#i promise i'll make a proper tag for it eventually | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thisonehere · 2 months

Note

Hello! How u doing?

Can I request some comforting fluff with Kuai Liang, pretty please? :'D

Like, reader is sad and hurt... maybe he promises to always take care of them? Feel free to add anything or anyone you feel like!

And sorry if it's too vague, I'm a little sleepy rn... Anyways, I love your writing! 💕

You got it!

In my arms

Kuai Liang x sad!reader

A/n: Say no more, I have lots of ideas lol

Tags: Fluff, MK1, Request, SFW, some angst

C/w: None

"Y/n," Kuai's words, soft like cotton, bounce off the walls into your ears. His voice is heavy with concern. You jump in surprise at his voice, you were so sure you had been alone. That is something you got used to for quite a while.

Kuai had been busy for the longest. He wasn't there as much as you wanted-no-as much as you needed him to be. You had been going through something for the longest. Something had happened that left you grieved.

Kuai didn't see this but you had been suffering for quite some time. He didn't hear your cries at night. Every time you looked to him for support, he wasn't there. He was off somewhere attending to some clan buisiness. You were here in grief.

Many times you didn't leave the house that much, you struggled to get out of bed, you often found yourself unable to take proper care of yourself because of how depressed you were.

Kuai had found you having a mental breakdown, one of countless others you've had. The moment you are aware of his presence you attempt to hide your face. "I'm fine." You insist as you quickly try to wipe your tears and regain your composure.

"Y/n..." Kuai softly says again, he slowly nears you. "I'm Fine!!!" You don't mean to snap at him but you do. This sudden action makes you feel so ugly inside, you've felt ugly for the longest. Like inside you was wrong, that you were disgusting and broken.

You jolt in surprise as you feel Kuai's hand touching yours. His skin is so soft, so warm. Yours is so dry, so cold, you think.

Kuai can feel his heart break in such a state. He never knew you were going through this. You seemed fine on the outside, you always gave him an enchanting smile, a lighthearted laugh. You gave no hint of anything going on inside.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He says, begging more than asking. He thought that you were fine, how he wishes he knew. You could hear how desperate he was to hear you, to reach out for you.

You try to turn away from him, too embarrassed, how you possibly gave him? Suddenly, you feel his warm hand spread across your cheek, bringing back to look him in the face. His eyes are so loving, so passionate. It's obvious that want-no- needs to know what's wrong.

Despite how eager he is to listen, you are still so ashamed. You fight with your mouth to open and force the words out. You do your best to explain, it was hard at first but the words seemed to flow out much more easily as you talked more. Kuai just stares into your eyes as you explain, taking in every word like his life depended on it.

You felt so ashamed and embarrassed and hideous. Before you can even finish, you turn away from him, you can't face him. You feel the burning hot tears run down your cheeks as your sight gets blurry from all these tears.

Suddenly, you feel Kuai's warm hand spread across your cheek as he gently pulls you back to look at him. "It is alright, I'm here." He encouraged.

You find yourself sobbing uncontrollably as Kuai quickly scoops you into a warm embrace. He lays your head on his chest and rubs your back. The sound of his heartbeat coupled with his warm hands bring some level of comfort to you and it eventually calms you down.

"Y/n, please forgive me. I should have been here for you." He says, his arms wrapping around you tighter, as if you would fade away at any second and he would lose you. "I will always be here for you, I'll always take care of you, that I promise from this moment."

Before you can provide any possible protest, Kuai picks you and Carrie syou bridal style to your bed and gently lays you onto it. He wraps the covers around you. "Kuai, I-" you try to say, but he shushes you as he sits beside you. "Everything is going to be alright, I'm here." He says as he lays next to you, his eyes beam with love and adoration for you. This settles your nerves as you finally find some form of peace.

You slowly fall asleep in his arms, though this doesn't solve the problem as a whole. But this is a good start. You found comfort in, even though this is going to be a rough journey to recovery, Kuai would be at your side. From him, you'd get support and love. And that made you smile.

#mk1 #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #mk x reader #mk fanfic #mk x y/n #kuai liang #kuai liang scorpion #mk scorpion #scorpion x reader #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang x you #fluff #agnst #fluffy #request

68 notes · View notes

dovahkook · 2 years

Text

Divine Blessings

Pairing: MORAX (ZHONGLI) x READER

nsfw: sacrilege, corruption, breeding, dragon-hybrid, dacryphilia, dumbification (not in this piece)

PART II > here

tags: smut, concepts of war, morax being a menace, idk what else just be warned the piece is kind of dark and it involves death, maybe some gore, religious themes, kinda blasphemous and the reader is a heathen… for now…

A/N: I havent written in a long time lmao lets get this out of the way because what better way to bring good luck than to be fucking the geo archon himself, right? hope you get him within your first 40 pulls :) this was supposed to be a quick fuck piece but ended up having a plot that i have not gotten to the fucking lol. also i want to keep it gender neutral but when it comes to the smut i'll give warning on how it's handled.

You knew the fate of your nation was doomed the moment your god declared war against Liyue Harbour. The foolish, egotistical buffoon that was the God of Dreams really thought he would be able to reign over both nations when up against a god as merciless as the Lord of Geo, Morax.

Insufferable, truly.

You never held faith in the god of dreams. Your family believed you were the one who plagued them with misfortune ever since you refused to worship the deity of your nation but you stood your ground. Refusing to believe in a god who did nothing for his people and who would punish non-conformists by plaguing their sleep with nightmares until they eventually gave into his ruling.

How could you ever respect a tyrant?

It did not matter if your family sent you away to live and serve at the god’s shrine as a 'cleric' in hopes of you finding a way to let the lord of dreams into your life. You could never allow yourself to fall into the false promises of a god so arrogant.

A god so vile.

Living in the temple, you knew of the wicked cards up his sleeve. The secrets only the other priests and priestesses knew of the god.

The stairway leading towards the temple began in the centre of the city, granting access all the way up towards the altar where people would make their offerings to the god of dreams. Beyond the altar would be the entrance to the realm of dreams, referred to as Haze, where the god would spend his time gathering his army in preparation for the overthrow of Liyue. No mortal was able to pass through to the realm of Haze without their bodies being tarnished by horrid scars and their mental state declining ever so slowly that it was painful for those simply witnessing it.

The god not caring about the effects it left on those who were curious as he believed they deserved it for going against his wishes.

However, the clerics of the temple had a special blessing laid upon them to enter the realm to care for an imprisoned soul. The god’s triumph card: an illuminated beast that he enslaved during one of his conquests. Taking advantage of the poor being by exploiting his weaknesses and forcing him to destroy any weaker gods daring to oppose the tyrant.

The other clerics dreaded tending towards the hostile adeptus as he would try to fight his way out of the realm but nothing could free him no matter how hard he tried. And this was your only advantage over the other devotees. The beast was less hostile towards you, the one who would try to sneak him in proper food and water and who would try to clean his wounds after battle. You came to know him as Alatus, the only other being who seemed to hate the God of Dreams as much as you did.

What good did forcing beliefs ever do for anybody? What good could possibly come from a non-believer living in the temple for deity worship?

The downfall of said deity was a start.

One day as you were making your way back towards the shrine, the earth began rumbling under your feet. Stone steps leading to the opening gates of the altar cracking and shrieks in the far distance were carried through the wind. Maidens in the temple tried rushing towards the doors to call to those in the village to seek refuge in the sanctuary while guards left all posts to stand at the city gates. All was happening at once as the watchtower chimed the bell that stood as the warning of incoming forces. A bell that signified something worse than death was coming.

The god of dreams suddenly made his way to the centre of the city where everybody could see their deity. Silver wings unfurled and the tips of his indigo hair streaked a vibrant azure as he called upon his allies and summoned his bow in preparation. Standing with him was Alatus, as well as his summonings from the realm of Haze. Titanic sized elemental beings who were forced to obey the god as he had their state of mind altered through their dreams.

It was all or nothing now; a war that cannot be lost.

“My people, lend me your strength and stand with me this day. Morax is here.”

And with that declaration, a thunderous roar shook the earth once more.

Morax, the lord of Geo, the ruler of Liyue harbour - strode ever closer with only two other allies at his side. A dragon as tall as the mountains itself, and a crane that flew above them, large and enchantingly graceful with every thrash of her powerful wings.

You stood motionless within the sanctuary of the temple, far into the city and towering over to symbolise as a beacon to his people that he is ever present. Fear creeping into your heart thinking of where your family may be at this hour while a war looms ever so greatly over their heads. But even your thoughts were not fast enough to keep up with the reality of a war between gods.

Even from the farthest point of the city you could see soldiers fall into the shattering earth as the great dragon seeped into the bedrock and caused the ground they stood on to be littered in gorges that burst into flames. The crane took charge of fighting off the titanic creatures with an art so pure and filled with elemental energy that it could even freeze over the fires the dragon created in the earth. And with the hands of his allies full, all the god of dreams could hope for was to defeat Morax with his triumph card.

The Devourer of Dreams.

Morax invaded incoming attacks from the God while the young adeptus blinked in and out of mists of black ruin in an attempt to land a strike. Futile attempts and the sound of weapons clashing raptured through the city.

You watched as the sky became a blanket of frost and the ground below sunk to swallow up those who dare cross the lord of geo. People ran towards the alter, tears streaming down their face as they wailed their prayers for safety in the sanctuary.

Eventually they reached the middle of the city. Defences shattered and all allies nearly slain by the hands of the crane and the dragon alone. Morax still fought on as he pushed the god and Alatus further and further into the city in attempt to reach the temple. Your eyes widening as you noticed the dragon and crane taking on human forms and dispersing over either side of the city to clear it of any hostiles. The dragon making his way to where your family used to live.

Your feet took the initiative for you, running to follow in pursuit of the dragon and ignoring the pleas of the other priestesses and attendees to remain behind and care for the people of the city. You did not care. Their god could not protect them so why would you risk the safety of your own family and place your faith in that false promise of a god to keep them protected from the wrath of the rock.

It felt as if every bone in your body was on fire as you ran towards the location of your old home. The sheet of frost causing your skin to burn from the cold temperatures while the smoke of smouldering earth filled your lungs. You persisted through. Tears in your eyes from the pain that you had to swallow back and used the scarf draped over your shoulders to wrap around the lower half of your face.

Of course, all was futile.

When you arrived at the scene, your house was in ruin. Roof caved in and bodies of neighbours trampled along the street painting the ground the most nauseating shade of red you had ever seen. This is what happens when you placed all your faith into a god who did not care for his people. You did not bother moving from where you stood. Snowflakes gathering on your shoulders and eyelashes and your gaze never faltered from the childhood home you would never be able to return to.

To the family who gave you away to a god who failed to protect them.

A building nearby caused a reverberating sound of malice that brought you back to your senses. The adeptus covered in karmic mist laid meekly in the rubble of the building after Morax managed to subdue him. You watched helplessly as the - now human form - of the dragon strode towards the impact and checked the pulse of the adeptus. His eyebrows furrowed as he knelt down to pick up Alatus and slung him over his shoulder. Were they going to enslave him too?

The dragon looked towards the sky and you followed his gaze. Not far above both of you was Morax himself and your heart stopped momentarily when your eyes met the ones of burning amber.

Knees feeling weaker and breath hitching as you witnessed the grip on his spear tightening before he gazed back towards the dragon who found his attention on you, too.

That was your cue to run.

No prayers following your lips as you tried fleeing back towards the temple.

No sight of the God of dreams anywhere near Morax.

Only the blinding frost and sound of screams could be heard now.

You carried on running.

No time to stumble.

No time to look back.

Because of that false god, your life was on the line to a God whose wrath was said to be worse than the fate of death.

You managed to get back to the stairway of the temple before your body eventually gave in to exhaustion. Frustration pulsing through your veins telling you to MOVE! GET UP!

But nothing.

You clenched your fists, damning the god who caused all this by his declaration.

And soon, the shadow of the Lord of Geo could be seen behind you.

Tears, warm and staining your cheeks dripped onto the cracked stone as you accepted your fate.

Laying there, the last sight your eyes would burn into your mind was of the maidens erratically trying to shut the gates to the temple.

“I knew your false god could not protect us.” Were the last words said before slipping into darkness. And you hoped that those words, you so bitterly mumbled, reached the ears of the god who failed everyone.

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #morax x reader #genshin impact morax #xiao genshin impact #alatus #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #rex lapis x reader

681 notes · View notes

imaginesforfandom · 8 months

Text

A Spell Gone Awry

someone requested a Stephen Strange x Reader but i accidentally deleted it so i can't tag them 😭 also, i love the work awry. js sounds cool. after i wrote this, my current obsession went from the mandalorian straight to a wizard so-

Stephen Strange x Reader

No pronouns used

Summary: In "A Spell Gone Awry," the reader finds themselves at the Sanctum Sanctorum seeking help from Doctor Stephen Strange after a magical mishap. Despite Stephen's initial annoyance, he agrees to assist the reader in fixing the botched spell. As they work together, their relationship deepens, and the initial annoyance transforms into affection. The story is a blend of magical mishaps, romance, and personal growth, culminating in a heartwarming moment that highlights the power of love and support in the face of challenges.

A Spell Gone Awry

You stood at the imposing entrance of the Sanctum Sanctorum, clutching a crumpled piece of parchment in your hand. The evening was crisp, and the mystical aura of the building sent shivers down your spine. You had messed up a spell—big time—and there was only one person who could help you now: Doctor Stephen Strange.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside. The Sanctum's interior was as mysterious as its exterior, filled with ancient relics and books that seemed to whisper secrets from centuries past. You ventured further, the tapping of your shoes echoing through the vast hallways.

As you approached the library, you heard the faint rustling of pages and saw Stephen sitting at a table, engrossed in a tome of ancient spells. His distinctive crimson Cloak of Levitation hung nearby, seemingly keeping a watchful eye on you.

Clearing your throat nervously, you spoke up, "Stephen."

The Sorcerer Supreme looked up, his eyes narrowing as he saw you. "What brings you here, (Y/N)? Shouldn't you be resting after your last magical mishap?"

You winced, remembering the botched spell that had led you here. "I messed up, Stephen. Really messed up. I thought maybe you could help me fix it."

Stephen's annoyance was evident, and he sighed, closing the book before him. "You need to be more careful with your magic, (Y/N). You can't just waltz in here every time you make a mistake."

You lowered your head, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "I know, Stephen, and I'm sorry. I'll try to be more careful, I promise."

