#It's will be angsty but not so violent and I wanna happy ending | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

qvrcll · 10 months

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Hi! So I love your blog and I have a request if you're up for it!

So imagine Vendetta!Leon or ID!Leon with a younger, Rookie D.S.O agent. So the reader is learning about what it takes to be an agent and they are skilled but a little reckless. The reader and Leon end up going on a mission together and something happens to where the reader does something risky/reckless to save Leon and afterwards while Leon is patching them up he's also scolding them for putting themselves into a dangerous situation...

I just thought it was a cute idea and I adore your blog so obviously no pressure and thank you regardless! :)

change

summary: training to be a d.s.o agent has its perks and its fair share of dangers, and who would know that best other than the acclaimed leon s. kennedy? former rookie cop turned myth, you’re troubled as you try to not question your worth to your duty — to him.

warnings: intense violent imagery, d.s.o. agent reader, talk of death / loss, talk of wounds / stabbing, weapons mentioned, angst (comfort i swear!!!!!!!), written with infinite darkness ! leon in mind

a/n: bam stop using deftones songs as titles FAILED. and hello??? ur mind??? revolutionary. but thank u so much for the request!! i did make it more angsty than intended 😭 but happy ending i swear !! this is just a general disclaimer, but i’m trying my best to get as many requests done as possible, but finding myself easily burnt out, so please bare with me if i take some time to get these pieces out!! enjoy :-)

word count: 3.5k+ (help)

You’re well put together — inundated at the seams and bursting in the areas that made you an excelling recruit, something of a common place practice when one gets appointed to a station as alpine as the D.S.O.

It’s gruelling at first. The training, not the people — the people here offer you awkward but veritable grins, cloying pats on the head when you’d surpassed a notable fix in your inculcation, maybe even conversation in places you’d expect hard worn expressions, bumps of the shoulders, a lack of acquiescence for a new comer such as you.

“Turns out, there’s a new donut place opening in the city” someone speaks through a mouthful of food, grinning when admonished by their peer. They look at you with tired yet cordial won eyes, something like a respite in comparison to the gruelling training and pains you endure in staple hours.

You laugh, craning backwards, replying “Really? Wanna go sometime?”

And they teem, sheen with surety as you set a date. The date passes and you’ve got your fridge brimmed with donuts — pastel, sugar coated and chockfull of profuse fillings.

You’re home. You’re staring at your laptop. The device whirrs with effort, the screen fulgent with simulated light as block words stare back at you — MULTIPLE KILLED IN GOVERNMENT ORDAINED PROJECT. SEVERAL INJURED.

The next day, you press your lips together and wait for the space ahead to be filled with a familiar face, some day old blistering talk about donut shops and parties and mandated leaves.

No one comes. You chew your bread in wanton silence.

And your days blur as usual — your attitude is unparalleled. You give yourself the credit for coarsening against such losses, of confidants who offered you their time and remaining nuance of sentience. You don’t, however, congeal like they do. You do not die or recoup.

You move senselessly and so do the days.

It’s several months later, when you’ve gathered yourself in the training room, greased with sweat and vigour, when you meet him.

Leon S. Kennedy, in the flesh.

There’s talk of him in the corridors, rumours of his barely capricious resolve and even more so of his loyalty to the D.S.O. Of his habitual reclusiveness, ordained leaves and near blank appearances.

He’s almost a myth.

Still, you’re real and working and need to cavort around your training till your muscles bleed and chalk up with pain that marks enough effort for the night — you do not want to stay a rookie forever. There’s a insecurity underscored in your brain somewhere, in bright red lines and despite the sweat of your skill in your hands, but you decide to delineate it for tonight. Try to focus on the knotty feel of the compress against your knuckles as you strengthen your feet, begin to get into a stance most up to par, a gracing thought of ‘please don’t break my bones’ pressed into the bean bag before—

“Hello?”

The addition of another voice, besides the earsplitting one in your mind, makes you falter. Makes you lose your footing and touch the target in front of you, rather than skirting it with a hard worn touch — the sight would’ve made you chuckle on a normal day. But today was not normal, it was marked with a accent of irresolutions. So you swivel on your feet, baring your teeth like the caitiff the D.S.O had disillusioned everyone into being. The pretence doesn’t fool anyone, not even yourself, but you give it a try.

And maybe you give yourself some credit, for stoking it up to the myth, the caricature of duty himself, Leon Kennedy. In the flesh, complexion enervated in his well earned stack of muscle, that seemed to be garbed with a leather jacket. Jeans.

How… normal.

You lose tension in your muscles. Ditch the shout in your brows. Abandon the faux, heavy lined bellicosity in your belly for curiosity. Some guilt and embarrassment, too.

“Leon S. Kennedy?” you gasp, feel the air hit your tongue. The room grows a faltering few degrees hotter, and some part of you is convinced you’ll sink into the floor in a matter of minutes.

But Leon offers you one of his complimentary smiles that scream business. His hands are discarded in the wide sinews of his jeans, where they are distracted and nonplussed with the goal of hurting the material with diverted fingers. Yet you linger ahead of him, visibly sweaty and awkward, and it blunders his heart with some peace that you’re biding that same level of awkwardness.

“In the flesh,” he jokes, but the room is too small, too dark to determine tone. To determine the weight of his words or his presence. You still find sentience in you to laugh, snort even, and it makes the air between a lot more genuine, “I’ve come to discuss something here with you.”

“With me?” you croak, not wanting to sound delirious but inevitably falling for the trap — what did the Leon Kennedy want to do with a single recruit that is you? Skilled, yes, but sharing the innumerable roster of missions as him? Not a chance. Still, you grab a towel and a bottle of water, finding rhythm in your step as you talk alongside him to the exit.

Slogging be damned.

He offers a small nod, resigned in a way that made sense to the both of you, “We’re to be assigned in a collaborative project. A mission, if you will,” he opens the door, allows you to step past the threshold first and doesn’t miss the way you flesh out with a terrible blush as you skitter ahead, “Nothing too out of the ordinary for agents like you and me. Just a simple clear up.”

But we are nothing alike, you want to ink the air with the words. And some part of you stiffens as you hear the intractable comparison. Still, you’re curious above all things else and hear him out — not that I can refuse, you add mentally. Scribble out with imaginable red ink.

“When will it be?” you ask, feet jittery and muscles still sheening.

“A month from now” he confirmes. You work to notice the exigent lines of wear and tear on his face, the follow of a stubble beginning to thread against his chin and jaw. The sharpness giving way to kindness in his eyes as he looks at you.

Oh god, he’s looking at you.

“I see,” you say, gaze falling to the gravel and spit of stone as you corner the exit. As the wind hits your skin, you’re pathetically assuming a shiver. You hope Leon isn’t as perceptive as the rumours pin him to be, but you never truly get anywhere with that wish — he places a warm, kind hand on your shoulder, “You’re freezing.”

“Yeah I should probably—“

“Get back?”

“Home, yeah.”

And an awkward, painfully annoying silence courses the space between you two — between you and this acclaimed proxy you barely knew prior to these graceless seconds. The better part of you ushers the thought away and the worse part of you is antsy to prove something — anything.

“Get home safe…” he offers some semblance of a tight lipped smile, again as reclusive as he can get. His back is turned to you, departing, and you’re pulled in the other direction by your feet, when you suddenly turn around.

He’s gone already.

The month beneath his guidance is as you expect it — resilient and tough on the flesh. He manoeuvres you in ways you’d never have begun to correct yourself (“Lift the end of your arms here, instead of down here.”)

He presses feeling and rigour to his praise (“That’s it — you got it. Good job — now give me 20 more.”)

He holds you back from splintering push forwards, from the bridge between you and your apex. Holds a hand against your wet shoulder to shoulder your eagerness (“Woah, woah — don’t get too ahead of yourself.”)

You make it known of your gratefulness. You buy takeout and share it on the stairs. You communicate your worries and walk out free of them.

You also hate him for rubbing raw of your potential. You hate him for the wounded look in his eyes when you falter. You hate him for the itch in his fingers when you push yourself some more.

But you keep that one for the shadows. Don’t make it known. Hide it behind falsity.

You share takeout on the stairs again.

The night before the assignment couldn’t be more gruelling.

You’re welcome by the sheets, yet find no recluse in them, as you twist and turn as the hours come. Your feet are stretched and throbbing with hurt from the range of pushing exercises from the day before, your fingers curling with effort only.

And your head is plagued. Swimming, bathed, with those reticent thoughts. Those same block letters that spoke back to you, flagged the death of thousands you knew from passing glances to remembered conversations.

You turn on your side, try to flush the thought away. But they come back with vigour, with spit.

You knew them.

You’d eaten with them.

You’ll die just the same.

Fuck this.

Your feet find the cold, hard-wood floors immediately. They’re a ridged comparison to the heat of the sheets, but a blistering reminder of what’s to come tomorrow. You pace your apartment, crowd your brain with tasks, busy your hands, till the sun flits past the clouds like routine.

And with your heart in your throat, you ready yourself to the chin, gripping yourself with the promise of doing what you must to euchre death on its own doorstep — both for you and Leon.

The day arrives with a quick start. You’re deployed in a vehicular that is smaller than anticipated, holding your fears in your hands with cupped palms. Leon sits beside you, eyes vacant of anything palpable. You’d talked once, but that’s all of what either of you offered each other up till now — now, it’s you and your fears, cut-throat and fusty, ahead of you.

A thought of your friend passes your mind.

A thought of the donut shop.

A thought of the bottom of your coffee cup.

A thought of the post-mortem images. Of the flesh. The blood. The time. The place.

“Remember,” Leon cards you out of your worst, thoughts crumbling against themselves as you swivel to glance at him, “on me at all times. No sudden moves. Got it?”

He is far more profound here, the spitting image of the rumours materialised into the skin of a battle worn agent — his tone is pebbly, no semblance of that night’s patience in it anymore.

He’s in it for good. And you should be too.

“Got it,” you reply when the seconds flow too far. He nods back, curt and sharp and you want to talk him up. Want to offer your share of strategies. Want to card through the wounds on your arm and how to avoid the bloody things. Want to loop your fingers through half of his experience and not want to set him back.

But it was never that simple. And the ride is just as silent.

Two hours in and you’re stationed against crumbling brick, jagged stone, MK-45 gripped tightly in your hands. The smell of rot, mycelium, abused your lungs. Makes you stagger forward and hold yourself by the seams like flesh on plying bone.

But when you look at Leon, he’s everything but as discomposed as you — his eyebrows are tightly drawn, a shadow to his eyes that wasn’t there prior. There’s a bite in his step, in the way he holds his weapon, in the way he surveys the area.

Get yourself together, you think.

Within minutes, you force yourself to straighten your back, swallow back the burdensome bile stretching against your mouth and prime yourself to the futile smell of the dead at every carrefour you cross.

