyu Matsuno Fluff #Chifuyu #Chifuyu X Reader #Chifuyu Fanfiction #Chifuyu Drabble #Chifuyu Fluff #Drabble #Fluff

[mrswolffs-blog]

He Showed Up: Lewis Hamilton x Black!Caribbean!Reader

Y/n and Lewis had met at Coachella, where they were both in the same situation of being dragged there by their friends even though they wanted to stay home. Throughout the night, they talked and laughed, drank and danced until their fun exceeded to Lewis’ hotel room. The next morning Lewis woke up to the beautiful woman next to him that he hoped would be interested in dating him despite the circumstances of how they met and what they had already done. However, Y/n was the complete opposite as she woke up to the sound of Lewis having a shower and was entirely embarrassed as she quickly got dressed and left the room, leaving no traces of herself behind as she made her way home to wallow in shame and self pity. Lewis was now left heartbroken as he came to find that she left without even saying goodbye, luckily he had her social account that even though she restricted him from texting, he was still able to see her posts and stories.

Three months went by and Y/n was completely sick since the end of the first month after the interaction, yet she thought it was just something going on with her body and went on taking medications. Shocking to find out at her six months check up that happens twice a year, that she was pregnant, and that the medications she had been taking may or may not have caused harm to the fetus. Feeling every emotion under the sun, she broke down into tears worried of how she would look after both herself and her child, seeming that her family abandoned her and her friends are most of the times busy and unable to help.

Overtime of taking the prenatal vitamins and other prescribed medications, she was finally in the somewhat clear during her sixth month of pregnancy. Unbeknownst to her, Lewis had followed her on instagram using Roscoe’s account and had been watching every post she made and so he was aware that she was pregnant. He eventually got one of her female friends to meet with him, where she gave him further updates about Y/n’s pregnancy as he also would buy things things for the baby, delivering them straight to her address, confusing both the pregnant woman and delivery men as she knew she didn’t have the sources to purchase whatever came onto her doorstep. Lewis then went all out to plan for the friend to get Y/n out of the house so he could go in with Toto, Susie, Angela, George, Mick and Sebastian to quickly set up the surprise nursery that her friend had ‘planned’.

Moving up to the ninth month, Y/n was now in the hospital as her water had broke and contraction already started. Y/n’s friend excused herself with the reason of needing to use the bathroom as she went to call Lewis, informing him that Y/n was ready to give birth. Lewis was so excited as he told his family who told him to hurry on, as he sped off to the hospital. Upon arrival, Y/n friend was waiting for him at the entrance as he parked and strides across the road, they hurriedly made it to the room that Y/n was admitted into.

“Hi cutie how are you feeling?”Y/n’s friend tried to cheer her up as she noticed the pain and worry on her face. “I’m scared my baby may not be healthy and it would be all my fault. The worse part is that I have no support but you, as the father or my family aren’t here. How will I do this Anita? I’m struggling now and I’m gonna suffer even more after this. I don’t want anything to happen to us, especially not my baby. I can’t even feel my my baby moving anymore. I would never forgive myself if something goes wrong!”Y/n cried into Anita’s arms, her body weak and in pain as she awaits the arrival of her baby. “Listen, I know things are hard right now, but I promise you have a lot of support. You’ll get through this and nothing will happen to either of you. Just so you know, there’s someone outside that waiting to be by your side so I’m gonna go sit in the waiting room while you’re here and after the birth of my Godbaby, the person will come and call me when you decide that you allow visitors, ok?” Anita asked calmly as Y/n slowly nodded her head, feeling herself slip into sleep.

Anita walked out the door signalling for Lewis to go in as she went to the waiting room. Y/n was about to drift off into sleep when she heard the door open and turned her head to look at the intruder, only to find the father of her soon to be born baby smiling at her with flowers in his hand and a water bottle in the other. “Lewis? How did you find me?!” Y/n asked surprised as to how he could’ve known about this happening. “I found out through instagram and your friend Anita who I had been in touch with since your fifth month. How are you holding up? I got you some flowers” Lewis spoke to her softly and he placed the vases flowers on the table and sat next to her holding her hand. “I’m drained, scared, worried, sad, happy. I don’t know what to feel.” Y/n expresses as the tears started flowing once again. “You’ll be fine sweetheart, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing an amazing job and it’s not your fault for what happened, just know that I will love our baby either way” Lewis reassured as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

The process sped up as Y/n was now fully dilated and was ready to push, the fear, worry and extreme anxiety started rushing through Y/n veins as she cried for her baby to be ok, with Lewis whispering gentle words and prayers into her ears. “C’mon Y/n, you’ll be fine and our baby will be healthy. You’re strong and resilient, I know you can do this. Just one more push and we’re done” Lewis encouraged but was met with “No, I can’t do this anymore! It hurts Lew, it hurts! Please let them make it stop!”Y/n screamed into Lewis’ now tear soaked shirt as he rubbed her back and kissed her sweaty forehead. “Yes you can do it, the head is already out, we just need one last push and you’re done, the pain will not be so severe. Just take a deep breath and push when you’re ready, yeah?” Lewis encouraged once more, resulting in a war cry from Y/n that almost shook the room as their baby came sliding out fully into the world.

“Omg, congratulations Ms. Y/n. You’ve just welcome the most healthy and beautiful baby boy!” The doctor cheered as he placed the newborn onto her chest, Y/n and Lewis crying their eyes out at the sight of their son. The doctors then cleaned up and did all the necessary checks and paperwork for both Y/n and the baby before they were left to privacy.

“He’s adorable” Lewis sue as he held his son skin to skin on his bare chest. “I never thought I’d have kids this early, but I’m glad I did now. I guess I felt like I was too old to tart having kids no and I was originally gonna give up, but seeing what we created made me change my mind. I know you have a name for him, Anita told me it was special but I don’t know what it is?” Lewis asked as he placed the baby into the bassinet. “I don’t know if you’ll like it, I wanted to name him Milo Nicholas Anthony Hamilton” Y/n said with tears gathering in her eyes as he saw Lewis completely break down at the honour in his son’s name. “I love it, and I know that my dad and brother will love it too” Lewis said between sniffles as he hugged a postpartum Y/n who has fallen asleep.

Lewis then made his way back over to the bassinet, picking up his baby and walking around with him. “Hi Milo, I’m your daddy. I know you might be confused as you never heard my voice while you were in mummy’s tummy, but I promise you that I’m here now and you will never have to worry about not hearing me again. I promise to always be there to guide and protect both you and your mummy. I promise to try to be the best father that myself allows and to lows be there for you in any situation. I want you to know that I love you and mummy very much, I think I might ask her to marry me. What do you think bud? But anyways I know you’re sleeping soI’m gonna put you back down and let you rest. Good night my sweet boy” Lewis declared as he kissed the baby’s forehead and placed him back in the bassinet, scooting into the hospital bed to cuddle with Y/n as he fell asleep knowing that he now had a family of his own after years of waiting.

The next day, a post was made that informed everyone of the precious surprise that spun the world of its axis.

LewisHamilton: I wanted to inform you all that I welcomed my first child yesterday night. Milo Nicholas Anthony Hamilton is a blessing In my life and will now become my biggest priority (of course above F1) no doubt.

The comments for this post has been restricted.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic #toto wolff

[rancidpancakebatter]

hey, i hope you're doing amazing! i was wondering if you could write a tasm!peter fic based on the song 'honest' by the neighbourhood? it can be reaaally angst, i promise i won't complain, not even a little bit! thankk you soo muuch in advance, i love your writing! ♡

You want angst? I'll give you angst

Honest by The Neighborhood [P.P.] | The Playlist

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: Peter is lying. Peter has been lying. And now you have to find out why.

Content: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption (legal age), Mentions of blood (Spider-Man injuries but nothing too graphic), break up,

( Paylist | Masterlist | Fic Break down: 1|2])

A/N: I'm making my way through my asks and It's been great. Thank you for all that submit things to my ask box, I love seeing it :))

You pace your room, a vexing mix of emotions swirling in your gut. You had to talk to him. You couldn’t keep doing this. You were confused. You were angry. You were hurt. But really you were scared. You were scared for Peter. You couldn’t understand it. You couldn’t understand him.

You were supposed to have a date last night. You had been looking forward to it all week. Your boss had been up your ass lately, demanding you reformat your analytics debrief six different times. There was family drama your mother was constantly updating you on and asking for guidance in a situation you were too exhausted to deal with. And you hadn’t had a chance to go grocery shopping (due to the overtime you had to put in), so your cabinets were bare and your fridge bereft.

All-in-all, not a good time. Peter had promised that he would see you. That you would be together. But instead, you waited in your fancy dress and painful shoes for four hours, drowning your sorrows in wine and staring at your unanswered texts. Waiting, always waiting.

Peter had always been a bit flakey. He would often ask to reschedule or push back plans, garnering some excuse as to why he couldn’t make it on time. It was a bit annoying, but not the end of the world. Peter liked to take things slow, and you respected that.

You went on seven dates before he kissed you. You'd been dating for six months before he said I love you, and you didn’t sleep together until a month later. You figured Peter just had a fear of intimacy, but he seemed to be trying, and you didn’t want to pressure him. But he has pushed you too far. Your patience is gone. 