Stephen's stern expression softened slightly, and he beckoned you closer. "Come here, then. Let me see what kind of mess you've made."

You approached him, handing him the crumpled parchment with the spell you'd attempted. Stephen examined it closely, his fingers tracing the lines and symbols you'd drawn. "This is quite the mess," he muttered under his breath.

Guilt gnawed at your stomach as you watched him work. You knew you should have been more cautious, especially since you were dating the Sorcerer Supreme. The fact that he was helping you despite his annoyance made you feel both grateful and even more embarrassed.

After what felt like an eternity, Stephen finally looked up from the parchment. "I can fix this, but it will take some time and concentration. And I expect you to assist me every step of the way."

You nodded eagerly, relieved that he was willing to help. "Of course, Stephen. I'll do whatever it takes."

As the hours passed, the two of you worked side by side, carefully unraveling the tangled magic you had inadvertently created. Stephen's annoyance gradually gave way to a shared sense of accomplishment as you made progress. He guided you with patience, explaining the intricacies of the spell and how to mend it.

The atmosphere in the library shifted from one of tension to one of intimacy. As you and Stephen worked together, your fingers occasionally brushed against each other, sending a spark of warmth through your veins. There was a sense of closeness and connection that only grew with each passing moment.

Eventually, the spell was restored to its proper form, and you couldn't help but smile with gratitude. "Thank you, Stephen. I couldn't have done it without you."

Stephen returned your smile, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. "You're welcome, (Y/N). Just remember to be more cautious next time."

You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips, feeling a rush of affection. "I will, I promise."

With the spell restored and your embarrassment gradually fading, you and Stephen retreated to a cozy corner of the library. You snuggled up to him, resting your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.

As the two of you sat there, surrounded by ancient tomes and the warmth of each other's presence, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Stephen's guidance and love. The initial annoyance had given way to a deep connection, and you knew that with him by your side, you could face any magical challenge that came your way.

With a contented sigh, you whispered, "I love you, Stephen."

He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice filled with affection. "I love you too, (Y/N). And I'll always be here to help you, no matter how many spells you mess up."

You closed your eyes, feeling safe and loved in his arms, and together, you drifted into a peaceful, magical slumber, knowing that the future held many more adventures—and plenty of fluffy moments—for the two of you.

The night passed in a peaceful embrace, and you awoke to the soft rays of morning light filtering through the library's windows. Stephen was still beside you, his steady presence a comforting reminder of the love you shared. You smiled at him, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

"I suppose we should get some rest now," Stephen whispered, his voice warm and tender.

You nodded, not wanting to let go of the moment just yet. "Just a little while longer."

With that, you nestled closer to Stephen, savoring the intimacy and love that had grown stronger through the night. The Sanctum Sanctorum may have been a place of magic and mysticism, but it was your love for each other that truly made it enchanting.

And as the two of you drifted back to sleep, entwined in each other's arms, you knew that no matter what challenges or spells awaited you in the future, you had the most powerful magic of all—love—to guide you through.

40 notes · View notes

candied-boys · 9 months

Text

Catboy Charles x F! Reader - Part 5

Tags: domestic fluff, showering together because bbg doesn't know how

Part 4

The way Charles perches in his seat at the table is adorable. You mentally applaud yourself for not having barstools, but instead for investing in proper dining chairs. Knees up and feet on the cushion, he sits just like he always has as a cat. He even keeps his hands in front on the edge of the chair. Even his pretty tail sways through the gaps in the back.

His unfamiliarity with using his hands only adds to his charm. After a few demonstrations, he figures out how to hold the fork, but every time he thinks you're not looking his pink tongue sticks out in concentration as he tries to stab things onto the utensil.

He refuses to eat his greens. He won't even try them, pouting and saying cats don't eat grass. Charles does drink three glasses of milk, eat all his sausages, and pick out the soft centre of his bread; but you also hear him snacking on his kibble when you leave the room. You'll have to put that stuff away, or at least check if it's safe for humans to eat.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺

With lunch out of the way, you flop onto the sofa to try and figure out what to do about all this. Naturally, Charles takes his seat beside you and begins doing what he does at least half the day normally - grooming. It's such an unremarkable part of your life that you hardly register it anymore. That is until you're wrenched out of your pondering by much grunting and fussing.

“Can't… nnnn… reach!” Charles huffs as he tries to lick his tail.

As soon as you meet his gaze you can see how distressed he is from the helpless way he looks at you with those big blue eyes. Petting him consolingly you tell him, “I think you'll have to learn to groom the way humans do, Minou.”

He tilts his head in obvious confusion. Come to think of it, you've never let him in the washroom when you're showering. You didn't bother trying to give him a bath as a cat either because you know it's not necessary.

Hauling him up he trails obediently behind, standing next to you as you explain that you use the shower to get clean. From outside the booth, you turn on the faucet. The moment the water sprays the tile, he backs up against the bathroom wall.

“No rain,” he mewls in fear.

“It's not rain, Minou. It's a shower. It's nice. I promise!”

“I hate the rain! It's cold and it makes me feel sick and I get so dirty after it rains it ruins my coat and makes a mess of my tail!” he whimpers and clutches said fluffy accessory.

“This is warm and you'll feel great after! I'm sure you'll like it if you try,” you coo and scratch his ears again to calm him down.

“There's no such thing as warm rain…”

It seems the only way you can convince him it won't be that bad is by proving it to him.

“Here, give me your hand. We'll touch the water together and see if it's cold, okay?”

He nods warily and follows your lead but flinches at the sensation of the water hitting his palm.

“Don't like it…” he murmurs and quickly withdraws.

“I promise it's really nice when you're inside… I know you're scared, but if you can't groom like usual you won't be clean. I know you like to stay immaculate and this will help.”

Shaking his pretty mop of lavender hair back and forth he refuses again. “I don't want to be wet.”

“I'll dry your hair after for you?” you offer.

He looks at you with a suspicion like that isn't actually possible.

“I'll even wash your hair for you if you want?”

This is the only thing you've said that softens his frightened expression.

“You'll groom me?”

“Sure. If that'll make you feel better and help you get used to it.”

He agrees, but clings to your hand when you step into the shower booth together. You stand under the showerhead, blocking most of the water from hitting him until he adjusts. His pretty blue orbs flit to every corner of the little space. The more he takes in the weaker his grip becomes.

“Now what?” he eventually asks when he's satisfied his curiosity.

You show him your usual routine, and one step at a time do the same for him. You start slow, lathering up your hands and then giving him a chance to touch the bubbles. Rubbing the soap into his hands, in between his fingers, and up his wrist until he seems less wary. Gradually, you convince him to step out of the corner and into the spray with you so that you can help him suds up.

After washing his chest, you turn him around to wash his shoulders without much thought, but Charles hates the way his tail ends up soaked and heavy. Pouting and pleading with his moonstone eyes for you to fix it, you switch to shampoo. First demonstrating with your own hair, you then work the product into your hands and through his tail. Careful not to mat it, you make sure all of it is clean right down to the base.

Though you're sure owners shouldn't use conditioner on their cats - or any products not designed specifically for pets - you also know he can't care for it himself. With how fluffy it is, you don't want his tail to get tangled when you dry it. As you work the conditioner in gently you notice he's much more relaxed, to the point where you think you can hear a faint purr to over the pitter patter against the tiles.

With him finally at ease, you suggest he try shampooing his hair himself. Butterflies fill your stomach as you watch him step under the showerhead to wet his hair. It's not like you've never showered with a guy before, but you never had to teach them how to shower; how not to get soap in his eyes, what a washcloth is for, how to use a bar of soap without dropping it, not to lick his hands clean afterwards.

At length you finish and step out, wrapping him up in a big, soft towel. You swaddle his tail in another one and take him back to the bedroom so that he can sit while you blow-dry his hair. Though at first he hates the sound being so close to his sensitive ears, the way you play with his tresses as you dry the roots has him dozing off in minutes.

You debate getting him used to the device by asking him to do his tail, but he looks so peaceful curled up on the bed - ears twitching now and then in his sleep - that you can't resist drying it yourself. All fluffed out, you brush it until it's silky soft, just as you always do for him, then cover him up with the spare quilt.

Though it's not even dinner yet and you didn't get up until noon, it feels like a very long day. Feeding and bathing your cat-turned-boy is all you've done but you're exhausted and clearly Charles is too. You wonder how parents do it day after day for years on end.

When he eventually wakes up from his cat nap, he's very pleased with your work and enthusiastically thanks you by rubbing his head on your shoulder. With a gentle purr in the back of his sugary voice, he asks to pet his tail to see just how soft it is.

“I guess you like the conditioner then?” you comment when he flicks it back into your lap for you to touch again.

“Condi-what?” he responds, taking his tail back and enjoying its softness for himself.

“The creamy one I massaged into your tail after shampoo. It's what makes your hair smooth. You can try it yourself next time.”

Tilting his head he asks, “How do I remember which is which? They all look the same…”

With your fingers combing through the silken fluff at his third request, you answer, “Just read the label. Oh… wait… You can't read, can you?”

He shakes his head and looks terribly sorry as he curls up into himself and wraps his tail around his ankles.

Your to-do list for tomorrow just became a lot longer.

Part 6

#charles route release campaign #ikevamp #ikevam charles #ikemen vampire charles #charles henri sanson #ikevamp charles #ikevamp fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire x reader

31 notes · View notes

turnaboutstevie · 9 months

Text

The Best Day

Inspired by me listening to the best day and crying over how much I love my dad, and by my incurable TLOU brainrot, here is 2k of Joel being an amazing dad, Sarah being an amazing kid, and both of them being happy for fucking once.

Tags: No Outbreak!AU, WORLD'S BEST DAD JOEL, basically a songfic, there is a speech and I have not written a speech in 6 years so apologies if that sucks. Liberties taken with: depicting the 90s and early 2000s, the way US schools work, the amount of speech development a 3 year old should have. I used the show's timeline for the years, btw. Crossposted to AO3

PLEASE ignore any mistakes, I am disabled, dyslexic and brain foggy.

1992

The kitchen is a veritable mess, a painting set spread across the dining table, and a plastic sheet protecting the wood from staining. Sheets of A4, some wet with paint and some already dry, cover seemingly every surface. Swashbuckling pirates, beautiful princesses, dwarves and poison apples- at least, those were the artistic vision. In reality, they're mostly stick figures with splashes of colour, painted haphazardly by the very focused 3-year-old sat at the table. Sarah babbles half-coherent explanations of everything she paints, and Joel diligently labels them with a biro, sure to tell her that every single one of them is a work of art. Tommy stands in the corner, a camcorder in hand, a smile on his face as he watches his brother and niece. Sarah holds her most recent work of art up for her beloved uncle to see, the watercolour paint running down the page a little- Joel hadn't been able to get proper watercolour paper, hadn't really known where he might, so they're making do with printer paper. It doesn't absorb the paint nearly as well, but it'll dry eventually. He hopes.

Tommy squints at Joel's scribble at the top of the page- Cinderella- and smiles at her. "Belongs in the Louvre, that does." He says, focusing the camcorder on the page. "What's the L-... Louvre?" Sarah asks, taking a moment to get used to the new word. "It's an art museum, sweetheart," Joel says, kissing her forehead. "Uncle Tommy's right. You're a superstar. But even superstars need rest, or they ain't able t'shine. So let's clean you up, and then it's time for bed for you, baby girl." Sarah pouts, but her argument is interrupted by a yawn.

Sitting on the edge of the sink while Joel scrubs her hand, she scrunches up her nose. "Daddy, why doesn't Cinderella just leave, when they're so mean to her?" She asks, with all the gravity of someone asking a politician how they plan to tackle a brewing war. He hums, thinking on how to phrase this. "Sometimes, sweetheart, people are so mean for so long that the people they're being mean to feel like they have no way to get away from it." He frowns. "You ever feel like that, you tell me, yeah? I'll come and get you away. No matter what."

A few minutes later as he tucks her into bed, freshly clean, she reaches up and presses her tiny fingers into his cheek. "You're so strong, Daddy. Like Superman." He smiles down at her. "And you're pretty as a princess, baby girl." He switches her nightlight on, kisses the top of her head. He's about to offer her a story, but she's already fast asleep. He sighs, staring down at her for a few moments.

"I'll keep you safe from anythin' that might hurt ya." He whispers, promising her even though she can't hear him.

1994

When Sarah is 5 years old, Joel takes her to a pumpkin patch. The sky is grey-blue when they arrive, and he makes sure to listen to the weather report on the truck's radio before deciding whether to bring the umbrella out of the back seat. He unclips her from her car seat, and he doesn't even have the door shut before she's running off. His laugh is exasperated but affectionate as he runs after her, hurriedly locking the truck, but she's already lost in a sea of people.

Panic grips him, as well as regret that he didn't take his anxiety pills this morning, and that he didn't think to tell her to hold onto his sleeve while he locked the car so she wouldn't run off. He's looking around desperately, trying to focus more on finding her than the dangers he can see that she could run into, when he catches a glimpse of her- a flash of lavender on the other side of the crowd. Where she gets her speed, her energy, he'll never understand, but he musters his own and runs after her, into a field he's sure they're not meant to be in. Hopefully, farmers understand that whims of a 5-year-old.

He catches up to her only when she comes to a stop, clearly having exhausted her sudden burst of excited energy. He comes to a halt next to her, taking a moment to catch his breath. His physical fitness applies to manual labour, not long-distance sprints. "Sweetheart, you can't just run off like that, you'll give me a heart attack-" He begins, but when he looks down at the way she's smiling, at how her big puffy winter coat makes her look like a penguin dyed lavender, at her fascination with the way the horizon is slowly turning gold, he can't help the affectionate laugh that spills out of him, bringing his gentle lesson to a halt. Sarah glances up at him when she hears his laugh, wrapping her tiny arms around his calf and hugging tight, and he calms immediately. She has that effect on him.

He sits down in the field, among the corn, holding onto the back of her coat to stop her running off as they watch golden hues paint across the sky, fading in places into pinks and purples. He fishes his Fujifilm out of his coat pocket, holding it up to snap a photo of her against the sunset, just as she turns back to smile at him. The result is a candid snap of the grin she reserves only for him, an unreserved beaming smile that warms his heart every time it crosses her face. She sits in his lap as the sky fades to grey, falling asleep with an ease that seems reserved only for kids. They'd done none of the things she'd said she wanted to, but she seemed so happy that he doesn't mind. She's probably forgotten all of it anyway.

