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onestepbackwards · 2 months

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Love That Bites Pt. 12

Hiii! It’s been a while! Sorry for such a long wait, my life has been chaos non-stop with one bad thing after another, but I was determined to finish this chapter! φ(・ω・｀ ) Forgive me if the pacing and formatting is a little off, but I finally got it done, even if I didn’t get to stuff everything I wanted into this chapter. But that just leaves more for the next one. I do hope you all Enjoy!

Summary: You begin to seriously dwell on your situation, but it seems even as much as you would like to stay, home comes calling. With home on the other line, it seems your fantasy must eventually come to an end. Though it seems Dracula may want a few words…

CW: Anxiety, budding feelings, dark thoughts, brief thoughts of murder, mentions of toxic family

Word Count: 5367 Words!

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Tag List: @tilldeathripsusapart @thedeadlynights, @pumpkinvampie @bethleeham @mshope16 @sixsixtwenty @haleypearce @rvautomatic @tinystarfishgalaxy @marshmelloe @maorizon @ursamajor17 @sapphicsfordracula @dame-sunflowers @sleepyendymion @starrlo0ver @onewiththebeanbag (i’m sorry, sometimes the @ doesn’t work?? ;~; )

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—

If you were being honest, you were beginning to wonder if staying in Dracula’s castle was driving you mad.

It had only been about three days, give or take, and yet…

How else would one rationally explain why you were actually enjoying your stay here at his castle? Or enjoying his visits with how tenderly the Dracula treated you?

Answer was, you didn’t.

At the moment, you were pressing your face into one of the soft pillows on the bed of your room. Outside of the castle, you could faintly hear the sounds of rolling thunder, and raindrops hitting the window.

Somehow, what normally would have been an eerie atmosphere had also become a comfort for you.

You weren’t as tense here. Despite being in Dracula’s castle, and that someone had already tried to kill you, you didn’t feel like you were in survival mode 24/7.

Not like how you were at your old home.

Clutching the pillow closer, you inhaled the pillow’s scent, before letting out a muffled groan.

There was also something you didn’t want to admit. The fact you were beginning to feel really weird about Dracula himself.

And it wasn’t even a bad weird.

It’s something you had been wanting to just shove into the back of your mind and never think of again, but it was beginning to be really hard to do that with how gentle and careful the Vampire Lord was with you.

Especially with the way he oh so gently held parts of your body when overseeing your healing injuries.

Your mind wandered to when he first picked you up, how he held you so effortlessly, holding you against his large frame as he carried you across the castle to this guest room.

Or how his large hands carefully cradled your midsection as he looked over your stitches that you had accidentally messed up. How his cool hands sent electric tingles across your skin-

Heat rushed to your face.

His voice had been so low, and those gorgeous ruby eyes looking at you with genuine concern.

And then his smirk.

How he smirked at you as he teased you, no malice to be seen on his face.

“I’m such a fucking goner, holy shit.” you mumbled into your pillow as heat flushed through your body.

You didn’t dare admit it out loud, but deep down, you knew what this meant.

Heart thudding in your chest, you gripped the pillow tighter.

You had a crush on Dracula.

It wasn’t something you could keep denying, not when your heart fluttered when he gave you such tender looks, or when his lips curled into an amused smirk when he teased you.

The urge to yell was strong.

“I must have really hit my head.”

Of course, that was an excuse you could only use so much until it was just a convenient lie. With the potion Dracula had made for you, the injury to your head had mostly healed.

With the injury to your skull no longer an issue, you knew deep down these feelings you had were unfortunately very natural.

Lifting your head from the pillow, you looked over to the window, idly watching a few flashes of lightning followed by thunder.

Swallowing thickly, you thought back to how he was just so… kind to you.

Even when he was being truthful, it was kind. Dracula didn’t have to tell you that the first batch of potions had been tampered with, but he wanted to be honest with you. It was clear he was putting his cards on the table so you could make your own decisions.

When had someone last been so… open with you? Willingly?

Just the thought had your heart pounding.

Was it really that simple? Someone just had to show you basic kindness for your heart to grow fond of them?

Another flash of lightning struck outside the castle, and you rolled onto your side.

Your mind idly wandered to something Dracula had told you while trying to make conversation. Something about how even the weather was connected to him, to a degree.

Despite the lightning and thunder, it wasn’t angry, like a beast lashing out. Not like it had been earlier.

Another part of you wondered if that heavy storm had been when Dracula found out the potions meant for you had been poisoned.

An even smaller part almost wanted to believe it, imagining how angry he could have possibly been on your behalf. Just like he had been when he broke free, how he wanted to know who had hurt you.

In truth, it was the storm earlier that had caused you to trip and tear some of your stitches.

A loud crack of lightning had shaken the castle earlier, all while you were getting up to use the restroom connected to the room you stayed in. It startled you enough to make you trip over your own feet, and collapse on the floor.

If it had been Dracula’s doing, you didn’t blame him. You doubted he was aware you had been up walking when he had been so angry.

…And because of it, you got to feel his hands on your body, even if it was brief.

A moment passed.

“Am I really that down bad?” you asked yourself, eyes drifting to the ceiling.

You wanted to scream.

This was not fair. Not fair at all.

Why Dracula of all people? The very man you were ‘destined’ to fight?

Deep down, it wasn’t hard to figure out the answer.

You were lonely.

Lonely, and a bit broken.

To have someone, even your biggest ‘enemy’ treat you with respect and kindness… Looking at it from an outside perspective? It wasn’t particularly surprising your heart was trying to latch onto him.

It didn’t make things any easier, though.

Especially when he gave you such fond looks. Looks you could almost imagine a good friend or lover giving you.

“Yup, I’m losing it.” You spoke, your eyes narrowing.

If anything, this made things way more complicated.

What on earth were you going to do now?

You’ve toyed with the idea of maybe politely asking Dracula to, you know, not destroy all of humanity in a attempt of mass genocide.

But would it be that easy?

Just because he seemed to respect you, did not mean he would give the same pardon to the rest of your kind. Especially how he didn’t seem too pleased when you mentioned you got your injuries from personal business.

It wasn’t a lot of info, but you had a feeling Dracula suspected it was humans that had done this to you. No doubt that wouldn’t help you with pleading your case.

Still… You also found your mind wandering over possibly trying to talk Dracula out of killing all humans, despite the odds.

It was something you had wanted the moment you found his statue, though you never really thought you’d get this far.

Could you really do it? Convince the Lord of the Night to leave humanity be?

Perhaps you could make a compromise? You knew he had to drink blood to live, perhaps he’d be interested in the few supernatural blood drives that existed?

…Or even your own blood?

You quickly shook your head, trying to get the image of Dracula intimately biting into your neck out of your mind.

That image pleased you a lot more than you’d like to admit…

With a huff, you brought a hand to your face, and rubbed your eyes.

“What was I thinking about again? Right! Compromise…”

It wasn’t like you could just stop hunting, either. Even if Dracula agreed not to kill humans, that didn’t mean other people who lived independently of him would follow such a lifestyle. If a beast or something of paranormal nature was out causing harm to innocent people, you’d have to put a stop to it.

But, perhaps… Perhaps you could convince Dracula at least to leave humanity be, unless someone personally spites him?

In that case, you could hardly feel the desire to stop him. Fuck around and find out and all that.

You would no doubt though have to give something up in return, no?

Not hunting Dracula wouldn’t be enough, you were sure. The King of the Night had sworn to destroy humanity for killing his wife. You doubted he would simply just stop in his crusade because you asked nicely and swore not to kill him for it.

“Perhaps if I added his castle and the covens that follow him…”

So long as his underlings weren’t out hunting innocent people, you generally had no reason to hunt them. The life of someone from the paranormal was tough, that you knew from the few supernatural acquaintances you had.

Not every dark being wanted to kill, they simply had to for survival. More often than not, it was humans that didn’t give them any options, hunting them down for being a dark being, or not helping them control their hunger.

On one hand, you understood the human perspective, to a degree. Why help something that needs to feed on your lifeblood to survive?

But on the other hand… If humanity helped them instead of scorned them, they would have no reason to hunt humans in the first place. Such as the blood banks to help feed vampires, so they were fed and didn’t have to give into their instincts.

Unfortunately, those weren’t incredibly popular as you’d like them to be. At least some of humanity was giving it a shot though…

Blowing a tuft of hair out of your face, you scowled. It really was an unending battle.

Didn’t help humans and many of the supernatural thought themselves above the other. No doubt if Dracula miraculously agreed not to kill humans, others would just find that stupid and do it anyway.

And you also figured others would come to hunt Dracula themselves. Even if the man agreed to leave humans alone, you doubted humans, let alone the church would take kindly to him just existing.

Hell, was his son even still alive? Alucard, you think his name was?

You had read about him from different journals of different Belmonts. It was clear the man was immortal, despite the human blood running through his veins

How the man was Dracula’s son, who had sworn to kill his father any time he should rise.

Swallowing thickly, you suddenly felt a bit sick.

Would you… Would you have to fight Alucard? The same man your ancestors thought so fondly of?

Somehow, that thought made your stomach churn.

You didn’t even know if the man was still alive. Could he be? Could Alucard really have hidden himself, even in modern times?

Or perhaps he had put himself to eternal rest until Dracula had awakened once more? You read something about him doing that in one of Richter’s journals. Something about how Alucard awoke to the call of Castlevania after Richter had risen the castle.

You felt your heart tick up a beat. Did that mean Alucard might come here and fight Dracula himself?

Turning onto your other side, you reached out and gently gripped your whip. Its old presence brought you a small comfort.

Chances were, you don’t think you’d have it in you to fight Alucard yourself.

Just like how you didn’t want to fight Dracula, just a little different in reasoning.

Would Alucard even listen if you tried to tell him Dracula didn’t want to kill humans? That is, if you even got Dracula to agree?

No, you doubted it would be that simple or easy.

Perhaps you could just stay out of it? Or at least try talking to him?

“Hah, am I really debating this?” You whispered to yourself, thumb running over some of the grooves of the whip.

You hadn’t even talked to Dracula yet about him leaving humanity alone, and here you were, thinking ahead as if you already accomplished such a feat.

Heaving a sigh, you slid the pillow out from under your head, and placed it on your face with a groan.

The weight of the world was still very much on your shoulders. Even if you didn’t have to fight Dracula now, you still had a job to do.

Protect humanity.

But…

Was it really that bad you were hoping you didn’t have to fight Dracula to do that?

Not just because of your complicated feelings, but would it not be better just to have him be neutral again?

If you did end up fighting and killing him, he would simply come back within a hundred years! It didn’t matter what you would do, fate would no doubt put your family through the ringer once more to defeat him.

Or at least have someone step up to the challenge if not your own family. Perhaps someone from the Morris clan?

Though, if you could make him no longer a threat because he wants to stay out of it, would that not be better for everyone involved?

Of course, you could only hope it would be that easy. Your life had never been simple, and it loved to screw you over time and time again.

However, you found some of your mother’s words echoing in your head.

‘Expect the worst, but hope for the best.’

Moving the pillow on your face to the side, you sighed.

“I can do that. I guess.”

You sat in silence for a few moments, idly listening to the thunder rolling overhead. You still couldn’t get over how this castle seemed to have a peaceful ambience your own home seemed to lack.

A buzz brought you out of your thoughts, and your eyes narrowed.

Hand flinging to the side of the bed, you patted the sheets until you felt the familiar shape of your phone. Picking it up, you felt your heart drop into your stomach.

‘When are u coming home? Dad’s not happy.’

Your mouth went dry, and you felt your body beginning to shake.

That’s right. You have been gone for several days now. It was only a matter of time before someone at home contacted you, asking where you were.

“Figures I couldn’t even have a week…” you mumbled, staring at your screen with badly veiled disdain.

Putting your phone down, you ignored the urge to puke your guts up. Just thinking of heading back to your family home made you nauseous.

Especially if Jason was growing upset you were gone.

“Upset if I’m there. Pissed if I’m away. Bah.”

It wasn’t incredibly surprising. Anytime you had injuries or were sick, you were always expected to ‘pick up the slack’, as they’d say.

Maybe they’d leave you be for a day or two at best if it was noticeably bad. However, you never got your hopes up, especially when it came to injuries.

In their eyes, if you could walk, you could work. If not doing the dirty jobs, then you could at least clean the house while they did the ‘real’ work.

A flare of irritation and anger rose in you.

Sure, you were always annoyed with them, but especially now after everything you have been through over the past few days.

Nearly dying because of your step family, having a manic episode and accidentally reviving your nemesis, said nemesis then caring for you better than anyone has before since your mother passed…

And… you had admittedly enjoyed the past few days, even if you were in enemy territory.

Dracula kept a slight distance with you, that much was obvious. It was clear, however, he was doing so for your comfort.

Even then, he still regularly checked up on you every few hours. You could technically even leave if you wanted, he said he would not stop you or hurt you for doing so.

Just yesterday, he had offered to bring you some books if you needed them, which you had declined.

It had shocked you more than anything that he was willing to offer entertainment, though you suppose you shouldn’t have been too surprised either. Declining had been a gut reaction from surprise, but you made sure to let him know you appreciated the offer.

You weren’t sure you could really even read anything he gave you, given you didn’t know what books he had. You would have had to see for yourself, and you didn’t want to bother him about it.

Though… It wasn’t like you could have gotten too much reading done with how much you had been sleeping and thinking. The few times you did need a distraction, you still had your phone too, which miraculously still somehow had a data connection.

Given how you were healing though… You wouldn’t mind a book now. A bit too late to ask for it though, you supposed.

Letting out a shaky breath, you looked at your phone once more.

The text almost seemed to taunt you.

They wanted you back, after hurting you, nearly killing you. All over ‘training’. As if nothing had happened.

Granted, you did tell them as you left to pretend it never happened. You think. Your memory of that fight was a bit hazier than you would like to admit.

Probably bloodloss.

Still…

Did they think they could just make demands? Just like that?

A part of you wanted to call Seth, the one who had texted you, and chew him out. Tell him about the hell you endured because of them, and how you almost died because they didn’t give a single shit about you.

How you wanted to rip into them, unload every single thing they have done to piss you off and ruin your life.

How a part of you wanted to go home and cut them to pieces slowly and-

You froze.

The grip on your phone was tight, and you felt your breathing grow heavy.

Carefully, you put your phone down on the bed, and took a deep breath.

You were angry, but you hated when those thoughts began to show. It never led to a good place mentally when you thought about killing them.

It wouldn’t be worth it.

Even if you did feel a sick satisfaction from it, which you know you would have, you would still suffer.

Being a Belmont only protected you from the law so much. The city you lived in didn’t know what went on behind closed doors. To the city, your little step family did everyone a favor by keeping the ‘beasts’ away.

If you killed them, you would be arrested. You would lose everything you worked hard for.

Your home, your heirlooms, your whip.

Sure, you could survive on the run for a while… But it wouldn’t be worth it.

The whole reason you put up with those jackasses was because you wanted to keep your home safe. You couldn’t exactly do that if you couldn’t go home.

Life really sucked right now.

But at least… you found temporary peace.

Idly, you clutched your phone again, wondering if you should answer Seth, or ignore him like you wanted to.

Given just looking at your screen and seeing the message made pricks of anxiety and frustration bloom in your chest, you decided to ignore it for now.

You couldn’t ignore it forever. Things would get worse if you did, and you already dreaded what the house must look like since you’ve been gone.

No doubt Jason’s attitude has been foul, you wouldn’t be surprised if he took it out on your home, just for you to clean up.

Scowling, you let out a small noise of annoyance.

After another moment, you decided to sit up. The soft sheets slid to your hips, and you winced as some weight shifted to a wound.

Hand twitching, you resisted the urge to open your bandages to look at your injuries.

Most were beginning to heal rather nicely since Dracula had brought you a potion. However, you still had a long way to go before you were fully recovered.

At the very least, maybe it wouldn’t be that long if Dracula truly intended to keep having potions made for you.

Yet another concept that floated around in your head that still managed to surprise you.

It’s almost funny. If you had been any other Belmont, you were certain you probably would have been mocked and tortured for having injuries. You doubted he would have extended the same kindness as he had you.

This didn’t help the fuzzy feeling in your chest when you thought about him, in an odd way.

You were special to Dracula, at least right now you were.

He wanted you alive for now. Alive and well.

Wringing your hands close to your chest, you tried not to sigh again.

What were you going to do?

As you tried once again to think over your options, your eyes caught your figure in one of the mirrors in the room. One near a dresser meant to look over outfits, you presumed.

Though you couldn’t help but scrunch up your face when you noticed your reflection.

You looked awful. Felt it too, even if your injuries were doing better.

Despite this, Dracula still treated you so gently, and with respect.

As you were deep in your musings, you ended up jumping a bit when you heard the familiar brisk knock at your door.

You knew right away who it was, having memorized just how particular Dracula had been knocking on your door.

Perhaps it was on purpose? A knock you would grow to recognize in case someone else knocked on your door?

Regardless, you didn’t keep him waiting, telling him to come in.

You would admit though, you never got over the slight surprise you had as he entered your room each time.

His presence alone was intimidating, even as he made a point to try and not be as such. How he seemingly called for attention as he entered a room, even if he didn’t utter a word.

It was both impressive, and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

Nervous? Sure. Into it? You had to mentally smack your brain a little to avoid your thoughts going in that direction as he was in the same room as you-

“Good afternoon.” He spoke as he closed the door behind him, his voice deep and quiet. You know for a fact he had a voice that could lead an entire army, or gently put you to sleep.

A dangerous voice, one you liked a bit too much.

-Nodding to him, you gave him a small smile. It was strange, how relaxed you were becoming around him with each visit.

A part of you still yearned for it to never end.