The wine was almost empty; you had ditched your glass a while ago. There was no point in keeping up with social etiquettes when it was just you. It’s not like you were going to share it with anyone. Not anymore, at least.

You heard a knock on your door and made no attempt to answer it. You were playing music, but it wasn’t loud enough to warrant a visit from any neighbours. You didn’t feel up to a social call, so you continued to wallow. 

“(Y/n)? (Y/n), honey, it’s me. Can you open the door please?”

For a moment, you thought it was a hallucination. Your drunken mind stringing you along, taunting you with the one thing you wanted. 

He knocked again, “(Y/n), I know you’re in there. Just open the door.”

You scoffed and took another sip, “Look, your mad; I get it. I understand, and you have every right to be. I’m so, so sorry. Please, I- I want to apologise.”

You felt your body temperature rise and anger slowly build in your veins as it pushed out the self-pity you had once been filled with. You took unsteady steps towards the door, the cold tile against your bare feet making you shiver.

You undid the deadbolt but kept the chain in place, opening the door and peeking your face through the gap. You just looked at each other for a moment, a silent stare down. Your gaze held a certain animosity, while his was filled with relief, though it grew confused when the door stayed in its partially opened state. 

“Can I come in?” You say nothing as you continue to stare him down.

“Please, I know you’re mad-” If he says that again you just might scream. Actually, that’s not a bad idea. 

“You don’t know anything, Peter.” Your words slur together, and the t’s don’t come out just right, but you’re sure he understands precisely how angry you are with the venom you spit out alongside his name. 

His brows furrow as he looks over your face. “Are you- are you drunk?”

You keep your glare intact as you think over your answer. You could lie, but you didn’t need a mirror to tell you that your cheeks were adorned by a familiar warmth, and your lips were surely tinted with an obvious magenta stain.

“Yes, but that’s none of your business. Good night.” You move to close the door, but Peter’s hand stops you. 

“Uhng- Wait. Ow, shit- just wait a second, please.” You slowly open the door again, not for his pleas but for his expressions of pain. 

This time you look at him, really look at him. You can see a bit of blood on his lip, a bruise on his cheek, and his hand holding his side. You feel a chill run down your spine. 

“Back up.” He takes a step back, taking his weight off the door while you undo the chain lock and usher him inside. 

You set him on the couch and winced along with him. You rushed to your bathroom and prepared a warm washcloth and some band-aids you found under the sink. Maybe you should invest in a first-aid kit. You had never needed one before.

You returned to Peter’s side and raised your hand to his face. It wasn’t really necessary, his eyes have been locked on you since entering. But you lifted his chin anyway, a silent promise to hold him close.

You wiped gingerly at his lip, wiping away any dried blood and grime. It was obvious that he had wiped at it a few times. 

“I’m so sorry. Really I-” You lightly pinched his chin. 

“Hush. I don’t need an apology. I- I just…Peter, are you okay?” You could feel your eyes watering, tears swimming forth and resting on the verge.

In his eyes, you could see the once-sweet cacao of his irises tainted by fear and distress. It pained you to see it, so you stopped looking. You grabbed his hands instead, gingerly wiping down each finger, tracing the tendons and fate lines. 

“I’ll be okay.” His hand was still holding his side, and you moved it, slowly lifting his shirt to look underneath. 

The wound stretched from his lat to his hip, twisting toward his stomach. It looked like a giant rug burn. No, more like a scrape you would get on your knee after tripping on the sidewalk. Only deeper. You could still see bits of gravel lodged between the flesh, and you grimaced at the thought. That had to be so very painful.

You wished you had rubbing alcohol so you could clean it. A wound of that size, that exposed, was sure to get infected. You used the rag as gently as possible and mumbled a sorry every time he hissed. You didn’t make much progress before he grabbed your hand, calling your name sweetly. 

“Hey, hey. Just leave it be. Really, it’s fine.” He tries to comfort you with a smile, but it’s tired at the edges, his drooping eyes not matching the expression.

You can feel yourself choking up but try to swallow it down because Peter needs you right now. He shouldn’t have to be the strong one.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, “Wh-what happened, Pete? Who did this to you?”

He swallows before he answers.

“I…got mugged.” You tense for a second.

“You got mugged?” If Peter noticed how your concern drifts, he made no comment on the matter.

“…Yes.” You drop his hands, let go of him.

You turned your body away as you stared at the wall. Your tears were dangerously close to falling. This is when your patience broke. This exact moment. It snapped, stretched too thin and tested too often.

It shattered along with your heart, shards scattered across the uneven floors of your apartment. The wine in your system did nothing to dull the pain of heartbreak. You felt every crack and splinter as it slowly broke apart, then burst all at once.

“Are you sure?” Your voice is cold, your capability for sympathy floating away in waves. 

You saw him tilt his head in confusion from your peripheral. Any other time you would have thought it was adorable- compared him to a Yorkie or a Spaniel- but his act of innocence only made you angrier now.  

“Yeah…why?” 

You remained silent as you got up from your seat, walking around the back of the couch to the side he was sitting on. You grabbed his backpack, tucked into the side as if he had hidden it, and dropped it on the coffee table. Peter’s eyes widened at the site. 

“So you got mugged…and your backpack is still in perfect order?”

The canvas was unstained, the zippers undamaged. The bag was in its normal state of distress. You watched as his face began to flush, and his mouth opened and closed uselessly.

You waited for a response, but when he refused to give one- you pushed forward. You unzipped its pockets and pulled out the valuables that were all unharmed and very obtainable to anyone who wanted to take them by force. 

“You got mugged, and they let you keep your camera, your laptop, the Beats I got you for Chanukah, and your wallet with… ” You dramatically counted the cash in front of him, “forty-two dollars in it?” 

“It- he…uh… ” You tapped your foot as your arms rested firmly in a crossed position. 

“It wasn’t a successful mugging,” He finally settled on. 

“What happened? Exactly.” Peter squirmed on the couch a bit as if running from your anger. 

“He, uh, stopped me. And then he took out a… knife. And then he told me to give him all my stuff, and when I started to run, he knocked me down. We fought for a bit, and then I got away.” Peter looked you in the eyes while he uttered, which only infuriated you more.

“When did this happen? Where? What did he look like?”

You continued to grill him as he fumbled through each answer he gave you. Your anger climbed with every word he said. He might have been able to convince May, but you knew his tells. 

Usually, he would ramble, giving entirely too much context to a situation, caught up wholly in the story. But when he lied, he said as little as possible. Peter fidgeted a lot. If he was sitting, you could bet one, if not both, of his feet, were bouncing. But now he sat before you almost perfectly still. Shifting his body around slowly, his discomfort evident.

“Peter, how the fuck do you get yanked across the concrete hard enough to get an injury like that? Did you get assaulted by Mike Tyson? It looks like you were hitched to a truck and dragged.” You ask, angrily pointing at where his hand continues to rest on his side.

“You’ve told me this story three times now, and not once did you mention that. I’m not buying it; just tell me what happened.” You watch as Pete shifts again, propping his elbows on his knees as he brings his head into his palms.

He sits there for a moment before he ruffles his hair and sits back up. “Okay, you got me. I-I fell on my skateboard. I was just embarrassed about it.”

“You missed our date…because you were skateboarding.” It wasn’t a question because that wasn’t the truth either. "You're telling me that you hurt yourself this severely, and disappeared for however many hours because you randomly decided to ride your skateboard for the first time in almost a year, and you were embarrassed."

Peter broke out into another story, but you blocked it out. You weren’t a particularly violent person, but Peter was pushing you to that level.

You clenched your fist as you fought the urge to grab everything within reach and chuck it at his incredibly thick head, maybe knocking some sense into him. You felt like you were losing your mind. You were seconds from snapping, and you weren’t sure what that would look like.

Your head was pounding, and your buzz was long gone. You weighed your options for a minute before releasing a terse sigh, cutting off his newly woven tall tale.

“Are you gonna bleed out and die tonight?” You still couldn’t look at him; you focused instead on memorising the phosphenes dancing behind your eyelids.

“No, I’ll be okay, I promise.”

You almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of his statement. Here you were, arguing over his blatant dishonesty, and he thinks you’ll accept his promise? You felt sore from the way your muscles had been tensing.

“Then get out.” You didn’t need to look at him to know how pitiful he must look. 

“What?” He sounded so small, and you felt bad for a moment, but only a moment. 

“I said, get out, Peter. If you can’t be honest with me, then…just leave.” You finally open your eyes, utterly defeated.

He stood, taking a step toward you but stopping when you backed away. “(Y/n/n), I’m telling you the truth-”

“No! You’re not! And I don’t want to hear another word. Not tonight.” You held your head in your hands, blinking back tears. 

He froze, staring at you incredulously. He looked completely distraught, and while you wanted to feel bad, all you could think was maybe now he understood how you felt. Just how terrible this exchange made you feel.

You didn’t really want to kick him out; you wanted him to hold you close and tell you everything was okay. You wanted him to change into his sweats and scold you for stealing his sleep shirt, forcing him to remain shirtless. You wanted him to complain about you keeping him up by staring at him while he tried to sleep. You wanted him to retaliate by rolling over on top of you, peppering you kisses and pretending to fall asleep like that.