He carries Sarah back to the truck, putting the Snow White soundtrack into the cassette player in case she wakes up when he starts it- which, of course, she does. She sings along, quiet and groggy at first but getting louder. As he pulls into the McDonald's drive-thru, she turns to look at him. "Can we go to Snow White's house, Daddy? I wanna tell her she's my favourite." Joel smiles, his heart swelling all over again. "I'll give her a call, sweetheart. See if I can arrange it."

He saves up for months, and takes her to Disneyland for her 6th birthday.

2002

Not long before Sarah finishes middle school, she walks into the house at 4 pm on a Thursday and devolves into a flood of tears. Joel's barely been home 5 minutes, exhausted and aching, but he cradles her in his arms instantly, comforting her in soothing whispers before he even knows the problem. As soon as she's calm enough to explain what happened- how her friends decided out of the blue that they hate her, and never even told her why-he's grabbing the keys to his truck. He lets her pick the tape, and sings along with her even though he hates Atomic Kitten, because he loves her more. He drives until her tears are dry, until she's smiling in the passenger seat and rolling her eyes at his awful jokes.

The town they end up in is miles from home, and he smiles down at her when she clings to his coat sleeve while they queue at a hot dog stand, the same way she used to when she was a tot. They eat their hot dogs on a park bench, while she tells him about how Liz Hurley has just given birth, and what Britney Spears is up to right now. He listens intently, as he always does, even though he's struggling to keep up with the speed of her rambling. When they finish eating he follows her into the nearby mall, making a mental note of anything she says she likes, for birthday gift ideas. He gives her $30 and lets her buy whatever she wants, smiling enthusiastically when she drags him to checkout with a purse shaped like a guitar, a set of plastic bead bracelets and two sweatshirts. It comes to $35, and he doesn't hesitate to hand another 5 dollar bill over, even when she offers to put the bracelets back. She falls asleep in the passenger seat on the drive home, and Joel smiles to himself. She grows more every day- sometimes he swears he blinked the day she was born and ended up 13 years older with a teenager - but Sarah's still his little girl. She still needs her dad, and he's always gonna be there.

Keeping her safe, like he promised her 10 years ago.

2008- May

Joel sits on a rickety plastic chair in a rundown auditorium next to his brother, and watches his baby girl accept her high school diploma. The golden sash around her shoulders makes him swell with pride, and though he promised himself he wouldn't cry, his eyes are watering the second her valedictorian speech begins. Inspiration was the theme she'd told him when he asked, but she'd refused to let him read it. He soon understands why.

"I can talk about my literary inspirations, or my political ones, and you can nod and agree with me, but I wouldn't be doing myself justice." She says, a third of the way into her speech. "But the worst injustice would be to my biggest inspiration of all. My father." Joel's vision blurs with tears, and he's immediately grateful for Tommy's rare moment of foresight in insisting he bring a packet of tissues. "My father is my rock. My biggest supporter and my best friend. He keeps me grounded, he gives me strength. He's on my side even when I'm wrong, but he never lets me dwell in ignorance. Without him, I would never have arrived here. He's been with me through all the hard work, 18 years of painful life lessons and unfortunate regrets- but also the moments of joy and love, the things I'll never forget. He taught me to work, to endure, to keep going no matter what. And he taught me to laugh, and to love, and to find joy even in the mundane. Of all my inspirations, of all the stars I wish upon- my dad shines the brightest."

Joel might as well be sobbing, and he doesn't care a bit who sees him. He'd been worried when Sarah got accepted into Columbia, that her moving so far would create an emotional distance between them, that she'd grow up and forget about her old man. For some reason, it had never occurred to him that she loved him so much that he would be unforgettable. That she would call him her biggest inspiration... He'll be crying over that for the rest of his life. He glances over at Tommy, finding him blubbering just the same. The key difference between them is the camcorder he holds, the same one he's been using to record key moments in her life since he bought it 15 years ago. Joel hadn't even realised he'd brung it with him, but oh, he's so grateful for him in that moment.

A permanent record of the proudest moment in his life- tied only with the day Sarah was born.

2008- July

He takes her to Disneyland again, for her 19th birthday. Just a month before she's due to head off for college. The itinerary is far removed from the one they followed 13 years prior- replacing The Country Bear Jamboree with Star Tours, Goofy's Bounce House with the Haunted Mansion, the Mad Tea Party with Mark Twain's Riverboat. That evening, in the twin hotel room Joel booked, Sarah comes out of the bathroom after brushing her teeth and catches him by surprise with a hug that practically winds him. He's stumped by what prompted such a forceful display of affection, until she looks up at him with tearful eyes and whispers: "I had the best day with you today, Dad."

And Joel realises that excitement for the next step in her adventure isn't the only feeling they share. That the ache in his heart at the idea of leaving her behind in New York next month, the feeling that she's growing up too fast, the need to find a way to grasp the sands of time and slow them down just for a moment, so he doesn't have to let her go- all of that is shared as well.

"Me too, sweetheart." He whispers, kissing her forehead. "The best."

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us game #tlou hbo #tlou #tlou game #tlou fic #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #sarah miller #📺🕹️tlou #🏷 joel miller #🏷 sarah miller

10 notes · View notes

bbael · 5 months

Note

hullo !! haven’t sent u a proper message in a while and i miss hearing abt u my love and am always thinking of u 🖤 how are you doing, have you been up to much lately ? hope you are having a nice Hanukkah also, chag sameach <3

with me everything is very very cold and stressful here, but I’m otherwise well !! I’m hoping it might snow at least, it’s not fair that it’s just freezing without actually giving us snow >:( the silver-lining of the cold is that my cat has been super clingy and cuddly to warm up w me tho,, ;u;🖤

lately I’ve mainly just been working & shopping in between tho,, most interesting thing thats happened is I applied for a very different kinda job a while back that I honestly thought I had no chance for, but this week I’ve just been told I got an interview !!! the application took ages, it’s quite competitive, and the interview will be even harder >.< but luckily I’ve got family w experience in the industry, so i’ve got a little advice at least eeeek

anywho,, hope you are well !! is it hotter where u are since we are opposites ? wishing you all my love and peace and sending you so so many hugs and kisses 🖤🖤🖤

Hii helloo me too, I miss you like crazy and ur in my thoughts constantly (hence the tag spam lately sorry)!!

And I actually haven't been up to much ? I've also been drowning in work though fortunately these are my last few weeks until summer vacations which is great!

(&& thank youu by the way, I had an okay hanukkah minus all the yummy goods because I'm always fucking up my stomach sobss I hope you are also having a nice holiday season my dear♡♡)

Sorry to hear you're stressed up though ;_; hopefully you can relax & see some snow soon! It is only fair.... (but also hehe your round baby must give the best cuddles).

I'm flying there in bat shape any moment bc here it's SO hot. Last night we had a little tornado and storm and it's cooled down a bit but still, I know its not gonna last.

If u open the window for me I promise I'll make you hot white chocolate with lavender 🩷

Also that's such great news omg do keep me updated!! I am wishing you the best in the new field of work my love ahhh. Job changes are always so exciting especially if you are a little confident >:3 shdjdj hopefully you'll get the spot!!

I'm going to be switching jobs eventually as well bc I'm officially going into teaching next year aughh. It took me a lot to get to this uhh resolution?, I'm so excited about this 🥹 finally will be able to put my lit. major to use hahdjfj

Anywho....I hope these last few couple days of the month treat you well my angel, you are foreverrr in my mind and I am always wishing you the best. I'm accepting all those hugs & kissies & sending u mine~ I love you mwah🖤🫀🥀🖤🫀🥀

#makes so happy to read from u u have no idea 🥹🖤🖤🖤#asks

3 notes · View notes

freakwiththeknifecollection · 2 years

Text

Fanfic Writer 20 Questions!

I was tagged by @lumiereandcogsworth, thank you bestie!!! 💖💖💖 This got long so I put it under a cut lmao

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

18!

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

48,844! (I love how they're all 8's and 4's that's so neat :0)

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Three. I've written for Assassin's Creed, Life is Strange, and Supernatural

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

(The first two I cross-posted on tumblr immediately and they just BLEW UP overnight I'm still flabbergasted by it)

Officially a Winchester (62)

"You're doing it wrong." (57)

Check Yes, Juliet (40)

Something Just Like This - Revised Version (37)

Comfort (36)

5. Do you respond to comments? why or why not?

Yes, eventually!! 😅 Sometimes I'm so overwhelmed (positively 💓) by a comment, I don't have the spoons or the braincells to give it the proper reply it deserves, so I'll leave it for another time and it slips my mind sometimes but I do eventually get to them! Why? Because it encourages me so so so so SO MUCH and I want to engage with my readers and make them feel comfortable commenting in the future!! 💖

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don't often end things 😅 it's the ADHD. But my angstiest fic chapter ending is probably the prologue of House of Memories

7. Do you write crossovers?

No, but Lydia and I have crossover universes we exchange excerpts for and develop lore together!! <3 We love it dearly, it's so much fun 🥰

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope, thankfully! Maybe it's because I'm in a small fic pool, people are grateful for what they can get 😂 but I'd like to think it's because there's nothing to hate about my works

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have, on occasion, dipped my toes into those waters up until the point before the pants come off lol but I'm not comfortable writing beyond that. I don't mind reading it sometimes (really just for my ship, not others. Maybe cause I'm more comfortable with them? Idk lmao) but writing it myself? 😅 It's not in my wheelhouse.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

To my knowledge, no. But if someone wanted to, I'd be open to it! I'm all for having a wider reader base 😄

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Fic? No

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

⬆️ They don't just live in my mind rent free, they're the landlords calling the shots on the daily.

14. What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

*sighs longingly, defeatedly, even* Check Yes, Juliet. I want to. I really want to. But the versions of Dean and Jo in that fic don't speak to me anymore. I think because they don't align with the characterizations I've developed for them since. Well, mostly just Jo. I've thought about rewriting the whole thing for a long time and have started to with the first chapter but I'm not sure how far I'll get with it, so no promises 😅 I do love that universe for them though, and as my first chaptered fic and longest fic so far, it holds a very special place in my heart and always will ♥️

15. What are your writing strengths?

1. BANTER. Not to toot my own horn but I think of myself as the Aaron Sorkin of the (active) Chestervelle fic pool. It's my biggest strength and I think often it makes up for what I can lack in scene-setting. 2. Characterization! I've been told a lot that my characterization is dead-on, so much so that the reader can hear my dialogue in the character's voices because it fits so well. 3. I've also been told (and I'm paraphrasing here) that I describe emotions in a way that evokes a visceral response from the reader

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

1. Setting the scene, my beloathed 😑 it's probably the biggest thing that holds me back from posting fic. It's not for a lack of writing, I write often, I just struggle with scene-setting and can't post anything without it. 2. I'm grouping these all together because they're the same category: introductions, scene transitions, and conclusions. Another thing that keeps me from posting fic 😒

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I think it's best left to the multilinguals unless you have a fluent speaker of the language to consult or collaborate with you. Don't use Google translate, I made that mistake in my early teens 🙈

18. What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Assassin's Creed. Long story short that's the one I used Google translate for 🙈 regret

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

HOUSE OF MEMORIES MY BEST FRIEND HOUSE OF MEMORIES!!!!! It's sooo important to me I love it SO much, chapter 2 specifically. It's just so !!! It's everything I wanted from them in canon. I wanted them to have a real, long conversation where they joke and laugh and get serious and open up to each other and be comfortable in each other's company to not need words at all. They're best friends and it's EVERYTHING to me

20. Who do you tag?

UUUUHH THE GOTDAMN UHHH THE UHHHHHH

@two-cut-lines @karate-adjacent @calliopeos @joharvelles-roadhouse @notyoursunnygirlfriend @charlie-bradbury @magdaclaire @nasatshirts @altarofrowena @mrcowboydeanwinchester @pumpkinspicebearbenny @speakofgrace @magneticghouls @kpopusly @lighthouseriots and anyone else I may have forgotten (I'm terrible at remembering urls, I'm sorry! It's not personal!) or anyone who wants to do this, consider yourself tagged!!

#tag game #fanfic writer 20 questions #my writing

11 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 2 years

Note

Hope you feel better soon! Is there any way we can help you feel a little more appreciated? You're really great, promise, and deserve all the love X

(referencing this post)

Hey Nonny *hugs*

Thank you kindly <3 Unfortunately, the real life work situation is a "waiting game" right now, so not much anyone can help me with in that regard, unless someone wants to hire me for art commissions or graphic design work, heh. I am a freelancer, I just don't advertise that here since I think very little of myself.

The brain issues, working through it with my therapist. I see her again on Monday, but sadly my insurance only covers twelve sessions for the whole year, so... I'm getting close to that threshold, so I might see if anyone is interested in commissioning me for something so I can make SOME of that money back, or maybe, if no one is opposed to it, turning on the "Tips" feature on my fic rec and meta posts since those are the ones I put a lot of time and effort into. I just never turned it on because I didn't want people to think ill of me. I've been in a bit of a financial bind since my summer holidays... I REALLY needed it, and I don't regret spending the money I did to DO it, but sadly my car ALSO decided it needed 1K in repairs right after that trip, so while it's debt I CAN afford to pay back eventually, I guess I'm just stressed because I'm in a job-limbo right now WHILE I've got that debt, and it's stressing me out. On a 60 day work notice, so I'm still employed just have to get my new contract.

Blog wise – and maybe this is just something I'm not being notified by Tumblr on, which is highly probable since I don't seem to get notified when I'm tagged – reblog my posts if y'all like them... I know a lot of y'all come from an "algorithm" generation, so something y'all might not know is that Tumblr really doesn't have that, so the only way I get any notice on my stuff is if y'all reblog or promote my stuff around. And I KNOW it gets shared around on other sites (I was told once they found me from a FaceBook post... *shrugs*), but screen caps of my blog only gets ya so far, ya know?

Anyway, don't mind me. This brain thing of mine happens occasionally, and I am just cycling through all my therapist's techniques to try to cope and none of them are working, so it's just making me more anxious. A hot chocolate and a proper sleep might help. I'll keep y'all posted.

Cheers for your kindness and care, lovely. It's very appreciated.

#steph replies #depression cw #my ramblings #about me

3 notes · View notes

dat-silvers-girl · 2 years

Text

I posted 3,369 times in 2021

161 posts created (5%)

3208 posts reblogged (95%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 19.9 posts.