But your phone weighed heavy in your hand, a solid reminder you couldn’t stay. Unspoken consequences idly rolled around in your head, which was beginning to make you grow queasy.

Dracula’s eyes seemed to see through you, and you wondered if he could read your mind with how his gaze seemed to look at your very soul.

You certainly hoped he couldn’t read your mind, otherwise things would be pretty awkward with all the suggestive thoughts you have been mentally fighting off with a bat that floated through your head.

Thankfully, Dracula didn’t say a thing about that, simply sitting down in the chair you decided to keep next to your bed.

“Are you feeling well? Has the potion helped?”

He asked, bringing you out of your thoughts.

Heart pounding slightly, you smiled a bit wider.

“Yes! It has helped tremendously. My head no longer feels as if someone hit it with a hammer, and I’m mostly just sore at this point.”

Granted, that didn’t mean you were out of the woods yet. Your pain tolerance was higher than most. Just because you felt better, didn’t mean you were greenlit to go do any serious activities or hunting.

Despite your inner musings, Dracula seemed pleased.

“Good, good…”

He then reached into his cloak, and pulled out what you assumed to be another bottle filled with potion.

It had been a little while since he gave you that first dose, so it should be safe to consume more..

Potions could be taken in large quantities, but it wasn’t exactly recommended.

The concoctions filled a person’s stomach, but didn’t offer any nutritional value other than healing wounds. It could even make a person sick if consumed too much without a break or food in between major doses.

Not that it stopped you before. You didn’t exactly have the luxury of being picky at home when constantly fighting illness and injury. Growing sick from too much potion was a risk you often had to take.

You decided to keep that thought to yourself as you took the bottle from Dracula’s hands.

“If your healing continues to progress, you should be completely healed in less than a week. Maybe even sooner once those other potions are finished.” Dracula spoke, drawing your attention back to him.

A week? You didn’t think you had that kind of time. You’d probably need to be home at most, three days from now.

Dracula gave you an odd look.

“Is that not satisfactory?”

You blinked, eyes widening slightly.

“Oh, no! That… that isn’t the issue at all. It’s… It’s just…” you stumbled over your words, running a hand through your hair as you tried to figure out how to explain without seeming unthankful.

Dracula remained patient, letting you figure out what to say. His gaze was cool, yet curious.

A part of you also swore you saw amusement as you fumbled your sentences together.

Nervously, you began to wring your hands together, and fiddle with your shirt.

“…I just… I’m uh, I’m expected to be home soon…”

Dracula raised a brow at your small explanation.

Immediately, you also felt the temperature of the room drop. Enough to make the hair on your neck stand on end, and send a shudder down your spine.

You hoped you hadn’t pissed him off by saying that…

The gaze on Dracula’s face shifted, going from barely concealed amusement, to something… darker.

Old instincts began to wake, and you seriously hoped this wouldn’t be the end of the small little bit of peace you have had up until now.

The last thing you wanted was a fight.

An intimidating silence took hold of the room, and you forced yourself not to reach for your whip out of nerves. After a few moments, Dracula then broke said silence.

“This home of yours…”

He leaned close to you, his eyes bearing into your own.

“…Is it the same place where you received these injuries?”

For a moment, it felt as if the wind had been taken out of your sails.

“…Huh?”

You were confused. Was he… not upset with you?

Dracula tilted his head, those same ruby eyes flickering over where you were still injured.

“Forgive me for being presumptuous, but is that not where you were attacked? Was it within your own home?”

The question had your eyes wide.

“I uh-“

Dracula leaned back, though the odd feeling in the room didn’t settle.

“Of course, you don’t have to answer. But if I am right, is it that pressing to return before you are fully healed to handle whoever, or whatever dealt such blows?”

His questions had you pausing, and you felt your mouth run dry.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say Dracula seemed apprehensive about you returning home where you were hurt.

Almost as if he cared.

The very thought had your mind whirring in overdrive. If someone had told you months ago that Dracula himself seemed to care about you, you would have laughed in their face.

But with everything he has done for you… was it really that far fetched?

If anything, you could at least argue he’d hate to see all the hard work done in healing you go to waste, but you were certain it was more than that.

Again, not good for your conflicted feelings on Mr. Lord of the Night himself.

Rubbing the back of your head with a sigh, you felt yourself droop a little.

“It’s… complicated, but yes. I have to return home soon, or things might get messy.”

The very thought of what might happen if you disappeared too long left a sour feeling in your stomach.

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and he held your gaze for a few moments.

“…I assume you can’t put this off then? That it must be urgent?” He asked, his voice low.

Nodding, you tried to keep holding his gaze, not wanting to seem weak about it.

“Unfortunately. I… I risk a lot if I wait too long.”

Dracula’s eyes narrowed on you, before he closed them with a sigh.

“Like I have mentioned before, you are my guest here. You are free to leave at any point you wish, nor are you to be attacked as you do so. However…”

Your head tilted slightly, heart picking up at the end of his sentence. However…?

“Are you… certain this is wise? That there is nothing else that can be done?”

Shaking your head, you finally looked away.

“…Will you be hurt again?”

You stayed silent, telling Dracula all he needed to know, even if you refused to elaborate.

Why bother making an empty promise? Even if you don’t get hurt this time when you head home, what about the next? You knew all too well it was practically a waiting game until you were sick or injured again.

With your silence, the room somehow became increasingly colder.

Daring to look up, you were surprised to see the red of his eyes glowing slightly, much like how he had found you.

He really didn’t seem to like the implications you left him with.

But what could you say?

‘Yeah, my step family might try to beat the shit out of me or leave me the rotten leftovers to eat, or even make me do the yucky missions. No doubt I’ll be injured or sick again by the end of the month!’

Yeah… that probably sounded a bit pathetic. Some Belmont you were, allowing your own ‘family’ to use you as a punching bag.

Dracula eventually let out a sigh, and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He looked frustrated. Or worried? You couldn’t be too sure.

A moment passed. Then another. You weren’t entirely sure what to say.

Another sigh left his lips, and when he moved his hand to look at you, his eyes briefly glowed once again, before returning to their same ruby red they were before.

The room remained cold, though the look in his face wasn’t quite as scathing or irritated.

“Very well then. It seems this is personal and important to you. Whenever you wish to leave, I will personally escort you out of the castle.”

A part of you grew warm and fuzzy at that. And they say chivalry is dead.

However, before you could bask in that warm, fuzzy feeling, his voice rang out once more.

“Before you leave however, we have much to discuss.”

You blinked.

“Huh?”

As if a switch had been flipped, his entire posture seemed to shift.

His back was up straighter, and he crossed his legs. He then rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, resting his head on his fist.

His eyes seemed to sharpen as his gaze then zeroed in on you.

Your mouth went dry.

It was as if his entire demeanor changed.

Hair on your neck stood on end, and out of nowhere, it was as if a stone settled uncomfortably in your stomach.

“You had mentioned wishing to talk back when I was… imprisoned. If you are going to leave, I imagine you would wish to discuss this before you do so.”

You felt your blood run cold.

Ah. That.

Now you understood why his demeanor had changed so much in a matter of seconds.

No longer were you just talking to Dracula, your polite host.

You were now discussing terms with Dracula, King of the Night.

#castlevania #vlad dracula tepes #dracula #dracula x reader #castlevania x reader #x reader #reader insert #vlad dracula țepeș #reader x dracula #zed.writes #love that bites #belmont!reader #long post

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subtly-a-selkie · 2 years

Note

I think I and lots of other people would really appreciate a part two of the Tadashi story? Pretty please with a cherry on top!

Here you go!! Sorry for the delay there was a slight dilemma on what perspective to put it in but i did my best! You can always request a specific perspective when you request if you prefer a different one. Everyone who showed any interest in a part two was tagged so please let me know if you would prefer not to be.

Word Count: 1800 ish (whoops)

Warnings: grammatical errors and weird formatting (even though it was written on my phone the formatting shouldn’t be that bad) slight angst (?) posted/written late at night so possible weird phrases

You fumble with the remote, switching through the channels in search of something--anything interesting. Anything that wasn't what was previously on to be honest, lately all the news could talk about was the fire and the loss of Professor Callaghan and student Tadashi Hamada. You did not want to think about that thank you very much. Finally settling on a news report about six new superheroes of all things, you go back to what you were doing which was giving the kitchen a much needed scrubbing.

After the news of Tadashi's death you shut down, not even managing to go to his funeral. Looking back on it now you figured that was for the best considering you hadn't yet been introduced to his aunt and little brother. Shaking yourself out of those thoughts before it became too much you aggressively scrub at the counter attempting to remove the crust that adorned it. Luckily for your sanity the kitchen was the last room to clean.

"Ew." you say to no one in particular, except maybe the cat that was making it increasingly difficult to clean the kitchen. The news story finished and switched to something else, and although it wasn't what the news had been obsessing over it did hit a little too close to home. You switch off the television and resume cleaning in a almost stifling silence, left alone with your thoughts and a very unhelpful cat.

Your house was so clean you could practically see little sparkles like the ones in cartoons and all you had to do is hang back up the pictures. You had an assortment of photos, a few of your cat as a kitten, some of your family and friends, and some of Tadashi. Some of the photos of Tadashi included you and some were just him. You even had one of him, his aunt and his brother. You debated putting that one back up as it was slightly weird to have a photo of people you had never met. Tadashi was the one who had put it up in the first place. Your riveting debate with yourself is cut short by the doorbell and you place the photo with the rest.

You open the door and your eyes go wide with shock, although you had never met Hiro in person you certainly recognized him from the pictures and videos Tadashi would show you.

“Are you Y/N?”

“Oh! Uh yes… please come in Hiro.” You stumble over your words, mind rushing with questions on why he was here. Your eyes widen even further on seeing the giant marshmallow of a robot behind him.

“Baymax?” You realize that you are blocking the both of them from entering and quickly move aside, fingers worrying at the small necklace Tadashi had gifted you. “Oh! Sorry. Uhm. I didn’t expect you.”

“Baymax showed me the videos you and Tadashi had made.” Hiro replies gently picking up one of the photos of you and Tadashi that you had already put back. You both smiled at the camera, eyes lit up by the sun. Your nose was scrunched and your arms thrown around him and his hair was ruffled from the breeze.

“You were his girlfriend?” Hiro asks quietly.

“I was.” You pause and glance at him still holding the photo “That picture was taken at the beach, he loved to take me there.”

“Why didn’t he tell me about you?” He asks more to himself than you. You could tell he was struggling with thoughts about his brother lying to him.

“He was going to tell you after you got into SFIT.” You say, your voice cracking. “I thought that you were having a hard enough time without having to deal with making room in your family for me.”

“Tadashi was reluctant to agree with your choice.” Baymax says causing you to startle, you had almost forgotten that he was there.

His torso began to light up and you and Tadashi come into view.

“Hiro was at another bot fight last night.” Tadashi said working on what seemed to be one of Baymax’s arms.

“I could tell.” You laughed gently, placing your hands on his shoulders. “You fix Baymax a lot more aggressively when he does.” The two of you stayed like that for a bit before you spoke again. “Do you want to talk about it Dashi?” You moved your hands forward, clasping them together and leaning against his back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He put the tools down and turned towards you so you were standing between his legs, kissing your cheek in return.

“I’m worried for him you know? i can’t protect him forever and once he gets older there will be real consequences for his actions.”

“He graduated high school at thirteen. He wants to keep learning and be challenged and bot fighting is what’s scratching that itch.” You smiled fondly “I remember you being the same way in high school although luckily I was horrible enough at math that tutoring me kept you from bot fighting.”

“I don’t think I would have ever turned to bot fighting. Even without you to ground me.”

“Of course you wouldn’t have, you had Hiro to take care of. You had to step into a father figure role and you weren’t able to do anything reckless when you had had him depending on you.”

“So I have two options, get someone for him to tutor or have a kid and die forcing him to grow up.” You laughed lightly at that.

“Or you could find something else to challenge him in a not illegal way.” You paused, prompting him to figure it out himself. “Something that is similar to the things he enjoys about bot fighting?”

“You’re a genius Y/N, thank you!” Tadashi exclaimed, pulling you down to his lap for a proper kiss. You smiled into it before pulling away.

“Being a genius is your job. I just know teenagers.”

“Even more of a reason for me to introduce you to him.”

“After.” You smiled brushing the hair out of his eyes.

“After he gets in to SFIT?”

“It be a bit too much for this big transition to happen and him needing to accept me into the family.” You paused. “After he settles.”

“You could help him settle! He’ll see you anyways because you’re here most of the time.”

“Okay.” You agree. “After he gets into SFIT.”

He kissed you again before you maneuvered yourself out out of your grasp.

“Go talk to him!” You said pulling him up by his hands.

“My lab is a mess.” He said in reply gesturing to the pieces of Baymax strewn about.

“I’ll clean it.” you shrugged. “I’ve got nothing else to do, my big test was yesterday.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He smiled and kissed you again before leaving.

You began to clean when something on Baymax caught your eye.

“Oh! How long have you been recording?” You said to the robot. You smiled into the camera and spoke again. “Now don’t tell Dashi this but i went to go see Hiro bot fight a couple times. He’s got all this talent he just needs to focus it. I’m sure he’ll love it here, there’s all these resources for him to draw from and teachers that will be happy to teach him.”

Feeling around the camera you frowned, “Now where is that off button?” You evidently found it as the picture froze.

Hiro breaks the silence that had settled after the recording. “You came to watch me bot fight? How did you even find me?”

“There’s only so many illegal bot fights. It wasn’t too hard to find the one you fought at.” The silence grew and you speak again. “Would you like anything? I have tea and little cookies? Dashi’s favorite.” You quietly add “We can talk if you would like.”

“The little cookies sound good are they the chocolate ones?”

“Yes.” You smile faintly and invite him and Baymax to the living room.

“Tea can be very hot and dangerous. I shall accompany you.” Baymax states shuffling past you to the kitchen. Your faint smile grows at the memory that caused Tadashi to program that phrase and you follow after.

Returning to the living room with the tea and cookies you see Hiro looking at the pictures you had spread out. Setting the tray down on the table you sit next to him, smiling at the photo he holds. It’s Tadashi and a little girl about a year old, he was lying on the couch and holding her gently, one hand resting carefully on her back and the early morning light softly illuminating their faces. She was still asleep and clutching to his shirt, her pacifier that had been gently clipped to her light yellow onesie resting on his shoulder. He was pressing a kiss to the top of her head and his free hand was entwined with yours.

“Who’s the baby?” Hiro asks quietly and you smile at him.

“She’s my cousin. I babysit her when my aunts have date nights.” He places the picture back on the table and picks up another, the one of him, Tadashi, and his aunt. “That was Dashi’s.” You explain.

“Oh.” Hiro replies and lowers it back to the table, choosing a different one to hold. “And this one?”

You explain the story behind that photo too, and than another and another until you run out of pictures. Both you and Hiro are smiling at the end of your stories and he helps you find places to put them all.

“You should come see Aunt Cass!” Hiro says excitedly. “She would love you.”

“Are you sure she wouldn’t be upset that she didn’t know I was dating Tadashi?” You question adjusting the picture frame of a photo of your cat when you first found her.

“I think that she would be upset that Tadashi never told her but not upset at you.”

“I’m the one who insisted on it.”

“Trust me that wont really register.”

“Okay.” You smile at him already feeling like he was your own little brother.

“Great let’s go!”

“Oh! Uh now?”

“When else?”

“I suppose we can go now I just need to put away the tea and-”

“Okay okay.” Hiro cuts you off “Just hurry up!”

People tagged <3

@sillyfreakfanparty

@katerinaval

@discount-izukumidoriya

@heyyo-peeps

@soleil-lei

@weigheddownbyfandoms

#tadashi x reader #tadashi imagine #tadashi hamada #bh6 tadashi #hiro hamada #baymax #big hero 6 x reader #big hero six #big hero 6 #bh6 fandom #san fransokyo #sibling bonding #i love you <3 #tadashi hamada x reader

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seeminglydark · 13 days

Note

1. would caro and john be into the tv show, the x-files? would they buy tapes of the episodes and talk about their own conspiracies and guess about the outcomes of the episodes.

2. also your comic has help peak my interest for the supernatural and conspiracy theories. what are some stories or theories that you’ve learned about that you have found the most interesting? and were you a believer before starting your comics or has your interest grown as you’ve continued with your comics.

3.lastly, i’m trying to buy more secondhand items and become the diy punk that i’ve aspired to be since high school (too afraid since i was a closeted trans man and living with an unaccepting family), any tips?

i, like john, try to stay away from modern tech as much as i can. i’m able to stay off my phone for the most part and rarely use my computer but i’ve been looking around and audiobooks on cassette are kinda expensive around me so i like to narrate book as i read them in paperback. i was wondering if canonically john uses resources such as the library and what his favorite books and movies are. i love horror and am just now getting into sci-fi and i love watching movies on my vcr + tv combo and i sometimes use a blu-ray player for more rare or expensive (at least in vhs format) movies.

sorry for the long winded paragraph, i’m unfortunately unable to escape my strict household (despite being an adult) until i find a job and am able to save every cent. i also tend to isolate myself so i have no friends to help me out. sorry to vent to you about this but i just wanted to end this by saying your comic and characters inspire me and give me hope that i’ll be okay once i’m free.

YES. John is obsessed with x-files. every once in a while you can see he has the iconic 'i want to believe' poster in his younger years on his walls. He still has it as an adult. both caro and john like watching those together, they also enjoy the twilight zone, charmed, Buffy (they they agree the corny movie from '92 is the best) and those old Bruce Campbell shows noones heard of, re: Brisco County Jr. I think as kids they theorize, and as adults they talk about everything everyone gets wrong, now that they know how these things really work. John can always guess WhoDunnit.