You wanted to go back, return to normalcy. But the damage was done, and no patchwork could turn this around. 

You pushed his backpack toward him, across the table, and that seemed to break him from his trance. He slowly threw it over his shoulder, giving you a tearful glance before he walked to the door. You followed him to the threshold, and he only took one step into the hallway before whipping around to face you. 

“Not tonight…but when?”

You hastily swiped a tear that had fallen from your eye, “I need space. I need to calm down and think before we discuss this anymore.”

Peter's jaw quivered slightly before he forced the muscles to tighten. He turned, and his heavy steps echoed in the hall. You close the door behind him and finally let the tears fall. Your body racked with sobs as you sunk to the floor, the exhaustion catching up to you. You felt utterly deflated, devastated by Peter’s inability to just talk to you, to be honest. You ended up falling asleep there. 

Three days had passed. Peter had texted you thrice. That night he told he was sorry and he hoped you were okay. You didn’t respond.

Obviously, you weren’t okay, but you didn’t know how to communicate that without blaming him and inevitably starting another fight. He texted you again halfway through the next day to ask how yours was. You had spent it fighting the urge to go to Aunt May to cry to her instead of your playlist of heartwrenching songs.

You knew she would give you comfort and support, knowing exactly how it feels to be lied to by Peter, but you also didn’t want to put her in that situation. You didn’t tell him this; you didn’t say anything. The last message Peter sent you just read: “let me know when you’re ready to talk. I’ll be here.”

As you paced around your bedroom, you think you’ve finally reached a mindset that was level-headed-adjacent. You had calmed down significantly.

You didn’t like feeling angry. But for you to get as upset as you did, was borderline unacceptable. You had to acknowledge that Peter’s lies had been gnawing at you for a while so you could begin to heal. And now, as the sun sits high in the sky, you bask in its beams. You sit on your bed and hug a pillow to your chest; your phone weighs heavy in your hands as your thumbs hover over your keypad. 

You had come to the conclusion that you were both at fault. Peter had lied. He had lied often. He had scared you. He kept you in the dark, but you made it your home. You never called him out for it. You never communicated your fear or concern, or why you felt you needed him to tell you the truth. But you also realised that being open and honest, that communication, came with trust.

If Peter wasn’t coming to you, it was because he didn’t trust you, and you had to open your mind to the possibility that that could be your fault. You decided that needed to be the basis of your conversation. And you were finally ready to do it. You were determined to save this relationship.

You texted Peter that you were ready to talk, and for once, he responded immediately. You felt a little bad that he hadn’t heard from you yet, but you didn’t want to lash out; you were looking for a resolution. You asked to meet at his place, “I’m home all day.”

You go over everything you want to say as you walk down the street. It was a forty-five-minute walk between you and Peter’s place. You could take the bus, but you wanted the walk. You wanted the fresh air and constant motion. You were nervous, but if you were walking, you didn’t have to focus on it. 

When the door opens, Peter’s eyes light up. As if looking at you brightens his mood alone. He wore a timid smile, and his shoulders were tense, but his eyes twinkled in the hallway fluorescents just because they fell on you.

He invited you in and sat down on the couch. He attempted to make small talk, and you tried your best to answer without saying anything that may garner guilt. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter suddenly blurted out. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued, “I missed our date, and I didn’t text you. I am so, so sorry. That wasn’t okay, and I promise to do better.”

You took his hand, and he seemed to relax a bit. “Peter that- yeah, that sucked. But that’s not what I’m upset about.”

You could almost feel Peter’s nerves, like his anxiety was shooting out of the pads of his fingers and into you. “I am worried about you. You are often…harmed in some way or late, and you can never tell me why. And I just- I’m-”

Maybe it was your nerves you were feeling. “I’m worried you don’t trust me. I wanted to know if there was something I could do to remedy that.”

Peter grips your hand a little tighter, “I trust you. Of course, I trust you.”

His words soak into your skin, and you feel anger bubbling within you. But it’s not just rage; it’s exhaustion. You’ve done this song and dance, and the tune no longer excites you. You know now that there’s no way to avoid it. If he claims it’s not you then you have to confront him. But you didn’t really want to. You knew the question but feared the answer. The words lodged in your throat, and it felt harder to breathe. 

Say it, You thought. You should say it.

“So, then, why do you lie?”

He pulled back from you slowly enough that you could feel him slipping away. 

“I don’t.”

Another lie. 

The anger grew as it bubbled in your gut; it was close to a rolling boil. The steam is building, creating pressure. 

“Cut the shit, Parker. I know you weren’t mugged, and I know you weren’t on your damn skateboard. Why won’t you tell me what happened? Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not-”

“Yes, you are! Just tell me!”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

He looked at you like it pained him to say it. As if in some way, he knew how this hurts you, and it hurt him too. But he couldn’t know. He couldn’t understand. 

“Peter, I’m kinda losing my mind here. I mean, you are always late or busy, but it’s never with your job. I’ve caught you several times using May as an excuse, not realising that I was with her. And if you do show up, you’re covered in bruises. You have scars that you can’t explain. And anytime I ask about any of it I get vague, nonsensical answers. Why? Why can’t you tell me what’s going on? I wish you could be honest with me.”

His face falls. You see the guilt flash across his face for the briefest of moments, but then it’s gone, replaced by an expression of faux ire as he stands from the couch. He stands up straighter, his shoulders squared and fists balled at his sides. It was a defensive stance, and he fell into it so naturally, you wondered how often he did.

“Tell me this: Why’d you stick around; why’d you stay with me? If you know I’m lying, why?”

If you didn’t know him, you would have been hurt by his tone, filled with disdain and contempt. But you knew Peter Parker. He was trying to push you away again.

He would go through these cycles where he would shower you in adoration, tell you that you were perfect and amazing, and how he was so lucky to have you. But then he would freak out. He would ghost you and act distant. When you could finally pin him down, he would confess that he felt he didn’t deserve you or the love you poured out for him.

The fact that he was doing it now frustrated you to no end. You could feel your hair greying.

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! Jesus, Peter, I love you. And I knew you had some issues, but no one is perfect. And I’m not asking you to be. I’m just asking for you to be truthful with me. And if you can’t do that, I’m asking for an explanation. What am I doing wrong? How do I fix this, Peter? Please, give me something, anything!”

You were pulling at your hair, on the verge of tears. Your breathing erratic. You felt like you were going to explode; your atoms were seconds from throwing off electrons left and right until they all decayed and left you in a pile of mush.

“What- You’re not doing anything wrong, okay? You’re great, amazing even. It’s not you.”

Peter placed his hands on yours, pulling them away from your head and placing them over his heart. You steady your breaths in time with his.

“Then why? Why do you lie to me, Peter?”

“It’s to keep you safe.”

“Safe from what? What are you running from?”

“Look, I can’t. I can’t tell you, alright? I can’t put you in danger like that.”

It was Peter’s turn to tense and your turn to soothe.

“Hey, we’re in this together. We’re supposed to grow and learn and chase our dreams together.” You intertwined your fingers and bring them to your lips. “ Peter, if you're in danger I want to know. Let me help you, please.”

Something in Peter snaps. His eyes are now cold as he pushes your hands away, taking a step back. If he had walls up before, you were now looking at a fortress. Fort Knox. Castle Rock. 

“You. Can’t. Help. Me.” He spoke the words with finality. “Do you hear me? I don’t want your help.”

You felt his words rip and tear through you, taking part of you with them. A deep cut by a serrated blade. You did your best to apply pressure to the wound, to keep going- to make him see. 

“But that’s what you do. When you love someone, you help them. You do it all the time, whether it’s carrying my groceries up the stairs when the elevator’s down. Or when you run me a bath after a stressful day-”

“That’s different, (Y/n).” You shake your head furiously.

“No. No, it’s not. You help me because you love me. Let me do the same.” You’re pleading with him at this point; your dignity lone gone. 

Peter looks to the ground and says nothing. You feel your heart sink; he says nothing. “Peter?”

Still nothing. “Peter?”

You feel like you might vomit. “Do you…Do you love me?”

Your ears are ringing in the silence. He finally lifts his head, and his eyes are rimmed with tears, but still, he says nothing. 

His hesitation kills you. This is it. This is your end. Peter Parker doesn’t love you. The last bit of hope in you fades, and you feel hollow. His love had died, and so have you. The revelation is almost enough to bring you to your knees. 

“I couldn’t save it,” You whisper so faintly one might mistake it for a draft from a leaky window. “I couldn’t save it.”

You cry. Hadn’t really done that in front of Peter before. You’ve teared up sure, maybe had one or two slip, but this was something else. This was a steady stream down both cheeks. This was raspy gasps from your chest. This was ugly. 

And Peter just stood there. 

You collapsed onto the couch as you started to shake. You felt like everything was falling apart. If you thought your heart had been suffering before, you were wrong. It had now been obliterated.

There were no shards or mess, only a plume of smoke and a singed cavity where the muscle once was. It burned and burned, eating itself alive until there was nothing left.

You wondered if this is what stars felt- this fear, this betrayal- before they succumb to their own crushing gravity, exploding with a grand flourish…and then nothing. 