I added 1,197 tags in 2021

#hogwarts mystery - 244 posts

#hphm - 235 posts

#harry potter hogwarts mystery - 152 posts

#sarahi silvers - 127 posts

#hphm mc - 94 posts

#hogwarts mystery mc - 89 posts

#miitopia - 65 posts

#hphm x miitopia - 65 posts

#miitopia 3ds - 64 posts

#patricia rakepick - 62 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#if i have to go to college this monday again i'll be this close to deleting my wips just so that i can study things nobody cares about

My Top Posts in 2021

Friday Night Funkin: Sphinx Club edition

Here you go @weirdcursedvaultkid!!! In reference to this, Merula and Ismelda are now ready for a proper rap battle!

Have fun bopping on the speakers, Alex! ❤️

60 notes • Posted 2021-05-16 21:06:25 GMT

"I've never gone all out before. I'll show you what I can do."

I enjoyed the duel with Rakepick in chapter 42 and all, but I really wish it was more epic. In my headcanon, Sarahi uses the smokescreen spell, Fumos, to distract Rakepick and when the smoke cleared, she'd literally pointed dozens of arrows at her. That was obviously not good.

Made a loading screen version too because it was fun.

61 notes • Posted 2021-02-09 19:11:50 GMT

"Happy Birthday Sarahi..."

Today is 11 September 2021, therefore mine, and Sarahi's birthday! I'm always just overly excited on my birthday for no reason whatsoever. I guess while I'm not exactly ready to grow up, I do find it amazing, personally, that I am, in fact, getting older. As of today, I am now 19 years old, but my brain mostly goes towards the fact that I will be 20 next year. It feels weird to me, but it's also rather thrilling.

I always make a birthday drawing for myself in advance, but I was late this year and only finished this soft Saranby piece at 5 PM. I have to say, I think this is the softest Sarnaby drawing I have made to date. I wanted to make this last year, as this is something that happens in Year 6, when Sarahi turns 17, but I forgot then, so I made it this year instead.

In Year 6, Sarahi doesn't spend her birthday with her friends. After putting on the dress Andre had given her as an early present, she goes to Diagon Alley to wait for Jacob, who had promised a week ago that he would show up for her birthday. He did show up, and presented Sarahi with a music box he had finished recently. Sarahi spent as much time as possible with him, but Jacob had to leave quickly. Even then, she only returned to Hogwarts in the evening. By then, her friends had already gotten worried and had been looking for her for hours. Barnaby eventually finds Sarahi in the Astronomy tower as it was getting dark, playing the tune of the music box on repeat. Soon enough, he sits down next to her and asks her where she had been. Sarahi explained where she was all day and her concerns, seemingly uncomfortable. Barnaby is thoughtful as ever, decides not to pry further, and just spends the evening with Sarahi, giving her as much affection as he possibly could. The two spent a while in the Astronomy tower, before Sarahi agreed with him to go have dinner and see her friends. At dinner, everyone is happy to finally see her (especially Andre who is so proud of himself for making the dress), and give presents of their own to Sarahi. She also recieves some gifts from her muggle friends back home.

61 notes • Posted 2021-09-11 12:07:03 GMT

OKAY-

OKAY JAM CITY WHO DID THIS?

I'd like to meet you and shake your hand.

68 notes • Posted 2021-09-30 04:14:28 GMT

SPOILERS for Year 6 Chapter 18 and later

OKAY I JUST REALIZED THIS BUT HEAR ME OUT-

Tagging my fellow Rowan lovers/friends because I think you may like this?

@weasley-adoptee @wandsandrings @adellovesrowan @carewyncromwell @carmilla-the-bird

So we know that Jam City apparently “had to” kill Rowan off in Year 6 Chapter 18 because we know in canon she’s not the youngest Professor at Hogwarts.

BULLSHIT!!!!!

That “canon” problem could have EASILY been avoided by making it so Rowan DID become the youngest Professor, but AT ANOTHER SCHOOL!

Imagine this: Rowan is gravely injured by a considerably less lethal curse (than Avada Kedavra at least). Her parents now are terrified of literal attempted murder, and decide to switch her school for her last 2 years of education.

Rowan could be left with scars like the ones @immagrosscandy once made? And once she has recovered in the Hospital Wing, we visit her, and she gives MC the news.

NO ONE IS HAPPY ABOUT THIS. ROWAN DON’T WANNA LEAVE. MC DON’T WANT HER TO LEAVE. BUT MC KNOWS THEY’LL BE SAFE SOMEWHERE ELSE. THERE IS CRYING. THERE IS GONNA BE A TEARFUL GOODBYE. THERE WILL BE THE PROMISE THAT WE WILL ALWAYS BE BEST FRIENDS! THERE WILL BE THE PROMISE OF WRITING TO EACH OTHER AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE!

And you know where Rowan goes? The Brazilian Wizarding School, Castleobruxo! Maybe let’s assume she has some family there. And that’s when Alanza comes in! (Alternatively, Ilvermorny is also an option, but I’m just saying.)

And because we had to let go of Rowan because of Rakepick’s antics, the Circle of Khanna could still be made in her honor. And once we’ve thoroughly kicked Rakepick’s ass, write to Rowan about it, and she replies “I’d normally pummel her with my extensive vocabulary of profanities, but I’m not going to write them down. I hope you gave her a couple punches from me.”

BONUS: The Head Kid TLSQ

MC writes to Rowan that Dumbledore offered us the position. Rowan writes back saying she’s proud of us, and also writes some stuff in Portugese (with translations), while excitedly telling us that she’s picking up the language and getting better, and how amazing Castleobruxo is. MC misses her extremely so we can’t share her enthusiasm very much even when we try. The whole “Dream Rowan” conversation could happen, instead, when Rowan sends MC a letter encouraging them to take it up.

In the end, MC sends her another letter saying we got the position and the badge, and we go the extra mile of even sending her the badge so she can see it. Rowan is already doing excited SQUEEEEEEEEEE at breakfast because she’s so proud of her bestie… and she sees that MC sent her two badges- one with MC’s name, and one with ‘Rowan Khanna’ on it. In the letter, MC has written, “Thank you for encouraging me, Rowan, but I will always feel like this position should have been yours. I may be the Head Girl now, but I choose to stand in your place. In the meantime, I requested Dumbledore get a badge for you too. You’re still my Head Girl, and that will never change. I hope you find it as shiny as I do.”

And Rowan fucking cries, like “That’s my best freind, right there!” Feeling a little bad that MC misses her so much, she sends MC her badge back with a letter and a surprise.

“Thanks for getting a badge for me, MC! I love it! Now you take yours and put it on, and remember that we now have matching badges! I miss you too, and I know you do as well, so I decided to send you a gift- the very thing that began our friendship in the first place. You’re my best friend, and I’m trusting you with this. Take care of it, yeah? Love you!”

Lo and behold, Rowan has sent MC the item from the beginning of the game- The scarf, hat, or sweater. AND WE. FUCKIN. TREASURE IT. LIKE WE DO ANYWAY.

As for the future, she tells us that she wants to continue studying at Castleobruxo and become a professor there. And MC and friends will be supportive!

Bottom line is, A LOT OF LETTERS.

TAKE THAT JAM CITY SHITHEADS! I FIXED YOUR PLOT LIKE I ALWAYS DO!

108 notes • Posted 2021-04-29 07:16:27 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #this year in review thing was too funny to not share #and my longest tag was me ranting about college #lmao

10 notes · View notes

soupiie-stories · 2 years

Text

I posted 46 times in 2021

36 posts created (78%)

10 posts reblogged (22%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.3 posts.

I added 115 tags in 2021

#brahms heelshire - 19 posts

#slasher x reader - 14 posts

#slasher - 14 posts

#🪨 :steph - 11 posts

#the boy 2016 - 10 posts

#vincent sinclair - 10 posts

#🔪 :slasher - 10 posts

#bo sinclair - 10 posts

#lester sinclair - 9 posts

#brahms x reader - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 118 characters

#im making my boyfriend stay on call with me while i sleep bc i have a very active imagination that likes to torture me

My Top Posts in 2021

hi !!! if ur ok with it, could i get a few headcanons of brahms with a transmasc partner? thank u! (≧∇≦)

Of course >w<

🧶🔨🧃📞♟

brahms would accept you but also be curious

you'd teach him about everything and he'd be so patient and nice when listening

too scared to ask questions but will hint at things he wants to know about

since he was raised in a very proper household, he wouldn't know what a lot o things are and most likely wouldn't want to be rude and make you leave

he was expecting a nanny like the rest but wasn't mad when you showed up

as long as you treat him right and take care of him, he's happy

will tell you sweet things and make you feel safe when feeling dysphoric

he doesn't like seeing his lover sad or upset

he doesn't treat you any differently other than wanting to know about stuff and doing the lil head tilt whenever he hears or sees something he doesn't know

🧶🔨🧃📞♟

i hope you like ! :)

64 notes • Posted 2021-11-14 23:26:47 GMT

What if Brahms found out the reader is a vampire? And after a while the reader told Brahms that she wants to turn him into a vampire like her because she loves him and doesn't want to lose him because of age or anything else, how would he react?

(if he agrees, when he turns into a vampire, all his stains from the fire will disappear)

🧶🔨🧃📞♟

I love this. He would definitely be down to be a vampire, but maybe a little reluctant because he doesn't believe in them. You'd have to show him and prove to him that you're real.

"Brahms, I promise i'm telling the truth. Look, I'll prove it." You then proceed to make your fangs visible. Brahms gasped but isnt afraid. He pokes them to make sure they're real. "See, I told you I was telling the truth."

Once you turn him, he thinks it is so weird that he's dead... but 'alive'. He doesn't want to drink blood prissy bitch but will eventually suck it up (see what i did there) .

"Now you can be mine forever. For real."

🧶🔨🧃📞♟

(i felt that this ask fit this style of answering. i like it buuutttt i might refine it to fit me more)

99 notes • Posted 2021-11-06 10:19:29 GMT

Maybe headcannons for bakugo, kiri, and another character of ur choice for a reader w/acne? There’s not enough love for acne havin folks :(

a/n I love this request so much. I hope i did it justice <3

Bakugo

- Anytime you feel down about your acne and it impacts your self-esteem, he immediately gives you kisses all over your face

- Hates loves skincare routines with you even though he won’t say it

- Constantly tells you that he doesn’t mind your acne because he doesn't

- He thinks it hilarious when he walks into the dorm kitchen and sees you making a random concoction of stuff for your skin

- You try to get him to stop eating chips because you don’t want him to get acne as well

- Never says anything bad about your skin to his friends or you

- Will call you names to make fun of you but you both know he doesn’t mean it

Kirishima

- Like Bakugo, he LOVES doing skincare with you because to him it’s manly’

- Listens to you when you say not to eat greasy food

- Likes kissing every single inch of your face while you’re asleep even though you’re secretly awake

- Goes out to buy you whatever acne wash you ask for

- Complains when you wear a lot of makeup to cover it up, even though he thinks you look beautiful, but because he thinks it covers your natural beauty

- If you ask him to only drink water with you, he will in a heartbeat because he doesn’t want you to do it alone

Deku

- I personally think that Deku would have stretch marks from bulking up so quickly

- In turn, you would both cater to each other’s insecurities and would bond over it

- Will help you make different mixtures for acne and scarring

- Would gladly be your test dummy for makeup bc you break out easily

- If you feel particularly insecure one day, he will give you a spa day so you feel better

- Light butterfly kisses™

- Eats healthy with you because he doesn’t want you to be left out although you have designated cheat days which he kinda approves of

105 notes • Posted 2021-03-07 20:45:27 GMT

Wanting - Brahms x gn! reader

Genre: hurt / comfort / fluff / angst

Pronouns: they / them

Words: 1.5k

Requested by @riverxxxo

Warnings: self harm (punching legs), wound, blood, mentions words cut and stab

It was a muggy day at the Heelshire Mansion, the wind was blowing rapidly against the windows, leaves being thrown about, and rain lightly pittering on the roof. There was said to be a big storm coming that would last for a few days. Y/n and Brahms were sitting in the parlor, watching an old movie on tape on the only t.v. in the whole house, the crackly audio being the only sound coming from within the house. Brahms had agreed that the rules could be bent today for them to watch a few movies and read together. They both had a mutual infatuation with each other but were both too shy to say so. Brahms wanted them to stay forever, and believed that they were going to, no matter what. Y/n knew that they couldn’t leave him, they had grown to love the mysterious man in the walls and hadn’t wanted to leave anyways. There was nothing for them outside of the house, this was where they felt safe.

After the movie, the pair stood up and began heading to the upstairs hall for bedtime. Breathing shakily, y/n decided that they were going to make a move, they were going to initiate the hopeful relationship. Praying that Brahms felt the same towards them, they were tired of waiting for him to make the first move. As they got to the hall, they gently grabbed Brahms’ arm to stop him. He turned around with a slight head tilt, confused as to why he was halted. They looked up at him and stepped closer, gently caressing the side of his masked face and leaned in to kiss the cold porcelain lips of the mask. Brahms' hands gently grabbed their waist, wanting them to be closer. Y/n’s hands held his face as they rested their forehead against his, breathing in each other's scent. Slowly creeping their hands around the back of his head to the string holding the mask onto his face, they lifted it over his head and began to slip the mask off of him. Brahms quickly jolted back, grabbing y/n’s wrist with his right hand, a small whimper coming from them, and holding the mask to his face with the other. “Why!?” his voice boomed from his chest. He was furious, thinking that he could trust that they understood that he was insecure about his scars that he tries so hard to forget about.

“I-I’m sorry.. Please let g-go Brahms.” Y/n was shaking, knowing how bad he can be when he’s angry, they didn’t want to anger him anymore than he already was. With one swift motion, Brahms let go and shoved past y/n, walking heavily into his room and into the walls where he went quiet. Y/n slowly stood from the floor and noticed the blood seeping through their shirt where a small statuette had stabbed them when they fell. Holding their side, they ran to their room and quickly locked both the closet and main door in case Brahms came out. They went to the bathroom and began treating their wound, not realizing that they had been crying this whole time. Tears ran relentlessly down their face as they realized the weight of what they had done. All the trust that had built up between the two of them had been ripped away in an instant.

