#wish I could be a selfish prick like so many others | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feyascorner · 3 months

Text

“I love you.” The first time he says those simple three words, he doesn't mean it. Not really. And he knows you're aware of it too, with the stern glare you give him in response to his smug grin. He's teasing you—or, it looks that way anyway. In reality, he hopes that there's a glimmer, a sliver of your heart that welcomes his enticing and open arms. It’s routine. A habit. It feels more natural to lure you in with songs of promises than to simply tell you what he needs. He hopes you take his hand and ignore the sharp nails digging into your skin. He hopes you fall.

“I love you.” The second time is months later. He thinks he might genuinely mean it this time, considering how heavy his heart feels in his chest as the words leave his lips. But it’s hesitant. You can tell. And ever so patient, you only smile at him, taking his hand this time to squeeze it gently. Ah, that feels nice. Does he love you? Have you grown on his cold, dead heart? The fact that he doesn't want to recoil from your touch is enough if an answer..

“I love you.” The third time is at his grave. He’s confident now. Feeling. Wanting. He wishes he could hold your fingers against his skin forever. He doesn't want to even let go, because he fears you might vanish into thin air, like every other caring thing in his life. You're good. Understanding. Nothing like him. You deserve better than him. But he's always been a selfish man, and even though your presence urges him to be better, he remains selfish when it comes to you. He doesn't--no, he won’t lose you.

“I love you.” He’d feared he would never get to say the words again. He had faith in you of course, but an Elder Brain is no easy feat to defeat. But as he watches the brain sink into the darkest depths of the sea, the others cheering behind him, he feels the sun begin to prick at his skin again. It stings. Gods, does it sting. For a moment, he wonders if he should even run. He's had a taste for the sun kissed glow and he's not sure if he wants to part ways with it if it means he’ll rot away in the shadows forever. But when he feels you hurriedly toss a cloak over his shoulder, covering his face with the hood just enough for him to meet your eyes, you offer him something he doesn't want to ever imagine himself without again. Something he’s still in disbelief he has. Someone to worry for him.

I love you, I love you, I love you. As years pass, the words become more frequent, yet they never lose their weight, no matter how they're said or when. It’s funny, really, how he'd almost feared saying the same exact words just a few decades ago. To Astarion, they remind him that you're still here, allowing him the privilege to let him love you as much as he does.

“I love you.” The last time he says it, whether it be after an untimely death or simply from old age, he’s holding your hand again. He hates that instead of the adoration it’s supposed to convey, he hears more of the wobble in his voice as he realizes his time with you is up. Even though he's said it so many times, he finds that it still wasn't nearly enough. Open your eyes, he pleads to nobody in particular. He breathes. Why is he breathing? He doesn't need to. But the breaths become faster, and he realizes he’s crying too. Curses, how immature. Ah, your hand is so cold, almost like his own. He hates it. Don't be like him. And when he begs, he begs. Squeeze his hand again. Touch him again. Smile at him again. Live again.

Let him love you again.

#is this too corny..#idk I love him #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #astarion fanfic #astarion x oc #astarion x you

2K notes · View notes

pandoa · 2 years

Note

Hi Pandoa! Congrats on your follower count :DD Could I request for the event, Tulips with Leona and the setting be In The Rain. Those two on the prompt list really remind me of that one scene in 2005 Pride and Prejudice.

Tulips ~ “so what if i’m in love with you?! is that so wrong?”

Plumerias ~ “run away with me”

~leona kingscholar x gender neutral reader~

warnings: some cursing, very minor angst if you'd qualify it as angst? it turns around very quickly tho so no worries lol

hello hello anon!! tysm for your lovely request! i do hope it was alright that i combined your rq with another darling anon <3 you two had very similar requests for leona, so i hope that's okay! i still kept that pride and prejudice vibe tho, i loved it sm!! have fun reading hehe~

♡the heart rains with its lover♡

You couldn’t believe the audacity of the beastman in front of you.

Even after every outburst, argument, cold glare, and obstacle thrown at the two of you, he was still there, ignorantly doing all that he wished like the choices he made did not carry any sort of grave consequence whatsoever. He was a selfish prick. A bratty little prince you had hoped to stay away from.

You loathed the thought of just speaking to the pompous man.

Hurriedly running past the forming puddles on Night Raven’s flooded campus, strenuous drops of rain trickled down your skin as you escaped to an open field with Leona trailing close behind you. Thunder clapped within your surroundings with a resounding clamor that echoed through your ears. The clouds in the sky gathered together in a spiteful manner, with you and Leona trapped underneath the overflow of raindrops soaking your drenched form. The chaos befalling just over the horizon accentuated your livid mood, and you bitterly welcomed it with every raving fiber of your body as you and Leona came to a stop in the middle of the storming field—the frustration in your tones being so sonorous it could be heard thousands of miles away across the hazel waters of the Isle of Sages.

He did it. Leona had confessed. Albeit quite casually for an admittance of one’s sincere affections, but a confession nonetheless. Earlier, the two of you were gathered in your own circle of friends chatting amongst yourselves in Night Raven’s lively cafeteria until the low, unexpected voice of the Savanaclaw housewarden played throughout the room—mistakenly catching the attention of many other students in the process.