Ive always been interested in the idea of the supernatural. im a big skeptic though, ill be honest there, even though ive had many 'experiences' myself. i kinda like the idea of the unbelievable. definitely making the comics has peaked my interest in things i wasn't too keenly aware of before, like cryptids. im fascinated by the concept of Missing 411, and missing people who reappear somewhere else, but Liminal Spaces hold my heart specifically. ive always been keenly aware of the off feeling in those places before i even knew what that meant. i love scouring the internet for images of things like abandoned hotels that give me a weird kind of uneasy, most of the things people tag as Liminal aren't really that, so its a scavenger hunt to find something that fits my idea of it. coming up with the lore of my stories has been an adventure. my interest has definitely grown, more in places and phenomenon than in ghosts specifically.

there are so mnay things you can do to diy punk stuff, in my opinion thats the best and most rewarding way. it sounds to me that you need to start small and slow for your safety, so let me reassure you right here anon, that punk is a set of ideals, and not just fashion. youre still punk no matter what youre wearing. a jacket or vest is always a good place to start, you can literally buy ANYTHING at the thift store that strikes your fancy. this is a canvas you will be adding too for as long as its yours. once you have your canvas, its time to create, and there is literally no wrong way to do this. you can use paint markers, embroidery, bleach, ect. dont have money for spikes and studs? you can use soda can tabs and bend them, metal lighter caps, hell even staples and safety pins always look cool. you can make your own badges by bending metal soda or beer caps around a soda tab with a safety pin through it and then paint whatever you want on the cap. dental floss is what you usually see when punks have the white stitching on their pants and jackets, its durable and doesn't break, since crust and gutter punks need tough clothes that last. if you're worried about your family, i would personalize it first in small secret ways that are just for you, such as a message beneath your collar as seen here on my friends jacket. and here, and here! he hides patches on the inside as well! Im including a pic of john hiding a patch on caros varsity jacket as well. i will post my jackets one day, my camera is broken but i figured id share his since he hides things more than i do!

John absolutely uses the library, its a fantastic resource for SO many things, depending on where you're located. He would also probably use a digital reader later, because many of them you can get library cards on and borrow books that way. he is not a strong reader so he mostly reads books that may be under his age level, like goosebumps, but who cares, do what you enjoy. movie wise hes very obsessed with cosmic horror (hence the UFO tattoo) his favorites are Alien, The Thing, Killer Klowns from Outer Space and the Blob from the 80s. both he and Caro love the original Evil Dead franchise, horror comedy like American Werewolf in London, lost boys, etc.

Thank you, Anon, for the long winded paragraph. You asked some really fun questions for me to answer, i love nothing more than to talk about my characters, it was a really nice little break from editing a new podcast episode. I am so so sorry about your situation, and i am sending you all the best and all the love and strength that you can come out of this free and on the other side and live as yourself. If my comics and characters stories can provide a tiny bit of hope that its going to be ok, than ive succeeded at what i set out to do. wishing you all the best. and look into your library, they may have resources to help you with this as well.

#rj rambles #ask me things #punk stuff #diy #horror things #supernatural things #anon

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bubblesreplies · 2 years

Text

The Middle

Max Brinly X Female Reader

Oneshot

APPARENTLY IF YOU’RE READING THIS IN ANY DARK COLORED FORMAT ON TUMBLR (LIKE NIGHT MODE) IT LOOKS FUCKING WEIRD AND IDK HOW TO FIX IT I’M SO SORRY.

A/N: No, I'm not neglecting my other fics to write a random oneshot? Why would you even suggest---fuck it here it is besties. Anyways, this product of procrastination is dedicated and written for my bestie @house-of-kolchek, who loves Max as much as I do.

WARNINGS AND TAGS: NSFW 18+ ONLY, this is unedited and might be awful, Reader is Jacob's cousin, manipulative!Emma but like in a good way, BFF!Emma, Emma/Jacob, Abi/Nick, making Emma cooler than she is, sweetheart!Max, unrequited love (assumably), forced proximity, sex jokes, unsafe seating situations while driving DO NOT DO THIS PLEASE, lap-sitting, erections, staring down your shirt, teasing, love confessions, very very cheesy and idc anymore

Word Count: 8k

Main Masterlist

“EMMA, that is the stupidest idea in seriously the entire world.”

You meant it, too; you already thought that this little impromptu camping trip was an awful idea; the last time that the group of you were out in the woods, it ended with werewolves, so, could anybody really be blamed for not wanting to tempt fate? And now hearing Emma’s latest plan, you couldn’t help but say fuck this whole entire trip and its mom, too.

“Oh—come on!” Emma insisted with a pout across her face, leaning across her oversized suitcase—who in the world needed all of that space for a weekend camping trip? “Babes, you are my wing-woman here—my ultimate girl. Come on, please—Jacob won’t even look at me when we hang out. I really need your help with this!”

You sighed; a year ago, when the ten of you—eight, if you considered the fact that you hadn’t actually met two of the camp counselors until the end of the summer—worked at Hackett’s Quarry and endured that shitshow of a summer, you hadn’t even liked Emma. You didn’t like how she had your cousin, Jacob, mooning all over her like she owned the whole fucking Earth. You didn’t like the way that the nicest girl you’d ever met seemed to think she walked on water, too, and you did not appreciate the fact that she thought she was entitled to tell you all the ways that you were doing your makeup all wrong.

But then, that night happened. The night of the full moon, when your idiot cousin sabotaged the van just to get another night with the woman he’d fallen in love with who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about him. The night where the ten of you had miraculously survived werewolves, and a crazy-ass family trying to kill you all night. That night was what changed everything.

You’d gotten stranded with Emma running through the woods, and somehow landed yourself in a heated battle with Jacob—who had apparently been bitten by one of those things because he was now one of those things. He, obviously, tried to kill the two of you and Emma thought fast, using a piece of silver jewelry to save both of your lives and buy you enough time to get the hell out of there.

And then, you’d been locked in a room with her and Abi, the three of you not knowing if you would survive the night, and something just…changed. You began to see her differently, and from that point on, throughout this entire past year, the three of you had been best friends.

More you and Emma, if you were being honest, because Abi and Nick had just gotten engaged three months ago and most of her free time went to him.

Not that it hurt your feelings. If you somehow managed to bag the man of your dreams, you’d be spending every free moment with him, too.

“Jacob just…needs time,” you informed her with a groan, throwing your tennis shoes across the room as you frantically looked for your favorite pair of leggings. “He’s still hurt, you know? You can’t just tell him you didn’t mean any of it and then expect him to forgive you and jump back into your arms, Emma.”

“Which is why I need you to get me into his cabin this weekend,” Emma pleaded, getting up from her place on your bed and digging through your drawers as she pulled out the very clothes you were looking for. You swore that sometimes, it was literally like she could read your mind. “All we have to do is fake a fight; I will refuse to sleep in the same cabin as you, and then the boys will offer to switch with us. I’ll get a whole night—and a whole, isolated cabin—with Jacob; and you? Well, let’s not pretend that you aren’t benefitting from my little plan.”

You snorted, shimmying out of your jeans and pulling your leggings up over your legs, smiling as Emma nodded towards your ass in approval. If she thought that you looked good, you could rest assured that you damn well did.

“And how will I benefit from getting into a fake fight with you and causing a scene?” You questioned, your head cocked as Emma passed you your shoes and you eagerly slipped them on. The rest of your group would be here at any minute, and you didn’t want to keep them waiting.

“Because if I end up in Jacob’s cabin, you know who ends up in yours? Max.”

You whipped around and shot Emma a glare, shaking your head like you couldn’t believe that she would just mention his name all casually like that. You’d made her swear to never bring up your pathetic, unrequited crush on Max Brinly ever again, since the day she’d first found out that it even existed in the first place.

You first met Max when the sun came up after that hellish night at Hackett’s Quarry. You and Emma had run back to the island to see if Jacob was there and if he was alive, and you ended up running into Max instead. After lots of screaming and confusion, the two of you finally allowed him to explain just how in the fuck he had gotten there and who he was, which is when you learned that your one night of hell had lasted two months for him and his girlfriend.

Emma had found Jacob and ran after him, but you stayed behind with Max, talking and laughing at his jokes, attempting not to swoon at the adorableness that was his laugh. You had hoped, at the beginning of the summer, to find somebody just like him and have a summer romance. Somebody who was cute, who could make you laugh, and seemed to understand you instantly.

It didn’t work out that way, obviously—seeing as the summer had been over and Max Brinly had a girlfriend.

Laura eventually came back for him and you parted ways, assuming that this would be the last time that you would ever see Max Brinly, attributing your budding feelings for him as some sort of trauma response to the night that you had just been through.

Imagine your surprise when, a month after Hackett’s Quarry, the new co-worker that you were assigned to train at the coffee shop was none other than Max Brinly. You assumed right away that he wouldn’t even remember you—why would he?---but you were wrong. He knew exactly and immediately who you were, and the two of you hit it off just as well as you did the first time you had ever spoken to him. It wasn’t long before you were hanging out with him every single day, and he had slowly become your best friend.

You went to movies together, you got dinner, he came to all of the track and field competitions you ran in at your local university, you helped him study hard enough to get into a new graduate school—literally, anything that you could think of, the two of you did it together. You even stayed the night at each other’s apartments on occasion, both of you knowing what the other’s couch felt like pretty intimately.

In fact, the only time the two of you weren’t together was when Laura came to town to visit her boyfriend. Before she dumped him, at least.

It was nearly a month and a half ago now, that you had sat on this very bed with Max as he sobbed, asking you just to hold him and not ask any questions when he told you that he and Laura had broken up.

“Max isn’t into me, so that really doesn’t help your case,” you grumbled, your pissy mood only continuing to sour the more that you thought about it. After Max and Laura, you thought that you might actually stand a chance with him. After all, he spent all of his free time with you, and you knew that nobody in this world knew him as well as you did—and vice versa. But after the night that he’d sobbed with you, fallen asleep in your bed, and told you how he felt like years of his life were wasted with Laura, nothing ever happened.

He just went right on back to being the same old Max, your friend.

“Do you seriously still think that that boy has no feelings for you whatsoever?” Emma shrieked, watching as Jacob’s car pulled up from the window, hurriedly throwing her hair up into a sexily-tossed messy bun. “‘Cause, if you do, you’re so wrong that it isn’t even funny anymore.”

“Em, if he had feelings for me, then why didn’t anything change after he and Laura broke up?!” You interjected, a frown pulling at your lips as you grabbed your tiny duffel bag and hiked it up over your shoulder. “And also, why would he date Laura for so long if he actually, secretly liked me instead? Your logic isn’t logic-ing,” you insisted, and Emma smirked.

“You are so naive that it’s actually kind of cute,” she responded, rolling her eyes as Jacob opted to honk instead of being a gentleman and coming to the door. Emma sauntered over to you, playing with the ends of your hoodie and eyeing it suspiciously. “Look, just—help me with this plan, and you’ll see, okay? And change into that sexy little top I bought you last month for the car ride.”

“Emma!”

“Just trust me!” Emma insisted, pulling the hoodie up and over your head for you and tossing you the lacey black crop top she’d bought you last month. “Put it on—good, yes, I would so bang you—oh, and just in case you find out that Max also wants to bang you, I snuck condoms into your bag.”

“You have got to be kidding me, Emma!” You shrieked, although it was with a large smile on your face as you were, once again, blown away by the antics of your friend.

Emma only laughed as the two of you rushed down to the car, you having to help Emma with one half of her bag since she’d brought such a gigantic one. You’d barely made it to the door before there was a knock on it—apparently Jacob had decided to be a gentleman after all. Or he’d simply gotten impatient, which was the better bet of the two options.

“Keep your pants on cuz, we’re coming,” you hissed out, lowering your end of Emma’s bag to the ground as you ripped open the door to your apartment. Your annoyed glare dropped and your mouth fell open as you saw Max standing there, his cheeks red and running a hand through his freshly-cut red hair. “Max! I, uh, thought you were Jacob?”

Fuck, why did you sound so fucking awkward?! Your conversation with Emma had you paranoid and upset, and if you kept acting this way, Max would definitely notice. The two of you had crossed the awkward barrier a long time ago.

“Ah, nah,” Max answered, his signature smile flashing across his face and warming you up from the inside out. “Jake’s too possessive over that steering wheel to get his ass over to the door honestly.”

“That and he doesn’t want to have to speak to me,” Emma sighed, lugging her bag forward and hitting Max in the chest with it. You suppressed a giggle as he let out an “Oomph!”, but he caught your smile and playfully sneered at you. “Oh, what a gentleman! And damn, Max, I’ve never noticed how strong you are. Have you, Y/n?! Have you ever noticed those biceps?”

“Cut it out, Emma,” you hissed under your breath, grateful that Max had already turned around and was heaving her oversized bag to the trunk of the car. “I know what you’re doing, and it isn’t going to work on me.”

“What am I doing?” Emma asked with faux innocence, batting her eyelashes heavily down at you before she winked. “Just use it as fuel for our fake fire, if you want, babes. Besides—would it really kill you to admit in front of him that he looks good?! Give the boy a win, Y/n!”

“He does not think of me that way—”

“Hey, um, Emma?” Max called out as you were locking your front door behind you, and you turned and ran over to where he was pursing his lips behind the trunk. “Maybe we should’ve brought a bigger car, but, your bag is not going to fit back here.”

Emma turned to look and her lips, too, were pursed.

“Well, where’s everyone sitting?” She asked, peering her head into the car to check out the situation.

“Well, uh, Jacob’s driving—obviously—Abi and Nick are in the row of two seats behind him, and then he wants you to sit back in the last row with me while Y/n takes the passenger seat,” Max explained, using his hands to gesture to each person. Abi turned around to look at you from her place in the car, Nick’s head in her lap as he slept, and she waved. You waved back, grimacing at the large bag that was seated at your feet.

“Hmm, no, that won’t do,” Emma insisted with a wave of her hand, using all of her strength to heave her bag up and over the full trunk of the car and into the last row of seats. “It’s going to have to go here—and oh, I really didn’t sleep well last night, so if I don’t sit in the passenger seat, I’ll get sick.”

Max’s jaw dropped and he scoffed lightly, looking between the two of you as you held in a large groan.

“I don’t really see how that makes any sense?” He questioned.

“So Y/n will have to sit in the back, with you!” Emma finished with a gleeful squeal, hurrying to shut the trunk and turning to make her way to the passenger seat of the car.

“Um—hold on a minute, just where the fuck in the back will I sit?!” You barked out, gesturing incredulously to the monstrosity that was her luggage all over the back seat of the car. “Your bag is taking up the entire row—all but one seat, Em! And it’s way too fucking big to go down at our feet!”

Emma put a daintly little finger to her chin, and you could tell that she was only pretending to think about the predicament.

“Well, it’s only about a forty-five minute drive,” she informed you, a wicked smile pushing its way onto her lips. “It’s not that long, so, just sit on Max’s lap?”

Your eyes widened and you felt sweat beading on the back of your neck, your heart beating at an intensely quick pace just at the mere thought of having to sit on Max. One look at Max’s face showed he heard her suggestion, too, because it was unnaturally blank and pale.

You walked closer to Emma, pulling her into you as you said, “You better be fucking for real with your next suggestion, or we will get in an actual fight, Emma,” you warned her, your voice low enough that Max couldn’t hear it. You noticed that he was already ushering Nick and Abi out of the car, hurrying to his seat in the back, and the three of them were just waiting on you.

“Oh my g—will you just trust me, for once in your life?!” Emma begged dramatically, clinging onto your arm and giving you a little push towards Max. “Thank me later, hoe.”

Oh no, I will not be thanking you later, you sneaky little she-devil, you thought to yourself, climbing over Abi’s seat and landing ungracefully into Max’s lap. He caught you much more elegantly than you fell, luckily, and he helped you right yourself so that your back was facing his chest.

You turned your face towards him despite the fact that it was burning, and you brushed a strand of hair back behind your ear.

“You know, I could always just sit on her bag instead of on you,” you offered, geturing weakly over to the big problem that Emma had handed over to the two of you with a private sneer at her back. “That way I won’t crush your legs into tiny pieces of ash.”

Max actually laughed out loud at that and your heart swelled with a feeling of accomplishment; Max was funny, he had probably always been funny, and anytime that you had gotten him to laugh, you took it as a personal achievement.

“Please sweetheart, as if you could,” Max retorted, winding an arm around your waist as he pulled your back flush against his chest, leaving his arm to rest across your stomach and his fingers splayed across your hipbone. You closed your eyes, holding in a sigh as you prayed that he couldn’t see the way that your face had reddened from this angle. “Besides, this is probably the…safer option of the two.”

You heartily disagreed with that.

Still, you positioned yourself against him, awkwardly playing with your fingers on your lap as you had no idea where to rest your hands. You and Max were close, yes, but you had never physically been close, aside from a few silly moments of teasing tickles, accidentally falling asleep on his shoulder, or him resting his legs on your lap as the two of you watched a movie together. This was entirely new territory, and you had no idea what to do with it, and you knew that if Emma hadn’t forced this to happen, that Max wouldn’t have chosen to even be in this situation with you. Probably.

“Jacob, the drive is forty-five minutes?” You called up to him, wincing as you watched your cousin’s teeth grit in the rearview mirror as he attempted to ignore Emma completely.

“An hour, if traffic’s bad,” Jacob called back and you groaned, your leg shaking furiously in your nervousness. As if Max could sense that you were on edge—fuck, with the way that you were bouncing around he probably could feel it—his other hand landed on your thigh, rubbing calming circles around as he successfully got it to stop shaking.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so anxious today,” you sighed, rubbing a hand down your face and leaning back into Max. You could hear his groan and you winced, assuming you had hurt him, as you instantly tried to reposition yourself to take some of the weight off of him.