You wiped your face. He had lied to you for the last time. You held no sympathy for him. You found it hard to believe that he didn’t love you, but if you were right, what does that say about Peter? He was deeply hurt. You saw glimpses of it when Peter would lose you in the store, when he would wake you up with a night terror, when he lied. You loved him, for better or for worse, you did. But you couldn’t do this; you deserved better. 

You stand and grab your bag, throwing it over your shoulder. You make it across the floor and to the front door before Peter says anything.

“Wait, where are you going?”

You bite your tongue, holding back as many scathing comments as you can. Most of them call him out for pushing you away and being upset when it works. But instead, you settle on something else, something you think is a little nicer. 

“I hope you find a way to be yourself someday.”

When you look back at him, he looks like he’s seconds from shattering. But maybe once he falls apart, he can build himself back up. You hope he does. 

“I pray for the best for you, Peter.” And that was true. Even as you shut the door behind you, even as you silenced his notifications on your phone, even when your friends shit on him- trying to make you feel better. You hoped that he would get the best life had to offer. You hoped it would be a little kinder to him.

Taglist: @andrews-lovr, @barbecuetiddy, @cherriescherriesred25, @djdre92, @heejinw0rld, @ilovemoonknight, @negasonic-teenage-asshole, @preciousbabypeter, @princesskittycatofmeowland, @purple-amaranthe, @raajali3, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz

#rancid writes #rancid replys #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman x reader #andrew garfield spiderman x reader #andrew peter parker #the amazing spider man #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #andrew garfield #peter parker oneshot #spiderman oneshot #peter parker angst #song fic #spiderman imagines #peter parker fluff #tasm imagine #tasm peter parker #tasm 2 #tasm #peter Parker imagines

[zaimta]

T.M.I

zai says: i think imma release these every friday, when the other ones come out yall will be able to tell that this was the first one i did also i'm gon milk this arc till the day i die n y'all know this

[prev] [pause/play] [next]

you looked in the mirror in disgust, you hated what you saw, nothing but a broken person who couldn't even stay true to what they believed in. nothing more than a puppet being toyed with by the puppet master.

you and freed walked side by side to the church, he could tell you were feeling a slight amount of guilt but he had yet to figure out something that was bothering him “y/n. it’s clear that laxus will only listen to you at this point. but maybe he is beyond that point…however, i must ask why haven’t you told him to call this all off? it’s clear you don’t want much to do with this. so why y/n? why do you fight for something you don’t believe in?”

“because i-”

“damnit!” you shouted at the memory flooding your brain, you clutched your head looking down at your feet, and you then felt tears streaming down your cheek “why wasn’t i strong enough? i’m pathetic.”

back then you knew the answer to his question and you still do now, your guilt was eating you alive not allowing you to think clearly

your arms fell slack by your sides and you fell to your knees, tears still streaming down your cheeks

“maybe i’m just a fool freed.” he sent a smile your way his eyes screamed pity, just a pitiful glare for a shameful idiot and you hated every second of it.

“i should have done more back then, anything would have been better than this outcome. i was too weak to stop it, i was just a love-sick fool who was blinded by that fact. after all this time did he even love me back? was i following him blindly just for him to not even love me back?” despite all the fond memories you made your doubts triumph over everything you knew and what he told you.

shame flooded your mind, you felt embarrassed to feel this way, to wallow in your own shame and regret. these feelings were all too familiar to you and you hated every last second of it, every pitiful millisecond was nothing short of hell to you, he was long gone and out of your life but yet your doubts in your relationship still followed you.

“please…make it stop.” you mumbled weakly as if your pleas would be heard while your tears flowed like a river.

“because i loved him. no matter how many people i had to hurt i wanted to see him happy again.”

i hate myself i look in the mirror and start to cry stupid self sabotage every time t.m.i i think i'm the worst criticize everything 'til it hurts

you don’t know but you picked yourself and decided to go to the guild hopefully some time around your friends would do you some good, and there it was again the pitty glances, you smiled throughout them all but there was only so much you could take.

you went to an empty table to clear your thoughts and felt a hand on your shoulder, you tensed up bracing for those words “how are you holding up?” lucy spoke to you as if you were fragile and you could break at any second, or that’s what it felt like to you anyway. you snatched your shoulder away from her grip and sent her a glare “im fine. why does everyone treat me like i’m some fragile thing?”

bet you wish you never asked sorry if i made you sad at least you know now where i'm at

you dropped your shoulders suddenly aware of how tense you were, you groaned and ran a hand down your face “shit. i’m sorry lucy i’m just…tired.”

“y/n im sorry i didn’t mean to-” you cut the celestial mage off “no it’s not your fault you were just trying to check on me.” you felt something run down your cheeks, we’re you crying? after all this time an ‘are you okay’ was what it took to get to you. you excused yourself and headed into the bathroom, it was pathetic you felt like a failure crying in a public restroom. you were nothing more than a waste of space who couldn’t have anything go your way.

“it’s all my fault. maybe if i was more firm?? who am i kidding maybe if i said something anything he still would have been here.” you think to yourself causing your tears so flow like a river down your face.

you looked in the mirror and saw the weakest person you ever saw, and it took everything in you not to smash that mirror.

“y/n?” evergreen said while knocking on the bathroom door “im coming in okay?” she walked into the bathroom and noticed the tears on your cheeks and she wordlessly wiped them away and sighed “what am i going do with you n/n? we’ve got to get you a better coping mechanism” she chuckled quietly at her own joke, she pulled down her dress so it was at least covering her legs and sat on the floor, she patted the spot next to her with a gentle smile inviting you to sit. you wordlessly sat next to her with your knees pulled up to your chest.

“i know this is hard on you right now, but you can’t keep pushing us away we’re here for you…freed told me how you have been feeling.” you sighed deeply “so you know everything?” she shook her head “i only know freed’s assumptions, if you don’t want to talk about it that’s okay but you can’t keep letting your emotions eat you alive it’s not healthy for you y/n.”

the two of you sat there in silence for a while, you broke the silence with a small sigh and began opening up to evergreen about how you’ve been feeling “i feel like it’s all my fault ever…i feel like i could have done more maybe if i said something this whole thing wouldn't have happened or maybe he wouldn’t have been kick out of the guild” you pull your knees closer to your chest as you speak “i loved him ever, and now i might not even see him again.”

evergreen rested her hand on yours with a soft smile, you looked at her and her eyes didn’t scream pitty nor did they feel as if they were looking down at you and it was comforting “you don’t have to be guilty for anything y/n, we all made the choice to follow his plan…and he’s quite the ambitious man you know that, no matter what he would have seen his plan through till the end.”

you returned the smile “yea you’re right” the smile didn’t reach your eyes and she knew that, she knew you needed time how much time was all up to you however.

i hate myself i look in the mirror and start to cry super self sabotage every time t.m.i i think i'm the worst criticize everything 'til it hurts if you knew me better, you would like me worse t.m.i

#fairy tail x reader #laxus x reader #fairy tail x y/n #fairy tail x you #laxus x y/n #laxus x you #laxus dreyar x reader #laxus dreyar x you #laxus dreyar x y/n

[storiesfromafan]

Moral of the Story

Mattheo x Fem!Reader

A/N: so I tried something different with this one. Also posting on my phone, will fix it up when I can get on a computer.

Summary: don't hate me for this being about Mattheo and the reader.

Moral of the Story

So I never really knew you

God, I really tried to

Blindsided, addicted

Felt we could really do this

But really I was foolish

Hindsight, it's obvious

It’s funny how an attraction to someone can turn to a crush, which can lead to liking that person. And before you know it you’re in a relationship. All the while barely knowing them. Though over the course of a relationship you are meant to learn about that person you have chosen. Learning their likes and dislikes, hobbies and interests, if they are a dog or cat person. But for you it hadn’t been like that. Blinded by the Angel face of the Slytherin heartthrob Mattheo Riddle.

Like many girls before, and probably not the last, his chocolate brown eyes and curly brown mop caught your eye first. Then there was that smile that made butterflies flutter in your stomach. And not to forget that charm he just radiated when he talked, eyes focused on his prey, drawing you in whole heartedly. Every ounce of the male screamed sex appeal, every girl's fantasy. The bad boy, heartbreaker of Slytherin. He would blindside the girl he was interested in, causing them to become addicted to him. He was the drug of choice, and every girl became a drug addict on him.

You had believed you could be end game, claiming his heart just as quickly as you had offered up your own. But the fool you were. Mattheo had done it time and time again. Showing interest in a girl, becoming infatuated but really it was a game. Seeing how long it took from the first flirty look he sent their way to obtaining that first date with them to Hogsmeade. Round two in his game was to see how long it took to kiss them, which usually only took half their date. Extra points if he could get a make out session out of them before getting back to Hogwarts. Round three was for those that he found himself interested in for longer than a month. That was borderline full relationship status. Only a few had made it there, yourself included. 

You were the exception though. For he chose to go full relationship with you, shocking all that watched your dalliance closely. Y/N L/N, the first girl to make Mattheo Riddle her boyfriend. That day was the happiest moment of your life so far. But with it came the looming shadow of those that wanted your head, though not literally. You had a target on your back from the moment you accepted to be his girlfriend of four months. Everything should have been obvious; Mattheo and his ways, the target on your back. You should have seen it coming.