“Okay, so I like (Y/n), Ruggie, what of it? That doesn't mean that I’ll go down on my hands and knees for ‘em, geez!”

The room went silent at the man’s outburst. A few had stared. You felt their creeping gazes irritate the spine of your back as you stood there, appalled and distraught, looking up to the unfazed lion standing a couple feet in front of you. Whispers were heard vexing the dissonant room as students murmured about the lion prince’s sudden declaration. All of their piercing looks were pointed towards you as you were faced with seas of judgmental glares. You were exasperated at what you had just overheard. You assumed he had hated and thought of you as a nuisance with the way he had always scoffed at you during your visits to the school’s botanical garden. But it was no matter. You claimed to hate him as well, anyway. There was no way that what he had said was true. It had to be a cruel joke.

You did not trust him.

“Why would you say that?!” you shouted as you returned from your recollection of the events that occurred just a few minutes ago, arguing with the loud pittering of the rain as you raised your voice even more. “Right there, in front of everyone! That was quite uncalled for, and you know it!”

Leona bitterly turned to you, retorting your exclaims with a sarcastic vein. “Oh, well, I’m sorry for being honest for once in my life! I’ll never say it again if it bothers you that much!” The young man said as his face twisted into an expression of aggravation.

“‘Honest?’’ you doubted his foggy sincerity. “In what world have you ever been honest, Leona? For all I know, what you said earlier could have been some sick lie you created to make me act a fool of myself!” The thunder above then crashed and roared, while strong winds caused even the trees to sway in an uncontrollable rhythm. Your flowing locks of hair were now absolutely doused by water as rain continued to pour down the ground like Mother Nature herself had controlled the weather based on your raging emotions. You and Leona did not seem to care for the shaping storm, however, as you were much too focused on each other to mind what had gone on around you.

“So what if I’m in love with you?!” Leona shortly gave out, “Is that so wrong? Do we have a problem here, Prefect?!”

“Yes, we have a problem because I love you too, you asshole!” Freezing in your place on the empty field, you paused at your own impulsive words. No, wait! (Y/n), what are you saying?! You weren’t supposed to confess too, damn it! You mentally scolded yourself. “I…I mean—What I meant to say was—”

“Then run away with me,” the lion prince interrupted. “I swear this is the craziest thing I’ve ever said. Just escape with me for today and I’ll prove how honest I am.” Leona earnestly looked into your hesitant eyes and for the first time ever, seemed as if he was entirely true to his word. It moved your heart in ways you did not think were possible.

Had this really been the Leona you knew…?

“Sevens, I can’t believe I’m saying this—” he said as he uncharacteristically dragged a hand across his face—covering a small rosy hue tinting his cheeks. “Come with me before I change my mind, herbivore. I’m not saying it twice.”

“Please just… give me a chance, okay?”

a/n: anon i'd also just like to add that i am blaming you for my new fixation bc i had never watched or read Pride and Prejudice before, but for this specific request i watched the 2005 movie and it was the most amazing thing i have ever stumbled upon like i think the story bewitched me body and soul- i am forever in your debt anon cuz once i have the time to actually read jane austen's books i can guarantee that i will make it my whole personality omg i am in love idk why i haven't read her work sooner THANK U SM ANON

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #gender neutral reader #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona twisted wonderland #leona twst #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #savanaclaw #blossom grove prompt event

294 notes · View notes

armpirate · 1 year

Text

The Only One || JJK || Ch. 4

Pairings: mafia!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, mafia, contract relationship

Warnings: Prostitution, torture, blood, use of drugs and weapons

Summary: You've always wished for a better life. Every single day at work, you were hoping something would change. Although you didn't think that change would come in the form of one mysterious man and a contract.

His controlling and selfish behaviour only wanted to keep you away from any other man that wasn't him, and you only had to wait for him.

Too bad you really thought you'd be smarter than Jeon Jungkook.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Y/n woke up that morning as she usually did. Cleaned her room, got a shower and prepared breakfast for Jorge and Carla -who were getting ready for their respectives day as well.

—How was work last night? —Jorge casually asked, while he sipped on his coffee.

Memories from a few hours back kept replaying in her head. His possessive gaze, his safe grip on her wrists as he fucked her however he wanted... and how he left her wanting more. Even more than what he gave her.

—Nothing interesting —she shrugged, drawing the conversation back to the little lie she formed to protect herself and them—. Rich mommy kids acting entitled because they think they own everything.

Of course Jorge didn't know about her job. She wasn't sure whether he'd judged her for her decision of working in that club, but she for sure didn't want to risk it. Not to mention his poor heart condition and the consequences that information could have. Jorge was better off thinking she was working at a club serving drinks.

—Fucking pricks —Carla shook her head.

—Language —Jorge scolded her, smacking her forehead with the rolled newspaper he had in his hand.

Obviously he didn't hit her hard, but it still made his daughter pucker her lips annoyed, knowing she's heard worse words on TV during lunch time. But probably she wouldn't be getting scolded now if she hadn't insulted someone from her advanced math support class.