“Ahead,” Leon speaks and clings to your attention.

You look ahead, noticing an array of groaning zombies clawing at a car that seemed to have initiated its alarm. The smell is amplified by the rub of petrol curdling out of the car (from the repeated clash of the zombies, you’re sure) and you frustrate yourself into not gagging — think ‘fucking hell, I really hate these things.’

“You go to the left, I’ll take the right,” Leon whispers and you realise his motive.

Mutual accomplishment built on the precipice of trust.

Still, he looks at you like he’ll splinter without a response.

Like he relies on this circulation, no matter how damning, how short. His eyes scream ‘don’t you dare do anything stupid’ and you choose to blur it into something nonsensical, a thought of ‘it’s common procedure, a set of instructions he needs to hand feed me’, choosing to ignore the obvious side of things, the bleeding flush of his words, the trepidation nailing every withering seam of his body.

He’d grown to interpret you as more than just a rookie, someone capable of vigour and strength of the winning.

He needed you alive.

You needed him to look at you other than a wounded animal.

You offer him some little nod, feet hurrying up to the fluster of zombies against the few cars gathered there — as you get close, you can see the vegetation cram against the side walk, the stink of flesh against the windshield.

But you’re skilled, not stupid.

Your weapon purrs with warmth in your hand as you pin down the first vier, working your second round of bullets with the other five you’ve attracted— their fractured groans are animalistic, orotund where human capability shouldn’t be.

But you’re twice the work than they ever are.

“Fuck,” you whisper, realising close proximity doesn’t hold up with your choice of weapon — so, working against better judgement, you retrieve your knife by the hilt, scoring it against the reeking flesh of the first two. You quickly gain footing and stab the other two point black in the skull, feeling the vibrating collusion fill the blade.

And you’re close — you feel it. With another plow, the last of them falters to the floor with a wet thump. Blood pools at your feet, curdles against the material of your boot as you curl a hand against your hip in weariness.

And yet, you have half the nerve to concern yourself with Leon.

As you turn, you quickly see that he is struggling. He’s cornered, stuck between a stretch of the building that allows a swift gateway of those creatures to buckle within arm’s reach. And there’s little solace as you learn the fact, as you ready your weapon — you’re aiming before you can think, firing before you can feel.

Leon spots you, as his jaw goes slack.

His voice is swollen with disbelief and you’re sure you catch the words “get out of here!” but you’re moving on the pure pump of your blood, of the stretch of muscle and skill in your body. Two, three, four enemies crumble at the bite of your bullet and your fingers sink against the sting of gunmetal.

Memorise the step of their movements.

Formulate an opening.

Ignore Leon’s snare and his warnings and the way his arms curl around his weapon and the look in his eye and the fickle hope in them and the way they look at you like you’re something wounded.

Ignore the way a grunt sounds in your ear, a pale and cleft palm clinching your shoulder like an orifice — and finally, you realise, Leon had been right.

The zombie is quick to remind you of your mortality — it swings you to the side with it’s astounding asperity, frightens you with the dexterity of its bones as it makes quick work of the distance between you. It’s teeth stitch against cold bone, blood and meat between the gaps.

You gasp out a hoarse cry — your weapon is out of reach and your arm stings with a burn, a swelter. Your leg feels numb and you’re sure you’ve caught it on something, and you’re convinced you’ll be half mauled to death, when suddenly,

“Shit!”

Leon rattles through the zombie towering you, sears it with a knife — it falls atop you like meat and you shove it off with awfully numb hands. You’re barely catching respite as Leon hauls you above his shoulder as he runs to some place else, and the world quickly melts beneath your eyelids.

The next time you’re conscious, it’s much quieter.

There’s a dripping noise from your right — you try to play with that recurring sound till you’ve figured your bearings, but the throb in your head is searing. Your leg jumps with a pain so awful you choke a cry when you’re all opened eyed and slack jaw, and you catch sight of Leon in front of you, balancing your leg atop his lap for inspection.

“L-Leon?” you gasp, feel the burn of your throat. You’ve said nothing but he quickly hands you a water bottle, and you allow yourself the contents almost immediately — “Where are we…?”

“A few ways off the target location. Recuperating,” he answers, too quick, too harsh. You wince, both from his demeanour and the growing image of your maimed leg — the skin is dented with much blood, the flesh peeling apart with ease and the pain hits you like a train. His fingers are trembling and spat with your blood, moseying around the quiver of the wound.

And you can’t figure out where your pain ends and where his anger begins.

For one, there’s some grip to his movement, in the way he bandages the broken flesh of your leg. The way he swats your hand away when you go to dictate the amount of hurt it would bring.

Only then does he look up and your breath hitches — his eyes are red rimmed, mouth set like hard stone in a frown and his jaw sharp, blistering to a furious degree.

“I’m sorry—“

“Are you? Because you would’ve been dead without me having been there” he spits out, lashing against your apologetic words. You press your lips together, a bitter feeling fermenting in every space your framework can produce.

“I said I’m sorry Leon.”

“Will that fix your wound?” He grates and his voice sounds like a threat. It worries you. It angers you. Its rends you like glass, cuts you like a skiver.

“Maybe if you didn’t look at me like a fucking wounded animal, I would quit taking my chances at dying” you force out, tone through clattering teeth when his fingers pause over that delicate and awfully repulsive spot on your leg.

“What?”

“Oh, please don’t play pretend with me Leon,” it’s your turn to hit the brakes, “It’s that look you give me — like I’m some backwater D.S.O rookie here to drag you through glass. Like—Like I’m here to get myself killed.”

You pause, breath cut short with an unsatisfactory cry as you throw your head back from the gushing pain from the wound. You crack open a weary eye to spot his movements have resumed, but his jaw is quivering, jagged, his eyes unfocused and his hair in his face.

Shit, shit, shit — I’ve really done it now.

“Wait, Leon—“

“Is that what you think this is?”

You blink — his fingers are on the ground beside your hips, his eyes flooded with disbelief. Much like earlier, only this time, it’s counterpart being woe instead of anger of disappointment. He lifts his head, cradles the anguish in his eyes with a tattered sigh and you realise, oh. You had it all wrong.

“That you’re just some agent I don’t care about?” he’s close, somehow, “that—that I care for you out of duty?” closer, now, with his breath on your neck, on your face, in your ear, “That I don’t want you gone so soon because I only tolerate you? Not because—I like you?”

Your anger drops its futile act.

“What?” you whisper, because you’re so beguiled that it’s a trick. A trick from the pump of adrenaline in you, from the fear. The sweat. But he’s looking into you, at you, and his stare is not sympathetic. It stinks of love and admiration and truth and some close call of fear.

“I’m saying that I like you.”

There’s a few moments of clouded breath. You’ve never done this before — never held this song and dance of emotion between another and certainly not at a time like this, but god, Leon looks at you like you’re something to be worshipped, not admonished like the wounded thing that you are.

He looks at you like hope.

Like love and love and love.

And you’ve never appreciated the stench of rot on you or another, and you’ve never appreciated distractions. But the burn of his lips against yours is delicious and swirling with something addictive when you meet him with nothing but rigour — he kisses you back like he’s meant to, like he’s going to run out of you if he doesn’t.

And when you pull away, groaning as your leg spasms with hurt, you smile at him gently, curve a laugh from your overworked lungs.

“Buy me dinner first, Kennedy.”

“Kennedy?”

“Would you prefer Scott?”

“God, you’re awful.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy fic

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episodeoftv · 7 months

Text

Quarterfinals: Round 6 of 8

propaganda and summaries are under the cut (May include spoilers)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: 6.07 Once More, With Feeling

tw for dealing with depression and suicidal thoughts

In this musical extravaganza, Sunnydale residents find themselves bursting into song, and flame, when a demon attempts to make Dawn his bride.

The greatest musical episode of all time! Pretty much all of the songs are unironically bangers, it's better choreographed and shot than frankly a lot of the bad movie musicals that have been inflicted on us in the past few years, and despite the goofy concept it still manages to tell an incredibly affecting story about the protagonist's struggle with depression. Pulls off an absolutely monumental tonal shift from comedic musical theatre homage to devastating emotional gut punch that manages to never feel tonally dissonant / Best musical episode ever (character development, lots of bops, and spontaneous combustion)

It is the best musical episode of any TV series. It is whimsical, but also far from filler and major plot beats happen while the characters sing jaunty little toons about them. Willow and Tara have sex. Spike gets and angsty alt rock song about his unrequited buffy crush. Buffy admits that when her friends resurrected her she was violently ripped out of heaven and doesn't wanna be on earth anymore. Spike and Buffy kiss. Its the best.

Invented musical episodes and is also one of the only good ones ever to have been made. Changed the game. Insane that it’s as good as it is.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Once_More,_with_Feeling_(Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer)

Revolutionary Girl Utena: 1.39 And Someday, Together, We'll Shine

This whole show is full of TWs here's a link.

Utena's once again betrayed by Anthy. With the prince's sword in hand, Akio attempts to open the doors of revolution while the fallen prince contemplates her and Anthy's fate.

Series finale of Utena. Makes me sob every time. The betrayal, the fact that Utena still is trying to save Anthy, Anthy's coffin, their brief touch of hands before separated, seeing a montage of all the characters, and finally, seeing Anthy leave her abuser to find Utena. It's. Perfection. It's a traditionally happy ending but so hopeful that despite the heartache I'm still happy. That I know it'll be okay.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1401511/

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #revolutionary girl utena #rgu #poll #polls #round6

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sugarpasteltmnt · 2 months

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i am currently catching up on neon void, and it is a delight to read. your descriptions of leo’s mind is mesmerizing and grabs the reader’s attention so well. it’s very diverse and unique compared to other interpretations and fics♥️

i’m curious to know what your thinking process was like while writing leo’s insanity and his own thought processes.

(spoilers for ch11) the scene that stuck out to me the most was when leo was about to infect donnie. it felt so vulnerable and raw ahh

anyways i just want to dig into your mind a little to know how it works.

keep up the great work, you are doing wonderful.

WAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH 😭😭😭 you are so sweet thank you!! 💙💗‼️and ohmigosh what a fun ask.

tbh i sat on this one for a while to think of how to dive into it-- beware of my (VERY) long ramblings below!

this question really got me Thinkin' and i kinda popped off but!! If i may indulge myself, here's sort of a wild explanation of how i approach Leo's Insane Brain for this specific fic:

does it meet R.I.S.E???

R - Realistic? I - Interesting? S - Silly? E - Existential?

R - Realistic

"How the hell do i make this sound realistic" is often an obstacle i run into. but it's also the Secret Sauce. What really gives the thought process direction. Given Leo's current situation, he's battling between what he wants and what he needs to do. Which is often a very real problem real people have. Exaggerating it helps create a fun back-and-forth dialog that can make his thoughts seem muddled.