After a few minutes of frantic wiggling, Max’s hands harshly gripped onto your waist, his fingernails digging into you as he held you tightly into place and you froze, your eyes wide and breath held.

“Y/n, please—stop.” Max’s voice was incredibly hoarse, coming out in a groan and you winced again, mortified that you had hurt him enough to elicit this sort of response.

“Oh shit, Max! I am so sorry—I was trying not to hurt you and then I did hurt you and—”

“Y/n!” Max interrupted, clearing his throat so that his voice sounded a lot more normal and less husky. “Honey, you’re not hurting me, just—don’t wiggle around right—there.”

Your eyebrows raised in confusion at his words and your brain couldn’t process what the hell he was saying, so you just opted to nod, leaning forward as far as you could and beginning a conversation with Abi as you tried with every ounce of your being to not put much weight on Max. It took every ounce of concentration that you had to not think about the fact that you were touching the love of your life and focus on Abi’s words about wedding planning, but somehow, you did it.

“Hey, uh, Jake?” Max suddenly called out, and you noticed that his voice had gone hoarse again and that his tone was tight and clipped. Higher than normal. You frowned; in your conversation with Abi, you had slipped a little further backwards than you’d realized, back into his lap. “How much longer?”

“Thirty minutes,” Jacob growled, and you noticed Emma looking a little offput herself. “It’s looking closer to an hour total at this point.”

“Alright then, we need to stop,” Max insisted and you stifled a pathetic whine, embarrassed that you were this hard to bear just sitting on his lap. It probably didn’t help that you were still actively avoiding any and all contact with him, practically leaving him here in the backseat to talk to himself as you ignored him, anxious and letting Emma’s words get to your head.

You needed to stop. You and Max were friends. Good friends, and you were being absolutely ridiculous about this whole thing.

Three minutes later, Jacob pulled off at a reststop and you lifted off of Max instantly, watching him scamper out of the car after Abi and Nick and hurrying into the men’s restroom. With everyone out of the car but you and Emma, you climbed over the seats and sat between her seat and the driver’s seat, staring at her with wide eyes.

“So,” you started out, pointedly ignoring the tears in her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t want to talk about it right now. “Your plan to make me sit on Max is not working; I can barely say two words to the guy, and his poor legs are getting crushed by me. He probably can’t think of anything but leg cramps!”

“Oh, please,” Emma scoffed, dabbing at her eyes with a tissued and waving your worries away with a flick of her hand. “Look at him, and look at you; there must be some other reason he needs a break.”

“Oh yeah?” You fought back, crossing your arms over your chest as you frowned at your friend. “Like what, exactly? It’s not working Emma, you’re miserable up here, and I am back there; we should just switch places. You’re smaller than me.”

“I am not,” Emma sighed.

“All I know is one minute, I can’t sit still, and the next minute, he’s grabbing my hips and telling me to stop wiggling around,” you continued on, as if Emma hadn’t even interjected. “What else could it be if not that I was—”

You instantly stopped talking as Emma looked over to you, mouth opened and eyes glinting with excitement.

“You poor naive little thing!” She giggled, pulling your arms so that you were practically sitting on her lap. “Y/n, you aren’t hurting him—you’re turning him on and he doesn’t want you to feel it!”

You felt pinpricks across your face as the entire thing turned white, and you were suddenly feeling a little nauseous.

“What?” You questioned, shaking your head lutching nervously at your hair. “What? I—no, Max isn’t—he wasn’t—”

“Oh, yes, yes he was,” Emma argued, and there was a light in her eyes that replaced whatever sadness she had been feeling before you came up there to talk to her. “Okay, do exactly as I say; when Max comes back out to the car, sit back on him just like you were that first time. Wiggle around a bit again—”

“What? No!”

“Just trust me—wiggle around a little bit again, then ask him if he wants to watch something with you on your phone. When you turn it on, lean back against him so that your back is arched and he gets a good, full view down your—”

“Okay, and this is where I officially stop you, you are crazy,” you intoned, shaking your head and leaning away from your friend. “Max is not into me—in case you managed to forget about that, babes—and besides, I can’t just show him my boobs, Emma! They’re my—boobs. They’re, like, private.”

“Holy fuck, how are you not a virgin,” Emma groaned, shoving you back towards your seat as she pointed eagerly out of the car. “Okay, babes, here he comes—just trust me, okay?! Do it!”

You opened your mouth to argue again, but the words fell from your lips as the car door opened and Max poked his head inside, grinning over at you as his eyes darted back and forth between you and Emma.

“What, uh, what’s going on here?” He asked, and you shot a glare at Emma as she giggled, hiding her face in her shirt and sending an ominous wink your way. You tried as well as you could to tell her to shut up with your eyes, but she ignored you in typical Emma fashion.

“Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head and sending him a smile. “I was just feeling nervous about getting away this weekend and Emma was talking me down. That’s it.”

“Ah,” Max yawned, heading back to his seat and patting his lap for you to join him. You blushed. “Is that why you’re acting so weird? You haven’t spoken to me for the last, like twenty-five minutes.”

“Yeah, sorry, just nervous,” you insisted, climbing back over Abi’s seat and settling yourself on top of Max’s lap. As you looked up after readjusting, your eyes met Emma’s in the rearview mirror and she nodded, looking from you to Max’s…well…yeah.

You cleared your throat, feeling the burn of your phone in your pocket as you stared widely back at her, conveying that she was being way too obvious, here. Regardless, a part of you was…curious, now, and with Laura out of the picture and Max completely single, it’s not like a little testing of the waters was inappropriate anymore. What could it hurt, really? Max was too nice to reject you, so if he wasn’t into it, he just wouldn’t say anything and you’d let it go forever. But, if he really was into it—

Well that was the best-case scenario, wasn’t it?

So, you shifted; nothing crazy and nowhere close to grinding—just a small, flick of the hips that brushed right up against his crotch. Max’s breath hitched and you froze, wondering if you’d truly heard that right, completely distracted from the fact that Abi and Nick were re-entering the car and that Jacob was starting it again, getting ready to head on the road once more.

A hitch of a breath wasn’t enough of a confirmation for you, so you shifted once again, and then again and then again, and this time Max’s hands lifted back up to your hips, grasping for dear life as you settled your ass back down to his crotch, turning your head to watch as his eyes shut tight and he bit his lip.

“Y/n—”

“Do you want to watch part of a movie with me?” You interrupted, watching as Max’s eyes flashed open, a glint of pain underneath them that had you second-guessing what had just happened. Max smiled down at you, though—that brilliant smile that God had blessed him with—and nodded.

You had no idea what you were going to watch, but your fingers worked anyway, hurriedly typing some stupid TikTok compilation that you hoped he wouldn’t get too distracted by. Max laid his chin on your shoulder, his hands that were gripping your waist winding around your front and interlocking as he held you, his face snuggling slightly into your neck.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, your mind reiterated as you slowly breathed out, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you silently prayed that Max couldn’t hear it, and that he couldn’t feel the way that your skin had suddenly heated up and become sweaty. It wasn’t even that cuddling with Max was anything new—as a person, he was a fucking lapdog—but it was the fact that you had never sat on his fucking lap before while cuddling. Never had intentions to turn him on, never gave him this much of a glance down your lowcut shirt—

Y/n, don’t be a pussy, your inner Emma chastised and you shut your eyes tight and sucked in a breath, desperately trying to convince yourself not to go through with this. But damn it—you sort of wanted to and, so far, Max hadn’t shown a single sign that he’d wanted you to sit anywhere else.

It was halfway through the video that you forgot the rest of the people in the car and arched backward without a minute to second guess yourself, pretending to stretch your arms above your head as you knew you were, successfully, letting Max have a perfect show of your black lacy bra underneath your shirt, and under that, the perfectly rounded mounds of breasts that it pushed up.

You heard a sharp inhale and dared a look at his face; he was as white as a ghost, and even his perfectly placed freckles had gone impossibly paler—and yet his eyes, those gorgeously sea-colored orbs, were still staring down your shirt, transfixed, as he studied your figure.

“Alright, everybody out!” Jacob suddenly called out, and the two of you jumped, Max’s eyes meeting yours as he was brought back to reality. His eyes, no longer clouded over with lust, widened and a blush spread unevenly across his face as he realized that he’d been caught watching you. “We’re here!”

“Y/n,” Max breathed out, whipping his arms away from you and running nervous hands through his newly cut hair. “Shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry, I—I wasn’t—I mean I was but…” You smiled as he stuttered along, a giggle framing your mouth and escaping out of your lip, causing Max’s gaze to whip back onto you. You couldn’t help it; he was always so damn cute when he was flustered.

“Does it make it any less creepy if I’m aware that staring down your shirt is creepy?” Max asked, equal parts timid and teasing. You laughed aloud at that, the two of you lingering in the backseat of the car while the rest of the party headed out.

“It’s fine, Max,” you insisted with a shrug and a wink, conveying in every way possible that you weren’t completely innocent here either. “No one wears a bra like this for it not to be seen, sweetheart.”

The words coming out of your mouth shocked even you, and Max’s entire jaw fell open as he stared at you in complete and utter disbelief.

“Whoa, Y/n,” he reared away from you, just to get a better look at your face, testing to see if you were saying what he thought that you were saying. His hands found their way to your waist again and he touched you softly, his thumbs running up and down the curves of your hipbones as he stared in wonder down at you. “Are you saying that you wanted me to—”

“Are you two gonna get out of the car, or do you plan on freezing your little asses off all night?!” Jacob called out as he forced open the trunk of the car, staring in disbelief at the two of you still sitting there. You both jumped, eyes turning to Jacob with guilty blushes, and you didn’t waste another second climbing off of Max and over the seats, pushing your way past Jacob and onto the dirt-clodded driveway.

Taking your bag from your cousin and asking a hurried, “Where’s our cabin again?” You received directions and hurried off in the direction of the cabin that you and Emma were supposed to share, attempting to outrun Max so that he couldn’t question you any further.

What the hell had you been thinking?! You hadn’t, obviously, and you’d let Emma’s skewed opinion get to you. Now, you had to come up with a solution for some serious damage control before Max got to you with his, What’s gotten into you today? And his, Look, I know you must have been kidding, or his I’m sorry Y/n, I’m just not attracted to you that way—

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, throwing open the door to the cabin and chucking your suitcase onto the empty bed. Emma was standing on the other side of the room, facing the bathrooms, but she jumped and turned around when she heard the slam of the front door. “Fuck this whole plan, Emma, and fuck my stupid self too. I can’t believe that I actually let myself believe that Max was really into me and I—holy shit, are you crying?!?”

Emma’s pretty hazel eyes were red-rimmed, but the telltale giveaway that she’d been sobbing was the tear tracks of black mascara spreading down her cheeks and clumping up near her pointy chin.

Once her mind had registered your question, she began sobbing once again, her hands coming up to cover her eyes and you ran to her, throwing your arms around her neck and feeling her own arms go around your waist as she sobbed into your neck heartily.

“Honey, what happened?” You asked, but your voice was muffled by your much taller friend’s collarbone. You pulled away from her and sat her down on her bed, sitting down next to her and taking her hand in yours. “Emma, what did my idiot cousin say to you? You know that big dummy acts completely on emotions, so whatever he said, I’m sure it was just in the heat of the—”

“He meant it,” Emma interrupted you, pulling her hand out of yours and using it to wipe her eyes. “But I don’t even want to talk about it right now, so—tell me what happened with Max.” You opened your mouth to protest but she shot you her “Emma” look—the look that told you that arguing would quite literally be pointless. So, you sighed, letting yourself fall backward onto the bed and groaning as your head hit the awfully lumpy mattress she’d been provided tonight.

“I don’t know what happened, Emma,” you admitted with a whine, feeling her lay down beside you and cuddle her head into yours comfortingly. “It was like I had this sudden, insane boost of confidence and I was like…grinding on him and giving him a full show of my boobs—”

“You do have great boobs—”

“And then when he noticed that I caught him staring at my breasts, I kindofsortofmaybe insinuated that I wanted him to look down my shirt and then he was about to ask me if I really meant that I wanted him to see me naked and then Jacob interrupted us and I freaked out and ran away.”

Emma just stared back at you, blinking occasionally, as if she were really confused.

“Why?” She finally asked, staring down at you in confusion. You blinked back at her, shaking your head bewilderedly.

“Wait, why what?”

“Why did you run away, you fucking dumbass!” Emma insulted, but it was loving and the two of you laughed as she pushed you off the bed and you squealed. “Seriously, Y/n, what the fuck? You ran away? After doing all of that you just ran?”

“I was scared!” You defend your actions with a hiss, pulling yourself up off of the floor and planting down next to her again. “Fuck, Emma, Max is my best friend. I cannot risk freaking him out and losing him, okay? I just…can’t, okay, he means…he means everything to me, Emma, he’s the most important person in the whole world. He’s my best friend.”

“Ouch,” Emma responded, but there was a fond smile on her face and a happy gleam in her eyes as she gazed down at you. “Babes, you know that you’re the most important thing in the world to him too, right? Even if he didn’t feel the same way about you, he wouldn’t let this ruin your friendship. You know that, right?”

You shrugged and looked away from her, playing with your hands as you avoided the question. Did you know that? No, not really. Yeah, the two of you were really close, and yeah, he spent most of his free time with you, but that didn’t mean that this wasn’t something that would freak him out enough to ghost you.

“Shit, if I was going to do something as fucking ridiculous as this, I should have just bit the and told him how I felt,” you finally responded with a sigh, pushing yourself off of the bed and shuffling your feet over the cold, hardwood floor. “But you know, maybe this way, there’s some way that I can play it off?”

“Okay babes, I’m just going to say this once and I’m going to say it outright,” Emma cut you off, standing in front of you and forcing your chin up to look your much taller friend in the eyes. “I know why they broke up, Y/n. The real reason, and if you just fucking ask me I will tell you right here, right now.”

The offer was, obviously, tempting; and two or three years ago you’d probably be a lesser person and taken that offer. As it was, though, you valued Max and his privacy, and if he’d wanted you to know, he would have told you himself.

“No, I don’t want to know,” you insisted, pursing your lips and pulling away from Emma. “It isn’t any of my business, and Max made that abundantly clear by not telling me inthe first place.”

“Of fucking course,” Emma groaned with a shake of her head, rolling her eyes at you and then fixing you with a glare. “The two of you are both so stupid.”

“Gee, thanks Em.” Your words fell flat as you shot her your own sharp look and she gulped, having the common decency to at least look like she felt bad for saying what she did. “Besides, why do you even know the reason Laura dumped him?”

“Laura didn’t dump Max—Max dumped Laura,” Emma clarified and your heart dropped into your stomach. The piece of news, realistically, probably should have made you feel better, but it didn’t. It only made you feel worse, like your heart had been stomped on and used up. Because—if that was true—if Max had dumped Laura—then why had he been so upset that night when he came over to your house? And why the fuck had he lied to you about it?

“What?” You asked, your voice tiny and fragile, and Emma looked back at you, confused.

“Max broke up with Laura,” Emma repeated, and was somehow completely missing the broken, wounded look that was written all over your face. “He dumped her, because he wasn’t in love with her, Y/n, he realized that he was—”

“Emma.”

Jacob’s voice pierced through the air, and the two of you jumped towards the sound, to where your cousin was currently glaring daggers towards your best friend. Emma immediately shut up, shooting you a guilty look as she moved farther away from you and towards Jacob.

“Y/n, can you please give us a moment?” Jacob asked, his throat froggy and having to clear it as he continued staring at Emma. When you saw the raw, heated look pass between them you excused yourself quickly, knowing that whatever feud they were having was about to be made up in tenfold. You forgot to bring your suitcase with you—not even thinking that you’d effectively be kicked out of your cabin for the night—as you ran outside, outside to the nothingness that awaited you.

No, seriously.

There was not a soul out here, Abi and Nick notably missing and Max even nowhere to be seen—not that you even wanted to see him right now anyways. Your heart was barely beating in your chest at the revelation that he’d lied to you—you, supposedly his closest friend—about something that was so huge. Then again, maybe he had no idea how huge it was to you. He didn’t at all, actually, because he had no idea that you were so annoyingly and stupidly in love with him.

“Fuck this day, and fuck everyone else,” you groaned to yourself as you plopped down on a metal bench under a canopy, covering your eyes with your hands as you whined.

“That an invitation?”

Max’s voice sent your blood running cold and you jumped, shocked, turning yourself towards him as he stood slightly behind you, watching you warily. His face was red, but he was smiling at you, and he made his way over and sat at the bench opposite you slowly.

The two of you stared at each other for a while—one of you, optimistically nervous, and the other of you having had your heart shattered into a million little pieces just ten minutes ago. Neither of you said anything, unsure of what exactly you should say, for a long time until finally, Max broke the silence.

“Y/n,” Max spoke, clearing his throat from the nervousness that threatened to choke and overtake him. “About what you said in the car—”

“You lied to me.”

You hadn’t intended for it to come out like that, but there it was, and there was no taking it back now.

Max reared back, astonishment registering across his perfect features.

“I—what?” He shook his head back and forth, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what you were saying. “I lied about—about the car?”

“No Max, not about the fucking car!” You swore, rising from your seat in your anger. Max followed quickly, a gentle hand on your elbow that you quickly ripped out of his grasp. “You lied to me about—about Laura! You told me that she—that she broke up with you, Max! You were heartbroken, you were crying, you lied!”

You thought that there were tears streaming down your face but you couldn’t really tell at the moment. All you could feel was the adrenaline that was being fueled by your anger, and all you could see was the shock that hadn’t left Max’s face since you’d first spoken.