—You better apologize today —Y/n warned her—, with your classmate and your teacher. Using someone's dead family members to curse them isn't right. And even less because he got one answer right.

—He stole my answer.

—I don't care —she stopped her—. Just admit you did something wrong and move on.

When Jorge welcomed Y/n into the family, she was eighteen and Carla was only ten. She was still just a kid. With time, she grew out to be an older sister for her, with all the responsibilities that came with it. She picked her up from school, went to school meetings because Jorge wasn't able to attend while being hospitalized, helped her to study... That's why it wasn't surprising Carla listened to her and simply nodded when Y/n was planning to have the last word to set the discussion to an end.

After finishing breakfast, the youngest one left for school while they were left picking up everything on the table. At least it was like that until Y/n basically forced Jorge to sit down and let her do everything.

—Thank you —he said, not moving his eyes away from her.

—It's the least I can do —she pointed out, still doing the dishes.

—No, it's not —he sighed—. You help Carla with everything, you worry about my medicine and doctor appointments, bring money to the house...

They had that same conversation way too many times through the weeks. It's been that exact same discussion ever since she settled in his house and started working to help him pay the rent. And the conversation got a more serious note after he came back home after the heart attack.

—And you saved my life —she smiled, sitting next to him—. I still owe a lot to you.

—I did what anyone else would've done —he pinched her chin fondly.

Not really though. Her parents didn't, so why would she think it was normal for a stranger to pick her up from the streets and help her to this day?

It made no sense at all. But whatever it was, she had clear she'd be forever thankful to everything he has done for her.

Later in the morning, Y/n found herself buying food she never thought she'd be buying if it weren't for that tip she got last night. Shellfish, veal, fresh vegetables and fruits... And she still had some more money left. Actually, she still had more than half of the money that client gave her.

And she was so close to leaving the superstore, until she saw the technology department and she remembered Carla ranting about needing a new laptop, because hers would get lagged every five minutes -not a surprise though, she got that from a friend in the club that didn't need it anymore. Actually, she was lucky enough to actually get it to work.

Y/n didn't know how many times she'd be given that amount of money again, or how many times she'd be given the chance to make them two happy with a good lunch and a new laptop -that actually was new.

She left the store with two bags full of food and a small laptop box, and knowing she wouldn't be able to get on a bus with all that stuff, she called a cab with the remaining amount she managed to keep.

Whoever that client was, gave her the fuck of her life and the best amount of money to spend on the people she cared for the most.

Too bad he was one of those rare cases and she wouldn't see him again.

✸ ✸ ✸

Jungkook was sitting on the balcony of his hotel room, trying hard to focus on something else that wasn't the girl from last night. He'd tried to keep his mind busy with business, but his hard cock always reminded him his mind was still on what happened the previous night. And those new pics of her, taken from a safe distance, weren't of help. She was wearing a simple outfit: black jeans, white t-shirt and a denim jacket; but he could swear seeing her in those clothes and with her real hair on display, made him want her even more.

—She lives with a man and a girl —Yejun pointed out—. Guess they're her uncle and cousin, by what her neighbors told us.

—Anything that could be harmful?

—No —he shrugged—. But it's not like a morning could give away enough who she actually is. To get real answers, I need to do a follow up for a bit longer.

—It's alright —he looked at every picture carefully.

It amazed him how, although he did everything he could to her, he still found himself thinking about all the things he wanted to do to her body. He found himself imagining how her breathless voice would sound while moaning his name, at least once.

Pedro wasn't lying when he said she was one of his best girls. Tasted her, and he didn't want to be with anyone else.

Which actually made him think...

How many men would have the privilege to have what he experienced last night? To be looked at the same way she looked at him, to sink in her and feel her walls wrapping perfectly around them... It was messing with his brain to think about the possibility of somebody else being able to fully have her. And not only once, or twice...

—Yejun, postpone my flight.

—Postpone? —he almost stepped outside the balcony, but remained behind the window frame.

—I need to have one last meeting with Pedro —he informed.

—Should I inform mister Park as well?

—No —Jungkook lifted his hand—. But tell Seongho to call me.

Yejun was confused at those sudden commands from his boss. Postponing the flight was weird -especially coming from someone who only left the country because he was basically forced to. But he thought that maybe he'd want to spend more time with Jimin. But when he mentioned Pedro, and one of his lawyers instead, he showed himself totally lost on what Jungkook could be doing on his own.

Bowing, Yejun got himself deeper in the room to be in contact with both men, and also canceled the flight they were supposed to be taking that night to postpone it to the next evening.

A few hours later, Jungkook was heading to have lunch with Pedro, while Seongho was still working on all the paperwork that he was told to get ready for the night. The bearded man was surprised to see his new partner there, when he was first assured they'd barely see each other after the previous night's meeting.

But there he was.

Jungkook was sitting at one of the tables, placed in the corner of the terrace of the expensive restaurant. One leg crossed over the other, one hand on his lap and the other on the table, playing with the napkin as he focused on the rays of sunshine shining bright on the sea.