Brahms had run off to his loft with haste, throwing the mask onto his bed, he felt all of the anger he had, burn up into sadness and regret. The look on y/n’s face when he spoke was enough to make him drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness but he was too caught up in the moment to notice. He felt betrayed by them, he had been too afraid to take off the mask and not at all ready in the slightest, and they thought that they could rush it and do it themselves? He was confused, sad, angry, but slightly relieved. Was that their way to tell him that they loved him like he loved them. He hoped that once he calmed down and understood what he was feeling, they would still love him.

A small sob ripped him from his thoughts, he had calmed down and was now only feeling bad for running away and yelling at y/n. He silently made his way to y/n’s room and peered through the wall to see them on their bed with their head in hands sobbing. Brahms noticed a red patch at their side and wondered what it was. Had they been bleeding? How? His thoughts were interrupted yet again when they lifted up their shirt to reveal the wound that was now caked with dried blood and needed to be bandaged. He watched as they cleaned it off with peroxide and placed a big bandage over it, wrapping it around themselves to secure it. He crept into the hall only to see a small statue with blood on one side, this was where they fell. Brahms’ head buzzed with the fact that he hurt them, he made them bleed. The thought of it made him sick, he loved them, how could he hurt someone he loves. He made his way back to his loft, crying silently at the thought of y/n crying because of him.

🧶🔨🧃📞♟

It had been a few days, the wound on y/n’s side had gotten smaller and been healing. They were now cleaning Brahms' childhood bedroom when they heard whimpers coming from below them. Worried, they sat still and waited to hear it again before reacting. Upon hearing it a second time, they crawled into the door in the closet they knew led to Brahms loft room. It was time they spoke to him, they needed to talk about what happened. Y/n didn't want anything to change between them, they didn’t want Brahms to avoid or ignore them. They cherished their relationship and wanted to apologize for what they did.

After walking through the walls for about 10 minutes, they found Brahms room, the whimpering had gotten louder and they knew that he wasn’t doing well. They stood in the doorway, grunts and whimpers could be heard feet in front of them. Y/n stepped forward and saw Brahms hunched over and repeatedly punching himself in the thighs. From the force he was putting into the punches, there had to be bruises forming. Y/n didn’t know it but he had been doing this since he saw them bleeding. They slowly walked towards him, careful not to make noise to scare him. He saw their sock clad feet and sat up straight but didn’t look them in the eye. “Brahms… w-what’s wrong?” They spoke softly. Brahms sniffed and looked up at them slowly, his face was rid of the mask giving y/n a perfect view of his scar littered mug. They saw all the hurt and raw emotion in his eyes, showing that he was deeply hurt and sorry for what he did. Although y/n didn’t see it as anything terrible, just a cut, Brahms felt like the worst person in the world. He hurt the one person who’d be with him forever.

“I hurt you. So I hurt myself. Fair.” Brahms' voice was a mixture of a childs and a mans. He was trying his best not to break down right there in front of them.

“Hey, it’s okay, please don’t hurt yourself,” They took a seat next to him and slowly rubbed his back, “I’m okay, it was only a cut, you didn’t mean to do it.” Y/n used a soft voice that they used when saying goodnight to Brahms, he found comfort in this and took a deep breath. Leaning into their touch, he turned towards them and leaned for a hug. Y/n accepted this and wrapped their arms around his trembling frame. They squeezed him tightly, wanting him to know that they forgive him. Brahms buried his face into y/n’s neck, breathing in the calming smell of them. They were his home, they were where he felt safest. Y/n felt the same, they wanted to be in Brahms’ arms forever.

After what felt like forever of savoring the moment, the two parted but stayed close. Staring at each other with what could only be described as love. Y/n grasped Brahms’ face, he melted into their hands and slowly leaned down towards them. They met in the middle, lips gently grazing one anothers. All of the pent up emotion brewing between the two had been released. They clumsily grasped at one another, Brahms’ hands finding themselves at y/n waist and neck, pulling them close. Y/n’s hands holding Brahms’ face as close as they can. They were gripping each other as if their life depended on it. With heavy breaths, they pulled away, resting foreheads to one another, basking in the moment for as long as they could.

“I love you.” Brahms had whispers under his breath, needing with every bone in his body for them to say it back.

“I love you too.” Y/n hushed back, wrapping their arms around the relived and blissful Brahms, holding him tight.

That night, for the first and certainly not the last time, Brahms fell asleep happy, utterly and truly happy. Holding one another, they slept soundly in the walls of the Heelshire Mansion, not to be bothered.

228 notes • Posted 2021-11-02 21:44:28 GMT

Living with / Dating Brahms would include

a/n this is my first time writing for Brahms. I've been hyperfixated on him for about a week now and today it was very strong so i decided to write again. I'm very surprised with how much i wrote but i am proud. Anywho, enjoy :)

Very Clingy… like all the time. You go to the kitchen, he’s coming out of the pantry wall. You’re emptying the traps, he’s staring at you through the windows and various peeking holes he has. Privacy does not exist for to this fella.

No more showering by yourself, he needs to be bathed by you or he won’t bathe at all. Although he will not wash himself, he will occasionally help to wash you. Scaring you almost every time he grabs the sponge and starts washing your back.

He learned what face masks were and will only do them about once every 2 months but you have to cut out the part where his scar is because it gets irritated easily.

I believe that his parents didn't help care for his burns so they haven't healed well. For that reason, he is very hesitant to let you help care for the burns. You put some medicated creams on them that make them not hurt and he kisses you all over your face.

CUDDLES ALL THE TIME. Since he is so clingy, you guys cuddle all the time. At first, he was hesitant to hold you in fear that you would be scared of him or push him away. After showing him that you don’t mind cuddles, that was all the answer he needed to jump into bed with you and hold you all night. That was the best sleep he had gotten in 20 years.

Although he expects you to do everything for him, he learns after a while (and a couple arguments) that he also needs to do things to help out. He starts by being your assistant in the kitchen and you both learn that he is a very good cook. Then he helps out with cleaning and tidying. He doesn’t like it that much but he gets to spend time with you and even go outside so he’ll do it anyways.

This man does not know how to shave. Period. You show him how to trim his beard and chest hair. You even do it for him the first couple of times but soon tell him that he has to do it himself (even though he makes you stand in the bathroom with him while he does it).

He lets you leave the house to go shopping for clothes and food that Malcolm doesn't bring, once a month. He tells you what he likes to wear and if he doesn’t like something, he will let you know immediately. He likes to wear neutral colors like tans and brown. He does have a couple pairs of sweatpants that you got him as pajamas that he wears all the time.

You read to him when he’s upset because it’s the only way to make him not be a total asshole to you. He loves you very much but when he’s upset or jealous, it’s best to let him roam the walls and stay your separate ways.

Fixing the holes in his cardigan. He loves that green cardigan and wears it all the time (even when its hot). You don’t mind though because it looks hot on him.

He trusts you but still wears the mask most of the time around you, besides sleeping, showering and eating.

I saw from another person that they head cannon that he does not sit still when eating and I 100% believe that. One minute you set down his plate of food and turn around for a napkin and he’s gone. He’s off wandering the walls and chewing. You hear his loud footsteps through the library and then the parlor. When he’s done though, he always comes back and tells you it was good and puts his plate in the sink.

729 notes • Posted 2021-10-30 04:54:40 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

7 notes · View notes

incorrectdmp · 3 years

Text

Blog Maintenance / Lack of Posting

HI so i kinda put this all in the tags of one of Drift's submissions today but i wanna actually kinda give a proper update of how i plan to go forward with this blog as DMP is coming to a close. a lil bit of this addresses something that happened last episode so HERE is your spoiler warning NOW

Okay so first things first, with Juniper's new name I am going to be going back to all the Junior tags and ADDING juniper to them. Originally i was gonna replace everything including the actual name in the quotes but bro told me not to haha. it's... a lot of maintenance and Juniper's arc is more about trying to find an identity for himself rather than distancing himself from an old name ie Charlie. going forward all quotes not explicitly pre-void will be labelled as Juniper and tagged with all three juniper/junior tags. the one person who submitted me a Juniper quote on anon, i haven't forgotten about your post. I've held onto it for a bit bc i didnt wanna have another post to deal with the name change tag so soon to the episode happening haha

Second, out of context spoilers is coming... eventually. I've had to put my regular post-episode notes on hold until i'm far enough along in my finale work i'm COMFORTABLE taking a likely 2 day venture into a task that's both time consuming and physically taxxing, and so i'm planning on rewatching the episode some time today or tomorrow to do a run for anything in OOC spoilers i wanna add before posting them

Third, I'm.... REAL sorry i haven't been posting a lot on this blog. there's a lot of reasons for that. obviously as most of y'all know as I am an official artist for DMP now i'm INCREDIBLY busy with the finale, and even though putting quotes from the backlog onto the blog or on a queue isn't terribly hard or time consuming it's also something that just slips my mind a lot. also i have a lot of anxiety surrounding my backlog getting too short, even though it's not THAT bad right now. plus, considering I know the ending of the show and a ton of my quotes have BEEN in the backlog for SOOOO long some of them may be outdated in terms of dynamics and such, and I'm not sure how many of them i'm ACTUALLY willing to post because i haven't combed through them in a while. plus a lot of the older ones just aren't as funny to me. once DMP is done and i still have the hyperfixation brainrot i may try to maintain this blog a little more until i at LEAST get through all my backlog quotes. once those are done I'll probably just post quotes as i see fit whenever i find them, instead of actively trying to maintain a backlog. i haven't had time to actively go hunting for new quotes in a long time, so that stuff will come once dmp is done, again. I wanna keep the blog running for at least a bit after DMP is done as a way to help everyone including myself with going content cold turkey, and as i'll NOT be swamped in work it'll be a good time to TRY and find new material. plus i wont have to worry about anything with dynamics changing.

as for quotes running as we lead up to the finale? i'm gonna try posting around every week or so, maybe in 5 quote batches? i'm not sure. again, lots of anxiety surrounding the shrinking backlog combined with So Much Work that i make no promises but i DO wanna at least treat yall as we enter one last mini hiatus as we're working hard behind the scenes to give yall the finale you DESERVE

#not a quote #blog maintenance #dmp #discord murder party #dmp spoilers

7 notes · View notes

curiousconch · 3 years

Text

Recovery

Chapter 9 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: As Heather is set to recover, will her relationship with Rafael follow the same path?

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song) ft. PLATONIC Dr. Ethan Ramsey

Words: 1.4k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / themes of physical and emotional trauma

Author's Notes: This very very very angsty chapter was inspired by a favorite song of mine from Taylor Swift's 1989 album, Clean. Halfway through, I wrestled with the emotions of this chapter, and another song titled Say Something, a haunting duet by A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera helped me complete the rest of the narrative.

Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song.

Rafael watched from a distance as the doctors scrambled to revive her back to life.

Seeing her actually slip away terrified him. But what was more horrific is how he could only watch on helplessly, with no ability to come to her rescue. It shook him to the core.

For so long he believed that he can be her own personal savior, her superman. But during the most crucial of times, the sinking knowledge that he simply can't fulfill the one promise he made gnawed at him life a nightmare coming to life.

The fact that he himself had inflicted a deep wound on her heart just a few days ago crushed him all the more.

He had no right to be here, he realized. He had already gave up that privilege on the day he chose his ego over her. It was when he decided to fulfill his fantasy of being someone else's hero, rather than coming to terms with the truth that she will never need him the way he wanted to.

Even when the flashback of them at Donahues, where he asked her to consider taking him back, nipped at his already guilt-ridden heart. The sheer audacity of him to demand that from her, only a selfish person without care would ask someone to do that.

The illusion that he hold onto for so long crumbled into dust. With it, was his determination to cling to what once was.

"She's going to be okay, Raf," his silent torment was interrupted by Elijah, who approached him in the corner of the room.

He looked up to him, then to the direction where she was laid down, and heard the merciful evenly-paced beep of the heart rate monitor.

Relief washed over him. She lived.

He quietly mouthed a thank you to Dr. Greene. When he was left alone yet again, he ruminated at the stormy thoughts that filled his head.

She has suffered enough heartache for a lifetime. And for him to continue to pursue her is to only prolong her trauma and heartache over his actions. For them, there was no recovery.

Today was not a chance to begin again. It was a chance to make it right and finally give up.

It was then that he decided, it was time to let her go.

***

Heather woke up as she was wheeled into the hospital room. The white fluorescent light made her eyes flicker, her vision trying to adjust to the sudden brightness after a long stay in the dark.

A baritone voice boomed into the quiet, jolting her consciousness awake.

"Well, you put up a mighty fight today, Rookie."

Heather couldn't help a snicker, her vision darting around to sought out the speaker.

"I had to, or you'll probably chase me to the afterlife with your scalding commentary, Dr. Ramsey."

She heard him chuckle in response.

"Still snarky, I see," the attending quipped, as he approached the side of her bed and pressed a button on a remote. Slowly, her upper body raised up, as the headboard elevated. She tried to curve her lips into a smile only to feel a tingling pain, making her wince a little.

"Easy there, Dr. Song. You just went to hell and back today." Ethan said, a clipboard tucked between his fingers.

"Funny that you say that," she said. "I still feel like hell though."

Her mentor can only manage a faint smile, an endearing affection coming across his piercing blue eyes. She knew that look. It was the same kind of gaze she saw him give Dolores during her intern year. A subtle look of genuine concern which she attributed to their growing relationship as mentor and protege.

It was just a matter of seconds before that look vanished, replaced by a more formal version.

"It's going to be a couple of days of recovery for you," he explained. "You suffered from severe hyperkalemia, which, with the help of your friend from the DA, we have managed to de-escalate as soon as possible."

Heather couldn't help but blink at what was just mentioned. "I'm sorry, my friend from the DA?"

"Yes, ADA Lahela was able to identify the correct chemical compound within the first half hour after you arrived here," he paused as he checked the flow of her IV. "It aided us to do the proper intervention in the nick of time."

He was right. Anymore than 30 minutes into the system, potassium chloride would have bound to the blood cells and would have caused permanent, if not fatal damage in her system.

She'll have to thank Bryce the first chance she gets. Her memories went back to their last conversation, and she shivered at the unavoidable confrontation that will take place.

Her hands trailed up to her temple, where she felt a bandage. She recalled her fall, thinking it was how she got wounded.

"Ah, yes. We're going to do an MRI for that, just to make sure we're not missing anything else. But apart from that, you'll do alright." He concluded.

"Thanks Dr. Ramsey," her appreciation was sincere.

He nodded. He was about to express something else, when a knock on the door hindered him.