With Leo in this fic’s setup, there are about five main key factors i rely on with his decision making:

Happiness The root of Leo’s general personification. He’s the guy who beat Krang One. The one who escaped a place worse than Hell. After years of missing home so much he’s FINALLY home. He’s drunk on happiness. He was finally home. And that relief and joy is what makes him so jubilant and goofy.

Awareness of his goal Though Rise Leo is a very funny dude, he's still a Leonardo. Throughout the series, Leo is the voice of reason when things are getting out of hand or are potentially dangerous. Leo's had nothing but time to think. Wishing what he'd done different. Wishing he had been more serious. After five years obsessing over his mistake and missing his family, the moment he see's the opportunity to make sure this never happens again he'll latch onto it. And when the stakes are high, accentuating that tension can help with frantic impact of his thinking.

His desire to see his family This desire often clashes with point number 2. Writing his internal struggle between the two helps with the “overwhelmed thoughts” vibe. It’s hard for him to choose! And he doesn’t wanna have to choose! Playing out the conflict between his 'want' vs his 'need to do' helps me bring out his nervous thinking process.

He's self-reprimanding thoughts We all love an Angsty Leo. It was hinted in the show that he had some self-esteem issues, but who doesn't love ramping it up to 11 for a fic??? That, and he was trapped with Krang this whole time. After hearing he was nothing but trash for five years PLUS the guilt of nearly ending the world, the guy doesn't exactly see himself in a great light you know? This can help clash with point 1, again helping with that 'what he wants' vs 'what he needs to do' inner conflict.

Instinct to Survive / Feral Tendencies This one is super fun. I love feral AUs/tropes. With little to no socialization in the Prison Dimension, Leo's sanity started to slip, leaving his body's natural instincts to become more profound. Plus, with the Krang Parasite, I like to exaggerate how feral/dangerous he could be outside of 'turtle' instincts. (Seeing that parasite hosts in the movie were very violent). Sprinkling in feral moments is just a delicious thrill I love adding, and it makes the insanity factor skyrocket and it's so fun to write 🩵🩵🩵

I - Interesting

Is Leo's thought process interesting to read??? Honestly, I just gun for what I think is the most interesting; Leo's relationship with his brothers (especially Raph), and the cause and effects of his shenanigans.

Also, I liked to experiment with wonky texts to help emphasize key moments or words to grab attention. Mostly because it feels like a fun surprise to read them in my opinion. Though not necessary in writing, I thought using some funky fonts might entice and excite 💙

S- Silly

THE BIG ONE!!! EVERYONE'S FAVORITE!!! 🎉🎊🥳🎉 Something I really love love love about Rise's style is that it's silly It's unique! It's fun! I love that Leo and the others are goofy and have some slap-stick moments. And I wanted to keep that with Leo despite everything. Plus, I ADORE that in this iteration of TMNT, the characters are such showmen. They are DRAMATIC. They are SILLY. And that's something I wanna celebrate!! Plus, as much as I love angst, writing nothing but pure angst is exhausting. (And I'm sure reading pure angst isn't enjoyably to everyone.) Throwing in Silly moments is like a little moment of refreshment to me 🩵

I also like to believe that Leo kept his sense of humor out of sheer SPITE. The 'wipe that stupid grin off your face' line in the movie really stuck with me. I feel like Leo would smile through his fear and still be a clown just to spite Krang One.

E - Existential

At the end of the day, Leo is dealing with a VERY big issue. I felt like the Rise movie did an excellent job portraying the severity of an alien invasion for the setting Rise had. And the weight of the situation would be too great for one person. And this is often what I refer back to to make Leo snap. A relapse in clarity of mind. A moment for the panic and PTSD to come back in full force and make him rely on his instincts. Usually the feral instincts he became more attuned with while fleeing/fighting Krang One. It also goes hand-in-hand with his awareness of his goal (as mentioned in 'Realistic' above).

And that's kinda a word-vomit of how it goes!! Honestly??? The tug-o-war between conflicting thoughts helps me write the madness in his head. It's been super fun and interesting, and I hope it's been fun to read!!! (Though I'm telling you now I will NOT be doing those floating text tables again OOF)

Thank you again for the ask it was super fun to think about ;w; 🩵‼️

#thank u for coming to my Ted Talk #long post #sorry i kinda Went Off (affectionate) on this lmao #does this make sense??? only Pizza Supreme knows 😔#pastel prattling

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beary-rambles · 1 year

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Ok so if you watched scream 4 Jill manipulates charlie into being with her and thinking he's her partner in crime then she kills him. So imagine that with Ethan you join him and date him you actually start to like him but kill and betray him in the end and get away or you can have reader die too if you wanna be extra angsty

Whatever it takes

Summary | You loved your boyfriend you really did, but did you love him enough?

Warnings | Carpenter!reader (tara’s twin), murder, angst, 1.6k wc, heavily jill coded reader

a/n | i loved writing this request !! i hope you like it sorry for the wait 😭

“You're an asshole!” Tara spits at ethan as he laughs, “I know!”

He turns to the other ghostface standing next to him with a smile, “Come on baby lets do this.”

“Baby?” sam mumbles. The ghostface rips off the mask to reveal you. “y/n?” tara says in shock. “Hi tara.”

Ethan laughs, “God look at their reactions this is gold.”

Your sisters watch in horror as ethan moves over to you and give you a deep kiss to which you smile when you pull back. “Its better than i could have imagined.”

You had always fallen into the shadows with your other sisters, Sam obviously had a mass amount of attention due to the Woodsboro attack, you would watch as people would come up and talk to her and scroll through hundreds of social media posts about her.

You cant forget about tara. Who could? she wasnt internet popular like sam was but she was definitely popular amongst the people you knew. Everyone liked tara, of course they did she was funny and super pretty, basically everyone you knew has or had some sort of crush on her at some point and time like wes, amber, even chad.

Then there was you. Tara’s twin sister. Nobody ever remembered you, there was sam, tara and, the other sister. You were fine with it at first but over time you grew to hate it, and hate them. Nobody ever seemed to notice you or even paid attention to you, not until him.

You met Ethan early into your time at Blackmore University. You sat next to him during econ. You could see him stare at you out of the corner of your eye which got you thinking. When you turned to him with sweet eyes and sweetly asking if you could borrow a pen he melted and stuttered before giving you a pen and you gave him a sickly sweet smile to which he looked down and meekly smiled, he was so shy and sweet. He was perfect, exactly what you needed.

You two quickly became friends and soon enough started dating. When you two started dating your friends were happy for you, it was an easy transition since ethan was already friends with chad since they were roommates so he easily made his was into the friend group.

Ethan was quick to follow along with you. He had a troubled home life, never being shown any sort of love and affection as a kid and when he met you who showed him what it felt like to be loved it was easy to get him to do anything you watched him to just do he could please you.

You quickly learned ethan had very…. violent tendencies. He was more than eager to dawn the ghostface mask and begin to brutally, yes brutally kill the people he once called his friends. Anika, mindy, chad. It was easy to him, once he found out you hated them he began to hate them too.

He was the perfect partner, doing all the heavy lifting because he didn't want you to hurt yourself which made you smile.

You didn't truly like him. did you? you did. you found yourself having a warm feeling in your chest whenever he smiled at you, you would find yourself smiling and laughing after hearing his contagious laugh. it was dangerous. you never intended to actually begin to love him like he loved you when it got closer and closer to the time where you would end this you grew more and more upset. You hated it.

Before your sisters had even arrived, you had given ethan a big long hug, one he did not reject. He squeezes you tight like he always did as you bury your face in his neck, taking him in.”i love you ethan.” you can feel him laugh. “I love you too baby.” You pull back and kiss him deeply, he hums into the kiss and smiles, “i cant wait to celebrate with you afterwards.” You almost frown but nod your head leading him to give you a toothy grin.

Sam watches in horror as ethan brutally stabs tara over and over infront of her, tears running down her face while shes sceaming for him to stop. Looking over at you her face grows angry, “Why are you doing this y/n please stop this.”

You scoff youre growing more and more annoyed, “oh shut up itll be your turn soon.”

Ethan seems to be done having his fun with tara and he stands up turns back to you with a smile. “Fuck it felt good to kill her.”

You barely take a glance at her dead body bleeding out with what must be twenty stab wound all over her. You smile and laugh at her empty and soulless eyes as sam hysterically continues to scream and cry.

Ethan turns to her and rolls his eyes, “god shut up.”

He turns back to you and smiles, “Your turn.”

You had told him he could deal with tara, he had his own aggression towards tara since she was always the one to pick on him so he wanted to be the one to kill her while you got to take care of sam.

You give him your own smile and walk over to wear sam is sitting tied up and kick her in the stomach.

“You wanna know why im doing all this? why ive taken everything from you?” You run your knife along her cheek barely caring if she was actually listening to you over her tears.

“because you took everything from ME.” you slash her arm and she cries out looking at you, “what are you talking about?”

You scoff, “Its always been, oh sam and tara oh sam and tara but what about me! i have always been left behind, forgotten, left for last. Even my own friends i had made nyself chose you guys over me and im sick of it!” Another cut hits her along her stomach and she cries out in pain again. “once i slit your throat and watch you bleed out the news will think it was your fault, you went crazy and killed your best friends. But who will live to tell the tale y/n? im sure youre wondering. Me.”

Ethan thinks nothing if your words, glaring at sam as you make your way towards him and wipe a piece of dried blood off his cheek leading him to smile at you. Your hands shake and the grip you have on your knife grows tighter, “i have always lived in your shadow. in her shadow.” you point your knife now turned towards her dead body, “its my turn to be in the limelight and it would finally be my turn.”

You admire ethan for a moment, your eye's almost water as you stare at him, “and i cant share it. with anyone.”

The knife plunges into the side of his neck and his eyes widen as he stumbles back falling to the floor, blood pours out of his mouth and you move to stand above him.

“im sorry.” you crouch down and run your thumb along his cheek, he struggles below you, grabbing your elbows and staring at you with confused eyes which water.

“im sorry baby, but i cant share my fame with anyone not even you. Im sorry.”

You continue to watch and a tear falls down your cheek at his painful face, “i love you, I really do baby. forgive me.”

With the last of his strength he reaches his hand up and cups your cheek, wiping the tear off your face before his hand falls and the light draining from his eyes.

You frown, he was taking care of you and he did it until the very end. You rub your sleeves on your eyes wiping away any tears you had and stand up. Theres no time to mourn now. You had a job to do.

You turn over to sam, a new agression filling you body as you stalk over to sam. the knife covered in ethans blood tight in your hand.

It was her fault, everything was her fault none of this would have had to happen if it werent for her.