“Who told you that?” Max questioned, and the fact that he wasn’t denying it made you even more upset and you huffed, turning around on one heel and heading towards—fuck, you had absolutely nowhere to go.

“Does it matter?” You answered, turning back around and accepting the fact that the only way you were going to get to be alone was if Max went back to his cabin and left you here and, knowing him, that wasn’t likely to happen. “You lied, Max. And I’m pissed about it. That’s the only thing that you should care about.”

You still hadn’t turned around to face him, so he made his way in front of you instead, placing tentative hands on both of your arms and levelling his face with yours.

“Sweetheart, please look at me.” Fuck; you were weak anytime that Max called you sweetheart and you knew that he knew it, too. Hating yourself just a little bit more for it, you looked up at him, unaware of how your big, sad eyes caused every cell in his body to melt.

“Why did you lie to me?” The question slipped through your lips without your consent and Max sighed, releasing your arms and pressing a hand into your hip so that you couldn’t get away again.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Max answered simply and you reared back, out of his touch, away from his hold, as you scoffed in response.

“You didn’t want to hurt me?” You shrieked, pulling farther away from him and pushing your hands out in front of you to stop him when he tried to reach out for you again. “What the fuck—how the fuck would that have hurt me, Max?”

Max winced, running a nervous hand through his hair, and inspected his surroundings, as if he wished somebody else would come out any minute now.

“Y/n, you are my best friend,” Max pleaded, and you could see the desperation in his eyes but you had no idea why he was so upset. “You know me better than anybody else in this entire world, honey, please—can you give me the benefit of the doubt on this one? Can you let me tell you when I’m ready?”

“No, Max, obviously I cannot do that because obviously it has something to do with me!” You retorted sharply, angry tears burning hot at the corners of your eyes, hotter than normal, devastated tears. “Like—what is going on, Max? I hae this feeling that everybody’s in on this secret, everybody but me—and I should know it, I should know what’s going on with you—”

“Y/n, sweetheart!” Max interrupted again, and this time, he successfully gathered your hands into his. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that I lied—really I am, but—why is it so important to you?” You glared back at him, pulling your hands out of his grasp and beginning to walk away from him. “Why is it such a big deal that I didn’t tell you the whole truth?”

“Because I’m in love with you, you idiot!” You screamed back at him, your body turning back around on its own accord as the screech left your mouth. You both heard the words echo against a canyon somewhere, and you blanched, unaware of what you’d actually said and the weight of them until they hit you in the chest on the reverb.

Max’s mouth had dropped open and he stepped away from you in shock, his hands coming up to frame his cheeks, never making actual physical contact with his face. He stared back at you, his eyes wide and full of wonder, as if he were seeing you for the first time, all over again.

“You’re—” Max gulped, but he took a step closer to you, a smile adorning his freckled cheeks. “You’re in love with me? Really?”

Your heart sunk again when he spoke and you shook your head, backing away from him and pressing two fingers to the bridge of your nose as you suddenly felt an oncoming migraine.

“I’m sorry Max,” you apologized, feeling a bout of nausea spring up in your stomach as you realized that you’d just past the point of no return. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I should have never even said anything—I should have let it go—”

“I broke up with Laura because I’m in love with you.”

The words came out quickly, like Max was afraid that if he hadn’t said them as quickly as he did that he wouldn’t say them at all. You reaction was surprisingly slow compared to everything else you’d done in haste tonight, and you dropped your hands from your face and gazed up at the man in front of you, who was staring back at you with awe.

“W—what?”

“I love you,” Max repeated, taking another step towards you with his light, airy chuckle that you loved so damn much. “And I didn’t tell you that night I broke up with Laura because I thought that you’d think I was lying, or that you were a rebound, and you’re not, Y/n. You’re absolutely not—I’ve loved you for a long enough time that I’m a total asshole for letting it go on with Laura for as long as I did.”

“Then why—why did you—”

“I lied because I didn’t want you to think that any of this was your fault,” Max continued, and he was so close now that his arms were winding around your waist and his forehead was pressed to yours. “I just—I knew, the second I saw you again in that coffee shop, that it was fate. And I lied to myself, hoping that my relationship would just fizzle out on its own and that I wouldn’t have to hurt anyone but—fuck, I would break Laura’s heart a thousand times over if it meant that I might get to be with you in the end,” Max finished, and you were stunned silent, unaware of how to speak anymore.

“Do I—” Max took a sharp inhale of breath and a step back to assess your face. “Do I get you in the end?”

You smiled back at him before pressing your lips so tightly to his, wrapping your body so hard around his own, that the two of you could barely breathe in anything that wasn’t lingering on each other’s bodies.

“You had me,” you answered in between breathless kisses, in between promises, in between hopeful smiles. “You had me at the beginning.”

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the-cannibal · 1 year

Note

I love your writing so much! Can I please request Bo Sinclair (or the sinclair brothers if you’d prefer) with an s/o who is unhealthily obsessed with them? Tysm! I understand if you don’t want to do it and you can completely change the topic to whatever you’d like or not do it !

Awww thank you so much! That means a lot to me! This prompt is so interesting I’ve been thinking about it all morning and I’m so excited to do it for you! Thanks for being the first person to request something, I hope you like it!

Bo Sinclair X Reader who is unhealthy obsessed with him

Gender neutral reader - they/them and you is used

Written on mobile so sorry if the format is weird

You had known the Sinclair’s practically your whole life. The brothers were your best friends. You did everything together, you’d sneak off to each others homes to play, eat lunch together and skip classes in grade school. But there was one Sinclair you were closer to.

Bo. Ever since the first time you met Bo you had a special bond with him. You would always want to hang out with him. Lester wants to play tag? Can Bo come along? Vincent wants to show you how to draw? Well how about Bo join in too!

Bo didn’t think much of your… Clinginess. You were his best friend, so it made sense why you wanted to be around him so much. In fact, he actually quite liked how clingy you were to him. It was no secret after all that his parents were good to him, which is why the two of you usually hung out at your house or outside somewhere. So the fact that someone wanted his attention, wanted to talk to him and listen to him, he adored it.

But you didn’t just “want” Bo. You craved him. You always felt a special way towards Bo. When you were little you didn’t know what those feelings were. It wasn’t until you were a teen you realized you were in love with him. So you began showing Bo your love. You’d bake him his favorite sweets and cook him meals, you’d help him with cars, you’d bandage up his wrists when he had been picking at them and making them raw and irritated. And when his mama got sick you were there to listen to him vent about all the things he was feeling and what was running through his mind. Despite the fact you hated his parents for what they did to him and his brothers, you’d never talk bad about Trudy. You knew Bo had a complicated relationship with her and somewhere deep down in him he still loved her, even though she didn’t feel the slightest bit the same for him. Her world was Vincent. Bo and Lester were just extras she had to “put up with”.

And then Bo killed his father.

Bo would always tell you that his dad committed suicide. That the death of his wife drove him mad. But you knew the truth. You saw it after all.

You were going over to bring Bo a box of old car parts you had stolen found for him, when walking past the window to Victors office, you saw Bo holding up his shotgun and pointing it at the man. You saw him pull the trigger, and Victors blood and brain splatter on the window. The sight made you smile, you were proud of Bo for standing up to that sick son of a bitch and putting an end to everything once and for all. But you couldn’t tell Bo that, so instead you turned back to your home and pretended like you saw nothing. The box of car parts helped cheer Bo up after his fathers “suicide”.

A few years later and the two of you were adults now, and you had finally won Bo over. He was officially yours now and yours only. You moved into Ambrose relatively soon. The town had always been small, but you had began noticing it was getting smaller. And then one day you saw a group of people roll into town, claiming something was wrong with their car. Bo being the kind man he is offered to help them, and told them to go to the house of wax to keep themselves entertained while they waited.

“Darlin can you help me for a sec?” His sweet voiced called out to you.

“Of course, Bo! Whatcha need?” You skipped over to him with a smile.

“Well it looks like they have a broken fan belt, problem is that I don’t have the right size here. Could you go into town with Lester and get one for me?”

You nodded with a smile. And he smiled back down at you. “Thank you, darlin, I appreciate it.” Bo wrote down what he needed on a piece of scrap paper and sent you on your way. You were happy to help Bo, and you got to hang out with Lester! That was a bonus!

When you got back to town with the part you noticed those peoples car was gone, and so was Bo. So you knocked on the basement door to ask Vinny if he had seen them. He shook his head and you thanked him with a smile, turning to walk away but stopping midway. “By the way, those are some neat sculptures you got down there. Trying to keep up with your ma’s art?” You asked with a sweet smile. Vincent nodded. “Ah, I see. Well you did a great job as always! It almost looks real.”

And that was when you found out the brothers had been killing off the town one by one and anyone who crossed in it. You found the pit soon after that, or well, you smelled it. But best of all, Bo thought you were completely in the dark.

He’d wake up, give his partner a kiss before waving goodbye to them as he went out to get some more muses for his twin. Meanwhile his partner was subtly helping him out. They’d make sure their partners clothes was clean of any specks of blood, clean the garage extra carefully, and of course give him the biggest sweetest smiles. You had watched Bo do his special little hobby, in fact watching him became a part of your routine. And he suspected nothing.

“Welcome back, honey!” You shouted over your shoulder as you put dinner in the oven. Tonight was your turn to cook. Bo mumbled a hello back to you and slumped on the couch. You frowned, tossing the over mitt onto the counter, and making your way behind him. “Something happen?” You asked with concern.

Bo sighed, rubbing his temples and leaning his head back. “Jus’ been a long day,” He answered. “I’m so exhausted.”

Without needing another word you wrapped your hands around his shoulders and began massaging them, doing your best to work out some knots. Bo melted into your touch with a sigh. “You always now exactly how I like to relax.” You hummed with a giggle. “I know a lot about you, Beauregard. A lot more than you think.”

“Is that right?” He spoke. “Alright smarty, what else do you know about me?”

You hummed in thought. “Well, I know despite all the blue you wear your favorite color is actually green.”

Bo snorted. “You know my favorite color? Big deal, that’s too easy.”

“I’m not finished,” you spoke, moving your hands to lightly massage his scalp and temples. “You don’t like any green. You like a darker green, like a fir tree. You also hate neon colors because they hurt your eyes.”

Bo simply hummed in response. He was slightly impressed, he’ll admit.

“But I also know things about you that even you yourself doesn’t know.” You said, getting Bo’s attention and making him perk up. You swung around the couch and lightly kissed him on the nose. “Like you ain’t as sneaky as you think.”

Bo chuckled and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into his lap and covering your neck in kisses. “What’s that supposed to mean? You know where I hid your birthday present or somethin?”

You giggled and shrugged. “Maybe,” Your moment was interrupted by the over timer. You got up and took the dinner out and looked back at Bo. “I think ill take some of this to Ms. Locket , if you don’t mind.”

Bo’s face twisted to a sad pout, a very fake one. Oh how he’s never been good at faking emotions, other than a charming southern man. “Didn’t y’a hear? She passed away this mornin.”

You frowned, slowly setting the food onto the counter and looking down. “Oh…” you mumbled. “She was so sweet…”

“Oh darlin, come here.” Bo held his arms out and took you in, holding you close. You buried your head into his shoulder and could smell gun powder. “I know it’s sad, but you’ll get through it. I know you will.”

You hummed and smiled, gripping your hands around Bo tightly. Around your Bo. Yours and yours alone. He might not know just how enamored you are by him, but that’s okay. Because you know, and that’s all that matters.

#bo sinclair #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #house of wax x reader #bo sinclair x reader #request #Bo Sinclair request

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nalyra-dreaming · 5 months

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is that restaurant photo the only reason people started this rumour about Justin Kirk being Marisu? because it's kind of weird to me.. was there anything else? First of all in that restaurant photo that person does not look like Justin to me at all... and also why would he even be there? we are still on "Interview with the vampire" storyline in season 2 so 99% Marius would not be in the show or filming yet at all... and yes I know they can sprinkle in stuff from other books but i don't think they would bring in character like Marius and introduce him in "IWTV" season for one or two shots only... and he would be already so close with the cast he's going out with them?

All of this is such reaching lol and it makes no sense...

Mhhh. I have to disagree.

It does make sense, and I believe that it is far from reaching given the leaked posters etc. 🤷🏽‍♀️

And yes, there was more. So let's recap, shall we? :))

I think there was this post a while back, that kicked the rumor off. Somewhere there was more, wrt him mentioning that if the show gets it's seasons he would come back in season 4 and 5, I talked about it here, but seem to have not tagged it (sorry). There were various posters from Prague mentioning him (or his name):

And then there was this blurry photo I reblogged earlier, and to me that does look like him in makeup.

*shrugs*

We will see.

He definitely has the range and the props to do Marius justice, and I do think he would be a fantastic one - he does carry that arrogant patrician air if he wants to, totally apart from his acting skills, which are immense.

Now, wrt to your question as to why he would be there....

Marius has been mentioned already in season ONE. In book canon Armand being able to stand the sun but Louis cannot places us in a very specific time frame. Armand is on the phone to someone (not using his mind gift), one of Marius' paintings hangs in the apartment and the "prime minister", a title Marius has in the later books, has been mentioned. We know they are taking from Prince Lestat and Blood Communion at the very least.

Marius is, as his maker, a big part of Armand's backstory, and we know that some of the flashbacks in season two will be to the 1790s... so they have to be from Armand's POV.

Marius also had a big part in the backstory Lestat has already mentioned, with Those Who Must Be Kept. Depending on what that groan in Dubai basement is... he might be very close, actually.

The show does not follow the books, at least not too closely, apart from reaching the emotional story points and using the beautiful prose and the emotional... carnage. They are taking from other books already, Rolin Jones has held 6? 7? books up to the camera to indicate what they're using.

The show being called "Interview with the vampire" is imho a concession to the "Vampire Chronicles" being too close to "Vampire Diaries"... and of course honoring the format, but it does not mean they are restricting themselves to the content of the first book, in fact they have already said that they used things from The Vampire Lestat and The Vampire Armand for the second season, because the content needed to be expanded.

All that has been mentioned in interviews again and again, and so it is very far from reaching imho, to expect Marius to show up.

And, I mean... I go out with my clients at work, too? Especially if you know that you will work with them again that's something that's actually a good idea. I've done that very often myself.

(Also… Assad and Sam did that too? 😅)

#Anonymous #asks #ask nalyra #justin kirk #marius de romanus #I do not understand why this riles people up?#this rumor has been out there for months #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire #rolin jones #iwtv s2

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hyprfixate · 1 year

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hold on tight ↝ [L.F.] :: part one

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: you're unhappy. you're almost certain that there isn't anything in this world that can make you happier, and you're right. what you don't account for, however, is something otherworldly flipping your life on its head. or, should you say someone

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ pairing: lee felix x (she/her) reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 3.3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tags: angst, non idol au, fantasy au kind of, felix is an angel literally and figuratively, mentions of suicidal thoughts without going into detail, reader is depressed, she/her pronouns used for the reader, slowburn, strangers to lovers, putting angst again bc thats how much angst there is.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ author’s note: i wanted to post the whole fic at once but college + adhd + eds = no writing time :(. so here’s part one! i hope you guys enjoy it <3

(ignore formatting mistakes i beg </3)

You open your eyes to find yourself, of all places, in an elevator.

You’re not exactly sure where you expected to be, but an elevator was definitely not in the realm of possibilities.

“Um… hello?”

As expected, no one answers you.

The elevator is moving, though, and it dings with each floor that it passes. Your eyes nearly bulge from your head when you see there are 4,000 floors this elevator can go to, and you’re only on the fourth at the moment. With a sigh, you slump against the wall and prepare for the long ride ahead of you.

“Great,” you mumble to yourself. “Just another place to be stuck in.”

Your pessimism is one of your worst qualities, you think. While there is very little about you that you would deem “good”, your pessimism seemed to be the overarching issue, not only for you but for those around you.

The dinging of the elevator grows bleary, and as you pull up to the 10th floor, the ding sounds more like the low groan of a dying man. The doors part slowly, and you come face to face with what looks like a waiting room.

Is this some kind of joke?

A plaque on the wall reads “Purgatory”, and just under that plaque is a plentiful head of sandy brown hair. The owner of the head looks up with a grin, and you’re nearly mesmerized by his beauty. Perfectly sculpted features on the most symmetrical face you’ve ever seen, with freckles littering his face and cheeks like flecks of gold in the sand. To add to his otherworldly good looks, his body is outlined in a pale gold, flickering like the flame of a candle. Your eyes roam his body for identification, but the name tag on his shirt is too far for you to read. You continue to hold his gaze as the grin on his face falters.

“Um. Hi?”

Collecting himself, he clears his throat, shuffling with papers on his desk. “Hi,” he manages out. “My name is Felix, welcome to purgatory. Can I get your name please?”

Your name comes out in a voice just above a whisper, and he hurriedly types it into his computer. The room is silent while you wait,and you notice he’s purposefully avoiding your gaze. The awkward energy in the room comes to its peak when after a moment, his thick eyebrows mesh together in confusion.

“Sorry, could you repeat your name for me? I may have misheard you.”

You nod, repeating and even taking the time to spell it out, letter by letter. Felix’s face is still scrunched in confusion as he mutters the letters back to himself under his breath. Moments pass, and the confused look does not leave his face.

“Do you… have another name by chance? A birth name?”

“No,” you say carefully. “I’m not adopted or anything.”

“That’s.. weird,” he mutters. “Your name isn’t coming up in the system for some reason.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “What do you mean?”

Felix reaches over to the front of the desk, grabbing the phone off of the receiver and holding it between his ear and shoulder. “Everyone gets a death report,” he explains as he punches in some numbers. “It details which part of the building you go to, how long you have to stay in this department, the people you left behind— all the technical stuff. For some reason yours isn’t coming up.”