Both of them swiveled at the visitor. Heather swallowed hard as the dark brown eyes looked back at her, the familiar figure standing by the doorway.

"May I come in?" Rafael said with a hint of hesitation as he put a foot forward.

Ethan Ramsey twisted his gaze back to Heather, checking if he would allow the young man in. Although he saw her body tense, she lightly nodded.

"Sure, Agent Aveiro. We're just about finished here." the attending gently patted Heather's hand. "I'll see you in the morning, Rookie."

When Dr. Ramsey departed, Raf made his way towards her, as if in a daze. Heather bit her lower lip and touched the tips of her brunette fringes. The thin tube of the IV tangled in her arm giving her an excuse to avert her eyes away from his for a few seconds.

"Are you doing alright?" Raf asked, taking a seat on the standard-issued metal chair beside her bed.

"Yeah, I'm okay, I've been through worse." she mumbled, almost whispering.

A sharp pang of contrition reverberated within him, unsure of which ordeal she just called as a better alternative than what she just went through. Although his adultery was probably a main contender.

His head bowed low as if navigating through the warring indecision between his heart and mind. While distracted, a soft pitter-patter of rain slid against the glass window. It was as if nature was conspiring against him, yet another heaven-given sign that their end was inevitable.

How can ending a relationship be made easier? There was no path that would prove to be less difficult, except for an admission of the truth. The least hurtful road to traverse is the turn towards an honest confession that what they had has intersected with their own definition of their limits.

Rafael cleared his throat, the noise making Heather face him.

"Heather," he began. "I know I promised to be the person who you can turn to, anytime you needed." His lips quivered, fumbling with the right words to say.

"But I broke that," he simply said, reaching for her hands and lacing it with his. His head dropped so low in between his shoulders that his cheek touched the fabric of her hospital blanket.

Her eyes shone as she slowly took in his words, soaking in the finality of the tone he uttered them with. When she survived her kidnapping tonight, she initially thought she won a battle. But only hours after, they were losing the war.

Rafael's tears soaked through the white sheet, like the rain that drowned the street outside the sullen, sterile hospital room. His muffled groans of defeat echoed through the silence that crawled in between. Although his heart burst in a million shards, deep down he knew it was ultimately for the best.

They couldn't remember how long they stayed still. Eventually, he lifted his head where his gaze fell upon the softness of her features. His thumb gently grazed her cheek, asking for permission. She nodded, an unspoken agreement similar to what she used to give him before.

In a heartbeat, their lips met, savouring the taste of each other, fully aware that this will be the very last time. The kiss was sweet, but tainted bitter by their unspoken farewell. When they pulled apart, there was no question that it was the end of the road for them.

There was nothing left to say.

But before they separated, a set of amber eyes witnessed the ending of their love affair, misinterpreting it as a last ditch effort to salvage the remnants of their irreparable relationship.

The prosecutor fled from the hospital room without so much as a word, unnerved by the scene that put another blow on his own pursuit of love.

Tags: @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

***

Author's Notes 2: Although Rafael is still my OTP, what he did in the beginning of this series rendered him and Heather permanently broken. Cheating, no matter the justifications, will always be cheating. And dealing with the consequences of it, especially by the offended party, will be a hard mountain to summit. Raf chose to let Heather go, and for me, that proves that he loves Heather enough, so that he could spare her from further emotional trauma. She has more than enough to deal with now.

#open heart #open heart 2 #rafael aveiro #rafael aveiro x mc #bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #choices #pixelberry #open heart au #ethan ramsey

13 notes · View notes

radiorenjun · 4 years

Text

Hug. iv

Pairing: Liu Yangyang x Reader

Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, Bullying, Attempt Suicide and mentions of self degrading, insecurities, anxiety, negative thoughts, physical injuries.

Looking from the perspective of Liu Yangyang, the boy who bullied a girl to the point she had a scar to burden both of their lives. He lived on with a heavy heart until he finally enters college and bumps into a girl with a familiar scar and the same tattoo on her wrist as his.

Chapters: iii, iv, v

Tags: @wonho-ssi @chuu4you @fullsun-haechanie @you-cant-spell-slay-without-lay @carefreebubble @uglyratlmao @harleyblaze

Yangyang walked down the halls of his school after he was finally dismissed from his class of the day. It had been a while since he came across his supposed soulmate, even then, his life didn't change much. The college life everyone was looking forward to didn't seem as interesting as Yangyang thought.

It was just like his life in high school. He saw a few of his old classmates around the halls and majoring in music didn't seem so exciting than his brother made it out to be. Speaking of his brother , he and Ten agreed that they both should start opening up more to each other just to spend more quality time.

"What?!" Ten exclaimed in the loudest voice possible. Yangyang flinched at the loud tone after confessing what's been on his mind lately. "You got into contact with Y/N L/N again?! That's great! What happened?! Did you two made up?" Ten slammed his palms on the table in excitement.

The bright smile stretched across his brothers face made the memory of his sad smile with bruised lip from back when he was still young flashed his mind. Yangyang winced at the memory before avoiding his brother's eyes.

Yangyang gulped down a chunk of egg yolk before continuing his story. "Nothing much happened, we just came across each other in the same building. And well..." Yangyang paused briefly, biting his lip anxiously as he tried not to eye the mark on his wrist.

"Well?" Ten waited for Yangyang to continue. Yangyang silently tugged on the sleeves of his baggy black hoodie down to reveal his soulmate tattoo, laying his wrist in the table. Ten's eyes darted from Yangyang's to his wrist in confusion before it all clicked.

"Holy. Fuck." Ten gasped, realizing what it meant. Yangyang shushed his brother loudly, putting a finger to his lips, making the sleeves of his hoodie fall down to hide the mark once again. "Ten, you idiot! Chenle's right down the hall!" Yangyang scolded.

"You two are soulmates?!" Ten squealed. Yangyang put his head in his palms in embarrassment, "dont remind me." he mumbled. "Thats-wow. I literally have no words, right now. So what was her reaction?" Ten asked eagerly.

"Well I- I didn't exactly tell her that. I don't think she knows. I don't want her to." Yangyang shook his head profusely, putting his hands in his hoodie pockets to clench his fists. "What? Why?" Ten whined. "Why? Why?! Oh I don't know, Ten, how would you feel if your soulmate is suddenly the kid who bullied you mercilessly back when you were 12?!" Yangyang snapped.

"Okay I get that part but this is your soulmate we're talking bout. They're supposed to love you no matter what!" Ten reasoned. "You dont understand!" Yangyang barked. "She's better off having no soulmate than having her old bully as a soulmate." Yangyang calmed down slightly.

"You don't understand, Ten. This isnt like your relationship with your soulmate. You didn't bully her when you were kids." Yangyang hissed harshly. Ten winced at the mention of his soulmate who had previously passed away.

"Dont bring her into this, Liu Yangyang." Ten snapped, glaring daggers into Yangyangs eyes. "She's your soulmate whether you both want it or not. Your her soulmate whether you feel guilty or not. When the time comes you two will eventually be together, that's how the world works. Okay, kid?" he lectured.

Yangyang felt the pain in his chest tighten. Sighing in defeat, he knew he couldn't battle with fate itself so he did nothing but nodded. "Okay." Yangyang sighed, unclenching his fists. Ten huffed grabbing his plate and walking towards the sink.

"Im sorry for bringing her into this." Yangyang muttered, he hated the thought of his family getting hurt.

"I was just-"

"It's fine. Just promise me you'll talk when something's bothering you." Ten said without giving his brother a single glance. "Okay, baby Yangyang?" Ten grinned, turning his head to his brother who gave him a frown. "Baby- Im not your baby. I'm going to college next month." Yangyang deadpanned.

"Still."

Yangyang walked passed the crowded halls filled with students. His eyes focused on the ground to avoid eye contact, it seemed as if his ears had blurred out all the sounds around him. He felt numb. Yangyang decided that he would walk by the park to get some fresh air before picking up Chenle from his tuitions.

Yangyang walked down the park to see the oh-so-familiar siamese cat that he and Ten rescued months ago, which ran away the moment it saw that Ten was carrying a bucket full of water to bathe the dirty thing despite Yangyang's protests.

"Hey, I remember you." Yangyang spoke softly, kneeling down to brush his fingers against the cat's thin yet fluffy fur. The small creature purred in response as Yangyang gently caressed it's head with his thumb, scratching the underside of its chin.

"How are you, buddy?" Yangyang smiled as the cat stared up at him. "What are you doing here you little rascal?" he giggled to himself. He was too indulged in the cat's hypnotising blue eyes to realise that someone had been coming towards him.

The person kneeled down infront of him, the moment their eyes met with Yangyang. The boy jumped back in surprise, "oh, Y/n!" his body tense at the sight of the girl carrying a small package of cat food. Y/n blushed at the sight of Yangyang, waving shyly before kneeling down to squeeze out some food infront of the cat.

Yangyang avoided her gaze when she patted the small cat's head before pulling out a notebook from her saddlebag, quickly writing down on it before showing it to Yangyang. His eyes widened slightly at the gesture, slowly taking the book in his hands to read what's written.

'Is Yumyum yours?' it read.

"Yumyum?" Yangyang asked, furrowing his brows before looking at the cat, not noticing the flushed look that spread all over the girl's face. "Is that what you name him?" he chuckled, caressing his fingers over the small creature's messy fur as he handed over the girl's notebook back to her.

"No, he's not." he replied, a small smile stretching across his face. "My brother and I found him a couple months ago all wounded. When he got better, he just ran away before we could give him a proper bath." Yangyang chuckled at the memory.

Y/n started writing down quickly on her notebook, the sound of lead scratching on the surface of paper filling their ears as they ignored the people around them. Yangyang looked up, getting a moment to look at his soulmate's appearance as she writes.

The sunlight reflecting on her eyes made it seem as if he was seeing stars in the night sky. Her lips formed into a small pout as she wrote, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Her hair framing her face, exposing her features.

He was brought back to his senses when he realised that y/n was staring back at him in concern, her fingers snapping infront of his face. "Sorry, I was daydreaming." he mumbled, attempting to avoid her gaze by looking down at the cat which was finishing it's meal. He could feel heat taking over his face as Y/n brought her notebook to his line of vision, gesturing for him to read it.

'Not to be rude but, what are you doing here?'

Yangyang let out a soft sigh, sitting down on the concrete with his legs crossed after he put down his violin case carefully on the floor along with his bag. "I just wanted to take a walk before I pick up my cousin from school, then this little guy caught my eye" he replied with a smile. Y/n nodded slowly, her mouth forming a silent 'oh'.

"What are you doing here?" Yangyang asked after a pregnant pause, intertwining his fingers together and laying them on his lap as he stared up at her curiously. Y/n bit her lip before writing down in her notebook once again.

'I started coming here every Friday to feed Yumyum. I like to have sometime after a long week of school.'

"Is being an art major that hard?" he asked, feeling his body relax as he continued to have a conversation with her. Everything felt as if it was meant to be. Y/n was surprisingly nice to talk to, even though she was slightly shy to talk to the person she hasn't seen in years.

Yangyang forgot all bout the tension between them. Her hand pushing against his shoulder when he let out a corny joke, his smile widens as she let's out a silent giggle against her palm. It felt so natural talking to her. As if they had been good friends their whole lives. As if he had never hurted her. As if it didn't feel like a punishment nor a curse to be bounded together by a mark.

Yangyang's eyes widened at the thought, his body tensed up immediately. "I-uh" he stuttered, grabbing his violin case and his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. His hand going over to his left sleeve, tugging it over his fingers behind his back as he stood up abruptly.

"I j-just remembered I gotta pick up my cousin." Yangyang stammered nervously, his heart felt heavy again as he avoided y/n's eyes laced with concern. "I-Im sorry. I h-have to go. I-I'll see you around c-campus," he bit his lip, avoiding her gaze before walking away as fast as he could.

He felt his heart ache as memories flooded his head. 'Shit,' he thought. Flashbacks of him pushing and kicking the young girl, his brother's bruised lip and the bullying he endured fluttered through his mind. He grabbed the waterbottle from his backpack, chugging down some water to calm down.

Yangyang sat alone at the table of the cafeteria like always, mindlessly eating his food. His eyes wandered around the room, gaze falling at the innocent girl with the scar on her lips smiling happily in a table surrounded by her friends.

He sighed at the sight of her, leaning his face against his palm. The sunlight shining on her form making her aura brighter as she let out silent laughs and scribble quickly on her notebook. It felt nice to see the young girl get along with so many people.

Yangyang looked down at his food, playing with food once again. He pondered if this is what life would've been for y/n if he hadn't come into the picture. He wondered if he would be sitting in the same table as her if he hadn't kicked that ball towards her.

Yangyang's thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone pull the two chairs infront of him, two boys filling in the empty spaces. "Liu Yangyang right? The German violin kid who's also in Professor Zhou's class?" the boy who looks as if he came from the sports department.

Yangyang raised his brow, nodding hesitantly. "Great, I'm Guanheng. You can call me Hendery, if you like. This is Xuxi." the other boy introduced, his forearm laying on the table as his other hand pointed towards his friend who waved with a toothy smile in response.

"In case you didn't know. We, too, are also in the same class as you." Hendery smiled. Yangyang nodded in confusion, not seeing why they're sitting infront of him, eyes wandering from theirs to his soulmate's form. "Look, we know that the music project could be done solo and all. But-"

"We need your help!" Xuxi slammed his hands on the table, making Yangyang flinch in shock. Yangyang's eyes widened in surprise before sparing a glance at y/n who was still calmly communicating with her friends.

"What do you need my help for?" Yangyang spoke, raising his brow as he meet their nervous eyes and awkward smiles. "We wanted to do a duet for the project. Then our dumb asses realised we can't play instruments for shit." Xuxi explained.

"So you need my help to be your instrumentals?" Yangyang questioned, raising his brow. "Yes," the two boys said in unison, letting out similar cheeky grins. "Why should I help you guys exactly? I don't even know you guys that well." Yangyang went on.

"He's got a point." Xuxi mumbled to Hendery, only to get shoved by the shoulder. "Come on, we could be your friends! No offense, the table seems empty." Hendery smiled innocently. "I'm good," Yangyang mumbled, going back to his food with his eyes occasionally glancing back at the girl a couple tables away from them.