You lift the knife high and stare down at her ignoring any words she was saying or the tears running down his face as you slammed the knife down, hard, over and over and over and over and over.

Admiring your handy work you check her pulse, feeling nothing you smile. it was over. but you cant celebrate yet, you make your way over to ethan trying not to look at his bloody face as you rip the ghostface suit off his body and throwing it into one of the empty trashcans and setting it on fire.

You rushed around, you know somebody had called the police so you had to hurry, taking off your own outfit and putting it onto sams body, you had untied her and put the knives near her but not before stabbing yourself twice, “fuck” it hurt of course it did. it did make you smile, knowing that you were the one that caused sam to feel what you just felt but much worse.

You painfully drag sams body closer to where ethan was and take a minute to take a breath.

You mess up your hair and slice at your arms leaving a couple of times hissing each time.

You can hear police sirens outside so falling to your knees and lay down on the ground, facing ethan. you smile, knowing he would be happy you had succeeded.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry drabble #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x y/n #scream vi #scream six #scream #jack champion #jack champion x y/n #jack champion x reader

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violetsdaisy · 3 months

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I accidentally forgot a WIP and it’s an OC oriented Yugioh fic that I put a lot of effort and time into crafting lore and storylines, but then decided to write Senet Shores and got sucked up in puzzleshipping exclusively lol

It’s a string of fate series that starts after Atem leaves. Yugi is heartbroken and he ends up finding a friend through the OC (Sumire) who has her own mysteries. He’s super reluctant to let her in but she’s very supportive of him and holds him when he cries over Atem and what not.

The hole is never gone, but they get close and start dating. But Sumi’s narcissistic mother (the villian) tries to ruin her life and uses the “string of fate card” which brings back Atem from the afterlife (because he’s Yugi’s soulmate) and also reveals Sumire’s soulmate as Kaiba (there’s a lot going on with that situation too)

So Yugi is pulled between Sumi and Atem, before Sumi breaks down and is like “No, I’m giving you back to Atem because you two deserve to be together.” (Lots of plot drama happens)

Sumi ends up leaving with Anzu for two years and lives in America. Kaiba, by this point, has actually already told her his feelings in a round about way, but Sumi is denying them because she’s heartbroken over Yugi and trying to get over it.

Until Kaiba shows up and is like “get over yourself. I’ve given you time and now I wanna give us a shot” and then they start to get closer.

Basically i wanted to give Yugi comfort and pave a way for him to have Atem back and also give Kaiba a happy ending that didn’t involve crazy obsession 😭💙

But yeah 🤗 it’s a lot of lore and world building that even stems back into AE, so maybe one day I’ll go back to it and write it all out.

Here’s a angsty snippet between Sumi and Yugi:

“Yugi. Atem loves you.” His eyes hardened at the words, growing very guarded. “I know because I see how he looks at you. Isn’t that what you wanted? You have him now. He’s not just some spirit in the puzzle. He’s flesh and bone and you guys can touch and be together—”

“No!” Yugi shouted, catching her off guard, and he dropped her hands, a hurt and angry glare on his face. “No. I won’t choose between you like this, Sumi. You’re my everything and Atem is… well, he was my everything, but that doesn’t mean he is now. Things have changed and—”

“You just don’t want to hurt me,” she reasoned with him. “It’s okay. You can be honest with me.”

“I am being honest!”

“You’re not!” She shouted back. “You’re not and can’t you see that we are all miserable because of it?” She hadn’t meant to say that and when he flinched violently, she immediately wished to take her words back. Since she couldn’t, she deflated and continued. “Atem is hurting because he can’t have you. I’m hurting because I can’t have all of you. You’re hurting because of being torn in two directions.”

#daisysays #WIP talk #violetsdaisy #my writing

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itbe-jess · 3 months

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I just need to get this off my chest.

I feel like so many fans give CL Rayman a little too much credit. They’re always praising him, but I’ve never seen one person who is reasonably critical about him. (Except the one who aren’t really really fans) Yes, Rayman doing explicit adult activities, saying fuck, abusing drugs, and killing people is fun, but he’s technically not perfect. I’m tired of fans pretending like he is. I like the premise of his character, and this whole new approach is very interesting to me. But I’m sorry, the edgy Flanderization is just really annoying.

Yes, Rayman is supposed to be edgy. He has always been edgy. Rayman 3 being a big primary example of this. However, Rayman in Rayman 3 wasn’t just some mischievous edgy frat boy. He had more variety. Aside from having edge, he was also this laidback dude who loved to relax, had a wholesome childish spirit to him, and overall shows he cares for others around him.

That’s what CL Rayman is missing: Variety. Hell, I wouldn’t be a Rayman fan today if Sparks of Hope only portrayed Rayman as nothing but this salty millennial who can’t let go of the past. There’s not one scene with CL Rayman, outside of work, that doesn’t involve him in anything vulgar or offensive. I’m not gonna count any scenes where he’s in his TV Persona, because that’s technically not him being himself. That’s just him doing his job. Look, I love edgy characters, but not when they’re oversaturated with the one thing they’re most known for. Angel Dust couldn’t even compete with that level of edge. I’m not saying Rayman can’t be angry and depressed. As a matter of fact, he has every right to. His feelings are completely valid. But would it kill the writers to show him being funny or wholesome for one minute?

His least edgiest scene in the whole show has got to be his interview with Bullfrog. While it still presented an angsty atmosphere, and the vomiting moment was unnecessary, I’ll admit it was a breath of fresh air seeing him take a break from all that swearing and accept a juice box. My favorite part of that scene has got to be seeing a smile on his face. A real smile. You know, something tells me that Ubisoft doesn’t want Rayman to be happy in his series.

Rayman doesn’t feel like Rayman, either. Or even a character for that matter. In my opinion, he feels more like an early 2000s’ Newgrounds parody. Yes, I KNOW he’s supposed to be a whole different take on the character, but you know something? You CAN make an already existing character entirely different! It’s a really bold move to experiment more depth with that character. However, it’s also important to let them keep a tiny bit of their old, familiar charisma, so that they’re still recognizable to the fans. Familiarity is the key. Without that familiarity, that character might as well have a different name and appearance. CL Rayman doesn’t have Rayman’s charm, his humor, or even his good heart. Just his looks, and identity.

He does get struck by guilt after learning the truth about Eden, and he sacrifices his entire career just to fix his own mistakes. However, those don’t count as being kind. He’s killing fascists out of good intention, but in the end, it’s just violence. Not kindness. It’s really hard to see Ramon as the type of guy who would give me a hug when all I’ve seen him act is angry, depressed, and violent, not to mention he has snorted coke and ate sushi off of prostitutes in the comfort of his million dollar penthouse. If they want me to believe he truly is a sweet guy, THEN I WANNA FUCKING SEE IT! Have him, ya know, interact with kids! Comfort Dolph on his loss! Maybe even form a dorky, yet wholesome friendship with Bullfrog! There are many ways to have him express kindness, and not just through violence!

I’d also like to add that Rayman’s heel turn moment just felt kinda forced. We don’t even know how he got access to firearms. In the last episode, he was so whiny and weak. Then all of a sudden, he’s strong? C’mon, the dude has been loyal to Eden for years. They could’ve at least shown him reflecting on the impact of his actions first, and then figure out a way to resolve the problem at stake. I would have rather the show end like that so that the writers could give themselves time to build up a climatic story for season 2, not just get right to the point. Six episodes or not, it’s a poor writing direction.

I don’t care what anyone says: A 100% serious role does not work for Rayman. Don’t get me wrong; You can take Rayman seriously, but we’re also supposed to laugh at him, and with him. He’s not Spider-Man (a character that blends realism with lighthearted comedy), he’s a freaking Looney Tune! Even a game as dark and serious as Rayman 2 had moments to make us giggle. Humor plays an important role in Rayman’s character. Michel Ancel also intended humor to be one of his most defining traits. Just by looking at him, you know he’s someone you can’t take seriously! A Rayman that isn’t funny makes as much sense as having Crash Bandicoot talk.

I beg the writers to PLEASE flesh out Rayman’s character more in season 2! He can still swear, kill, snort coke, I don’t care, but at least bring out his sweeter side! Maybe make him a little goofy, too! For Polakus’s sake, make Rayman do something “Rayman-like” for once!

#Rayman #video games #Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix #I’m not saying you should stop loving CL Rayman. I’m just saying that you have to accept that he’s flawed.#I have a fair share of criticism with the Raymen I love dearly #I’ve always been afraid to speak this out cuz I was worried it might sound too controversial.#Please don’t disown me fans.

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rudio-capital · 2 years

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deranged Steddie fic ideas:

•they go to the aquarium and get high

•skate date but, there both ass at skating. one of them suggests it in hopes of having a romantic date thinking the other one knows how to skate and vice versa

•college au eddie is an art major and Steve (an athlete?)is his muse

•middle school au Eddie is a warrior cats fan and obviously Steve is a highlighter kid. They meet on the field

•youtuber au / streamer au this is kind of self-indulgent but, Eddie runs a nerdy YouTube channel with music/art/movies/dnd and Steve does vlogs and skits with the kids. They meet at a con

•eddie assimilates long skirts into his already cool wardrobe and Steve notices

•they meet prior to the events in st4 while in highschool and form an unlikely bond when Eddie sees Steve crying

•post-volume 1+2 Eddie and Steve move in together because they deserve happiness

•eddie gets acrylic nails done w/ ronance and Steve enjoys it because he already has an infatuation with Eddie's hands as it is (after a few hours Eddie proceeds to violently bite them off)

•vecna goes after eddie so Steve plays Eddie's favorite song "girls just wanna have fun" the discussion after can either be angsty or very laughable you choose (i don't think he ever mentions having one so yet again self-indulgent)

•they got to the arcade and in hopes of impressing one another they end up just one-upping each other

•they go to the beach, Eddie doesn't know how to swim

•they go to the gas station for slurpees and end up making purple

#stranger things 4 #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steveddie #steddie #fanfiction prompts #fanfic #fic ideas

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aether-wasteland-s · 4 months

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Feels like home

Hello @betweenthetimeandsound , I'm your Secret Santa! I'm sorry I haven't had the chance to get in touch a lot over the season, life will always find a way to intrude when you least need it to.... But, I hope you enjoy this! Happy holidays!

General taglist (ask to be +/-): @on-noon , @lakeside-paradise , @bardic-tales , @dogmomwrites , @elijahrichardwrites , @theunboundwriter , @chuuyas-beloved , @angsty-prompt-hole , @cljordan-imperium , @writeblrcafe

Masterpost

"Sienna…"

By the banks of the river, Sienna Reeves sat, staring absently into the glassy depths. This was her fault, her fault, and there was no turning back from that. She was a livewire, a bomb with no control, and her brother was trying to prove himself to her.