Talking with my lawyer

She said, "Where'd you find this guy?"

I said, "Young people fall in love

With the wrong people sometimes"

Some mistakes get made

That's alright, that's okay

You can think that you're in love

When you're really just in pain

Some mistakes get made

That's alright, that's okay

In the end, it's better for me

That's the moral of the story, babe

Sitting in the Great Hall for lunch surrounded by your friends, you pushed your food around your plate. You were hungry but had no appetite for what was on offer. But you ate a few bites, which had been hard to swallow. The conversation your group was having was like white noise; you could hear it but did not focus on it, wanting to tune it out. If attendance wasn’t important you would have stayed in bed, wrapped in your blankets wallowing in self pity.

“What do you think Y/N/N?” Pansy asked drawing you from your mind.

You looked at her with a confused look. “Ah, come again?”

She sighed. “I asked what your thoughts on Snape’s pop quiz. But I think your head was somewhere else, no doubt dwelling on the sorry excuse of an ex”, her tone had been sharp.

You weren’t the only one hurting from your break up, though it was more Pansy wanting to hurt Mattheo for the number he had done on you. Pansy thought the world of you, after just clicking in second year over putting a couple Gryffindor girls in their place over your house; Slytherin.

“I know you cared for him Y/N/N” Pansy said with a pointed look, “mistake made, that’s alright. In the end it's better for you, save yourself true heartache. Once a player, always a player unfortunately”.

If only she truly knew that ship had already set sail. For this was true heartache. Stupidly on your part handing over your heart freely, though you had thought Mattheo was doing the same. Wrong. 

It's funny how a memory

Turns into a bad dream

When running wild turns volatile

Remember how we painted our house

Just like my grandparents did?

So romantic, but we fought the whole time

Should have seen the signs, yeah

Looking down the Slytherin table you saw him sitting with both Draco and Blaise, all three in a heated discussion. How you longed for those moments. Sitting by his side as they conversed on a number of topics. You would even weigh in on the discussion with your own two cents. And they all seemed to enjoy your input on their banter. Those moments were a fond memory. Along with the stolen moments between the two of you. Such as a snog session in a corner of the library. Or lazing under a tree in the courtyard, Mattheo’s head resting on your lap.

But with the good there were always those that were turbulent. In the beginning there were a few moments that had been rough, and maybe a red flag, but the happy moments outweighed the bad. The last month of your relationship there was more turbulence than ever. It started out as small things; comments on your friends, conversations with friends or others from different houses, being late to meet him, etc. You had words with each other before turning into full on arguments, that many thought would lead to one of you hitting the other. It was all so toxic.

Talking with my mother

She said, "Where'd you find this guy?"

Said, "Some people fall in love

With the wrong people sometimes"

Some mistakes get made

That's alright, that's okay

You can think that you're in love

When you're really just in pain

Some mistakes get made

That's alright, that's okay

In the end it's better for me

That's the moral of the story, babe

Sneaking out that night you found yourself in the Astronomy Tower, cigarette between your lips as you lit it up. The first draw hit the back of your throat in familiarity, holding that burn for a few seconds before releasing it in a puff of smoke. With the lack of appetite, cigarettes became an addiction, bringing you some twisted comfort. As he was the reason you found yourself smoking. You consider it a parting gift of some sort.

Leaning against the railing of the tower, you looked up at the night sky. Grateful you never brought Mattheo up here. Or else this space would be tainted, like everywhere else you used to like to go. The stars in the sky seemed dull tonight, possibly mirroring your melancholy mood.

With the silence of the tower you heard the footsteps clearly, faintly coming up the stairs and growing louder as they came closer to you. It had to be one of your friends. No one else knew this was one of your hiding spots.

“Here you are” signed Pansy. “I have been looking everywhere for you”.

“You caught me” you sighed, releasing another puff of smoke before taking another drag of the cigarette. A soft, sympathetic look crossed Pansy’s face. Which you didn't like one bit. “Don't look at me like that. I don't want or need your sympathy”.

“You got hurt Y/N/N. He hurt you” she said, refusing to use his name. A true friend to the end.

“Yeah, and my dumbass knew what it was getting into. I saw it all before I stepped up to the Quidditch pitch. I ignored the red flags Pansy. It’s on me”.

“No!’ She said, raising her voice. “It’s on him! He took it further with you, he made you his girlfriend. If he intended to be serious he needed to work on himself”.

She had a valid point, you know that. You had changed for him, he should have done the same for you. Be the best version of himself for you. That wasn’t his plan. His plan was to be himself, you change for him and he would take from you while finding his next play thing.

“Well they say it's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. That could be a load of shit” you said with your cigarette hanging from your lips while lighting it once more and taking another hit. “But that’s how it goes. Blinded by affections of the heart”.

“I understand that. But it’s still no excuse” retorted Pansy. “He could see how you felt, he chose to abuse that”.

But I just need to tell you all

Some mistakes get made

That's alright, that's okay

You can think that you're in love

When you're really just engaged

Some mistakes get made

That's alright, that's okay

In the end it's better for me

That's the moral of this story

Some mistakes get made

That's alright, that's okay

You can think that you're in love

When you're really just in pain

“True, but I need to tell you some mistakes get made. That's alright, that's okay. In the end it's better for me, that's the moral of the story, babe” you said looking her in the eyes. “Chalk it up as a learning experience”.

“I don't disagree with your words. But I hate seeing you like this. It worries me” Pansy said, worry shining through her eyes brightly.

You gave her a soft smile that didn’t meet your eyes. “I know Pans. Honestly I am hurting, it sucks. But in time I will get over it, maybe not completely. Yet just enough to be some version of the old me. Promise”.

With those words, and a promise, Pansy let it be. And shortly after headed back to the Slytherin common room, you said you wouldn’t be far behind her. Alone once more, you continued to smoke your cigarette, your now old friend. You thought over what you had said to Pansy, the promise made. You weren’t sure if you believed your words or not. But hoped it was somewhat true. It gave you hope. Hope needed in a dark moment in this chapter of your life. Your first heartbreak, at the hands of Mattheo Riddle.

With the final drag of your cigarette, you put out the tip before flicking it over the edge of the tower. Taking one last look at the night sky, you saw a shooting star, a small sad smile forming on your lips. Taking your leave, you headed down the quiet staircase, along the portrait covered hall ways and back down into the depth of the castle, and the Slytherin common room.

Oh-oh, oh-oh (that's the moral of the story, that's the-)

(Oh-oh, oh-oh)

(Oh-oh, oh-oh)

A/n: any constructive criticism welcome 😊

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n

[romanarose]

Hello! Can I request some angst or hurt/comfort with marc spector or all of the moon boys where you two get into an argument and he tells you to leave and then you end up getting badly hurt while you’re out and he or they blame themselves

HIIIIIII! Her you go!

I hope this isn't too much like my other fics, but I love fics with protective men, and when it comes to Marc fics I always have some basic themes that go into it

Marc Spector X reader

WARNINGS! Mentions of blood and a little violence but it's not bad.

**************

“C’mon Y/N, this is stupid” What started as bickering turned into a full blown fight, and now both of you were frustrated and tired. Marc was faced away from you, scrubbing his face. A tell-tale sign of how irritated he was. 

The thing that started the fight was long gone, everything else had gotten dragged up and into the open. Every broken part of both you and Marc was out in the open, unable to be ignored.

“It’s not stupid, you can’t just pretend these things don’t matter.” You are exhausted, you’ve been going at it for hours.

“They don’t! They don’t fucking matter!” He’s not shouting, but his voice is raised.

“Yes, yes they fucking do, Marc.” You cross your arms, daring him to keep going.

He whips around, faster and with more aggression than you’re used to. He holds his hands out, level to his chest. “Then just leave, fuck!”

It felt like a punch in the gut, it hurt. You knew he didn’t mean it, but you also couldn’t stand to look at his face, no matter how pretty. “Fine.” You briskly walk to the closet and grab your backpack.

His face crumples, he wasn’t expecting that. “No, Y/N I didn’t-”

“Mean it, I know” You look up from the dresser you were pulling clothes from. “But you said it. And we both need to calm down before we talk about this anymore, so I’m going to Kayla’s” You shove your toothbrush in the pocket and storm off to the door.

“Fine. Go then.” Marc closed off again, stubborn as always.

You roll your eyes. “What is wrong with you?”

“Excuse me?” He looked incredulously at you.

Opening the door. “You can’t just let yourself be happy, can you? You have to take every opportunity to pick a fight and blow it out of proportion. You push me, Steven, Layla, Jake and everyone who has ever cared about away because you don’t want us to do it first. Then you sit and wallow in your misery and self pity because it’s easier than being vulnerable and letting yourself be loved.”

Marc had nothing to say, his eyes, normally large and loving and warm, were cold and closed off. You could practically hear him making the Windows shutdown noise. 

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’ll text you when I get there, and Steven and Jake,-” She knew they would have been listening in, knowing better than to interrupt their storm. “-Call me tomorrow. I’m mad at Marc, not you.” You look at Marc one more time, desperately hoping he’d beg you to stay like you knew he wanted to. Nothing. His face was unreadable, strong jawline set into a scowl. “Talk to me when you’re ready.” And you shut the door, calling your sister to let her know you’ll be hijacking the other side of her bed again. 