—Mister Jeon —Pedro greeted him with a smile, getting his attention—. What a delightful surprise.

Just lifting his hand and pointing to the free chair in front of him, he invited the bearded man to join him for lunch.

—Was there anything left to discuss last night?

—Actually, yes —Jungkook finally shifted his eyes back to the man in front of him.

—I'm all ears.

He thought about how he'd introduce the fact that he was so hooked on Love that he didn't want to share her with anyone else, even if he wasn't going to see her as often. Or probably he would. It depended on how he played his cards.

—I want one of your girls to be included on the deal.

At first, Pedro cackled, thinking Jungkook was kidding or had a better offer to be demanding something like that, but his serious expression just confirmed how serious he was about that.

—I heard she was good, but that good? —he lifted his eyebrows surprised— I know you think your dick is big enough to demand something like that from me, but don't forget who has the upper hand here.

—You made me come here, although the deal was sealed days ago with Jimin —Jungkook squinted his eyes, still showing himself as peaceful as he could be—. You made me waste my time. I showed you how deep into this business I am, and I'll be expanding your distribution route... I think the least I deserve is a souvenir for this trip.

—And Love is that souvenir? —Pedro puckered his lips.

—You can have her working there, you can even use her as a dancer —Jungkook tilted his head—. But she's exclusive, she's mine from now on.

Giving him a challenging look, Pedro just smirked at that idea. He had a lot of girls to rely on anyway, and that girl wasn't even one of the best for him -especially when he started hearing the rumors that she was planning on leaving soon -as soon as she got money to pay for some extra things. Giving Jungkook something that he knew would be temporary, wouldn't only earn more trust but would also tighten the relationship between them.

He'd be the winning party on that.

—Good luck on getting her to agree —he finally pointed, giving a sip to his cup of wine.

—Don't worry about that —he shrugged—. I know she will. You should just worry about not letting anyone else put their hands on her while I'm away. The responsibility will be all yours if that ever happens.

✸ ✸ ✸

Lopes sneaked his head through the door as the girls started getting ready to hunt some men to please. All of them, including Y/n, were ready to move their bodies on the pole and full some dudes' ears with empty promises and flattery.

The dressing room was usually a mess, full of makeup, wigs and women running around half naked or with their costumes unzipped. But that day especially, it was even worse. The arrival of a new girl, who barely spoke their language -like most of them when they came here-, got them all nervous about the situation. At least, this time, the girl seemed of age.

But Y/n still wondered what brought her here. And considering she seemed like someone from the East of Europe, that barely spoke their language -and the few words had a strong russian accent-, she knew that girl wasn't there by choice. And was probably being fooled into believing she'd get all the legal needed documents to live there.

If only she knew there were girls in here, like Anya, that have been reduced to this job for more than six years...

—She'll be taking someone's place —Amira mentioned, making Y/n turn to her—. Apparently one of us will be sold to someone else.

It was the simplicity in which the auburn mentioned that detail that made her turn to her confused.

Yes, Y/n herself was fooled into believing she'd be earning fast money when she was desperate, but that was still her choice. She knew of other girls that were kidnapped and auctioned off so they'd end there. Or, like Anya's case, fooled into believing she'd be getting a better future after working there. The idea of being sold to someone, just being treated as an object or a piece of meat, disgusted her. But it was what they were for all those men.

Trying to comfort her, Amira placed her hands on her shoulders and pressed lightly, trying to recomfort her for what was to come.

At that point, any of them could be the one leaving.

—Love, room eleven.

She looked confused. She didn't have time to expose herself or show the black lace lingerie set she was wearing under the sexy secretary costume she chose for that night. But when she was going to ask about it, Lopes was already gone.

He gave her the information, and now she only had to go there and deal with whatever middle-aged man was waiting for her.

Unconsciously, her high heels rubbed against the floor constantly, as she dragged her body to that room again.

Was that going to be the new place where she would work?

Her heart dropped to her pussy when her eyes laid on that same fine man from last night. The ticklish feeling on her belly every time she remembered the previous night intensified as she closed the door behind her. And mentally she was thanking every possible god, even those who didn't exist, for giving her that experience not once, but twice. When she touched herself last night, she genuinely thought that was going to be the only way to remember vividly everything that happened. But she was wrong.

Jungkook could almost feel his cock tensing in his pants when she showed up wearing a short tight skirt and a vest that put her cleavage on full display.

He'd have fucked her as soon as she crossed the door if it hadn't been for the contract that was waiting on his back. He also thought it was funny how she tried to act with confidence, when her eyes were shining with excitement as soon as she was aware of his presence.

—Coming back for more? —she raised her thin eyebrow, walking to him.

—Coming back for you —he replied with a deep voice.

But before Y/n could walk closer to him, he separated their bodies with a pile of sheets divided into two, full of characters -half in a language she didn't understand, and the other half in Spanish.

"Service agreement" just reading those two words, made her raise the contract and ask with her eyes what was going on.