Go on, Stellan. If it's possible, surely you'd wanna give it a go?

She had been far too confident that getting him to figure out to what extents he was willing to go. Stellan had always wanted to travel… That was why she'd pushed him towards leaving, towards getting up, leaving town, and not coming back. Nobody knew the destination; everyone she'd asked- everyone she thought wold give her some sense- hadn't heard from him in as long as she had.

A voice drew her out of the mess, pulled her so violently back to reality that she thought for a moment that she would end up getting whiplash. She felt the sharp blades of grass digging in through the thin fabric of her trousers, the sting of the late season breeze cracking the tear tracks that she didn't even know were there, and the damp feeling left over from the morning's snowfall. Before she could consider turning around, or pretending she didn't hear whoever was behind her, Barratt Rowe sat down by her side, resting one foot against the soft dirt of the riverbank.

Relief washed over her like a wave breaking the sea defences. Barratt was maybe the one person in the entire town that she could actually say something to. They knew that Stellan had left, but they hadn't been inclined to blame her once. They were always a welcome face, and sometimes, she could even force herself to let loose her upkept facade around them. Sure, it wasn't an easy matter, but they were able to tell from a sense when something was wrong.

Her eyes met theirs, dark brown and shimmering with that familiar sparkle that looked like an inlay of gold. Immediately, she found herself a little more relaxed, or at least, a little less lost in the muddy cloud of her mind.

"Hello, Barratt."

They cocked their head. "Weirdly formal today, aren't we?" They asked, an amused tone lacing their words.

She couldn't even force herself to see the humour in it. Instead, she sighed, wistful and drawn out. "He's not coming back, is he?"

Not even for the festivities. The late season celebrations were Stellan's favourite time of year, and he normally went all out on ensuring that it was incredibly special. In that sense, she didn't feel like being incredibly festive, and the fact that everyone else did was getting to her.

"You can't say that," Barratt hummed, "okay? You don't know that..."

They managed to bring themself closer, and completely out of instinct, Sienna laid her head on their shoulder. For a long moment, they just sat like that. Staring out at the horizon line, tucked close to each other, and feeling the comfort from the proximity.

"I just- can't help it, y'know..."

Barratt sighed, absently letting an arm fall around her waist. "You know I can't tell you whether or not Stellan is coming back... And I get you don't want to do anything for the season, but I don't wanna see you go home alone..." They drew her gaze, getting her attention. "I don't celebrate if your lot don't invite me. Let me take care of you for a while, huh?"

Sienna genuinely hadn't considered that as an option. She was really not in the mood for the likes of her friends, however well meaning they were. The flashy style and general overwhelming buzz of the end of season celebrations got the better of her on a normal day, but spending a little time with Barratt might just cool things off. They were a breath of fresh air, a reprieve in the middle of the chaos. If she was honest with herself, she would rather not be alone right now.

"C'mon, it's me or the riverbank, Si... Pretty sure one of those options will still be around when it starts raining..."

Sienna laughed. Actually laughed. It was chocked with the threat of tears, and didn't seem entirely wholehearted, but it was near enough all the effort she had.

Barratt's eyes lit up. Sienna scrubbed at her face, then sat up a little straighter and dug their heel into the dirt, watching as some of it crumbled into the river. "That what I thought it was?"

"What can I say? You're a bad influence."

They laughed too. Pulling themself to their feet, they extended a hand and let her stand against them. "A bad influence, huh? Just because I don't wanna get festive?"

"Because you know just how to make a girl feel better," she hummed, choosing to keep their hand in hers. They shot her a glance, and left the bank together. The two of them passed under hand twisted garlands dotted with sparkling lights. They seemed to adorn every single lantern and street corner, and forced Sienna to keep her eyes on the ground. The more she focused on the cobbles, the less she had to think about things... Besides, focusing on them meant that she wasn't going to break her ankles on those awful gaps in the middle of the uneven stones.

"... Okay, when was the last time someone got round to asking you how you're doing?"

"Drew does. Sometimes... You know how it is with him..."

Andrew did always seem to be doing something, that was probably fair game for an excuse. At least he put in the effort, unlike a lot of other people Sienna claimed to be her friends. They nodded. She knew what was coming next, but they decided to go on anyway.

"Are you? Okay?"

"It's not easy, I miss Stel, but... Yeah. No, I'm okay." She wasn't entirely sure about that in all, but she'd said it now, and whether or not she had convinced Barratt that all was well, she was going to try and make sure that was the case. Barratt turned a corner, and she followed them towards their place. Maybe this season wouldn't be so bad, not if she didn't have to think about it.

They gave her hand a squeeze, gentle and reassuring.

#nova's crazy thoughts #wcsecretsanta #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writeblrcafe

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satans-left-asscheeky · 2 years

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Maccready

How could you not have been the one?

Short drabble based off the predictive text from this post

This came out far more angsty than I had anticipated. All hurt no comfort unfortunately, because apparently we enjoy pain in this household. :'(

Tw: Upsetting content, mentions of abusive relationships

"How could you not have been the one for me when I was so happy?" Mac hissed. The first few months they were together had been been great, but something had changed. It was a subtle change at first, one that had crept up on him. He hadn't realized how bad it was getting until it reached a breaking point, one where he couldn't deny it anyore. Maybe he could've seen it sooner, but they'd saved his kid and made him feel like he was king of the fucking world so he pushed it all under the rug. Hell he thought he'd never love again after Lucy, and then came along his knight in shinning armour. What a crock of crap that turned out to be. He really had thought the sun rose and set in them at first, but his luck always did turn sour in the end didnt it? They had been good work partners, and he wishes that things would've just stayed that way, but no they had to tell him all the things he thought he'd never hear again, and his stupid heart had to flutter and make him act a fool. At least he hadn't ever brought Duncan to the commonwealth like he had planned.... least he could do was save his little boy from the all to familiar pain currently settling in his chest.

"Guess you really can't see the forest through the trees." He finished while violently tearing his things from their once shared dresser drawer. He'd been stupid then. Love was blind and maybe so was he, maybe he'd been too infatuated to see the truth, or maybe he just didn't want to see Sole's dark side. Maybe they had just hidden it from him for as long as possible. Either way he'd seen the real them, and there was not a chance in hell he was gonna stick around now.

"Mac..." They started their voice cold and devoid of emotions. He looked to their face half expecting to find tears in their eyes. Maybe even a sick twisted part of him wanted to see it, wanted them to hurt as much as he was, but his gaze was met with an emotionless stare from his past lover. Their features were like a statute, unchanging, cold as stone, and mimicking the form of a person. He hadn't been scared of them before, even after all they had done, because something in the back of his mind had told him they didn't mean to do that to him, or didnt want to, but now he wasn't so sure.

"Say your peace sole... I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to." He forced himself to utter copying their coldness in his own empty tone. He couldn’t let them see what they were doing to him, how they'd gutted him entirely. How messed up he really was about all this.

"You won't tell anyone?" they whispered barely audible, but still the quiet question only pushed Mac over the edge. All he could see was red and he seethed as the weeks of repressed rage all but consumed him

"That's what you want to know!? Do you not care? I'm leaving you sole." He stated tapping his chest violently to punctuate his point. He gathered his things faster now, throwing them into his pack with a reckless abandon, objects hitting the inside of his bag in a frenzied rush.

"This isn't a break. This isn't temporary. once I have my shit I'm gone! You'll never see me again and all you care about is your reputation?" He looked at them only to find the same nothingness he had seen before. They were empty, hollow, the shell of a person he used to care for, but it would seem they didn't care for him... at least not anymore assuming they ever did.

"No, I won't tell anyone you're a psycho. Wanna know why? Because I loved you! How would that make me look huh?" he asked as tears filled his eyes and blurred his vision, despite his best efforts they still fell down his cheeks as he spoke. Dammit.

"You think I wanna be know as the guy who fell for you?! No, you know what fuck you. Yeah that's right. Fuck. You." His hand touched something small and ceramic in the drawer. He shoved it in his duster pocket before turning on his heels and leaving sole behind. Leaving the life he had built with them behind. Leaving a piece of himself behind.

He didn't look back. He couldn't look back. He slung his gun around his back and made his way out of the house. out of their house. He ignored the settlers and scavvers as he made his way out of the settlement, and out of the commonwealth. He moved quickly not stopping to eat or sleep just moving and shooting whatever was stupid enough to challenge him.

It hadn't even been a full three days when he collapsed. He'd just been walking and suddenly his knees buckled sending him falling down to the dirt below. He rubbed his eyes suprised to find that his hand came back wet. He was crying. Sobbing actually. He hadn't wanted to cry over them, they didn't deserve it, but here he was lying in the fetal position crying his heart out in the middle of the wastes. His sobs thankfully were mostly silent, and when they weren't he bit down on his hand so that he didn't make as much noise.

When he finally was to exhausted to cry anymore he noticed something in his front pocket poking into his chest. He had a brief memory of stuffing something into the pocket of his duster before he left for good. He pulled the mysterious object from his pocket and pulled it to his face blinking a few times until his tear blurred vision would coparate with him. He noticed it right a way. It was the toy soldier Lucy had made for him all those years ago. It felt like a life time ago from where he was laying. There was a noticeable crack down the center of it now, most likely from his frantic rush to leave, but he was just glad to have it. He brought it to his lips and kissed it gently before the exhaustion finally took hold of him and he passed out against the cold earth below him.