He holds up one finger as the person on the other line answers, turning away and talking in harsh whispers.

There’s a feeling of anxiety brewing in your stomach as he talks, and you feel like you could throw up.

Felix’s conversation wraps up quickly, with a satisfying clack once he puts the phone back on the receiver. “Guy will be down in a second,” he says. The soft smile is back on his face as he gestures to a plastic chair nearby. “Please, have a seat.”

You nod wordlessly as you make your way to the decrepit looking chair. There’s a sneaking suspicion in your brain as to why your report won't come up, and you hope to all powers above that you’re wrong.

You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your pounding heart as you wait for Guy to come down here and explain what’s going on. From the corner of your eye you see Felix sneaking glances at you, scribbling furiously in a notebook as he does. The glow around his body is growing brighter, almost blinding you. You’re about to mention it when the ding of the elevator catches your attention.

Both of you turn your attention to the entrance of the office, watching as a couple walks in, hand and hand. They smell like fire and burning rubber, and judging from the bright red mark across the girl’s throat, a car accident did them in. Felix sneaks one more glance at you before putting away his pen and turning back on his customer-service smile, asking the couple the same questions he asked you a moment before.

Unsurprisingly, their reports show up as expected. Felix prints them out and says comforting words to the couple, sliding a box of tissues to them when the girl starts to weep. He points them in the direction of a grand staircase before wishing them well. As they disappear up the stairs, you notice a pair of feet coming in the opposite direction.

“Oh! There’s Guy. He’ll sort this all out.” Felix’s customer service grin is back on his face, but you notice apprehension and questioning in his eyes.

Guy steps into the room, and you’re immediately overwhelmed by his presence. He’s absolutely massive, and his face glows so bright you can barely make out his features. All you see are his eyebrows, mouth, and nose. He rests the file folder he was holding on the front desk, leaning forward with ease.

“Hey,” he says. “You called, Lixie?”

The brunette nods, gesturing in your direction and introducing you. “Uh, she came in earlier, I took her name, but nothing came up. I think something’s wrong with the computer.”

“That’s… interesting.” Guy turns towards you, eyebrows raised. “Hey there. Can I get your name?”

You tell him your name, spelling it out for him the same way you did for Felix. He nods quietly and opens the file folder, flipping through documents quickly. The anxious pit in your stomach grows with each passing second, and it’s taking everything in you not to throw up right then and there.

He reaches the end of the folder, confusion appearing on his otherwise blank face. He leans over the counter and turns the computer monitor towards himself, typing in your name and clicking around several times.

“See,” Felix says, his large eyes peering up at Guy. “Nothing.”

Guy stands up to his full height, placing his hands on his hips and sighing. He shakes his head and lets out a huff of air that sounds almost like a laugh. Felix’s big brown eyes never leave his face, even when Guy picks up his manilla folder and tilts his head in the direction of the staircase.

“You two, please follow me.”

It’s obvious from the way his eyes go wide and sparkly that Felix has never been in Guy’s office before. He bubbles with childlike curiosity as he looks at the books on the shelves, taking time to read their titles and inspect their binding while Guy scours through his desk for– well, you’re not sure what he’s looking for. You assume it’s important though, as he’s mumbling to himself as he searches (you swear you hear a few expletives come from his mouth as he does). After a minute or two, he produces a much older looking manilla folder. This one is stained with who-knows-what, and it’s covered in dust particles and stray pen scribbles. He tosses the folder onto his desk with an exasperated sigh.

Seemingly only now remembering that you two are there, Guy gestures to the loveseat next to his desk. “Sorry! Please, take a seat.”

The two of you shuffle over silently. Felix sits at the edge of the couch, hugging a throw pillow to his chest.

You tuck your hands between your knees, seeking warmth and comfort. You’re tired and extremely confused– for the most part. Though you’re almost certain why you’re here, you still have a lot of questions about what the front desk worker, Felix, has to do with any of this.

Guy looks over at the two of you, and you can see his lips are curled into a small, soft smile. “There is really no easy way for me to explain this,” he starts. He reaches a hand up, and you assume he’s running it through his hair. “I guess I’ll start from the end and go backwards. You two can’t stay here.”

Your eyebrow quips upwards, but Felix makes a face that looks like he’s just been kicked out onto the street. You suppose that really is the case.

The brunet next to you stutters and his voice shakes. He’s confused, rightfully so, but you keep your eyes pinned to the floor in front of you. Guy simply holds up a hand and pleads with Felix to let him finish.

“Felix,” he continues. “Have you ever noticed that you’re surrounded by a–”

“Gold outline?”

They finish their sentences at the same time, and Guy nods. “It’s a rare phenomenon. Extremely rare. I’m sure before today you’ve never seen anyone else with one.”

Your attention peaks at that, and you glance up. You’re about to ask who else has one, when you catch sight of yourself in the reflection of the window behind Guy’s desk. You look the same way you remember, but you’re surrounded by bright, flickering gold light. It shines around you like sparklers on the fourth of July, the same way you noticed Felix’s did when you were downstairs in the lobby.

Felix meets your gaze in the window and nods. “What does it mean?”

“Well… For you–” Guy’s attention shifts to your direction, “- for you it’s a sign that you’re here before your time. You shouldn’t be here yet. You shouldn’t be dead yet.”

The anxious pit in your stomach widens and swallows you whole.

You barely register Guy’s explanation to Felix of what he means. Panic engulfs your senses and you’re trying your hardest to hold it together. You don’t want to cry in the afterlife (betweenlife?), you did enough of that when you were fully living.

Of course, you think. Of course you’re here before you need to be. That would just be your luck right? Despite the months it took to gather the courage to take that final plunge into darkness, you’ve still somehow made a mistake– one that seems to take more than just a quick fix.

You notice, through your spiraling thoughts, that the voices around you have stopped talking. You lookup and notice Felix’s eyes are on you. His expression reads pity, and you scowl, annoyed by the thoughts you think are running through his mind. You turn your attention back to Guy, and you’re grateful that you can’t make out his eyes.

“Are you alright?”

You nod. “Sorry. I must have zoned out.”

Guy nods slightly, knowingly, but he chooses to continue with his speech rather than to dwell on it. You dig your nails into the palm of your hand and force yourself to keep focused. Felix swallows thickly and decides to turn his attention away from you.

“Where was I?” He rubs his hands together in thought, clapping softly when he gets back on track. “Right. Now, while that might be the case for her and for other people, you glow for a different reason, Felix. Almost the opposite, actually.”

It’s Felix’s turn to look confused and anxious. He rubs his hands against his thighs. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

Guy slides the dusty old folder to the edge of his desk as an invitation for Felix to take it. He reaches over for it, and with wide eyes he notices his name stamped on the top right corner.

“You’re very special, Felix,” Guy continues. “Everyone who works here was alive at some point, except for you. You’re what we call a wandering spirit.”

You glance over at Felix, who’s brown eyes are vacant as he peels through the file. “What… what does that mean?”

“It means that you have a purpose, a very specific purpose on Earth, but your spirit was born before its time. That’s why you’ve been here for so long. Your job here at purgatory was busy work, just a time passer until the day you’re needed on Earth. And it seems like that day is today.”

Guy lets out a long, watery breath. “Felix Lee, I would like to formally introduce you to your guardian angel assignment.”

“Guardian angel?”

You blink curiously. “I’m confused.”

“Well. His job is to watch over you, protect you, keep you out of harm’s way.”

“I get that,” you mumble. “But why does all of that matter if…”

You trail off in the middle of your sentence. Realization rears its ugly head like an unwanted pimple, and you freeze on the spot.

Guy doesn’t even get the first letter of your name out of his mouth before you’re disagreeing, anger and fear taking over your actions like a wounded stray animal. You’ve managed to propel yourself halfway across the room before you even realize what’s going on.

“I’m not going back,” you cry, anxious hands wringing together feverishly. You avoid Felix’s gaze, trying to keep your focus on the massive man seated behind the desk. His mostly featureless face looks surprised at your outburst.

“Wait, what? What’s going on?” Felix quips. His big brown eyes shift between you and Guy as though he’s watching a ping-pong match.

Guy sighs. “Felix, your assignment is to go to Earth and watch over her. Make sure that she doesn’t…”

“Doesn’t… what?”

“Kill myself,” you deadpan. He whips his head in your direction. “You’re coming to Earth to make sure I don’t kill myself.”

Said “guardian angel” drops the folder in his hands, sheets of paper fluttering down to the floor. His ears are beginning to grow red, and he mumbles apologies as he makes quick work of gathering what’s fallen to the floor. When he sits up again, he looks directly at you. His eyes are wide and his lips have flattened into a thin line. Felix stares holes into your face, a myriad of questions swimming in the back of his mind. He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but he closes it again.

“I’m sorry,” Guy says. You can’t tell who he’s talking to. “I know this is sudden, I know that this isn’t what you, either of you, expected or even wanted.” His gaze settles on you before he continues. “But you don’t belong here. Not yet. There’s so much more for you to learn about and discover.”

You shake your head furiously. “No.” Your voice comes out stronger than it feels. “No, I can’t go back. I don’t want to.”

There’s sympathy on Guy’s face, but he isn’t wavering. “I’m sorry.”

Felix has remained silent, staring at the ground in front of him with an alarming amount of focus. His hands are clasped together over the folder in his lap, but his leg is bouncing at an incredible speed. For a moment, you imagine the panic going through his mind: he’s being forced to leave the only home he’s ever known to play babysitter to someone who doesn’t even want to be alive. His problems take a back seat in your mind as you mull over that last part.

Someone who doesn’t even want to be alive.

Guy is speaking again, this time to Felix. You can’t find it in you to listen, or even pretend to be listening. Your mind is swimming with thoughts, memories of your life and everything that led up to this moment. You’re shaking, knees wobbly and trembling as you realize that you’re once again destined to be stuck in a situation you don’t want to be in. Your eyes dart around the room and you begin looking for an out; a window, an air vent— if it came to it you’d close your eyes and pretend that you weren’t even there.

Guy stands up and begins walking in your direction. You inch closer and closer to the corner, only for him to walk right past you. You notice that there’s a small, unassuming door in the wall behind you.

“There’s really no time for any more questions,” he murmurs. “I have to get you two back to Earth where you belong.”

“Wait…”

Felix’s voice is hoarse with trepidation. He’s still staring at the ground, body slightly trembling as he gathers up all his fleeting thoughts in attempts to make a coherent sentence. “I don’t… I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Everything you need is in that folder, Felix.” Guy’s booming voice has an edge of softness to it, the kind of fondness only achievable by a parent. “I know you can do this. Both of you. Everything is going to be okay.”

Guy reaches a massive hand towards the doorknob. He’s shaking a bit himself, and you imagine he’s feeling nervous about sending Felix away from the only home he’s ever known. From what you’ve gathered, Felix is the only one who’s been here as long as he has. He must feel like a son to Guy, and now he has to watch his son leave the safety of their home for the first time.

The door in the wall opens, and a bright light floods your senses. You squint from the corner you’re huddled in. There are tears streaming down your face, and it is taking every ounce of your control not to begin screaming and throwing yourself around on the floor. Guy turns around, motioning for you and Felix to come to the door.

“This passageway will take you back in time by a few days,” he says. “From there, it’s all in your hands.”

He looks over at you, calling your name softly. “It’s okay,” he says. “You can do this. You can go back. You won’t be alone.”

Against your better judgement, you look over at Felix, whose freckled face is also littered with tears. His big, brown eyes are still downcast, but sensing your gaze he glances up and gives you the smallest smile. He scrubs his cheeks with the back of his hand before he reaches out to you. “We can do it,” he whispers.

There’s desperation in his voice the next time he speaks. “Please. Let me do this.”

Only hesitating slightly, you uncurl yourself from the corner of the room and take a step towards Felix. He closes the gap between you two, slipping his long, slender fingers in your grasp. He gives your hand a squeeze, then looks up at Guy. They stare at each other for a moment before Guy steps out of the way, allowing space for you and Felix to walk through the door.

Felix takes the first step, letting the hand connected to yours stay behind him. Your feet feel heavy, but you allow yourself to get pulled a bit. With one final watery sigh, you follow him into the white light. It swallows both of you whole, and you feel both weightless and weighed down at the same time. Felix’s hand seems to disappear from your grasp, and before you can fully register it, you feel yourself falling from a great height.

#lee felix x reader #lee yongbok x reader #lee felix x you #stray kids #stray kids fic #skz feliz #skz x reader #skz x you #lee felix fanfic #lee felix #lee yongbok #stray kids felix #skz fic #hyprfics #felix fic

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littleladymab · 3 months

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OC in 15

HELLO NEW TAG GAME tagged by @wintherlywords thank you!

Rules: Share 15 lines of dialogue from an OC that capture their character, personality, or vibe. Bonus points for using dialogue without other scene details, but you’re free to include those as well!

Sorry for any of the formatting looking funky I gotta run but wanted to get this up before heading off to gaming!

I'm doing this for Best Girl Ayn Starling -- it's a combination of stuff from her POV, her texts, the blog she writes, and from other character's POV

Please consider this an open tag!

“What makes you think I know?” Both Ming and Carmel give me A Look, and I release a sigh and an overly dramatic shrug. “Okay, so, I do, but I don’t like that you automatically assume that I do.”

If it’s a come-on, he’s getting docked for such an obvious line. He is handsome though, in a sort of I played Hamlet in a college production sort of way, with dark, artfully styled hair, amber eyes that look like they could use another dose of caffeine, and tinted glasses perched on a broad, flat nose. Not to mention, he’s somehow managing to pull off all black without making it look weird, even though his natural tan speaks of an indoor pallor. Oh, yeah, he’s definitely the type to hold a skull and Alas, poor Yorick me. It’s fine, I could be into it.

I would be that person in the library until they have to drag me out kicking and screaming. Silently, of course, because it’s still a library.

From: Ayn Starling I understand that, but I’m also going to ask that you respect me as a person and consider, maybe, answering me properly. From: Ayn Starling Maybe not now, and not about this, but at one point. From: Ayn Starling I’ll let you decide what to do about Zone because you’re right, he isn’t my concern. From: Ayn Starling Everything else is up to you.

“Christ, I hope that there’s not more than one Jonas Quinn.”

“I turned thirteen and you gave me some of your whiskey. You told her that you thought it would be funny.”

And, with equal angelic poise, Ayn answers, “Of course not. I don’t think you peg many women.”

“Holy shit, Lysander, she made me do them until I left the house. I know she had her own plans for you when you lived with us, trying to clean you up and turn you into a functioning member of society and all that, but I was being groomed to be a miniature version of her. She was probably secretly arranging a marriage between one of my father’s coworker’s sons or something.”

My fellow citizens: We speak for those who cannot. The voice of the hallows and haunts. The voice of the abandoned, the lost, the forgotten — all hope abandon ye who enter here. We will not be silenced. We will not be cowed, corralled, cornered.

“Someone is calling out ALICE — specifically, the Program Manager — on their approach to the game,” Ayn adds. She turns to Fletcher, eager, since he understood her reference. “We were promised a way out of this city, right? Then why play a game when they should be that benevolent being and let us go without having to participate in their missions?”

“I thought...” The fingers of her free hand drum over the ceramic surface of the mug, revealing the logo in flashes. “I thought that I could be good enough for you this time.”

“Do you think what we’re doing is even worth it?” Her hand lifts and gestures to the shop around us — to the rest of Eminence. “Meliora. This is beyond you and me, I think. We never... We are two different shapes that tried to fit together.”

“I thought it was obvious, Darling,” she says with a pretty smile that is altogether very sweet and dangerous. “I want the people of Eminence to start fighting back.”

“I’m mad because we’re still fighting. Are you angry because I’m not wearing any pants?”

Having chosen to participate in Meliora has proven to ALICE, to Patrick Mercer, to everyone reading this blog, that you were worthy. Not only of the truth or a way out, but worthy of being able to make your own choices. You made the right decision, whatever it was. No matter what has happened over these past few months, never, ever, regret that.