Great job mate, fantastic.

Handled well as always amigo.

Marc rolls his eyes, not exactly in the mood to deal with his alters right now. 

You couldn’t just apologize, could you? No. You had to be a bloody wank about it

“Can you both just shut the fuck up?”

Moments like this, Jake wished Marc was still unaware of him. It was a lot harder to take the body by force now that the element of surprise was gone. You’re lucky we share the same face, or I’d punch you right now.

Go ahead, it never stopped Marc before

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Marc found the bathroom mirror, pointing at his animated reflection. “Neither of you know what the fuck you’re talking about, so shut the fuck up!”

She’s right, you know. You do push away everyone that cares about you, and it’s getting old. You don’t have to be such a fucking asshole, pendejo.

“FUCK! OFF!” Marc threw a towel over the mirror, knowing damn well that won't stop the voices.

There was silence as Marc flopped on his bed, face in his pillow. That only lasted a minute. 

Marc, listen. Take tonight, calm down, go for a run tomorrow if you need it, but you need to talk to her early tomorrow, and you need to stop doing this. She can’t keep staying with her sister every few months. One day she won’t come back.

Marc knew he was right. But he wasn’t going to admit it. 

“Maybe that’s what I want.” He said, but there was no conviction in his voice.

You are furiously speed walking down the dark street, trying to work off your frustration. You hoped Kayla had melatonin, otherwise you’d never sleep tonight. You were so mad, at him, so frustrated. It wouldn’t hurt so bad if you didn’t love him so much. All you wanted was for Marc to accept you, accept your love and that he’s worthy of it. He was a good person, a kind and gentle person, when he wasn’t sabotaging his own life. He was soft, loving, and a caretaker. But every now and then, you’d get too close. You’d cross some line you didn’t even know was there. It wasn’t that you’d try to push him. Sometimes, he’s tell you detailed stories about his childhood. Other times, you’d simply mention Chicago and he’d shut down. You never knew what would set him off, and it was like walking on glass sometimes. He never yelled, he never insulted you and he was never cruel. But the coldness when he shut down broke your heart. You just wanted him to feel loved.

“Hands up” 

Fuck. You put your hands up and see the man with a knife pointed at you. 

“Give me your wallet.” His face was covered by a headband, like the kind people would use as face coverings during covid when they didn’t want to wear a mask.

“Alright, it’s in my bag, can I get it out?” This wasn’t the first time you’d been mugged, it won’t be the last. 

He nods frantically, he looks more anxious than you. That wasn’t good. You kept calm, hoping that would extend to him, and he wouldn’t do anything rash. You get your wallet out of your bag, opening it. “I got $50 in here, all my cards are pin based and I can freeze in seconds. If you just take the cash and let me keep the cards and my ID, we can just walk away, no one gets hurt.” You always kept cash in your wallet for emergencies, but you figured that’s all he really wanted. 

“O-okay.” he spoke shakily and yanked your wallet from your hand, taking out the cash. When he looked down, however, his covering fell and you see his face. Shit. He looks panicked, worse than he already was. “Fuck. FUCK!”

“Hey” You put your hands up, trying to remain calm. “It’s okay. Just take the money, I won’t make a report. They can’t find you just based on a description, and the cops don’t care about a low level robbery.” You tried to reason as he became increasingly erratic. Then you felt it, a sharp pain in your stomach. God, god that fucking hurt, holy shit. The man ran off with your money, mumbling to himself. 

Oh god, oh god okay. It wasn’t a big knife, you were going to be fine. You’re supposed to keep the knife in, right? Yeah. Yeah okay. Fuck, you wanted your boyfriends. You lean against the alley wall, sliding down. Okay, okay think clearly, think rationally. You need medical care, not your loving boyfriends. Not yet. Phone, where is your phone? In your pocket, where it always is! Wait, no it’s not. Fuck, you dropped it. Shit. You try to scoot over to wear it, irritating the knife in you even more. Don’t look at it, don’t look. You grab the phone and dial 911 and are able to tell the nice lady where you are. She offers to stay on the phone with you, but you want the boys. Any of them, Marc included. You weren’t even mad at him anymore, you just wanted him there. You hang up, and try to dial Marc, but you catch a glimpse of your stomach. Oh god, that’s a lot of blood. A lot of fucking blood for a small knife. You feel dizzy. Lay down, it’ll be fine. You hear the sirens. City like this, EMT’s are never too far. Call Marc, call Marc, call Marc. but you can’t do it, focusing too hard on the pain in your stomach.

She hasn’t texted us yet

“I noticed…” Marc mumbled, he was growing worried. It was a 20 minuet walk a best, but it had been an hour.

Call her, just to make sure she’s alright.

“She’s pissed, she doesn’t want to talk to me…”

Then just text her, maybe she forgot. She’ll be happy to know you’re thinking about her. 

“She’s probably busy telling Kayla how much she hates me.” But Marc goes to grab his phone. Just then a call comes in. Instant anxiety as he thinks it’s you, that you vented your sister and now you want to break up. More anxiety when he sees Kayla’s name. Great, she’s probably calling to chew him out too.

“Marc?” She says, as soon as Marc answers?”

“Hello?” He says, concern growing at the worry in her voice.

“Marc you need to come to the ER, Y/N got stabbed.”

Faster than he thought possible, Marc slipped into his slides and was out the door. It was awfully cold to be wearing sandals, but he wasn’t going to waste time on laces. Kayla explained what happened as far as she knew. The ER nurse called the last number your phone dialed, which was Kayla. She was in the ER waiting for her to get out of surgery.

Marc was frantic as he tried to find where you were and what was happening. How could he do this? How could he make you walk alone in this stupid, dangerous city. Your sister found him. “C’mon, she’s out. Go on in.”

Marc hesitated, “Are you sure-”

“She wants you Marc. Can you stay with her tonight? I’ll take over in the morning.” Kayla had taken your nephew to a neighbor, but needed to get back. She promised to come when day care opened up. 

“Yeah.” Marc breathed out, his heart constricting. “Yeah, I can do that…”

Kayla nodded, tired and pale. “Thanks” She started walking past him,putting a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself Marc.”

But that ship sailed.

Hesitantly, Marc opened the door to your room. Your eyes were closed, oxygen tubes under your nose and monitors hooked up to you. He hated seeing you like this, and hated that it was his fault.

“Marc, I can practically hear you overthinking from here.” You mumble, eyes still closed. 

Marc rushes over to your side, hesitating before he takes your hand. “Oh honey…” he keeps looking you over, top to bottom, cataloging everything that was so wrong with this picture. White sheets, not the colorful ones in their home. No Star Wars throw blanket. You were in scrubs not your legging and t shirt you always sported. He wanted to see the wound, see how bad it was, see what he did to you.

You notice him staring at your stomach, covered by the blanket. “You’re not seeing it, baby.”

How did you know him so well? How did you always know what he was thinking?

“I’m sorry, baby…” He barely chokes out, tears forming.

“Honey don’t…” Your heart breaks for him, he alway blames himself for everything, even things far beyond his control. ‘Don’t blame yourself, please?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that, don’t be nice to me. I need you to be mad at me-” His voice breaks and the tears start falling down his pretty face. “I need you to hate me.”

“Marc…” The pain in your stomach was nothing compared to what you felt looking at him. The love for you and the hatred for himself was so apparent, it hurt. “I could never hate you. Ever. And I won’t let you make me. No matter how much you try, or how much you push me away, I will never, ever, hate you.” You squeeze the hand he was holding. “You’re stuck with me, my love.”

Steven and Jake are very worried, but I want to stay with you for just a bit longer, is that okay? Then they can come talk to you?”

You smile at Marc, reassuring him you want him here. “Of course, baby.”

Marc hold your hand to his lips, giving soft kisses. “How did you know it was me?”

“Hm?”

“When I came into the room. You didn’t open your eyes, but you said my name.” Marc kisses your forehead tenderly; one hand is holding yours, the other in your hair, like he’s trying to convince himself you are really here, really safe. “After the fight, I knew you’d be the first. You always blame yourself, all the time.”

His face was in your neck, breathing you in as he knelt beside you. “I’m sorry, you’re safe now, I promise, I’m sorry, you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe…”

#marc spector angst #marc spector reader #marc spector yn #moon knight #marc spector #moon knight fanfiction #protective marc spector #marc spector needs a hug #asks are open

[motherhenna]

am I the only one who's starting to feel like self care culture and therapist speak has lowkey done some serious damage to a lot of mentally ill young people over the last 8 or so years? It's literally the perfect vehicle for justifying insanely unhealthy coping mechanisms and addictions but I haven't heard anybody talking about it on here. Instead, I keep seeing posts that are like "be gentle with yourself: go at whatever pace is comfortable for you" and "it's okay to say no to things you don't want to do" but like...what if that thing you don't want to do is taking a shower or leaving the house or cooking your own meal at home? What if moving at a pace that is "comfortable" for you means you still haven't stopped smoking for the last decade because nicotine withdrawal and anxiety are not "comfortable"? And hey--at least you're only smoking ONE pack a day instead of two now, so that's almost as good as quitting entirely!