Taglist: @kaiparkerwifes @sheylamc

#fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #tattoistjk #mafia!au #The Only One #armpirate

54 notes · View notes

stupid-sloot-headcanons · 3 months

Text

Infinite Wealth spoilers

Ok Eiji is so cartoonishly evil and such a slimy manipulate cunt, he's getting hit with the yandere/dark content beam for sure

Like he's not even that attractive outside of being a ridiculously manipulative piece of shit. He throws a tied up child down a flight of stairs and tear gasses her and the people trying to save her, what a fucking heel

Imagine him using the lidocaine and intentionally preying on Darling's kindness the same way he did Ichiban. Like they're at the hideout and he reaches too far for something only to fall and sheepishly apologize/thank them when they help him back into the chair. He wishes he could be more useful to the team instead of just using his tech skills. He's not strong like Ichiban...like you. Whenever you're out there with the group, he can't help but worry about you. If he could walk and fight, he'd be out there to protect you himself. Um...y-you know, as a fellow member of the team!

Or he'll do the stereotypical creep shit by asking you to get something he left on the ground earlier, just because it's across the room and he'd rather not wheel himself all the way there and back. And if Chitose is there and notices what he's up to, she glares at him and constantly tries to keep you away from him but won't explain why she's in such a weird mood. Just when she thought he couldn't be any slimier...

Just for kicks he decides to have the Barracudas take you AND Lani. After all, who's gonna stop him? A Yakuza like Ichiban? Eiji's researched so many crimes committed by the Yakuza over the years, and so many of those fuckers use and abuse women they think they're owed--typically bullies and lechers. Someone like Ichiban has no right to lecture him about honor and hurting innocents given who and what he is. Now EIJI'S the one with power, and he'll use anyone he wants.

So when the Barracudas bust in, he takes advantage of the chaos and stabs one of your thighs with a syringe of his lidocaine. As you stumble and fight to get to Lani, one of the goons throws you over his shoulder and hauls you into the car with Lani and Eiji. He's got an hour or so before his latest dose wears off and he can walk again, but you've got about 8 left before you can.

Once the brat's been stowed away, he has you handcuffed and has the guys guarding him stand outside. Your anger and sadness and betrayal is so funny, cute even. Ichiban wasn't the only one eager to play Florence Nightingale with him, but he has to admit he liked it better when you were the one he was leaning on. He has a nasty smile on his face as he lazily gropes you, moving his hands lower as you squirm.

"You know, I can see why the Yakuza like doing what they do. I had my life ruined because I tried to expose the actions of some selfish, evil pricks. Scum who took advantage of everyone they could, and destroyed everyone they couldn't. It's a rush, having that kind of power. But now, I get to do the exact same thing to them and anyone else in my way. I'm the one on top--in this case, literally, with you."

He's such a bully now that he can finally go mask off after all this time. See, the moment he saw you with Ichiban and the others, he knew you didn't belong. You're too nice, and unlike with Ichiban, it's genuine. A Yakuza like Ichiban, a former gangster's lackey like Tomizawa, a spoiled rich girl like Chitose...you're the only one whose biggest crime is being too naive and trusting. You really fell for Ichiban's Hero of Yokohama bullshit AND Eiji's puppy-eyed wheelchair-bound routine. That just proves you're too trusting and stupid to leave alone. At least now, you're with someone who's not pretending to be good and righteous like Ichiban.

That rush of power he feels while manhandling you and seeing you struggle in a futile attempt to convince him to stop, to get away, it's so gratifying. You really are cute when you're upset. He tells you every thought he had to keep to himself while pretending to be "Ei-chan" while touching you:

How he saw your lip quiver when you listened so intently to his sob story because you were trying not to cry and make him feel bad, and he was so thankful the meds had numbed his lower half and kept him from getting hard. How he invited you to look at him do his hacking and research just so you'd look over his shoulder and he could feel you brush against him. How when the others were patching you up after a tough fight and you'd let out those little whines/moans of relief, he had a dream later that night about you making those same sounds while he diddled you in the hideout (with one hand clapped over your mouth so you wouldn't attract the attention of the others in the next room)

Well, it's not that cramped hideout and it's just the two of you now, but at least he can make that dream come true.

#tw: noncon #.eiji #.yakuza #.like a dragon #yandere yakuza #yandere eiji #.myshit

13 notes · View notes

lost-in-sokovia · 1 year

Text

i just feel you.

this came to me the other night when i was trying to fall asleep and i truly just fell in love with the idea🥺 it’s so fluffy and lovely💕

warnings: fluff with no plot, postpartum depression, written on a whim

you had heard it would be difficult, but you never imagined it would take a toll to this extent on you.

since having your beautiful daughter, annie, you had been struggling with postpartum depression. you knew this was a thing that many mothers struggled with, so you knew you weren’t alone in your experience. it tended to hit especially hard when you would nurse annie; you knew you had joby, and you knew you had your daughter, but you still somehow felt completely alone in the world and as if you were left to fight alone.

joby wanted to help you, he truly did. he would hold you once annie was down and would let you cry in his arms and on his chest all you wanted. joby was not the best with emotions, you both knew that, but the fact he pushed past his awkwardness to do the best he could for you meant something.