#fallout #maccready #fallout 4 #fo4 maccready #maccready fallout 4 #rj maccready #fallout 4 maccready

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shoyoist · 1 year

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im satisfied. that's it. im happy if they're happy and everyone is alive and well and sigh, I sure hope things don't do a 180, and you know what? they won't :) they won't bc I say so :) but I kinda wished this ch was a bit longer bc I wanted it to explore a lil more in depth how exactly they fixed all of this, ya know?? I wanted to see Michi with kisaki and how they bonded n stuff !! and sanzu baby :( WHEN I SAW IZANA OMG the eighth division captain :,)) even after he thought he couldn't be saved he was <3 and seeing shin alive was like wow, an out-of-body experience, im so glad everyone is ok for now im actually kinda hoping the alluded wedding at least i think the last panel shows a church so alluded wedding but idk is emma and draken's please i would sob i want them to be happy AND omg i wanna see baji as an adult, begging and praying rn

even with the plotholes and the ending feeling a lil rushed im all for tokyo revengers friendship is magic, its like adding a random fluffy ending to a very very angsty story but idc im happy if they okay, i feel warm and fuzzy and hopeful and everythings gonna be okay 😌💕

anyway tokyorev makes me forget how to properly structure my thoughts <3

me too tina me too <3 seeing everyone alive & happy and on the same side felt like heaven after all the angst.

i heard that wakui faced problems with shonen jump, due to tokyo revengers becoming too dark and violent to suit a "shonen" magazine + other issues, which i'm sure is much of the reason why he's wrapping things up so quickly and making the ending happy.

it's certainly a sharp turn after all the pain and death, but i'm welcoming it with open arms!! and god i hope it stays like this 😭 i hope it's actually a happy ending, and i hope we're just going to see everyone enjoying the wedding (takehina? drakemma? idm which! as long as it's not kisahina. oh my god that would be terrible LMAO) and having a good time. no funny business wakui, not now when you've made it this far 😭😭

i think if i sat down and thought for a bit i could write entire essays on every character and every arc of tr bec everything is just so deep and full of meaning and open to discussion!! i love this manga svm <333

#☆༉ inbox.#☆༉ from : tina.#tokyo revengers spoilers #tr spoilers #tr 277

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nightcityrejectclub · 3 years

Text

What your Cyberpunk 2077 Ship says about you!

m/f v edition

johnny/v: you love slow burn hurt/comfort and really angsty endings. you also probably hated canon

takemura/v: you have daddy issues and a daddy kink

viktor/v: you have daddy issues

judy/v: you are a lesbian with reaaally good taste

panam/v: you’re really mad she wasn’t a bisexual option, also you hate authority

kerry/v: you’re gay. like, really gay. you were kind of disappointed there was only one option for each sexuality, but kerry really is a darling so you’re not too upset

river/v: you like big buff sweethearts, especially if they have kind eye(s)

jackie/v: you really didn’t like canon. in fact, you are still violently upset about it

misty/v: you live for finding happiness in despair

jackie/misty/v: you’re very bisexual and proud of it, i also feel like you’re both a dog and a cat person

kerry/johnny/v: you’re either bi or gay, and you also really love hurt/comfort dynamics. you wanna care for your boys and also be taken care of

claire/v: your taste is phenomenal and you got so happy seeing a trans character in a AAA game

rogue/v: you have mommy issues. you’re also a bottom

dumdum/v: i am afraid of you

dex/v: i am going to hunt you down.

#HOO THIS’LL BE FUN TO TAG #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #kerry eurodyne #v #male v #fem v #judy alvarez #river ward #panam palmer #claire c2077 #jackie welles #misty olszewski #viktor vector

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cherumie · 2 years

Note

Do you have any favorite Grelle fanfics or authors?

YEAH, my favorite authors are Transistance & Cielsdemon. For fics themselves uhhhh I can recommend some cute ones but I can't think of any that'd I'd call my favorite right now. Like the ones I enjoy the most are either old as hell (& u know how old Grelle fics are) or just very well written porn so I don't think I can recommend those in good conscience lol

So literally every one of Transistance's & Cielsdemon's Grelle fics are amazing to me. Transistance's works make my heart ache and have me thinking about them weeks after I read them, and Cielsdemon's are just good cute wholesome fun. Here are a couple of series/fics that I especially like though:

Disclaimer: I'm not gonna recommend any freak shit but some of these are extremely violent/sad/angsty so make sure you look at the tags & warnings of the fic before you dive in & regret it.

To What Do We Owe Life - I think melancholy is the perfect word for most of this author's works. This one in particular just makes me sad in a fun way. I feel for Grelle, I feel for Will, I feel for the surprise guest, it's got some cute moments but it's all shrouded in this fog of "This can't end well, I wish it could but it won't." & I absolutely love it.

What Happened That Day Whilst He Was Away - Now this one hurts. It's part of the same series as the first one (which I recommend reading the entirety of, these are just my particular faves) and there's just so many emotions in the span of 13 chapters. Hope, loss, dread, fear, anguish- agh it's so good.

Pearly Heath - Okay so, this isn't one that I find myself coming back to as much as the others on this list, but it'd be criminal not to include it as it's the only fic that's ever made me cry. I don't have the energy to put my feelings on this one into words, but it's just. The whole tone of the thing, the vocabulary, the structure, the puncuation- I felt like I was feeling exactly how the author wanted me to the whole time I was reading it. It almost feels like someone you love just died, and you saw it coming, you knew it was gonna happen, but now it's actually happening & they're gone & that's it. It almost feels silly to get so emotional over a funny little anime story, I mean it's not even canon and there are thousands of other stories with happier endings, but idk man. It just gets me for some reason.

Cramped Quarters - Cute little anime shenanigans. Grelle & Will are trapped in a closet, do I need to go on. (There's no saucey stuff, just cute shenanigans as I said)

Involuntary Annoyances - Claasssssic. I've mentioned this one before, it's the one where Grelle has hiccups during a meeting. Just pure adorability.

By The Seaside - Now THIS is an UnderGrelle fic. I don't wanna set myself off on a rant on why I love the dynamic of these two so I'll just keep it simple; he annoys the hell out of her & sometimes her energy & hot-headedness are a bit much for him, but they just love each other so much and this author is very good at making that clear. Very different, but also very similar- that's how UnderGrelle should be.

A Kiss Is A Terrible Thing To Waste - Chapter by chapter drabbles of modern SebaGrelle, idk what else needs to be said. I haven't read it in a while but I remember finding it adorable. It just makes my heart happy <3

There are a lot more that I really like but I think these can be considered my all time faves currently.

(Honorable Mention: This fic written in 2011 that involves Grelle being gendered correctly and physically transitioning. Also she's American, Will is decidedly still British, & they're both cops for some reason. It's very cute. A marvel of the past.)

#if anyone wants me to rec fanfics with certain themes or story elements or pairing just let me know #i love love love talking about Grelle fics #the 2011 one is so interesting to me because it's so good for no reason #kuroshitsuji #grelliam #grell sutcliff #black butler #grelle sutcliff #grelletaker #undergrelle #sebagrelle #fanfics #fanfiction #long post

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leahblackk · 3 years

Note

Hello so for Halloween angst i had two ideas

1. Y/n and spencer have been besties forever and he gets a girlfriend and then the story tells how y/n suffered and then he is getting married and the rest is up to you! (happy ending hopefully)

2. Y/n and Spencer are having an affair bc he's married to Maeve and it's very angsty

Hello! No one of these has happy endings so I gave the second a twist. I would never let Spencer cheat on my girl Maeve.

Warnings: Mentions of affair but nothing actually happened. Please don’t see Maeve as the bad one here, she’s just so amazing.

As Halloween came to the door, Y/n was excited to celebrate with her boyfriend, Spencer Reid. Both of them were fans of the spookiness and the cold breeze of October.

She walked through the streets of DC while a coat held her trying to prevent the cold from freezing her bones, and then she saw a little store of sweets. Y/n excitedly entered the shop sounding the little bell above her head and made her way through the store to then to her apartment.

She softly entered thinking that it only was her. She left her coat and shoes and walked around with her mismatched socks up to her room to eat her sweets and watch some spooky movies, but he heard Spencer talking.

“Yeah, I’m glad we can talk,” he spoke moving around. Y/n stopped from opening the door and coming in and stood up outside with a smile hearing her boyfriends voice, “Oh yeah, I just came in actually,” he spoke again.

She wondered who was the other person in the other line, “No, she’s not here apparently,” he said, and Y/n frowned and Spencer chuckled, “Yeah Maeve, but is a shame we can’t meet.”

She stood frozen. Maeve? Who was Maeve?

Y/n finally open the door and Spencer looked at her with a smile with his phone still on his ear, “I’ll call you later, bye,” he said and put the phone down looking at his girlfriend. She looked gorgeous, “Hi angel,” he greeted.

Y/n didn’t know how to react. She didn’t want to make a scene about it, after all, she didn’t know who Maeve was. But, it hurt her just to think Spencer could fall for someone else. She knew he wasn’t capable of cheating, he just wasn’t like that. But the wonder still remains.

“Hi,” she said with a small smile stepping in and sitting in the bed with the bag.

“What’s that?” Spencer asked trying to make more conversation as he saw his girlfriend weirdly. There was something about it that wasn’t right with her, but he couldn’t figure out what just know.

“Some sweets. I didn’t know you were here so I planned on watching some movies and eating them,” she spoke, her voice almost a whisper looking at her hands as she feared her voice would break.

“What’s wrong, angel?” Spencer asked as he heard her. Getting closer to her, but she didn’t let him, standing up.

“N-nothing. Don’t worry, I’m just really tired. Did you eat anything?” She softly asked looking up at him looking at his concerned eyes.

“Yeah, I did. We all ate after the case. Why? Are you hungry? I can make you something or we can order some take-out, your favourite food,” he asked trying to take care of her. To ease her worries. But that didn’t work.

“No, it’s okay. I’m not hungry, I just wonder. So I have some work to do so I’ll be out there if you need anything. Y-you should rest,” Y/n was out of the room before she heard Spencer’s response and went to the small balcony they had, closing the door and locking it. She turned around while the wind violently moved her hair and left her tears out, looking back from time to time to see if Spencer wasn’t there looking at her.

…

Spencer wonder what happened for her to act so distant, so worried and the pain in her eyes it really broke him. Was it him? Or something happened when he was away? Or maybe she was falling out of love?

He didn’t know but either way, he was really worried. He needed to talk to her.

Spencer walked to the balcony, where he knew she was, she always work there or when she’s upset. He tried to open the door but then realized it was locked and there it was the confirmation to his doubts; Y/n was definitely upset.

Spencer knocked on the glassed door waiting for her to open it and hopefully she would hear the knocking and she did. She hugged herself while she opened the door, and Spencer felt the cold air when it touched his skin, “Y/n are you out there with this cold and without a cardigan or coat? You’re gonna get sick,” he said taking her arm and letting her step inside. She didn’t say anything, she just gave him her back.

Spencer closed the door and looked at her. He walked to her putting his hands on her cold arms and caressing them, “What’s wrong, angel?” He asked once more, but there was no response.

He put one hand on her waist turning her around, and he saw the tears falling down her cheeks, “Angel,” he whispered voice full of pain to see her in such a state, “What’s wrong? Please please talk to me. I wanna help you,” he pleaded, hugging her, but she didn’t hugged him back. Spencer had to ask now, the question that haunted him, “I wanna know. Did something happen when I was away? A-are you? Um, don’t you love me anymore?” He asked, voice breaking in the process.

She looked up at him with confusion, “What?”

“Yes, you’ve been acting weird since I came home. You didn’t let me touch you or get close to you and it worries me,” he said looking at her trying to read her.

“Spencer if you want to break up with me do it know, seriously. I can’t with this anymore,” now Spencer was confused.

“Why would I break up with you?” Y/n looked down and didn’t say anything, “Angel please talk to me.”

“I-I just,” she sighed, “I don’t want to be jealous or possessive or anything at all, but I’m just worried and when I came home I heard you talking with someone, M-Maeve. And you said it was a shame you couldn’t meet, and that got me thinking that maybe you are the one who fell out of love. And believe me, I-i don’t judge you at all, I just wished you could’ve told me sooner, and if Maeve makes you happy then I’m happy for you,” Spencer’s heart broke.