"Come on, we'll do anything!" Lucas nagged. "Yeah, what you want, Liu? Money? Cheat answers to the exams?" Hendery went on. Yangyang couldn't be bothered to even consider a word they were offering, for he was too busy gazing into the radiant beauty that is his soulmate.

"Yangyang? You listening?" Hendery asked once he realised Yangyang wasn't listening to a word he said. Both boys turned their backs, following Yangyang's eyes to the girl in sight. "Ooh," Xuxi grinned, giving Hendery a knowing smirk.

"Wow man. Didn't know you'd be the type to like someone other than your soulmate but I'll do the job for you-" Xuxi stood up from his chair, causing Yangyang's eyes to widen in panic. He stood up abruptly and reached out to grip his shoulder to stop Xuxi from taking a step further.

He watched as the girls began to stand up and leave the cafeteria. Yangyang let out a sigh of relief before glaring at the two boys, "dont you dare talk to her. I'll join your group, just-" he paused with a click of his tongue. "Just don't talk to her." Yangyang growled, pushing Xuxi's shoulder away before picking up his bag and gripped the case of his violin, leaving without another word.

He jogged out of the cafeteria, ignoring the two boy's loud voices of questioning when to meet up to practice for the project. Yangyang slowed down once he felt like he had gone far enough from the cafeteria, taking small breaths as he walked down the hall.

He stopped when he saw a familiar girl sitting all alone in a table with a pencil hanging on the top of her ears, a ruler in her hand and a piece of paper in their other. Brows furrowed in concentration, tongue slightly stuck out.

Yangyang smiled to himself at the sight of how cute she looked, leaning to get a better look of her expression. But he was soon interuppted by a male stepping into his line of vision, he looked around his age. "Who are you?" the male spoke in a rude tone.

Yangyang took a step back in surprise before stuttering out, "I-I just came here t-to talk to y/n." The male raised a brow in suspicion, frowning as he crossed his arms. "What? Are you like, her friend or something?" he asked.

Yangyang didn't know how to respond. Was he her friend? Or was he still that same bully in her eyes? "I-" he was cut off with a click of the male's tongue. "Thought so," the male then rudely shut the door to his face, leaving a baffled and flustered Yangyang standing in the hallway in confusion.

Yangyang ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He couldn't get this note right for tomorrow's solo presentation, he took a long sip of his Americano, clearing his throat before starting to play once again.

The sound of his violin echoing through the small room, once again. Yangyang's tired eyes never wandering away from the music sheet displayed before him. His mind concentrated on the notes to realise that a girl had walked into the music room.

The sound of a chair grinding against the tile caused Yangyang to jump back in shock, looking back in relief to see y/n placing the chair back to its original place. "Y/n?" Yangyang raised his brow in confusion. "What are you doing here? Curfew's in half an hour." Yangyang asked.

The girl smiled, quickly writing in her notebook and shoving it to the distressed boy's face.

'I was done with my assignment for today, I was heading back to the dorms to hear the beautiful melody of a violin. What are you still doing here?'

Yangyang bit his lip slightly, smiling up at her shyly. "Same here, I just kept getting these notes wrong. I need to get them done before tomorrow," Yangyang explained, scratching the back of his neck with one hand and pointing at the music sheet displayed with his bow in the other.

Y/n nodded, looking around the music room to observe the instruments around them. Yangyang put his violin back in its case, trying to ease his heart rate as he felt his heartstrings being tugged with every movement the girl made.

His left wrist ached to touch hers, but occupied it with tidying up his things and putting them into his case and bag. "Um, I'm closing up soon. You wanna walk back to the dorms together?" Yangyang asked hesitantly, swinging his bag over his shoulder as his eyes wandered to his feet to avoid eye contact.

Y/n nodded, walking out of the room, clutching her notebook in her hands as she waited for Yangyang to lock up the room and walk down the halls together. There was an awkward tension in the atmosphere around them as they didn't know what to talk bout.

Yangyang gulped internally, putting down his violin case as he closed the door, turning the key twice and ensuring the door is locked. Yangyang didn't notice y/n's eyes wandering curiously down his tall form, how his hair was tussled and messy from his fingers running through it I'm frustration.

How his lips were plump and sucked in between his teeth nervously. His freshly dyed brown hair. The baggy sweater making him look casually aesthetic. Y/n knew it's wrong to be looking at her friend like this, especially if Yangyang had a soulmate.

Speaking of soul mates, y/n's eyes wandered down to Yangyang's wrist. The long sleeves of his sweater barely covering the black ink mark staining the skin of his left wrist. Her eyes widened as she spotted two balloons, similar to the ones on hers.

When Yangyang moved away, y/n look up at his eyes which were filled with nervousness. He coughed lightly to release the awkward tension, "let's go." he mumbled shyly, turning to walk to the direction of the dorms before he was held back by a small hand wrapped around his forearm.

Yangyang's eyes widened as he looked back, looking down at the fingers gripping his white sweater tightly as to not make him leave. His eyes hesitantly looked at her own. Yangyang felt like he was going to melt at the sight of her eyebrows furrowed cutely. "Y/n?"

The hand that was on his forearm went down the his wrist, right below his tattoo. She lifted it up, tugging down the sleeves which made Yangyang's eyes widen. "Wait, no-" he stuttered out, trying to tug his wrist out of her grip before she could see the mark.

Unfortunately, he didn't realise how hard he was pulling. With the sheer amount of force he applied to pulling back his wrist, he made the girl fall forwards to the floor, eliciting a small broken hoarse squeak from the girl. "Oh my God, Y/n," Yangyang gasped out, realising his mistake.

His heart clenched. Once again,that excruciating feeling in his chest appeared. He couldn't make himself move to help you get up and once you do, you were looking at him with such concerned eyes, his guilt increased tenfold.

"I-Im sorry, I have to go" were the last words Yangyang stuttered out before sprinting out of there. Trying to go somewhere to clear his clouded mind, leaving his soulmate standing there in confusion. Yangyang took a deep breath as he barged into his dorm room, not caring the questions his roommates bombarded him as he quickly went to his room.

'Life couldn't get any shittier'

A/n: hey! This took me so long forgive me for the delay. I'll probably release the next chapter sooner than later so keep an eye out for that. Sorry for those who waited for so long for this lol. I realised its 12:40 AM and I'm on 10% and there's a chance that I have a quiz tomorrow that I have not studied for. Wml

Btw

#hug.#yangyang angst #wayv yangyang #nct yangyang #yangyang x reader #yangyang #nct angst #nct wayv #nct x reader #nctzen #wayv angst #wayv #wayv x reader #wayv scenarios #wayv au

100 notes · View notes

veterveter · 3 years

Text

YO MANU THIS FINALLY CAME THROUGH I'LL LIKE READ AND DO COMMENTARY AND EDIT THIS LATER BUT I WANTED TO POST IT WHILE I HAD IT!!!!

Bless, tumblr finally working for you.

Anyway, here's the post from @delirious-and-slightly-murderous

So seeing as Tumblr hates me, I'm trying this darling, hope it reaches you.

So just read rat king.

[You should all totally read rat king if you haven't yet, it's fun I promise :) But also read Manu's commentary on it!!]

Tuuli I hope you know I love you and completely adore you and I am in awe of you but right now I HATE YOU.

You broke me AGAIN. And I was just mending myself.

This was great and beautiful and fantastic and completely awful and the worst thing I've ever seen in my life.

I'm crying.

So now I'm going to make a habit of coming to scream at you on tumblr every time you post something.

You already know how I feel about your characterization and Andrés' POV and the angst. So there, it applies here too.

Here we go you awful and magnificent goddess.

“Martín,” Sergio clarified, moving up his glasses, the prescription of which was much too weak for his continuously worsening eyesight, “I think you should stop sleeping with him: Yes, Segio and his judgement. That couldn't not be there. But Andrés and Martín are sleeping together? I know this is going to hurt.

Martín was a constant in his life, something carried over from before. Martín? Martín wasn’t a problem; Martín was the only one thing that was good: at least here he appreciates him. Thank god.

Before, he would have found some entirely healthier way of loving his soulmate. Maybe they would have even had an old-world relationship, eventually. Andrés felt like he might have liked that, once. He knew Martín would have loved it: 😭 I want this for them and it hurts that it's simply not going to happen. I'm afraid of the MCD tag, Tuuliiiiiiiiiiii! Who did you kill, you murderous genius?

Andrés needed Martín, desperately. Too desperately to love him the way he should have: I'm going to die. He could at least try but nooooo, god forbid the day Andrés de Fonollosa makes things simple for anyone.

Andrés could see the way orgasms had loosened some of the tensions that so often gripped his body, and he hoped Sergio could too.😏

If Andrés had to choose only one, he would have certainly chosen— : repressed asshole. I hope that was going to end with the word Martín. Why are you even getting married? What's even the point. But I see Andrés will continue to be emotionally stunted even when the world is ending.

Martín and Sergio had gotten along well, before. Andrés could remember so many pleasant evenings, just the three of them and a bottle of wine. But ever since they had to move to this base, the tensions had been palpable. They were both desperately trying to keep them alive, but were constantly disagreeing on the how: I'm starting to like Sergio more than Andrés here, how is that possible? How? See what you do Tuuli?

He turned around at the doorway and left the room, because he had no doubts about it: they would listen to him: Andresito, you are being too egocentric, this is not going to end well, for anyone.

Andrés understood just enough to know he was proud.: I don't know how to feel about this Andrés. I can't.

Andrés always tried not to take the slights of this brave new world personally – it was cruel, but they all had to endure loss of unspeakable magnitude – but this? Having to choose between his Martín and his brother?: Oh no, Oh no, NO. This isn't fair. Why do I get the terrible feeling we already know who he's going to choose? Please DON'T do this.

Andrés knew with unwavering certainty that either one of them would be willing to do it, and that they would consider it a great big favour to Andrés, and not the horrifying curse it truly was. He was the one who would have to pay the ultimate price, and live, knowing how much it had cost: Everything always has to be about you, doesn't it Andrés. You fucking deserve it.

Andrés could appreciate such a malleable room, because it reminded him of Martín, who always became what Andrés needed him to be.😡😭💔

Martín had never cared about plants, before. Actually, he seemed to have held a certain disdain for them. He had always said they were stupid and lifeless. Now he was looking at these ones, their lifeline, and he was filled with reverence and sorrow. If Andrés could have given him one thing, he would have liked to return to him his complete disregard for flora, and all the things it had since then come to imply: This hurts, and not only for obvious reasons. But nature? Fuck right in the feels.

Martín was entirely too pretty to look like this. They hadn’t even been having sex, because suddenly Martín looked like his eternally calcium-deficient bones might now break from the strain. Pretty Martín yeah! And you are a genius. Now this is my official headcanon as to why Martín drinks milk, he has fragile bones, the poor baby.

The weird walking corpse at the table smiled, and it almost made him resemble Martín.: He's already halfway dead. The MCD tag is him isn't it? I hate you Tuuli.

Andrés had to remind himself that he was lucky to have this. He may have had so many better things, before, but now he had this, and that was good. They had it better than most, him and Martín, for they had each other. Andrés still had his brother, and now he would have his wife, too. He was lucky: Not for long, buddy. And you deserve it. Poor Sergio I normally hate him but gosh.

“No,” Andrés said without waiting for a single beat, because he couldn’t let Sergio think he considered it. Even though he almost— “No, I don’t. I want you two, both of you, to figure out a way. A different way.”: He loves them both and he accepts it? Why does the world have to be ending.

Andrés tried not to think too much about Martín from before, but sometimes he did anyway. That night, as he wrapped his arms around Martín’s pathetic, weak and shivering frame, he thought about his true soulmate, the one this body had once belonged to.: Now I understand Martín sacrificing himself is the only way. He's already dead. And because of Andrés no less. How tragic.

Andrés had never said it back.

That night, he didn’t say it back.: Now Martín is going to die and it'll be horrible isn't it? Tuuli I want to murder you.

I’m so sorry, Andrés,” Sergio said quietly, slowly reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder.

Andrés recoiled from it, sharply. “No,” he snapped, “No. We are all going to die. Say those words, Sergio. We are all going to die.” He had made his peace with death long ago. There were worse things, many things so much more horrifying—

“We are not all going to die,” Sergio said, “The generator—” His words were cut off by Andrés’s hand on his throat, squeezing.: You are the king of denial, bad decision, being stupid, emotionaly stunned and not appreciating your soulmate enough Andrés. You deserve all the pain.

“He doesn’t deserve that,” Andrés said, his voice breaking again as he thought of it, Martín’s body, his corpse, frozen and preserved like that for as long as they would live. Martín, out there, while Andrés was in here, unable to ever go and give him even a proper burial. He had always been able to give Martín so little, and in death he would fail him yet again: I really have no words for this. But Martín being forever preserved out there and Andrés knowing that and not being able to mourn him. That is genius and it hurts and it's the perfect ending for them.

Andrés had never told him. Not once. How could he be certain that Martín had known? How could he insist that Martín, the brightest of them all, had known, when Andrés had never told him? Martín operated in words – how could Andrés have forced him to read his love in a language he didn’t even speak?: Now you confront your feelings too late, like always you repressed asshole. You deserve all the pain.

God, he wished Martín hadn’t been so bright. That he had been an idiot, dim-witted and slow like the rest of them.

Then the two of them would have let all of humanity perish.: You already murdered me with 'stay a while' and now this. Tuuli I'm coming back as a vengeful ghost and haunting your perfect ass.

So yeah, I don't have words but that's what I could spit out.

And Tuuli, you know the thing I showed you about the spider? Well when I finished reading this I was crying and wailing. My professor came running because he thought it was another spider or something even worse like a serpent.

When he asked what was going on I was in such a state I could only say 'rat' like a dumbass.

RAT.

Like seriously? And when he asked again I said Rat king fic and pointed vaguely to my phone.

He thought I was talking about an actual rat.

So imagine this. We are there, at night (in Costa Rica nightfall is around 6:00pm all year round, so now it's 9:00pm and here in the tropical rainforest it gets Dark), camping in the middle of nowhere in the wild with a tropical storm falling over our heads and I start crying about Rats.

Congratulations Tuuli, you put me in such a state that I managed to send the whole of 9 biologists into a frenzy, frantically checking out the tents over an imaginary giant rat.

It was literally terror in the jungle.

I wanted the earth to shallow me. I didn't know how to explain that all that circus was because of a fucking fic.

I think now I no longer have satelital internet rights.

I hate you.