you wanted to feel anything, you wanted to feel him.

you let out a deep sigh when you heard your two month old begin to fuss in her pack ‘n play in the middle of the living room. you were snuggled against joby and mindlessly watching tv with him as he ran his long fingers through your hair. the pit began to form in your stomach knowing that your mood was about to decrease significantly more than it already was. you barely had the energy to do anything lately, even things to take care of yourself, and though you adored and loved your daughter with your whole heart, you dreaded nursing.

you sat up and broke out of joby’s grip, swallowing as your eyes brimmed with tears. the selfish part of you wanted to let her cry, wanted to wean her from breastfeeding and instead give her formula. you heard her unhappy little cries and your heart wrenched as you fought your thoughts.

joby noticed your stoic state, not moving to grab your daughter. he blinked, a bit startled by your lack of energy.

“baby?” he asked hesitantly. your head barely shook, the nerve endings in your body beginning to prick as you tried not to cry.

“i don’t want to do it, joby,” you whispered brokenly. joby exhaled quietly but shakily, he didn’t need to ask you any more to know what you didn’t want to do. it hurt, seeing his beautiful girlfriend and mother of his daughter struggle so much to feed her baby. every day he grew more and more worried about your depression and he wished there was a way he could do better to help you.

“what can i do?” he asked quietly.

you wanted to feel him. you wanted to feel him.

you took a deep breath and turned over your shoulder to meet joby’s green eyes, filled with concern and worry. you opened your mouth but hesitated, worried how he would take what you were about to say.

“will you take off your shirt?” you asked meekly. joby blinked, a bit surprised at your request. he began to respond but you quickly cut him off. “please don’t make this a sexual thing, that’s not what i want,” you begged weakly. that sentence struck joby’s heart. the quiet beg for him not to make something sexual was like a dagger to the softer side of him. it wasn’t your fault, he did have a reputation to turn anything he could into some sort of sexual situation. joby swallowed and shook his head at you, eyes like a puppy; he wanted to do better than that, he didn’t want you to have to ask him things like that anymore.

“i won’t, i promise,” he replied gently. you nodded and slowly began to take off your tank top, joby following with his dark gray t-shirt. you stood up and began to slip off your sweatpants and joby watched.

“should i take mine off too?” he asked. you nodded and he rolled his sweatpants off as well. you were both left in your underwear, you looking nervously at joby and him looking back at you so softly. annie’s cries had increased and you hesitantly took her out of the small pen. she was in a white little onesie and her dark hair was all a mess, her soft little face pink as she cried and whined.

“my baby…” you cooed quietly, bouncing her lightly. you sat back down and joby opened his legs, you scooting back between them and pressing your back to his chest.

“let’s take hers off, too, hm?” joby suggested gently. you nodded and joby reached around you, humming as he helped you take the soft onesie off your daughter’s writhing little body. she was left in her diaper and you took another deep breath to calm your nerves, telling yourself you were going to be fine. you nuzzled as closely to joby as you possibly could and he placed his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your stomach as annie latched onto you, her cries completely stopping as she began to nurse.

“good job, peanut,” joby whispered to his daughter. you leaned your head back onto his shoulder, the feeling of joby’s body around yours and annie’s little body in your arms making you feel at home. you were so connected to the two people you loved the most, and you didn’t feel that luring sense of loneliness and isolation as you fed your baby. love and comfort overtook your senses and for once, you weren’t crying out of sadness.

“how do you feel, baby?” joby asked softly, nuzzling his nose against your ear. you sniffled and your chest shook as you took a shaky breath, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“loved,” you whimpered back. you felt joby smile and kiss your earlobe, his arms giving you a loving squeeze as annie made little squeaking noises as she nursed calmly.

“good job, mama. good job,” joby cooed quietly to you. you were completely relaxed in his arms and you allowed the tears to flow silently down your cheeks as joby kissed everywhere he could and cooed gentle praises to you.

“i love you,” he added. you held annie a bit closer to you, feeling the wonder that comes with being a mother and being able to nourish your child from your own body. this is what you deserved.

“i love you, i love you too,” you choked back.

never in your life had you felt more connected to both joby and annie at the same time, and it was a feeling you hoped to have more often.

#joby taylor x reader #joby taylor x you #joby taylor #joby taylor x y/n #for ellen #annie hendrix taylor #paul dano #paul dano x you #paul dano fanfic #paul dano x reader #paul dano fanfiction

59 notes · View notes

blvckqwz · 5 months

Text

The Cure

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Abraham raised his glass as the dim light of the candles made his red hair even more red.

Isabelle tugged the cloth wrapped around her arm nervously as she rested her head on her uncle’s arm. Her arm was broken, Sasha’s boyfriend Bob had fixed it by immobilizing her arm with a cloth and using a stick as a makeshift splint. He said that if she had hidden it for a bit longer, her arm would have forever been deformed and she could have died because of infections. He didn’t say that to her, but she could hear him whisper to her father while she was supposed to sleep. He also said that she had a concussion thanks to the asshole who banged her head against a table. So that was why she was currently sleeping even more than little Judith.