#sine die #a lil miss original #lil miss writings #tag game #writeblr

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raitrolling · 4 months

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Cursed Drabble meta post because i cant help myself sometimes

while i dont think i nailed the vibe for the tumblr reader x celebrity self-insert fan fiction (mainly because i just Could not get through a single fic without dying of cringe. im sorry i do not vibe with this genre in the slightest for reasons that are probably evident in how i wrote that fic) and its probably more wattpad / quotev fanfic tier, i think i did pull off the standard tropes for those sorts of fics

like how the self-insert is supposed to be a blank slate for anyone to, well. self-insert into, but they're always very obviously written to be (cis) women. and the author can't decide if they want their self-insert to be meek and easily smitten, or sassy and genre-aware, as well as simultaneously living the fantasy of having a glamorous lifestyle that people would be jealous of, but she's also totally just an ordinary girl you guys. see, she's got average looks!

and also the combination of fulfilling the fantasy of 'what if my dream man saved me from a scary situation like gross dudes hitting on me', and the fact that the love interest is... often not written that much better than the bad guys lmao. the 'i saw you from across the room and immediately fell in love and wanted to protect you because you are so beautiful' seems to be popular in self-insert fics from what i skimmed through, but a lot of the time the dudes always come across as creepy to me. but in this fic sharle is using french terms of endearment so clearly he is sexy and romantic and not also a weird sleaze, duh

i died the most writing every single piece of sharle's dialogue but also the descriptions talking about how hot he is, btw. the line about the reader imagining his hands choking someone and them smelling his intoxicating scent in his bedsheets both made me want to hurl LMFAO props to people who can write that shit, id rather swan dive off a cliff thanks (tho the hand focus is also due to me listening to that read-through of the foxhole court and the video essayist mentioning how often the characters in that story grabbed each other by the chin. i was just like 'ok yeah i need more hand stuff in this people eat that shit up')

the warnings at the start are there solely because when i was scrolling through the tumblr tags for reader self-inserts i saw quite a few that warned for swearing which i thought was funny since like. this is a 13+ website. you can say the fuck word here and not get in trouble. apart from the cringy dialogue i wouldnt say anything in the fic actually merits a warning, but i felt like i needed to add the other stuff to keep it true to the formatting style that is common for tumblr self-insert fic

the bit with ropikk at the end definitely breaks the illusion and probably turns the fic into some 'lol well that just happened' marvel '''humour''', but tbh i just wanted to include a 'he would not fucking say that' joke and needed to write a palate cleanse LMAO you can pretend that last paragraph doesn't exist if you dont like the immersion-breaking

anyways uh. this was a lot of words i wrote to explain my stupid drabble i wrote as a joke and because people voted for something cursed. you can't say i half-ass anything lmao

#ooc #i drafted this post last night and its been sitting here waiting to be posted

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xoxo-hazelnut · 11 months

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Introduction

Hiya! This is my account for horny shit, which I think is really cool and good and keep up the good work. My bio and preferences are below the cut

DNI: Minors or those who wish to interact with them. Homophobes, transphobes, anti-SW as well but they're probably gonna interact regardless :/

Alright, with that out of the way, Hi! I'm Hazel (she/her, 21yo). I'm a transfem lesbian (I call myself lesbian for gender reasons but bi/pan with a strong sapphic lean is probably more accurate, if you're not comfy with that I understand) and am pretty kinky sometimes, hence this account.

One of my goals with this space is to make friends/acquaintances around here, so please say hi, I don't bite unless you ask~ DMs/asks are completely open, you're welcome to flirt, tease, request flirts or teasing from me, or anything else you want. I'm happy to do ERP too

Stuff I'm into:

This isn't a comprehensive list, I honestly have very little I'm fully not into seeing, but these are some of the things I really like:

Hypnosis/Mind control, Bondage, Dom/Sub, Cum

Stuff I'm not into:

Pregnancy (I enjoy the silly meme stuff just nothing super descriptive at me please)

This list will likely be updated as I think about more things, but this is what I've got for now. If you're unsure about anything and want to engage with it with me please shoot a DM first.

Tags I use:

I'm sorta working out a tagging system as I go so this one will also undergo updates probably. I'll try to go back and retag posts I've already reblogged when new ones come up, but sorry if I miss something.

#hornt - I use this one for a personal collection of pornographic (or otherwise unchaste) content.

#horny (txt/img/vid/gif/art) - in conjunction with the previous, to specify format for better searching. Formats are text/photo/video/gif/drawn art.

#my txt - Specifically text that I've written. Other formats may be added.

I don't expect these ones to be particularly common but I'd rather keep it safe for anybody who doesn't want to see this sorta content if and when I reblog it (I don't condone such behaviour irl, but sexual fantasies can be weird so here we are), so here are some more serious tags:

#warning - A more general tag for any content I'd consider worth warning about, to be used in addition to the following

In addition to the above, the tags #consent warning is for situations where consent is dubious (or actively avoided) and #violence warning for situations where threats of violence are made or acted upon.

But uh, yeah that should be it, thanks for reading all the way and I hope you enjoy what I have here <3

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48787 · 4 months

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I've obviously been leaning REALLY hard into the Decepticon theming as of late, considering either renaming my blog or creating a new one.

Probably not going to change much, "Hedonistic Gamer Pile" is fairly accurate, relatively unique, and has a certain amount of reverence to me now

However the allure of "Decepticon High Command" is always there, despite the fact that it's probably not unique. But it doesn't need to be, I suppose.

I don't know, maybe once I start writing a bit faster (Coinciding with an improved text editor. I love you obsidian.md but you're no nvim... But I'll keep you around (Sorry I've been having trouble in paradise with my electronic servants and warriors, my fondness for them blinds my ability to make progress sometimes. They'll all be stored. They'll all be saved.)) I'll probably want to eventually find some method of organizing things beyond just tags, but I'm certainly not ready to have a blog in a traditional sense yet.

I still don't know how this website works and don't think I ever will, so advice is helpful but not necessary. Posts will happen regardless, it's just a question of whether they're formatted for anyone other than me. I'm half considering literally just uploading .md files and refusing to care how they look on other people's machines. It's a .md file, make it look how you want to look idiot. Something like that at least.

And a part of me never wants to let go of "Hedonistic Gamer Pile" because, like, that's what I'll always be, a Hedonistic Gamer collecting a pile of shit I care about. This shitty little blog I was forced to learn how to love has been pretty nice and I want to do more with it but I also don't know if I want to change the labels. How vexing...

I've been wanting to spruce up my actual blog page, but I don't know if people actually look at those. I happen to find them a little confusing because when I don't know where buttons are I get a little scared and my brain is specially trained to have fight or flight responses shoot off whenever there is even a hint of (unaddressed) context sensitivity

Anyway expect way more Decepticon propaganda soon, whether it be here, on a new blog, or coming to a state/republic/federation near you!! I don't want to be Megatron, you must understand that I simply am Megatron, but not the one you know (regrettably I cannot turn into a gun yet, for one). This isn't a crisis of identity or anything, I just literally have a lot of identities and overlap and play into each other in weird ways. I just am very autistic and don't quite know how or when to show those overlapping identities in a format understandable to anyone but me or someone with a lot of time to parse and translate.

Time is meaningless and you are being deceived, I'll figure everything out in time, but questions comments concerns prayers battle-cries battle-hymns and strategems are appreciated! Might help me do it more efficiently!

#yippie peace through tyranny!!#pretentious wannabe art student posting #god i can't wait till I can create my own personal search algorithm/gallery system for my blog #so many ideas #so so many ideas #i didn't even mention toki moli yet and i don't know if i ever will aside from in very specific contexts #till all are one.

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badassxbirdy · 5 months

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January Activity Update (Pinned Post)

It’s time once again for an activity update! If you’re new here: these posts help me to keep track of what the frick I’ve been doing, particularly when tumblr breaks or the brainfog strikes. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to do a full monthly update, so this one includes posts and drafts for October, November, and December. Everything else can be found in previous monthly updates under this tag. There’s also the full thread tracker here.

The full activity update (along with OOC house keeping) is below the cut. Bold text = links.

If you want to see all IC interactions without the other stuff, click here. If you’d like to start something new, there are opens and memes, or you can just hit up the DM’s. You can also add Ty on Wire for IC texting.

Now onto the update!

Housekeeping:

A couple of little tweaks have been made to the guidelines page. Nothing huge, mainly just an update on formatting in threads and fc’s.

Ty’s Wire is now working again! 🥳 If you didn’t get a reply last time you messaged her, please resend your message. Or just send her a new one/start a new convo if you’d rather. I also have regained access to the discord account. Same username as here so feel free to add me, just let me know who you are if you do. I only log in when I’m here actively working on drafts, so you may still prefer to use the DM’s to chat.

I don’t do this often, but I’m going to be giving my inbox a bit of a reset by deleting most of the unanswered memes. Even though those ones aren’t being posted, thank you for sending them!

I’m getting notifications for old reblogs and things I was tagged in a month ago, a few even longer ago than that. Some are repeated ones that I saw in my activity feed when they were first posted, but some are brand new to me so I’m very confused rn.

In a similar vein, it’s currently hit or miss as to whether I get a notification for being tagged in a post. It also doesn’t always show up in my actual tracked tag. With that being the case, If there is something I haven’t replied to that is not listed in this post, please let me know.

Still in the process of changing up my medication. We’re taking it slowly as I’m coming off one that is notoriously a pain in the neck for withdrawal symptoms. It’s been absolutely kicking my arse, so if I’m slow to respond to ooc messages, please do not feel ignored. I will answer when my brain is not making dialup noises. Thread replies will happen when they happen. I’m trying to put less pressure on myself, but as an anxious human and chronic people pleaser it’s a struggle. 😂

Threads, replies, and other IC interactions:

(In alphabetical order by username.)

@astormymind

Library ghost hunting with Finn (drafted)

@beastbitten

Extreme awkwardness. 😂 (link)

@demcnsinmymind

At the motel (link)

Azzy proved a point (link)

Taking Lance on a hunt (link)

Doing Lance’s hair! 😭 (link)

Mischief at the bar (link)

Car trouble (drafted)

An unwanted visitor, and Ty finds out the boy has powers! 👀 (queued)

@demonstigma

A weird conversation (queued)

@derschwarzeengel

Tyler is not sick. Definitely not. (link)

Damon? Talking about his trauma? It seems miracles do happen. (queued)

Ty finds Vampire!Damon (queued)

Roasting 50 shades (drafted)

“She’s a ghost AND a bitch!” (drafted)

@destroyerscved

“How did you find me?” (link) Sorry for the repost!

Magic bean juice (queued)

@discipulusmaleficus

Abandoned house (drafted)

@hellomynameisfuckyou

A tackle hug for Damsel (link)

@hvbris

A questionable attempt to cheer up Olive (link)

An appointment with Dr Soliman (link)

Meeting the captain (link)

Ty is confused by Wednesday (drafted. Sorry this one slipped through the cracks for so long!)

@imprvdente

Birthday fun (link)

At the motel with FBI!Fish (drafted)

@innerwar

Ty rescues Damon (link)

Being grumpy at Homelander (link)

Babysitting Jude/the Doc (drafted)

Bad jokes with Charm (queued. Sorry this one slipped through the cracks for so long!)

@kxllerblond

“You owe me a dinner. A very nice dinner.” (link)

@loyaltyguided

Birthday cuteness! (link)

@loyaltylanced

“Destiny can’t be changed.” (link)

@magaprima

Demon problems (queued)

Demon problems part 2: electric boogaloo (link)

@nightiingaled

KilliTy cuteness! (link)

Even more KilliTy cuteness! (link)

@tmrrwppl

I just couldn’t resist okay. Don’t question it. 😂 (link)

@vyrulent

Tyler meets Orobus Jones! (drafted)

Headcanon, dash games, and assorted silliness:

ELEVEN YEARS. ❤️ (link)

“Nothing to steal” (link)

Wanted poster dash game (link)

Damon’s birthday gift (link)

Say My Name drabble by Bramble! (link)

Pinterest dash game (link)

Ty’s Christmas mischief! (link)

I think that’s everything! As always: please let me know if I’ve missed something. I never intentionally drop threads without notifying, rest assured that if it’s not here I am either having a brain fart or I simply have not seen it. Remember to be kind to yourselves, and stay safe! ❤️ — Em

#activity update #pinned post

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makiandcheese · 1 year

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Notes in blue ink

Kaeya / Rosaria

tags: childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, domestic fluff, modern au, non-sexual physical touch

a/n: I made this on my phone, so sorry if the format is weird

☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆

summary: Kaeya and Rosaria reminisce on the past that led to their matching rings.

☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆

Once in a blue moon, Kaeya would ask a question that would leave Rosaria stunned. He once asked her about her dream home after her comments about the Ragnvindr household. At first, she thought about it and realized she had nothing to answer. She was particularly interested in interior decor but not so much in the structure itself.

After a few moments of silence, she expressed how she liked big windows that brought the natural light in. Much like the sliding doors in Varka’s home since it brought in warmth, she once took for granted in the orphanage. Rosaria preferred a house that was not too boxy or too geometrically structured, as she states. She expressed how the exterior could also affect her time there.

"I want a nice, warm, kinda gothic home. I don't want plain whites everywhere." She said, leaning on the school garden railing at lunch. "But… to be honest, I don't really care as much."

Kaeya’s eyes rolled. She said she didn't care but stated specifics down to how she wanted the knobs at the drawers would look like. "You literally said a lot of things. Are you worried I’ll judge you, is that it?." he asked. "Come on, lighten up. Plus take this as a… practice question to when you'd get to date someone."

"Sounds like you're trying to coax me to come to another blind date again." Rosaria grinned and traced the specks of sunlight hitting Kaeya's face from the tree above them. "I'm not interested in another one of those events."

"Then," words he kept deep in his veins and arteries slipped out his tongue. "Imagine I'd come to visit your home. What would it look like?"

She turned away from him and traced the same light from the trees from her hands to her fingertips. "Well…" She smiled and stuck her tongue inside her cheek to prevent herself from showing anymore. "You wouldn't be able to guess because you'd come at 10 pm on a Friday with three bottles of alcohol, that's for sure."

"Hey!"

"But… I'd take you to the kitchen, and there'd be some barstools by my kitchen island. We'd share several glasses like how we already do at your place. You'd complain about your family, and I'd complain about the severe consequences of capitalism on Mondstadt." Rosaria's mind was flooded with the thought of Kaeya by her side for years to come. "You'd hand me a glass of something Diluc taught you, and, for some reason, I'd still be more sober than you."

His hands traced the floor plan in the air. Making sure she doesn't turn, he said. "Oh please, there's not a chance in hell you'd have a higher alcohol tolerance than me."

"We'd spend what little time we have together, and I sober myself up before I drive you home." It agonized her to remind him that they were still friends. "Your partner would be angry at me for letting you drink so much on a weekend."

Kaeya’s lips bled internally, hearing her say those words. He would stay by her side on her soft carpet by the sofa if he had the chance. He visualized exactly what their typical day would look like. He'd lean on her shoulder, and like snow, she'd melt in his. "Do we really have to live that far? I want us to be neighbors, in maybe… 20 years?"

"Fine, we'd live right next to each other." Rosaria said, leaning forward so her face wouldn't show how her brows began to wrinkle her forehead. "We'd have those shared fruit trees in the back though. I'll take whatever sunsettias I can."

"It'll be sour. So sour on your side." Kaeya pushed her shoulder. "I'd still give you the sweet ones since you'd probably have the best house pet. I'd come and visit just to see it."

Rosaria turned to him, pointing to herself, raised eyebrow and all, "You're not even going to acknowledge the homeowner? man, fuck you." She pushed him back.

"Yeah because at least it won't be late to class." The bell rang just as he predicted it. "Last one to Mr. Yang's class doesn't wipe their ass when they take a shit!" Taunting her as they both ran back to their building, all the way at the opposite side of the campus.

"You ass!" Rosaria ran to him and was amused at how easily she caught up. "Last one has to pay for cornetto later." Noticing the passing volleyball and basketball joint varsity jog, she rushed through. Leaving Kaeya trying to move past them. She was then blocked by the construction worker's materials stacked by their path.

No matter the obstacle, they still arrived at their classroom seconds before the afternoon prayer. The same old prayer they memorized even if their ears were blocked with their heartbeats and breaths. The same old prayer neither of them cared to listen to.

As they discussed the relevance of historical events per Mr. Yang's guidance, Kaeya noted every architectural detail Rosaria said to his question. He did his best to hide the fact that the subject of his notetaking was taking a light nap from the history instructor. The breeze of a February afternoon filled the room and fluttered the curtains, perfectly hiding the sleeping girl at the farthest back of the class.

Years passed, and he still kept that same old notebook with the same old prayer engraved at the back. Historical notes filled the front, and several pages at the back were what she said. She, too, kept a similar notebook, except it was her personal journal. It told details about how Kaeya looked that day and what he asked. It was brief. A mere paragraph at least, but it was enough to fill her pages with emotions she felt.

Kaeya asked me what house I wanted to live in. To be honest, I really don't care. A roof, no roof, broken walls, tall fences, fancy windows, none of it matters. He just had to be there.

My home Our home.

He also told me that if we're still single by 30, we should get married for the benefits. It was a passing statement, but I really hoped he would stay a loser so I could be by his side when his back begins to crack when he turns 30.

Kaeya shouldn't have read the contents of his wife's journal from 15 years ago. Now, Rosaria has to explain to him that she's really into him since they were young. Enduring his constant teasing was the worst, especially since he has hard, undeniable, written evidence. That doesn't mean she doesn't retaliate. She often stayed by the kitchen and patio she dreamed of whenever he did peek. That night, he decided to corner her in their bedroom. Reminding him of how much he had loved her since they were 16.

"Looks like someone had a huge crush on me." He said, looming over her just before she slept, continuing to bully her under their blankets. "What's wrong? It's not too late to admit it."

"Oh fuck off! You bought our house with my interests in mind. If anything, you have a huge crush on me." The weight of Rosaria's covers grew as Kaeya rested his body on top of her. Feeling pokes and hearing his lips smack over the duvet, she was kissed on her shoulder, chest, and forehead. At least, that's what it felt like for her. "You have a terrible aim." she peeked over and saw him preparing for that moment.

There are times when Rosaria keeps her journal out in the open. If he can egosurf online, there's a high chance he could egosurf his name through her journals. She ensured it was the one where she told him how much she loved him. Rosaria's cheeks were soft and warm, much like her lips. Kaeya couldn't get enough of it. "Whose got a terrible aim now?" he said, wiping her trial lip stain she put on earlier in the morning. "Look at you, so pretty and red. I think this shade is nice on you."

Rosaria mustered all her strength and rolled Kaeya over. Allowing himself to be rolled in the duvet they always shared. "Hmm… I don't think I'd like it when something isn't transfer-proof, but…" She grabbed his cheeks and placed a new coat on her lips. "I guess I won't mind testing this a few more times on my beloved."

"Rosie?" Kaeya's heart began to race, "please, mercy!!" There was no mercy left for him.

Pinned down, receiving many kisses all over his face, ears, neck, and collarbones. It was quite an eventful evening for the two. Hopefully, they remembered to check their calendars. It was the eve of their first wedding anniversary, after all. It's good that Kaeya is oblivious to Rosaria’s intentional revelation of everything she loves about him. Else, she would’ve been drowning in countless words she couldn't have the strength to say out loud.