I'm saying all this as someone who is only just now coming out the other side and realizing how much of my late teens and twenties I've wasted because of my lack of accountability and aversion to the hard work that's necessary for recovery from addiction, eating disorders, and depression...and the whole time, I thought I was just practicing self care. But a lot of us should probably take a closer look at our behavior and ask ourselves, "is this really self care? Or is this just complacency, fear of failure, and denial?"

There's a word in addiction treatment that's used to describe family members, friends, or partners who give into their deeply disordered loved one's every demand--even when they know it's hurting them: enablers. I've seen a documentary of a 700 lb immobile man who was still managing to pile on weight because his wife went out every day and brought him every kind of junk food he asked for, all while claiming to love him more than anything else. But genuine, healthy love isn't watching your partner literally waste away before your eyes because you'd rather make him happy in the short-term: it's being fucking honest, and helping them get the assistance they need to get better even if you have to drag them kicking and screaming into rehab. And I'm of the belief that a lot of you out there end up confusing self-love / self-acceptance with self-enabling. One is easy while the other requires you to wake up and do the work every single day, even when it's ugly and messy and painful.

And listen--if your therapist has given you the full go-ahead to take the whole "gentle" route, or it's clearly working out really well for you, then by all means: keep at it. But more often than not, I think we need to stop wrapping ourselves in cotton. The way we treat ourselves should be how we'd ideally parent a child: obviously the overly harsh, critical, strict route rife with threats and punishment is a recipe for disaster, but the other extreme can be extremely damaging too. An overly compliant, indulgent parent who gives into their kid's every whim is likely going to produce selfish, entitled brats who have no concept that their actions have consequences. Neither approach is going to do their children many favors in the long run.

While I'm not fond of the boomer bootstrapping rhetoric, as I think a lot of it comes from an extremely skewed perspective of reality and the expectation that "if I can do it, everybody else should be able to do it just as easily", I also can no longer stand by the victimhood mentality so many fellow young millennials / gen z'ers seem to be living by. Because I spent the last ten years wallowing in it and all it gave me was lowered standards, a million excuses, self pity, and obesity. And it fucking sucks to confront the fact that you are ultimately the one who's responsible for your own behavior as an adult: it means you can't just blame it on society or your parents or your illness or whatever 'ism or 'phobia applies. Are all those things contributing factors that should be taken into account? Absolutely. Should you compare your progress to more privileged people's and feel shame that it's taking longer? No. But that doesn't mean you have no control of your life and choices--that you're powerless to do anything but wait for someone else to save you. Unless you're literally being held hostage at gunpoint, there are always things you can do to `improve your life and yourself. So next time you want to give up on a dream of yours, or justify not changing out of your pajamas for a fortnight in the name of self care, maybe ask yourself what an enabler would do vs. what a true friend would do

#more rambling #this has just been on my mind a lot lately #as I feel like I've finally woken up from a decade's long nightmare #and maybe I could help somebody else in the same place wake up too #you're so much more resilient than you think you are: you don't need to be handled with child gloves to thrive #not to be catholic but the prayer for serenity is super relevant here #'grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change #the courage to change the things I can #and the wisdom to know the difference.' #personal

[1yuuki3]

Part 1:

Do you believe in fate?

Genre: Strangers to lovers, Fluff, Angst, YoongixReader, idolyoongi

TW: mentions of cheating,light swearing?

A/N: Hi, thank you for stumbling into my delulu word..

Wc: 1476 words

Synopsis: You were never one to believe in fate, You're life was made up of plans and bullet points , Organized to the very end. Until fate played a cruel joke and left your life in shambles. Nursing a broken heart in Spain, will this make you change your view on love and fate?.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

" Y/N when are you coming home?" your bestfriend Aya asked you while face timing you.

"Just give me two more days and I'm coming home"

you said with a bitter smile on your face.

"Home" A word so familiar yet so far. Crumbling your heart into tiny little pieces.

Home was a hazel eyed boy named James. 

Whose smile makes your heart do flip-flops and butterflies go crazy in your stomach. But that was before he decided to break your heart.

Rather than wallow in self-pity, you decided to go out of your rented room 

and take in the sites that Spain can offer.

Walking around with your trusty camera you took pictures, 

but you call them memories.. 

A new chapter in life, A new chapter without him, you thought.

Throwing all caution in the air, you decided to get drunk and celebrate this freedom of yours. 

But fate has different plans for you.

As you walked aimlessly around the back alleys of Spain, 

You noticed a tiny bar hidden by an arch of flowers. 

If it wasn't for the sign that says "Tienda de Magia" you'd definitely miss it.

As you reluctantly entered, You felt as if your transported in time, 

when love and fairytales existed. Where happy never after existed.

Gentle guitar music peppered the air, creating a calm atmosphere, 

where you can easily leave all your worries at the door.

As you walk towards the bar you noticed a guy having a hard time ordering due to the language barrier.

You don't know what came over you or maybe it was your bestfriend's advice to 

"go fuck the 1st cute guy you met and get over that arse". 

You know she was joking and just want to make you smile.

"Ah,excuse me, do you need help?" you softly asked the stranger.

A pair of cat like eyes stared back at you as if you've materialized from smoke. 

He cleared his throat as if trying to calm the feelings in his stomach while staring at your brown eyes.

"Ye-Yes" he answered in that low sexy voice that can make girls swoon.

"I was trying to order a scotch on the rocks, but we got lost in translation" he continued to explain while scratching his neck.

"Let me do it" you said and gave him a smile.

He smiled his gummy smile and it did things to your heart as you slowly feel your cheeks turn red.

You talked to the bar tender who was eyeing your interactions, with a knowing smile on his face and turned his back to prepare your drinks.

"Yoongi" he shyly mumbled, "my name is Yoongi".

"Hi Yoongi, I'm Y/N" you said as you take his outstretched hand to shake.

As soon as your palms touched, as if there were a thousand pikachu's who suddenly hit you with thunderbolts. To say that the touch was electrifying is an understatement.

"What are you doing here in Spain?"

You asked trying to clear out any awkwardness in the air.

"Working and you?" he replied, He may have noticed the change in your expression, that he immediately said.

"No need to tell me, if it will make you uncomfortable".

You took in a deep breathe as if your life depended on it, You never really told anyone why you ended the engagement. Not even your parents. Only your best friend knows the truth.

You didn't do it because you still love him, You did it because you can't stand people looking at you with pity, 

The girl with the perfect life cheated by her fiancé.

You took a deep breathe and said

"He cheated on me, I saw him fucking his best friend in our bed, I never confronted him, I just left and here I am now getting drunk with you"

You looked at him, waiting for any sign of pity but there was none, Was that anger you saw? or was it the alcohol talking?

He took your hand into his and slowly massaged circles in your knuckles, not helping the butterflies or it is worms in your stomach at this point.

"It not your fault he cheated, even if I just met you, I can say you are someone special and your ex is stupid"

he said still holding on to your hand as if afraid to let you go.

"I'm not saying this so that I can get in your pants or anything, You're special Y/N"

he said as his face is slowly turning into beet red.

You laughed like you haven't laughed in ages. 

Holding your stomach as you laugh your pain away "This is what freedom feels like" You thought to yourself.

And just like that the moment was broken as a waiter shyly approached Yoongi.

"Hi,aren't you Suga from bts?Can I asked for your autograph." as he handed a tissue and a pen.

You noticed how Yoongi suddenly became uncomfortable, 

but still signed the paper with his autograph.

You heard the bartender scolding the waiter.

"You shouldn't have bothered our guests like that,

people come here to escape, to let go of the real world" and he gives you an apologetic smile.

"So, you're in a band?that's cool" you said.

"Yeah, that's why we're here in Spain for work" he replied

"That's cool, and I apologize if I don't recognize you, I'm just not really that updated with bands and what not"

You answered, In which he replied with a big sigh of relief, not realizing he was holding his breathe.

You were like a breathe of fresh air for Yoongi, being an Idol and in front of a camera can be exhausting, 

not that he's complaining because music is his passion, And he loves what he is doing.

But being able to roam around without people recognizing you is a relief.

"So want to get out of here Mr. I'm in a band? Before anyone recognizes you again" Y/N said playfully.

As you got out of the bar, laughing like life long friends.

Y/N took out her hat and placed it on your head as she drunkenly called it a "disguise" so that people won't recognize you.

You talked about everything and nothing. Surprised that you had a lot in common. You learned that Y/N is a music producer and you were pleasantly surprised that you know some of the songs she produced.

When you asked her why she was using a different name for the songs she produced, She simply said she wanted to make a name for herself and not just be the daughter of one of the biggest business tycoon in the country.

You noticed that your aimless walking brought you and Yoongi to a beach and both of you decided to just rest and clear your head from the alcohol.

"Hey, Can we have a picture if you don't mind?" You hesitantly asked it's for my memory box. I promise no one will see it you added hastily.

He gave you his signature gummy smile as he pulled you close to him.

Being near him makes you question things, but you blame this on the alcohol and the night.

After the picture was taken you went back to your comfortable silence. Just sitting next to him.