“I look around this room,” Abraham continued, “… and I see survivors.” Survivors. Isabelle felt the urge to scoff but that would be very rude. Why were they survivors? Because they were willing to kill? Because a series of lucky turns?

Why was she a survivor? Because she killed that man before he could do the same to her? Because she listened to her mother when she told her to run and left her behind?

“Each and every one of you has earned that title.” The man said.

Isabelle didn’t feel like she deserved to be called a survivor. She didn’t feel like she deserved to be a survivor.

Abraham raised his glass above his head, “To the survivors.” He spoke.

And everyone raised their glass and cheered. Isabelle didn’t have a glass for obvious reasons, and even if she did she wouldn’t be able to raise it. Her right arm was broken and it felt weird to do stuff with the other one. So she kept tugging the cloth around her numb arm as she watched the people around her.

It felt weird to see so many people together. It looked like something from the world before. Warm food, warm building and warm hearts for the first time in months.

“That’s all you wanna be?” Abraham asked, “"Wake up in the morning, fight the undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep at night with two eyes open, rinse and repeat?"

Isabelle knew where this was going, and she didn’t like it one bit. Abraham wanted to go to Washington so that the goofy man he kept dragging along would find the cure to stop the dead from rising. She knew that it made her selfish, wishing that things didn’t go back to how they were, but she didn’t know if she would be able to go back. How could she be able to go back to her old trailer? To sleep in her old bed? To go to school everyday and get her braids pulled by the kids and see the other girls whisper things in each others’ ears when she walks past them?

She was thirteen, maybe fourteen, years old, but to her it felt like her life had started just two years ago when a turned Naomi walked into her yard. The world before wasn’t made for her, it had nothing to offer.

And for the first time her dad cared about her. It was still a forging feeling, his callous fingers running through her hair as she slept or his voice speaking to her like it would to a normal person and not a dog, but it was good. Isabelle wasn’t sure if he would still care if they weren’t in a life death situation anymore.

"'Cause you can do that," Abraham said, "I mean, you got the strength. You got the skill. Thing is, for you people, for what you can do, that's just surrender.” He turned to the strange man, “Now, we get Eugene to Washington and he will make the dead die and the living will have this world again. And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip. Eugene, what's in DC?"

"Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude. That means food, fuel, refuge. Restart." Eugene explained.

He had an odd way of speaking, and Isabelle envied him a bit because it made him sound very smart. But it also made his mound a bit foolish and Isabelle didn’t eny that.

"However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you been since this whole thing started," Abraham spoke again, now turning to look at Rick "Come with us. Save the world for that little one," Abraham continued, looking down at Judith. "Save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there... who don't got nothing left to do except survive."

Isabelle didn’t think about Judith, but Abraham was right. They had to make things right for the little girl in Rick’s arm. She was selfish for not thinking about it before, but now she did, and everything changed. Judith had to stay safe.

She looked up at her uncle, who was looking at her dad. Wherever her dad went, they would follow. It had always been like this. Because they were family. Her dad was looking at Rick. Isabelle figured that he would follow Rick, so they also would have to follow Rick. She guessed that made them all a bit of a family.

It was good, because then she would be with Carl. And she would get to talk to him everyday. But if things went back to how they were, the Grimes would go back to their old house with white picket fences and where moms made pancakes every Sunday, and they couldn’t follow them. And Rick would be a cop again, and he would have to arrest her dad and her uncle.

The thought made Isabelle sick. But if things went back to normal Judith would be able to go to a real school and have a real future. And Maggie would find her sister again. And everyone would be safe again.

Maybe having to go back to normal was a little price to pay for everyone to be happy.

Judith cooed in Rick’s arms, making the man laugh, “What was that?” He asked as he watched with adoring eyes his daughter. Everyone laughed a bit at the interaction, including Isabelle, even if she was basically half asleep at that point.

“I think she knows what I'm about to say," Rick said. Judith cooed again, as to prove Rick’s point. "She's in. If she's in, I'm in." He announced, “We're in."

Cheers erupted as everyone clapped. It was good to see everyone happy, even if Isabelle wasn’t so sure if she shared the same feeling. But it was like Rick said, they were in, even if she didn’t like that.

“I’m goin’ out for a bit.” Daryl said as he walked in front of her. Isabelle knew it was a code for Merle to say to look after her, and even if she wanted to say that she didn’t need a babysitter, she kept her mouth shut. Lucky for her Merle didn’t seem to want to babysit her either.

“Okay, let’s go.” He said as he got up, “Wha’? I ain’t stayin’ here while ma baby brother is out there in tha dark.” Daryl just shrugged, “Didn’t say anythin’” He grumbled before he went towards the door. He turned around to look at Isabelle, who was already looking at him, “Stay uh… stay out of trouble, yeah?” He murmured.

This whole parenting shit was new for him, Isabelle figured, which made her just as awkward. So she just nodded before turning on her heels and going towards Carl, who was sitting in the back of the church.