"Sit still. I can't kiss your lips if you keep laughing and turning your head away from me." Rosaria held onto his soft cheeks. "Now turn this way and let me make up for the 15 years I didn't say it."

"Oh my fucking god. Rosie, I love you, so please spare me." He pleaded through his dimple smile.

"Not a chance."

♡

#rosaria #kaeya #kaeya x rosaria #rosakae #kaerosa #rosaria genshin impact #genshin impact kaeya #kaesaria #rosakae fic #kaerosa fic

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that-darn-clown · 2 years

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idk if this will work, but heres my fic i wrote!!

also sorry if the format is weird i pasted from a google doc lol

play (act one)

[Enter Abigail]

Abigail: Betty! Keep freaking everyone out, I still have that whole grudge thing going on with Proctor.

Betty: Hey Abigail, I know I’m supposed to be all scared of you or whatever, but don’t you think this is a little morally questionable?

Narrator: Betty, that is an understatement.

Abigail: Oh shut it Betty.

[Enter John Proctor]

Abigail: JOHN OH MY GOD I AM STILL SO MUCH IN LOVE WITH YOU

Proctor: Abigail no, please-I don’t wanna get in any more trouble for this again, please for the love of God-

Narrator: Jesus Christ, all these dudes takin my name in vain

Off stage: What?!

Narrator: No, not you son.

[Proctor seems confused, but brushes it off as a coincidence.]

[Betty starts screaming obnoxiously]

Narrator: This is probably a clever ploy to shut Abigail up. I approve.

Tituba: I didn’t do it!

Mrs. Putnam: I THINK IT’S WITCHES.

Parris: YOU GUYS THEY’RE WITCHES.

Narrator: I’m sorry, where in the name of me did that come from?

Tituba: What do you mean witches? I’m literally just a maid. [nervous side glance]

Putnam: But all of my babies died, I have to find a way to make this about me.

Parris: Yeah I still think it’s witches.

Betty: Okay now where’s my mom?

Narrator: She’s with me, you idiot!

[Everyone else is yelling now]

Proctor: Okay I heard it that time, is anyone else hearing that upset omniscient voice?

Narrator: Wait, you can hear me?

Proctor: Yeah, who in God’s name are you?

Narrator: You just said it. Take a wild guess.

Proctor: Am I dead? I didn’t think I’d be talking to you when I died, I expected someone with horns…

Narrator: Pretty sure you’re not dead. And yeah, no guy with horns, just some obnoxious downstairs neighbors.

Proctor: So no one else can hear you, obviously.

Narrator: Of course it’s the adulterous pedophile that can hear me! Obviously not the two reverends in the room. Of course! Why not?!

Proctor: Look dude, that was an accident.

Narrator: I’m sorry what? What, did you slip?!

[Abigail starts screaming “I saw ___ with the devil!!”] Name list: Alice Barrow, Goody Sibber, George Jacobs, Chewbaca, Goody Hawkins, Tom Cruise (START IMPROVISING)

Narrator: Oh Jesus Christ, here we go again.

Off stage: What?!

Narrator: No, not you son.

Proctor: AGAIN?!!

[Curtain falls]

Fic Begins

[Takes place after curtain falls in orig. play]

Proctor is walking back to his house [Immediately after act 1, before act 2.]

Proctor: So… God, is it?

God: Yep, that’s me.

Proctor: Cool cool. So uh, I guess we’re stuck together now?

God: Listen, I have no idea why this is happening. But yes, it seems you can hear me now.

Proctor: Another question, what did you mean by again?

God: Remember when all those people died from dancing? That was mass hysteria. That’s what I mean by again: mass hysteria.

Proctor: Oh Holy S***

God: Could you stop that. It’s like tagging the original poster, unnecessary notifications.

Proctor: So since we’re stuck together I guess that means we should get to know each other. What’s your favorite color?

God: I made them, I don’t really have a favorite. But gold is nice. Ya know the streets and all…

Proctor: Oh yeah. My favorite color’s pink.

God: Really? Didn’t peg you for a pink guy. Cool.

Proctor: Yep. Your turn to ask a question.

God: Alright. What’s your favorite restaurant? Mine is Denny’s.

Proctor: …..HUH

God: oh right you guys don’t have that down there yet….

Time passes, many questions are asked and after a while they get to know each other better

Proctor: Hey one more question, can you hear my thoughts?

God: A little. It’s hard to explain. I can hear small bits. I know that you aren’t in love with your wife. I know that you think you laugh weird. I know about your imposter syndrome.That’s about it right now.

Proctor: Cool, cool. Well, we’re almost home. I’m gonna ask you to kindly shut up around other people because I don’t want to look TOO crazy.

God: Okay, I think I can follow that rule.

Proctor makes it home and greets his wife (NOT ACT TWO… YET)

Proctor: Hey Elizabeth, how’s life?

Elizabeth: If you hadn’t known Abigail my life would be a whole lot better

God: She’s right, you know.

Proctor fighting laughter because God’s funny: Fine Elizabeth, I know you won’t forgive me. Just let me rest tonight.

Proctor retires upstairs

God: Proctor, I think I’ve discovered another teensy weensy problem. I kind of have to do other things in heaven, is there some sort of way to… mute me? I don't want to disturb your sleep.

Proctor: I can handle it, I promise.

God: Suit yourself.

As Proctor goes to bed, God proceeds to speak Enochian while talking with angels.

Proctor: That might be hard to get used to. I might need some accommodations, can y’all at least speak a language that actually exists?

God: Or I could just teach you Enochian.

Procter: …I’d be okay with that.

Following day. Proctor starts going about daily chores (farming bs)

God: Mornin’ sunshine!

Proctor: Oh Jesus you scared me!

Background: What?!

God: No not you son. Sorry I scared you John. Are we on a first name basis now? Is John okay?

John: Yeah that’s okay. Nicer than “Proctor” all the time. Hey who was that in the background?

God: My son.

John: Oh yeah Jesus, makes sense.

Jesus: Dad, stop yelling my name!

God: John, stop saying Jesus all the time. Don’t worry son! Just keep listening to your music. He likes human music, big Slipknot fan.

John: …what?

God: Sorry I keep forgetting. So, John. Do you still want to learn Enochian?

John: Oh yeah! That’s something good to do while planting.

God: Okay well hello generally stays the same, and “God” is “Ascha.” So saying “Hello God” is “Hello Ascha”

John: Huh, okay. That sounds easy so far.

God continues to teach John Enochian while he plants for the following harvest. Before he knows it, he’s done with his chores.

John: Okay so I think I’m starting to get it. Thanks, God!

God: Any time, John. Since we’re stuck together I really want us to be comfortable with each other, and languages are a good place to start.

John /soft blushing/: Oh uh, yeah. Yeah that sounds nice.

God: John I know you blushed, don’t get any ideas. I am literally God, don’t fall in love with me… [/implied “yet”/]

John: I’m not falling in love! It’s just nice, is all. Elizabeth doesn’t care about stuff like that…

God: Really. Huh, well I’m glad I can help, I guess.

John: Thanks, uh. I’m gonna head to town now for some firewood. Please stay as quiet as possible.

God: Trust me, I won’t make a sound.

John is lucky enough to go to town without incident.

God: So what’d ya get me?

John: I don’t even know how I’d get you anything, considering you’re a disembodied voice to me.

God: Offerings exist, ya know.

John: Oh yeah, I could pray or something, would that count?

God: *Sigh* I was kidding, but if you really wanted to yes, that would count.

John: Oh cool. Wait if you can just hear me, then what is praying? I always thought it was just talking to you or your son, but since I can talk to you, is praying more like sending a letter?

God: Yeah, it’s like a text mess… telegra… never mind. It’s like a letter. I can open it later and address it instead of getting it immediately like what we’ve got going on.

John /mildly confused/: Cool.

God and John end the day, John puts up the firewood and talks briefly with Elizabeth. A few weeks go by and act two begins.

Play (act two)

Elizabeth: you're late, what were you doing?

Proctor: UGH nosy woman

God: That’s a little contradictory, considering you were the nosy one with Abigail.

Proctor /muttering/: shut up

Elizabeth: What was that?

Proctor: nothing, sorry. Do you have the soup?

Elizabeth: Yeah, hope it’s good.

Proctor: If it’s good then It’s because I added salt.

Elizabeth: Really?

{Proctor tries the soup]

[Mary Warren enters]

Mary: Hey Lizzie, here's a doll I made.

God: This probably won’t end well.

Proctor: Oh really, maybe if you get into sewing you won't be that big of a jerk to us.

Mary: also like 40 people are accused. Hey Lizzie I saved your life.

Elizabeth: I’m sorry what

Proctor: Jeez Abigail sucks.

Mary: I didn’t even mention her, why would you think it was her that accused Lizzie.

Proctor: She wants to kill her so she can be with me

Elizabeth: Yeah yeah whatever.

[Enter Hale]

Hale: Yo Lizzie that doll is actually proof that you’re hangin’ with satan.

Lizzie: huh?

God: Whoa, that was faster than I thought.

Proctor /whispering/: What do you mean you thought?

God: I’ll tell you later.

Hale: yeah so you’re coming with me Lizzie

Elizabeth: Aw rats

Hale: Also why is your son not baptized and why haven’t you guys gone to church and can you recite the Commandments

Proctor: Uh yeah I know all of them there’s one I’m forgetting though

God: Adultery, John

Proctor: Oh adultery. Yeah that one.

Hale: Here’s a warrant for your wife’s arrest

Proctor: what warrant

[Proctor rips the warrant]

Hale: Dang okay.

Mary: Hey is it cool if I scream about how I can’t testify in court okay I’m gonna take that as a yes.

Everyone but Mary: What

Mary: I CANNOT I CANNOT I CANNOT I CANNOT I CA-

[Everyone leaves including Mary, Proctor is left behind]

Fic Resumes

John: So, God. Can you explain what you mean by “faster than I thought” earlier?

God: Okay, it’s a little complicated John. So what’s happening is I know a little more than you think. I can see a little into the future. I assumed that it would take a little longer for Reverend Hale to get here. That’s all.

John: So you can see the future. Could you tell me about myself?

God /hesitating/: You’re going to live a long time, you won’t be with Elizabeth for much longer, and you’re going to fall in love and be happier than you are now. You won’t have much to worry about in the future, you’ll be taken care of.

John: That seems nice. I think I’m okay with that life.

God /quietly/: me too.

John: Hm?

God: Nothing.

John: O-kay?

God: So, more Enochian? [responding to Proctor nodding] Okay so instead of saying “good morning” you say “balit morning.”

[John and God spend the rest of the night talking, learning Enochian, and bonding]

[End of the night, the sun is beginning to rise]

John: Whoa, it’s morning already! Balit morning, Ascha!

God: Ah yes, Balit Morning, John.

John: I’m finally coming to terms with the fact that I’m stuck with you. It’s really nice. Can I ask about interests? Like what do you do in your free time?

God: John, my free time is spent with you. Technically, you are my interest.

John /LOUD BLUSHING/: Oh. Well, thank you.

God /realizing/: Sorry if that was too forward, it is the truth. On the other hand, I really enjoy fantasy football. I know you don't know what that means.

John: I might not know what it means, but I am willing to listen to you talk if it matters to you. I care about your interests, God.

Ascha: We’re on a first name basis, please call me Ascha. I’m more used to Enochian.

John: Okay. Ascha, tell me more about this “fantasy football.”

Ascha /beginning/: Well football is a sport, and it has teams. There are lots of popular players, and in fantasy football you can pretend to make your own teams using popular players.

John: Okay I understand I think. What is football like?

Ascha /excited/: Oh it’s a lot of fun! There are two teams…

Ascha explains the premise of football to John. John listens intently while completing daily chores.

Ascha: So different players have different strengths and weaknesses, that’s why it’s fun to create fake teams, because you can pretend that the players work together to overcome their weaknesses.

John: That is rather profound for a game, Ascha. I am impressed. Can you explain a little more about the game? Fantasy football, I mean. If it exists that must mean there are other people that enjoy it, how does that work?

Ascha: Well John we use the internet. It’s a… heaven thing. It connects people over long distances through things called computers, and we can share our teams and thoughts and comments on them.

John: Interesting. I guess I’ll become familiar with that when I die. But you said I have a long time to live, so I’ll just have to guess for now!

Ascha /sadly/: Yes John, I suppose so.

John: Alright, do you want to hear about my interests now?

Ascha: What, like adultery?

John: Oh quit, I know you just do that to screw with me. I meant horses.

Ascha: You like horses?

John: How could you not! They’re majestic and strong, you really did a great job with them, they’re much better than humans.

Ascha: Well thank you, although I think I did a pretty good job with humans as well. Especially those like yourself.

John: Do you really mean that? Or are you just starting to grow fond of me in particular.

Ascha: Let’s go back to horses.

John: I feel like you’re dodging something here, but at least I get to talk about horses. So horses have super fast reflexes…

John continues to gush about horses while Ascha listens, despite knowing all about horses (he made them, after all.)

Ascha: So you know that I can see the future. Well in the future there are young children that are often girls that really like horses. They are colloquially referred to as horse girls. You are a horse girl, John.

John: interesting. You know Ascha, I’m very excited to see this future you always talk about.

Ascha: I’m excited for you to see it too, John. I am honored to experience it with you.

Time passes and John and Ascha speak more while completing daily tasks

Play (act three)

[We are in court now. Judge Danforth is big mad.]

Danforth: Yo Mary, so what are you sayin’ ‘bout these girls.

Mary: I’m saying they are totally lying and that I was lying too.

Danforth: man, we should ask those chicks because if that’s true that is so totally wack, yo.

[Abigail and some other ladies come in]

Abigail: I don’t know what Mary said but whatever it is she’s a witch and her spirit is attacking us. Look at how cold we are.

Other girls: Yeah man we’re cold.

Danforth: Okay good evidence, I believe you.

John: Are you kidding me?! I knew Abigail. I know she’s lying.

Ascha: John, are you crazy?! You just admitted to your worst sin. That’s punishable by death John! They won’t take kindly to that.

Abigail: John is right! But he’s also a witch!

[Elizabeth enters suddenly]

Danforth: Oh yeah you’re married to John you know things

Elizabeth: John is totally innocent, I am actually the witch.

John: Oh my God she’s totally lying! Elizabeth I told them already

Elizabeth: Aw rats

[Elizabeth is dragged out of court and taken to prison]

John: GOD IS DEAD!!

[Everyone gasps]

Ascha: HEY!

[John is dragged out of court and taken to prison]

Fic Resumes

[Begins in prison, before act four]

Ascha: John, care to explain why you reported my death?

John: Ascha you know I don’t mean anything by that. I was just trying to scare them. It’s also just a product of how infuriating this whole situation is. I guess it culminated with me saying something to get them out of the darn way.

Ascha: Well, it may have gotten them out of the way, but in the process has put you in danger. John, I know how this ends, but of course I can say nothing. I want you to know that you make the right decision. I trust you John, perhaps more than I’ve trusted anyone.

John: I appreciate that, although I don’t feel very worthy of that praise right now.

Ascha: It’s going to be okay John. John, listen to me, you just need to forgive yourself. Forgive yourself of your sins and everything will be fine. Confess your sins.

John /gathering courage/: Is it a sin to be so enraptured by you that I often have dreams at night that I dare not say out loud? Ascha, is it a sin to be so in love with every part of you? If so I will confess. Ascha I have sinned, for I have never been so in love with anyone. Ascha I am sorry, I know you asked me not to fall in love with you, but how could you have asked me something so impossible. I am in love with God himself, and if that is a sin then I am doomed, for I will live an eternity not knowing his embrace.

Ascha: Oh my. Well this has certainly taken a turn, hasn’t it? I suppose I should return your sentiments. Yes John, I am in love with you as well. It is hard to believe that I have fallen in love with a mortal, but when I remember that it is you that I have fallen for it no longer seems so irrational. John, you are extraordinary. I am so lucky to have you as a companion.

John: Ascha, when you said I would live a long life, you were lying, right? I am going to die at dawn, aren’t I?

Ascha /through tears/: Yes John.

John: Why are you crying? I will be with you, won’t I?

Ascha /crying harder now/: Yes John but… Dying is so painful. I am heartbroken that you have to experience it just to live out your days with me in heaven.

John: Ascha, you are worth a thousand of my deaths.

Days pass, Ascha and John share sentiments. They discuss aspects of death, what death will truly mean for John, and other philosophical end-of-life discussions. Before long it is time for John to either confess or hang.

Play (act four)

John: Elizabeth, what do you say about my situation?

Elizabeth: John, I say that I am in no place to forgive you. I get that I was a miserable old hag. Just do what you feel is right, and forgive yourself.

John: You know, you’re right.

[Danforth enters with his posse]

Danforth: Yo, John if you’re gonna confess you best be signing your name.

John: Oka-

Danforth: Also, did you see Goody Sibber or Rebecca Nurse or Chewbaca or Alice Barrow or Tom Cruise with the devil?

John: no way buddy.

Danforth: So you saw no one with the devil. So you’re lying. Sorry but if you’re lying we’re kinda gonna have to kill you.

John: Oh yeah I love ripping paper go ahead and convict me. God knows I’ve confessed, I don’t need this on paper [John rips the paper]

Ascha: John, their knowledge of confession has nothing to do with me. I have no say in it for them. You are going to hang John. Oh John, I am so sorry.

John: Ascha you do not need to worry. I am not sorry

Danforth: Stop rambling and get outside, we have to hang you now.

Elizabeth: he forgave himself. I just know it.

#my writing #its not finished!! more fluff to come X3 #when john proctor / god

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