He couldn’t shake his head fast enough, “No, angel no,” he said trying to make her look at him, “I would never fell out of love with you, in fact, my love for you grows every day with everything of you and I would never want anyone else, let alone cheat on you. Maeve is a doctor, she’s my friend and she had helped me with my migraines and I wanted you to meet her but things are complicated with her right now, and I really appreciate her but, she’s not you,” Spencer spoke. She didn’t look at him, she was ashamed. “look at me, please,” she didn’t follow so Spencer grabbed her face with both hands and put their forehead together, kissing her cheek, “I would never fall out of love with you, angel. No one compares to you, I’m so in love with you, you have me wrapped around your finger and if you want to see me happy as you said before just look at me,” Y/n did, Spencer caressed her cheek giving her a quick pick on the lips, “There she is. The prettiest girl in the world,” he kissed her cheeks and then her lips, taking his time, “My pretty girl,” he repeated between kisses.

“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” she whispered. Spencer shook his head.

“You actually acted very maturely. I would’ve begged you not to leave me if I ever heard you talking like that with someone else,” she shook her head.

“I love you,” she spoke.

“Hm, you love me?” She nodded, “Guess what? I love you so much more. More than anything, you know that right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. But I will keep reminding you for the rest of my life if that’s okay with you.”

“Only if you let me do that too.”

“It would be an honour,” he said kissing her while they smiled in the middle of the kiss.

#angst halloween #spencer reid #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #doctor reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #Spencer Reid angst #Spencer angst

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neversleepagainau · 3 years

Photo

please do not repost my art.

~~~

at long last, im so excited to announce that this ask blog is officially open! many people know I’ve been working on this intro for roughly five weeks, and I’m very excited to finally share it- possibly as excited as I am to FINALLY begin telling this story!!!

first of all, tumblr completely ruined the quality of that last panel- if you wanna see the full sized gif (warning you now, it’s enormous), you can find that here! And, if the gif is hard to read/hard to view, there’s a static version of this panel below the cut!

There’s also a ton of extra information that could answer some questions you might have, as well as a list of potential triggers to watch out for in the future! However, it is really long, and when I say really long, I mean it’s chapter-in-a-book-long so please don’t feel obligated to read it unless you have extra questions/have some bad triggers you wanna make sure to avoid.

Otherwise though, I can’t wait to see what kind of questions you guys send these two! One has to wonder… where in the world are they headed off to in the dead of night…

First of all, here’s the static image of Panel 8, as promised!

And now for some extra info on things going forward.

On every single canon update, there will be a description of themes in this story that could unsettle or discomfort some viewers. I’ve included tags to blacklist, and explained exactly how these situations might arise so folks who are sensitive to this kind of thing can prepare themselves accordingly!

I would recommend at least skimming this list if you know you have some bad triggers! This story will never get too dark or intense, as I’m attempting to stay true to the original spirit of MSA, but this doesn’t mean it won’t touch on those themes at all.

also, in regards to how much of this art is hand drawn by me- the honest truth is 99% of this is entirely freehanded. I took colors from the videos, but otherwise only used them as reference. However, if I ever used a canon asset to help me, I will always specifically say what exactly was borrowed directly from canon in a way that was more than just using images as reference and taking colors. for this post specifically, I’ll word it a little differently, but this will all be much tidier in the future.

the van asset is 97% freehanded by myself- I did take measurements of the canon asset, and marked my canvas so I’d know the width and height of the van, and vaguely marked where the tires would be.  I did trace the antennae ontop, as well as the cloud decals, one of the curves on the right side of the windshield, part of the door window at the very bottom lefthand corner, and the rear view mirror. The logo was not recreated, I directly took that and just altered the colors to fit the van. Other than that, everything you see on that van was freehanded. The van was also the only thing I used a canon asset to help me with for creation of it, meaning that the rest of the art in this introduction is entirely freehand.

moving on from that- updates will not take an entire month like this did. i will not be doing eight full color illustrations for every single update, and for right now, at the minimum, they’ll happen weekly! i can provide more information going forward once I work out how I’m going to go about things a little better, since things won’t be as huge as this introduction was. don’t worry though, the quality of the art itself will stay the same throughout the whole story!

and yes, lewis and vivi are in this too! there’s a big cast of characters, and lew and viv are just as much at the center of this story as arthur and mystery are- don’t worry, you’ll see them plenty soon enough!

finally, before we get to the content warning stuff, if you ever have any questions about how I’m running things, or need clarification on anything, please let me know! I’m happy to explain things in more depth if needed!!! and now, here’s the last chunk of this INCREDIBLY long introduction. ~~~ WHAT FOLLOWS IS A VERY LONG (!!!), IN DEPTH LIST OF THINGS VIEWERS MIGHT ENCOUNTER IN THIS STORY THAT COULD TRIGGER THEM. If you are not super sensitive or have very intense triggers, you don’t really need to read what follows unless you want to. Otherwise, I would at least skim this, so you know what tags to block so you won’t have to see this type of content.

Don’t let any of this worry you too much, by the way! This story is very likely not ever going to get extreme in any manner, I just like to be very cautious, just in case!

Also keep in mind that you can always ask me to add tags to a post, and it’s highly unlikely I will refuse said request. If I do, it will be for a very good reason, and I’ll explain it thoroughly, as well as remain open to any discussion about it. With that in mind, here are things to be aware of:

CHARACTER DEATH/REMOVAL FROM STORY: There may be characters in this story that you will get attached to that end up dying or not being in the story at all or as much as they were before. This story has chances for different outcomes depending on asks, but there are some things I have set in stone and a few of them involve these themes, so please be mindful of that. The tags to blacklist to avoid updates that touch on this specifically are #character death or #character removal.

DISTURBING CONTENT: This is vaguely worded because it is a bit of broad umbrella. There may be themes of body horror, gore, violent/upsetting/disturbing depictions of death (not any worse than Lew’s death, if it ever is I’ll be sure to specify ahead of time), creepy/unsettling designs and environments, so on and so forth. The tag to blacklist to avoid updates that include anything I consider to be disturbing to view is #disturbing content.

ANGST: This story will get sad, and broach on themes of abandonment, loss, trauma, depression, paranoia, self-hate, and things in this nature. What I can immediately promise is this story will NEVER have themes of suicide or self-harm. I do not feel this story needs to go there, nor do I wish to take it there. Also, while there is angst, I do not believe in beating characters up mercilessly- the angst is for the story and their development. This is not going to be a story that is only angsty. However, if any sort of angst upsets you, the tag to blacklist to avoid updates that include heavier, angstier themes is #angst.

PARANOIA: A few of the characters often get a sense of being hunted or followed, or something lurking around the corner, which can be upsetting to some viewers. A few characters may occasionally have moments where they express their anxieties in depth. The tag to blacklist to avoid updates that include heavy mentions of paranoia/depictions of it/make the characters (and potentially audience) feel paranoid is #paranoia.

UNREALITY: Lewis has some powers that can warp space and create illusions, and potentially will be in situations where he uses them in ways that could mess with people’s perception of reality. This can be very uncomfortable for some people to view, so in updates where this may happen, the tag to blacklist is #unreality.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES: This story will NEVER be explicitly NSFW, and will rarely ever feature these themes at all. It is mainly for the occasional joke here and there, but absolutely nothing more. However, if any implications of something slightly more adult make you uncomfortable, the tag to blacklist here is #suggestive themes.

ANIMAL HARM: Mystery may enter situations where he ends up getting hurt during this story, though he will never endure any kind of situations that mimic real life animal abuse. If seeing an animal be harmed in any way remotely upsets you, the tag here to blacklist is #animal harm.

~~~

If you made it all the way to the bottom, you’re a champ!!! While posts will definitely not be this long going forward, I really appreciate you taking the time to read this!

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Time and Space.

A/N: Another angsty one that won’t have a part two, i’ve left it down to readers interpretation as to what happens next. I enjoy writing more angsty fics and i enjoyed writing this. I hope you all enjoy! There is also some slight POV changes in this so if i missed any you/she’s that needed to be corrected i apologise.

Summary: Tom's been distant and it reaches its breaking point.

Warnings: Swearing, so much angst, mentions of mental health being affected.

W/C: 3K

If someone had told you a year ago that on your next birthday you’d be sat crying into your drink you’d have laughed at them but would they have been wrong? No. Here you were crying into your drink and violently sobbing while Tuwaine rubbed your back and tried to calm you down, it wasn’t working.

Harrison was furious with his best friend, he couldn’t be more angry if he tried. He’d promised her he was going to be here and where was he? Well if he’d pick up his fucking phone Harrison might have an answer for the sobbing girl. Tuwaine was utterly lost, he had no idea how to make her feel better.

You looked at your phone for what felt like the millionth time that night, nothing from him and it was 12.01am the day after your birthday. He hadn’t said happy birthday and he hadn’t seen you on your birthday, not spared you a thought in 24 hours. You knew something was wrong, something you couldn’t quite get a grip on, he’d become distant.

“Hey.” You said as you approached him, he was sat on his phone, he didn’t even look at you. “Do you wanna do something today?” You asked and he huffed quietly.

“Not today, love.” He’d answered and it felt cold, withdrawn. He still hadn’t looked at you.

“Okay, then I’m gonna go out for a bit.” You said and he hummed not looking away from his phone.

“I applied for a promotion today.” You said over dinner, he was yet to say anything to you.

“Nice.” He said. It sounded like he didn’t mean it. No further questions as if he wanted the conversation to be over.

“I’m kinda nervous for it.” You said hoping to keep the conversation going.

“You’ll do great.” He said as he got up and left the room.

He’d been nothing but distant over the last couple of weeks and last night he missed a dinner date, he apologised, although it seemed half arsed and didn’t give a reason. You knew he wasn’t cheating because Harrison had texted you to apologise that he kept Tom out, but Tom said nothing about it. You got up and couldn’t help the brim of tears in your eyes.

“You okay?” He asked as you sniffled.

“Yeah.” You mumbled as you sniffled again and rubbed your nose.

“Okay.” He said as he made his way out the door. You cried for the first time in those couple of weeks. You knew he wasn’t cheating so did he just not love you anymore? Were you an inconvenience? Your mind ran at a thousand miles an hour thinking over all the reasons he was being so cold.

It only got worse, one missed dinner date turned into three so you stopped organising them. He never had a reason for missing them and the last time he’d done it didn’t even pull and apology from him. You folded your arms over the table and stuffed your face into them as you cried harder and Tuwaine wondered how that was possible.