(P.S: But don't worry I still absolutely adore you, even if now I am the laughing stock of my fellows 🥰😘♥️)

Here have my friend the spider to show how I'm feeling.

3 notes · View notes

80s-roger · 4 years

Text

Not On My Watch (pt 5)

Pairing: Dad!Roger x Mum!Reader

summary: you’re divorced with queen’s roger taylor due to constant cheating and irrational behaviour towards you. but u have one person in common: your daughter, Laura aka your favourite human on earth. Your marriage with roger had its ups and downs but laura was the happiness in it. Now that she’s 8 and starts to realise how your terms with roger are, you finally tell her that you’re seeing another man except her father and she took it really warmly. She seemed excited to meet the new man unlikely your ex husband who accidentally learns about it by Laura, the weekend you would leave her at his place: on weekends you had some cute getaways with R/N because the court decided that Laura could stay or visit her dad on weekends and stay with him for five days each Christmas and easter vacations. On summers he has the right to be with her for two weeks.

check: masterlist // dialogue prompts

If you haven't read the previous chapters, here they are: part one // part two // part three // part four

note: it wasn’t supposed to be this specific plot, but I promise you the good one is at next one ;)

warnings: flashback scenes, angst, fluff

words: 2,849

taglist: @madeinheavxn @namelesslosers @stacymaytaylor (send me an ask or a message if you want to be tagged)

You set the table, eating like a proper family for the first time in two and a half years. Laura was extremely happy seeing her family reunited. You were telling her stories from the past, which she found intriguing and interesting. You didn't forget mentioning about Roger taking you with him on tour in the United States, a year after started dating. It was the first time you went abroad. You fell for Roger hard. Losing him made you lose yourself too.

"Wow mum, you never told me stories with dad. Fairytales are boring." She gasped after hearing your US experience.

"Why didn't you tell her stories about us?" Roger curiously asked.

"Because at the time, our marriage was going downhill. You know, so I tried to not think of you." You answered.

"Oh.." he didn't have to say something. "So Laura, do you want to hear another story of mum and me?" He asked. Meanwhile, you prepared the dishes for the washing machine. Laura nodded, waiting for the narration.

Flashback

"So you're going out with Kath's friend?" Brian asked Roger.

"Yes," Roger answered while fixing himself at the mirror. "So Kath is your new girlfriend? I thought she was a groupie." He joked.

"Haha, very funny." Brian mocked him. "She's a nice company." He added.

"What about the bone zone?" The blond drummer pondered with a naughty smile on his face.

"That's good too, I don't complain." He shared a laugh with his friend. "So where will you meet her?" He questioned.

"Outside of the pub we met." He answered. "Where should I take her?" Roger nervously asked as if he never went on a date.

"Where do you take most of the girls you like?" Brian asked trying to help him think rationally.

"Bed?" He said back and gained an eye roll from Brian. "But Y/N is so hard to get, I don't know. I'm afraid if I say something wrong she'll lose interest in any second." He mumbled.

"Easy Rog.." Brian tried to calm his friend down. "She agreed to go on a date with you, that's progress, right?" He continued. Roger nodded. "Which means she finds you cute or hot or I don't know how girls describe us." He chuckled at the end making the blond drummer laugh.

"Alright, maybe if I take her to some other pub where we can talk?" Roger thought again.

"Excellent. She's not like the other girls you date, Roger. She's, you know, -" Brian tried to explain what type of girl you are.

"The I-want-the-man-to-chase-me. She's screaming that." Roger described what girl you are and he was right. "It was so hard for me to get to talk with her after our gig ended, I'm even surprised she finally agreed." He added, now wearing his perfume, ready to meet you.

"She likes you, pal. Good luck!" Brian hugged his friend and Roger was on his way to meet you.

You were nervous too. You didn't want to be late. You were used to never arriving on time, but this time, it was a date with a man you liked from the first moment, as much as you denied it. There wouldn't be any other second chance with him, he'd become a famous rockstar.

"There you are!" Roger spotted you coming faster to his place.

"Shit, am I late?" You asked, checking your watch.

"No, no, I just arrived." He was waiting for you, for about ten minutes. But he came at the checkpoint a little earlier due to impatience seeing you.

"Alright then." You stopped a little to catch your breath. Your high heels hurt your feet by walking so fast. But you wanted to look beautiful. The blue dress you were wearing had Roger staring at it and you all the time.

"You look so beautiful Y/N." He gasped as he was checking you out. "Nice dress, nice heels, nice hair, nice you." He ended the compliment with a hand kiss. He really wanted you to catch feelings for him.

"Thank you, Roger." You smiled after receiving his kiss and his compliments. "Where can we go?" You asked.

"There's another pub downtown that plays jazz music and we can talk without shouting." He joked and gently grabbed your hand, opened the door for you and placed you inside.

"Oh, I like jazz." You were surprised that he was probably into jazz. You waited for him to get into his red Renault car.

"Perfect, let's go." He started the engine and nervousness hit your body. You were shaking, feeling like throwing up. A handsome guy next to you, an upcoming legend wants to go on a date with you. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked after stopping at the red traffic light. He checked your hands trembling and gently placed his on yours. "You're not cold, are you?" He asked. You can't be cold on a May night.

"No, I'm just a little nervous." You tried to keep smiling. You're not the tough girl he met a couple of days ago, but a vulnerable nineteen-year-old girl trying to find love.

Roger was feeling split: He had two options in his head. Should he take you to the pub you both agreed or somewhere isolated to talk with no one seeing. That would make you feel more uncomfortable.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked waiting for any answer. "You want me to keep driving or stop somewhere? I promise I won't do anything." He shared his ideas with you. You looked at him confused.

"Could you stop somewhere, please?" You politely asked trying to not sound bitter after your sudden mood.

"Sure, are you alright?" He asked again, trying to find any isolated place for you two.

"Yes, it happens a lot when I'm feeling nervous." You explained.

He didn't say a word. Until he found that place, behind a church, with no soul around. It seemed creepy if you consider you are on the car with a man you met a week ago. But you liked him.

"Listen, if you are feeling nervous, we can call it off." He showed empathy at you feeling awkward.

"No, I won't have another chance with you if we call it off." You got out of the car, trying to get some air. Roger followed your moves, now standing behind you.

"What do you mean?" He asked raising his hands.

"I mean you'll become famous and everything that goes with it and you'll forget about me anyways." You tried to explain.

"Why would I forget you? I like you." He straightforwardly said, sending you shivers.

"I like you too, but I don't want me to love you." You are a person full of emotions, throwing that to Roger made him feel weird.

"Why are you talking about love? This is a date, not a wedding." He objected.

"Exactly, I'm afraid if we become a girlfriend-boyfriend thing, I'll eventually love you and then things will get nasty." You could look years away. Look at you now.

"Are you nuts? I wanted to get to know you, I want to know you well, be my girlfriend, how do we call these things?" He questioned.

"Relationship." You answered turning around, to face him. "Would you like that? I wanted that for years." You asked trying to hide your desperation. But you couldn't.

"Hold on, you never had a relationship?" He asked confused, coming closer to you.

"Don't make fun of that, I never liked the boys who approached me." You admitted. You could see his eyes, sparkling from excitement because he knew now how inexperienced you were on that part. A hopeless romantic with huge fantasy.

"Well, I'd like to be the one." He smirked and grabbed his hands around your waist, pulled you into his arms and kissed your lips. Your first kiss ever. His lips harmoniously moved onto yours giving them what they needed all this time. Tenderness. "How was that?" He asked, his eyes now focused on yours.

"Amazing." You licked your lips and smiled, not feeling nervous anymore.

"Is the pub still a plan?" He asked.

"Yes." You were so hyped after your kiss you couldn't focus on anything besides Roger. His hand caught yours leading you back to his car.

Flashback ended.

"Wow, mum!" She turned to your place. "Dad was your first kiss?" She asked fully awed by the narration.

"Yes, he was." You blushed as you both looked at each other. He was fluttered by your current reaction. Your first everything.

"Oh dad, tell me more!" She begged for more stories, but it was time to leave.

"No young lady, I need to have some other memories between your mum and me." He playfully berated her. "Besides, we have to take you to Laura." You stood up from the chairs and moved towards the hall, wearing your shoes.

"Mum, will you tell me these stories instead of fairytales?' She asked while Roger helped her once more with tying her shoes.

"Yes, I will." You answered. You wanted to tell her stories about you and her father, but most of these are explicit. Not special for children.

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

Roger drove off to John's house to leave Laura. "I'll take her inside." He declared and you stayed in the car to wait.

"Daddy, what about my stuff?" She asked.

"We're going to mum's place now to take your stuff. We'll come again." He rubbed her head before knocking the door.

"Hey Roger, I was waiting for you now." He smiled at his bandmate and turned his gaze to Laura. "Hello, Laura! The other Laura waits for you inside! Come in!" He kissed her head.

"Bye, daddy!" She hugged him and walked inside the house.

"I'll come back again to bring her clothes and tomorrow's books for school," Roger said.

"Sure. I'm waiting for the details tomorrow." John winked.

"Ah, I see where you're getting with that." Roger laughed. "Just the abstract." He joked and left the grand house to come back to you.

"You have the keys to your apartment?" Roger asked you.

"Yes. And a piper spray for any case." You showed him that, referring to R/N who could wait for you around the corner.

"He won't harm you, over my dead body." He reassured you and placed a kiss on your forehead. "Shall we go?" He asked and you nodded.

There wasn't any talk during the car drive, but that didn't make it awkward. It was a peaceful silence you used to have before the dark days arrived. You couldn't hide your fear though, it was visible. Your hands were rubbing your thighs nervously. Roger, noticed your behaviour and placed his hand on yours. "It's going to be alright. That's why I'm here, with you." He placed his head on yours, giving you a reassuring kiss. You hugged him in return, feeling his scent against your senses. He smelled amazing. His perfume combined with nicotine was what you could characterize him.

You opened your apartment's door, seeing the inside of the house upside down. You knew he would fuck it up. All you could think of was who's going to clean this mess?

"Oh God-" you gasped and closed the door behind you.

"Y/N, don't worry we'll fix this mess together." He reassured you. "Do you think he did it on purpose?" He asked trying to figure out what was R/N's intent.

"Shit." You gasped again, looking at your ex-husband horrified.

"What?" He asked after seeing you turning pale.

"FUCK." You yelled, running to Laura's bedroom, looking for your diary. He knew about it.

You searched for it at the place you're hiding it and thanked your lucky stars it was up there inside the pillows you keep at the closet. "Oh God, oh God, thank you!" You stared above, kicking out all your angst while holding your huge notebook. It was clever of you to hide something personal at your daughter's room, in a cupboard she never uses. Roger followed you and sat next to you.

"Y/N, you alright?" He asked placing his hand at your back. His eyes fell at the notebook you were tightly holding. "What's this?" He curiously asked and tried to hold it but you politely refused. "Oh. Is it personal?" He questioned.

"I was keeping a diary all this time." You confessed.

"A diary? How long?" He asked as he was checking all these used pages.

"Before you." You smiled and scrolled a few of your pages.

"Wow, that's a lot..." he was amused. "So I guess I'm in there, aren't I?" He asked checking for assurance.

"Don't guess. Be sure." You smiled.

"Can I see just one page please?" He politely asked.

"I'll show you my favourite." You seemed too excited to get to a specific page.

Roger next to you was smiling through the entire process, trying to read while pages were fastly zapping, until you stopped somewhere from the first twenty pages. He focused on your point of view, trying to understand what you were writing about.

"Oh, your first time." He awed. After reading the sentence: my heart was beating so fast at the moment he was inside me, even my soul could see his, from our eyes. "I didn't know you were so sentimental about it." His cheeks blushed from everything you wrote.

"Of course I was, it was my first time. I loved you, Roger." You opened your heart to him for one more time. His eyes were wide opened. It was the first time he got to hear from you how you really felt about your first time. He continued reading to the next day, how you behaved after your first time.

It had to happen right? Or not? My parents are going to kill me. It should have happened after marriage. That's what they've been saying all my life. I love Roger but he would never settle for a wedding. He's a rockstar now, he would probably abandon me if I ask him to marry me. I have to keep it a secret.

"Y/N, you never told me that your parents are against sex before the wedding." He was shocked at what you were writing.

"I know, I had to do it, otherwise you'd break up with me. I didn't want that at the time." You said feeling secure now that he's still by your side.

"Oh, baby..." he whispered and kept you in his arms. "Was it too important to your family to keep your virginity?" He asked.

"It was for them to keep it until my wedding night." You started. "But you know? I only wanted to give it to the man I loved so bad one summer night. And it was special for me, you made it all about me." You continued and stayed in his arms for a couple of minutes. "They always believed my first time was at our wedding."

"I think you have to take this with you. It's not safe on its own. We should grab Laura's stuff and drive them off to John's." You both stood up and put your daughter's stuff in a bag.

You got in the car again, still silent. You were just reading random pages from your diary, getting all emotional. From you meeting him, dating him, marrying him, giving birth to his child, divorcing him... You wrote many things in there. It has an emotional value. You knew by now that Roger was the only person you wouldn't bother reading it, after your permission of course, because almost every page has his name on it.

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

After giving Laura her stuff, you went back to Roger's fancy house. You were getting used to getting there. He looked like wanting to stay with you again, without including the disagreements. He opened the door and you both walked upstairs, leading to his bedroom.

"Do you think you should stay here now?" He asked.

"Why?" You returned as you placed your diary at the nightstand.

"That asshole could come to your place, any moment. You're not safe." He explained. "Maybe you should stay here. With me." He came closer to you, his face inches away from yours. You didn't say anything. Just let him do all the work for you.

His kiss was deep and his hands couldn't restrict themselves from touching your waist. These couple of days, you are much closer than you were when your marriage went downhill. You wanted to give it a chance.

"Tonight, I want you to be loud. I missed that." He stated, looking you into your eyes.

"Loud?" You asked, trying to understand his motives.

"Really loud. This is why Laura isn't here." He winked and left his room, going to the bathroom to take a shower.

"You're the filthiest man I know!" You playfully yelled at him.

"Oh, I know love!" He loudly answered from the bathroom and so on, you went downstairs to fix two glasses of red wine. Chilling situations like these, haven't happened since Laura was a baby.

#roger taylor #Roger Meddows Taylor #roger taylor fic #queen fic #queen band #queen #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x oc #roger taylor x female reader #roger taylor x Y/N #john deacon #freddie mercury #brian may

55 notes · View notes