"Y/N? do you believe in fate? Yoongi asked while staring at you.

"I never believed in fate, for me it's like a made up story for hopeless romantics"

You replied.

Was your heart really that broken to make you this cynical about fate Yoongi wondered.

And in that moment Yoongi felt a sigh from you. As you gently placed your head on his shoulder..

"This feels so good" you quietly said.

"What? Yoongi replied in a near whisper.

"You, Me, the beach" you replied while looking at him.

As if your body has a mind of its own. You feel that you're moving slowly towards Yoongi and he is mirroring your action as well.

As your lips almost touched, A ringing phone pierced the silence and the magic was gone.

Yoongi silently cursed whoever was calling but still answered the phone.

"Yoongi-ah, where the hell are you?"

The caller said without waiting for an answer.

"I'm at the beach by the pier hyung"

Yoongi replied

"You better get back here, before our manager would notice you are gone"

You just listened silently as Yoongi was being scolded by whoever was it on the other line. 

As the call ends. Yoongi silently looks at you with an apologetic smile.

Uhm, I need to go now, I just left our hotel without our permission" He said

Grabbing his hand, you smiled reassuringly, You're sad that this night has to end but it was a happy distraction before going back to reality.

Grabbing his hand, you smiled reassuringly, You're sad that this night has to end but it was a happy distraction before going back to reality.

"Let's go get a cab you and I" you said.

"Will we see each other again?" Yoongi asked.

"If your fate is real, maybe we'll cross paths once again" You answered with a smile.

And that's how you parted ways, You clutching the polaroid picture, an evidence of a magical night spent in Spain. And him with your bucket hat clutched in his hands, praying that you'll meet again..

#min yoongi x reader #min yoongi #bts jhope #bts army #bts #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bangtan #namjoon #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #jimin #fluff #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts fic

[ensnapemysenses]

Could you write headcanons about lucius after the war the ministry decide to make him live as a muggle as a punishment and put him with reader a muggle born and it’s just how he has to live without magic and grows a soft spot for the reader

Lucius would despise having to live life without the use of magic and he would loathe having to live under the same roof as a muggle as he would view you as lower than him. 

Muggle clothing just feels wrong to him and he insists on parading around in his wizard robes until they ‘magically’ go missing one day to only be replaced by a whole wardrobe of muggle clothes. He is pissed off at first but after a while, he starts to like wearing jeans (though he would never admit it).

He would make you do all of the housework/cooking and treat you pretty much like a house elf at first until you eventually lose your shit and blow up on him and force him to pitch in around the house.

“Be a dear and do my laundry and tidy up the house,” Lucius demands with a wave of his hand without looking up from the book he is buried in.

“No. Everything messy right now is because of you! I will clean my shit up, you got to clean up after yourself! I am not your house elf!”

“How dare you defy my orders! I should have you tortured for such an act.”

“Well seeing as how you cannot do magic anymore, I’d like to see you try. You wouldn’t wanna get those delicate hands of yours dirty with my blood, now would you?”

Lucius scowls at you as he throws his laundry in the washer, his eyes further narrowed into slits as he shoots you glances while he is dusting the coffee table.

“I have an idea! Let’s get you a maid outfit to wear oh mighty Lord Lucius!” you chuckle with a dramatic bow.

Lucius throws the cleaning supplies at you and you duck out of the way to avoid being hit. “I’m done with your degradation of me! I’ll be in my room wallowing in self-pity and cursing the gods for letting such a heinous thing happen to me. Don’t come looking for me!”

Lucius stomps off and a few moments later you hear the door to his bedroom slam shut. Smiling to yourself, you prop your feet up on the coffee table he just cleaned and proceed to watch some television in peace.

Once Lucius starts carrying his weight around the house, he starts to gain an appreciation for magic that he didn’t have before, recognizing that it is a huge advantage and it makes everything much simpler. While he recognizes this fact, he finds that he kind of enjoys learning how to do things the muggle way from you as it gives him an excuse to spend more time in your presence.

Since he is from an extremely wealthy pureblood supremacy family he doesn’t know how to do much of anything without magic as such acts were looked down upon by his family. He was never taught how to live without magic and he always had house elves who did all the chores for him.

Lucius pops his head out from the doorway of the kitchen. “Hey, (Y/N),” he shouts. “How do I put out a fire? I burnt some food on the stove!”

“You what!!” you screech as you come running into the kitchen to a pot with rolling flames in it. The heat waves and stench of burning food hit you as you enter the room. “Oh my god, Lucius! Find the lid for the pot and put it on! It’ll extinguish the fire!”

“Can you help me for a moment?”

“Sure. What do you need help with?”

“How do you work the phone? I’m really curious about this muggle contraption.” “You just push the number buttons in the order of the person's phone number and hold it up to your ear. When they pick up just speak normally into the phone and they can hear you and you'll hear them speaking back.”

“How… interesting,” he drawls as he proceeds to dial random numbers for the rest of the day.

Lucius does eventually apologizes for his treatment of you when he was first sentenced to his punishment and he promises to do better from here on out. 

Needless to say, it’s a bit of a learning curve for Lucius but he learns quickly how to live as a muggle and he is very thankful you are there to teach him and guide him in all he needs to know.

#lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy headcanons #lucius headcanons #thanks for sending! #ensnapemysenses

[jem-writes]

There was a bell that jingled as she opened the door. God, how Anna hated that. She felt like it was an alarm to make everyone look at her. Hey look, single mom of three who doesn't have her shit together. There was a time when Angela loved the attention, turning heads when she walked in a room. Now Anna just was happy to go on flying under the radar. Especially when her life was in shambles, much like it was now. "Come on, come on", she tried ushering her boys in while she balanced a baby on her hip. "In you go, let's not heat the outside."

Catching a glimpse of herself in the window, Anna felt even more like if anything she wanted to crawl under a rock. It was very visible, to her at least, that she was stressed. After all, she had just moved half way across the country with two boys and a baby. Quite literally packing up and starting anew. There were dark rings under her eyes, despite the pounds of concealer she'd slathered on. Worry lines un her forehead and around the corners of her eyes. I look so old, she thought to herself. Still, she didn't have time to sit here and wallow in her self pity. It was dinner time, and she needed to get the boys fed before dropping them off at Nat and Eli's house. Though of course Andon was boycotting food at the moment. Or at least anything Anna made or picked. After instructing the boys to take a seat, the blonde made her way to the counter with Trovian pulling on her hair. "Excuse me", the woman asked the man behind on the other side. "Is there a menu or something I could look at? I've never been here before."

@mystreraes

#interactions: angela anderson

[remcycl333]

law of assumption + effort

but, rem, i thought we didn’t need to put in any effort to manifest???

you don’t. but you also do. let me explain.

when we say that you don’t have to put in any effort, we mean you don’t have to do 55x5 or script or affirm every second of every single day or take action (if you don’t want to).

the type of effort that you have to put in is disciplining your mind. persisting. working on getting rid of your limiting beliefs. fixing your self-concept.

you have to manage your thoughts. that’s a major part of manifesting. dominant thoughts + persistence creates an assumption. an assumption creates your reality. if you really want your desired body, or face, or money, or sp, you have to stop thinking like you don’t have it. you have to commit. you can’t affirm for a day and then spend the next crying that it hasn’t shown up in your 3D and complaining and ranting about your current circumstances. that’s not how manifesting works.

also with self-concept. i see so many people making excuses as to why they don’t need to work on their self-concept, how you can still manifest without it, etc. and they’re right, you can. but no matter how many times they see proof that having a good self-concept can boost your manifestations and just make shit so much easier for you, they still refuse to work on it. why do you guys want to be miserable so badly?? affirming that you’re god and that the world revolves around you and that you’re the baddest bitch around is not only easy as hell, but significantly improves your life? liking yourself is a good thing. why do you prefer to hate yourself and your life and your circumstances rather than say a few affirmations a day and fix it? like its so goddamn easy but some of you just refuse to do it. which once again, you don’t have to do it in order to manifest your desires, but why wouldn’t you want to when you know all of the benefits?

i you know about the law (which im assuming all of you reading this do) why wouldn’t you be willing to commit to changing your thoughts in order to manifest? you can get your whole dream life--money, car, house, sp, face, body--just by THINKING! you don’t have to work or exercise or even leave your house if you don’t want to. all you have to do is change your thoughts. and you complain that that is too hard?

i’ll also say this for the millionth time: you don’t have to ignore your 3D. you just have to know that it’s going to change to reflect your inner world. i feel like that’s one of the main excuses that i see; that you can’t ignore your 3D. good news! you don’t have to. so stop making that excuse. please.

i know that wallowing in self-pity and crying about your circumstances can be cathartic. that sadness can be comforting. that having fake fights or making up (bad) scenarios in your head when you fall asleep can be fun. but if you truly, truly want your desire, you have to train your mind to stop doing that.

if you have to set a reminder on your phone to make sure you’re keeping your thoughts in check during the day, do it. i get that your mind can run wild while you’re doing tasks throughout the day. but learning to monitor your thoughts and be mindful of what you’re dwelling on during the day is very beneficial. if you want change, you have to commit to creating a change. no excuses.

#law of assumption #manifesting #manifestation