Tuwaine watched as she sobbed her heart out in the middle of a bar not caring if people were looking or not. He pulled her into his chest as she sobbed harder, the tears instantly wetting his shirt but he didn’t care, he was heartbroken for the girl in his arms. He looked at Harrison as Harrisons nostrils flared before he abruptly stood from the table and made his way outside.

“Hey, shh. Come on Y/N, it’s your birthday.” Tuwaine said to her and she didn’t respond, probably didn’t hear as her crying was so loud, he was almost in tears himself watching her break apart in his arms. She shouldn’t be in his arms, this should be Tom comforting her but fuck knows where he is.

Harrison pulled up Tom’s contact one last time before he decided that he was going to go over there and rip him a new one. He placed the phone to his ear as he ran his hands through his hair, surprisingly Tom picked up after the third ring.

“Hey mate.”

“Where the fuck are you?” Harrison growled down the phone.

“What do you mean?” Tom asked confused.

“Of course you forgot. You really are a piece of shit.” Harrison laughed sarcastically, his heart was well and truly broken for the girl inside.

“Forgot what? Are you gonna just keep insulting me or tell me what I’ve done?” Tom snapped and Harrisons nostrils flared as his anger bubbled further to the brim.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked.

“I don’t know she wasn’t home when I got back.” Tom answered almost as if it meant nothing. No concern. No fucking anything. Harrisons anger completely boiled over.

“It’s her birthday you absolute fucking bell end. She’s sat in the middle of a pub crying because you couldn’t keep yet another promise. You really have outdone yourself.” Harrison said and he heard Tom curse at the other end of the phone.

“Shit, tell her I’ll be there in ten.” He said.

“Don’t fucking bother. You have done more than enough. I’m bringing her home soon and you better just fucking leave her be.” Harrison said.

“No disrespect mate but this is my relationship.” Tom snapped and Harrison laughed at that.

“Is it? Does she know you’re still together?” Harrison bit back, he was beyond angry.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tom shouted back at him.

“If you don’t know what I mean by that Tom I’m not fucking trying.” Harrison snapped as he put the phone down. He stormed back into the pub, his anger having risen to a point of what he thought was no return until he saw Y/N again and all anger dissipated as he watched her cry into Tuwaine’s chest that should have been Tom’s.

You couldn’t control yourself as you cried, so many thoughts running through your head. You had to go home eventually but that meant back to Tom, maybe, if he was there. You would ask to stay at one of the boy’s house but their house was your house and it was far too late to call anyone else. Maybe you could get a hotel for the night, you didn’t want to speak to Tom tonight, not after this.

“Y/N? I’m gonna take you home okay? I’m gonna give you my room and I’ll sleep on the sofa.” You heard Harrison say as he crouched down next to you.

“But what if Tom’s there?” You sobbed back and he took your hands in his as you pulled away from Tuwaine.

“If you don’t want to speak to Tom tonight you don’t have to.” Harrison said and you nodded as you both stood. Tuwaine grabbed your things as Harrison guided you outside and flagged down a taxi. You managed to compose yourself a little as you sat in the taxi.

“I don’t think he loves me anymore.” You said and Harrison sighed. Harrison wasn’t sure he could answer this, Tom hadn’t said anything but he was sure acting like he didn’t.

“Let’s just get you home and we can talk about this tomorrow okay? You need some sleep.” Harrison said as he pulled you into his side. At some point the crying had taken a toll on you and you let the exhaustion pull you under and you let silent tears fall.

Harrison was aware she’d fallen asleep and a part of him was happy about it, she wouldn’t have to face him tonight. He was so angry that Tom hadn’t seen the heart break in her, she’d become distant herself, lost in her own thoughts more often. She wasn’t enthusiastic anymore and anyone with eyes could see she was slowly breaking so why hadn’t Tom?

Harrison paid the driver as he carefully moved her out of the taxi, carrying her bridal style up the driveway. He noticed the living room light on and he sighed, Tom was waiting. Tuwaine unlocked the door as he made his way upstairs and as Harrison kicked the door shut gently Tom came in.

“She okay?” Tom asked and his heart broke as he took in the state of her, she looked so tired, almost broken, she didn’t have that same peaceful look on her face that sleep normally brought.

“Don’t.” Harrison gritted out as he started to make his way upstairs.

“Harrison sh-“ Tom began to say and Harrison spun round to look at his face.

“Don’t you fucking dare wake her up. I’ll be back down shortly.” Harrison gritted out and Tom nodded as he watched his friend carry his girlfriend upstairs and into his room. She shouldn’t even be crying but here she is and Tom should be comforting her but here he is.

Tom sat on the living room sofa as his leg bounced waiting for his friend to reappear. He was aware he was in for an argument. He’d just been so stressed recently and he’d taken it out on her and he felt awful, he hadn’t noticed the change in her but seeing her tonight and she was only asleep made him realise how much he’d fucked up. Harrison entered the living room as he shut the door and Tom instantly shot up.

“What did you get her?” Harrison asked.

“What?” Tom asked with furrowed brows, he wasn’t sure where this was going.

“For her birthday?” Harrison clarified.

“I forgot.” Tom swallowed as he watched his friends nostrils flare.

“Fucking brilliant. Do you know what she said to me tonight?” Harrison said as he crossed his arms over his chest and Tom shook his head, he couldn’t find his voice.

“She said ‘I don’t think he loves me anymore’ and she fucking believed it.” Harrison said and Tom felt his heart shatter. He knew he’d been distant and he knew he wasn’t being fair to her but he never once thought she’d believe he didn’t love her.

“I do.” Tom said as he felt his tears, he had really fucked up.

“I couldn’t tell her that, Tom.” Harrison sighed as he felt his anger wash away all of a sudden, he was just left with a sadness in his chest over the situation. “I couldn’t stick up for you because you haven’t given me a reason to make her believe otherwise.” Tom’s tears slipped down his cheeks at that, had he really been so cold?

“I’ve just been so stressed, I didn’t mean to be that way.” Tom said and Harrison sighed again as he ran his hands over his face.

“But you were and you didn’t see what it was doing to her. Fuck, Tom we picked up on her changes weeks ago.” Harrison said and Tom nodded as he sniffled. He felt like he had a whole in his heart that was only going to be made bigger once he spoke to his girlfriend.

“I’ve really fucked up Haz, I need to speak to her.” Tom said as he cried.

“Not tonight Tom please, just let her sleep.” Harrison begged as he placed a reassuring hand on his friends shoulder and Tom nodded as he said goodnight and made his way upstairs, he was scared this was going to be the end, that she wouldn’t forgive him for this. He collapsed onto his bed tossing and turning, thinking about what the morning will bring until he eventually fell asleep.

You woke up and your head was pounding from the tears you’d shed last night. You felt awful and as you turned to the bedside table you saw that a packet of painkillers and a bottle of water had been left with a note.

For your head. Me, Tuwaine and Harrison have gone out for the day so you two can talk. I’m here if you need anything, Harry.

Harry hadn’t been able to make it last night for legitimate reasons and the boys must have filled him in this morning. As for Tom, you still had no idea why he couldn’t make it last night. You swallowed the painkillers and drank the bottle of water before making your way into the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror after you finished brushing your teeth and you were shocked by the sight.

You had horrendous bags under your eyes and no life in them. You looked tired, completely drained of energy. You almost cried again at the sight of yourself but you were sure you legitimately couldn’t cry again, you felt numb after your breakdown last night.

You took a shower and let the water wash your tear stains away along with everything else. You felt ready to talk to Tom now, more prepared than last night, you were sure you had no more tears left for him. You loved him, god did you love him but this wasn’t working at the minute and you came to accept that when you were in the shower. His feelings had changed and there was nothing you could do about it, sometimes it happens and you had to accept that.

You realised that you’d have to go back into your shared bedroom in order to get changed and you mentally prepared yourself one last time before you opened the door and there he was sat on the edge of the bed. Your heart broke slightly at the sight of him, he looked tired, like he’d hardly slept. You silently got dressed as neither of you dare say a word until you heard Tom sigh.

“Y/N/N, I’m so sorry.” He said and his voice broke as tears made their way down his face.

“Why weren’t you there?” You asked, voice tired, devoid of all emotion. Tom sobbed before he answered, he knew this would break you heart, you on the other hand weren’t sure if you had any heart left to break.

“I forgot.” He said and shame laced his tone. He prepared himself for the shouting but it never came you only nodded. The lack of emotion from you was frightening Tom to no end.

“Do you still love me?” You asked, you needed to know. You watched as tears fell like a waterfall down his beautiful face. You were right in assuming you had no tears left because usually the sight of him crying would cause some of your own tears, but not right now.

“I do. I love you so much princess. I’m sorry, I’ve been so stressed lately and I took it out on you and I shouldn’t have.” He was still sat on the edge of the bed as he dropped his head into his hands and cried again. You stood still in your position across the room. Normally the nickname would fill you with happiness but right now it was hitting a brick wall. Your heart slightly lifted to hear he still loved you but you still needed space.

“Please can we talk about this? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. I really do love you and I mean that.” He said.

“That’s first time you’ve said those words in a while.” You spoke as you realised.

“What?” He furrowed his brows as he looked at you.

“I love you.” You replied, voice still void of emotion. You were speaking as if you were listing off a fact file.

“I’m sorry.” Tom shook his head as he sniffled loudly before burying his head in his hands again.

“I’m gonna go stay with a friend.” You said as you slowly started to pack a suitcase.

“What? No, baby, we can fix this. You don’t have to leave.” He panicked as he frantically looked at you. You sighed as you continued to pack.

“Tom, I’m tired and I’m drained. I need some time away.” You said honestly as you zipped up your case after having packed what you’d need for a while.

“Please, Y/N don’t leave me.” He pleaded with you as he stood. You sighed again, you’d been through this in your head, you needed time, both of you did.

“Tom, I need some time away from you okay. I need time to think and to process the last seven weeks.” You said.

“What if you don’t come back?” He panicked as he made his way over to you, taking your face in both of his hands looking straight into your eyes. “I love you so much, please don’t leave me. We can talk about it.” Tom was pleading with you now and you felt your first tear fall as he swiftly swiped it away with his thumb.

“Tom I love you, I really do. But we need space and then we can talk okay?” You said.

“But what if you stop loving me?” Tom worried and you smiled as you placed your hands over his.

“A part of me will always love you and I mean that.”

“This feels like a goodbye.” Tom cried.

“It doesn’t have to be, but we need time and space right now. That’s what we need, when I’m ready to talk I’ll let you know.” You said through a sad smile. “I love you.” You said as you placed a sweet kiss to his lips which he instantly returned, his tears mixing with the kiss. You pulled away from him as you grabbed your case.

“I love you so much, please don’t forget that.” Tom said as you made you’re way out of the door.

“I won’t. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk.” You softly smiled at him and he returned it as you shut the door and made your way to your car.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst

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