Isabelle tapped on his shoulder, making the boy turn around before she slipped next to him on the other side and stabbed a few of the beans he was eating with her fork, eating them.

“Hey! Those are mine.” The boy protested as he turned around again to give a dirty look to the girl next to him.

“God says that you have to share.” She said as she took another bite of his food, “Plus I’m sick, I need proteins.”

Carl scoffed, “You are so annoying it’s unbelievable.” He shook his head.

“Hey, when you were sick I helped, the least you could do is feed me.” She replied, “This is the Lord’s house.” “Then ask him for some beans.” He mumbled, “Where’s your dad?” He changed the subject.

To Carl it felt a bit weird to think that Isabelle was a Dixon, but it did explain her quirks. Like the total disinterest of what was socially acceptable, for exemple eating someone else's food.

But Isabelle said that her dad was an asshole, and even if Carl wasn’t really close to Daryl, he never thought he was the kind of asshole to leave his children behind. Carl had heard a worried Maggie telling Rick something about Daryl a few days ago, something about how he treated Isabelle, but his father had sent him away before he could really understand what it was about.

“I dunno.” Isabelle replied, “I don’t think he likes stayin’ in a church.”

“But this isn’t a church anymore.” The boy argued.

She shrugged, “Maybe it’s because we are like twenty people all in one room.” Her dad was just like that sometimes. He hated small places, he hated being in one place for too much time. He was a bit of a nomadic person, Isabelle thought.

“Isabelle?” Carl called, making the girl snap out of her thought to look at him. She hummed in response as he watched the boy nervously fidget with his fingers.

“Are we friends?” He asked.

“Yeah of course we are.”

Friends.

She wondered what friends did. She had only one friend, but it was a girl and it was her babysitter so it really didn’t count. What did friends do? She couldn’t answer that, especially in times like these. But she liked being friends with Carl, even if they didn’t do anything in particular. Maybe that's what friends did, they just hung out doing whatever.

“Okay.” Carl said, “I have to tell you something… but you can’t tell anyone.”

Isabelle shifted closer to the boy as she waited for the secret to be spilled. She was good at keeping secrets, at least she thought. She never really had to keep a big secret before, except for when Naomi told her about her boyfriend and running away. And Isabelle didn't say anything, so she must be good at keeping secrets.

“I… I saw something. Outside.” Carl admitted, “It was written on the wall.” He said, “No it wasn’t really written… more like engraved.” “What did it say?” The girl asked.

“You will burn for this.” He replied, “Why would someone write that?”

“Maybe…” Isabelle trailed off, the anxious monster in her stomach waking up, “Maybe he isn’t a good person.” She whispered as she watched Father Gabriel talk to Rick.

“But what if he is?” Carl shook his head, “Not everyone can be bad.”

“Carl, why would someone write that if he was good?”

“I don’t know but he doesn’t seem like someone capable of doing bad things.” Isabelle could hear that he genuinely meant it, but she wasn’t sure if she could share the same hope.

The doors opened with a thud, revealing Merle on the other side. Something wasn’t right, Isabelle thought as she said goodbye to Carl and hurried to her uncle.

“Where’s dad?” She asked as she looked up to him. He seemed angry and shaken, and if Isabelle didn’t know better she would say that he was drunk.

“Outside.” He just said, “He needs to think ‘bout a few things.”

“Whut happened?”

Her uncle rubbed his hand over his face as he sighed, “I jus’ gave ‘im a talk.”

“Bout what?” The girl questioned. It was odd to see her uncle act like a big brother to her dad after all.

“Grown ups business.” He replied, “Go to sleep.” So Isabelle just nodded and went to sleep, noticing that the church looked more empty. Bob and Carol were also outside, she realized. She could hear the door open as she drifted off to sleep. Maybe it was her father.

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

Filler aaa chapter fr. But I needed to feel the void and I didn't feel like writing about Gareth and his gang yet.

#fanfic #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x oc #isabelle dixon #lost kids ff

13 notes · View notes

ownedbythescribe · 1 year

Text

Kaedehara Kazuha | Not For You

ıllı Synopsis: Letting go of what you think is the best thing of your life can be hard. But, fate has something in store for you. A better future you would not even expect.

ıllı Genre: Angst, Comfort

ıllı Notes: Gender Neutral Reader

ıllı A/N: Just a short story before I take a break. It’s a bit of self-indulgent too. Sometimes, loving somebody can hurt, but we have to take a deep breath and look past that pain.

Autumn, the season when the leaves turn from verdant green to alluring shades of crimson red and vermillion. They languidly fall to the ground as the wind gets a bit chiller, pricking at anyone’s sensitive skin. Breathing in frigid air feels like drinking mint juice, a cool sensation harrows through the chest. It may be nice to some but for others.

Glancing up, you reached your hand to take the fallen maple leaf. It was a shame that so many goodbyes seemed to happen when autumn came, whether between family, friends, or lovers.

“And maybe, it’s time for me to say mine as well.” You muttered, watching the figures not far from you frolic by the sea. Both their eyes shone with adoration and happiness, feelings that he would never reciprocate. Not when he had already found the one he wished to be with for the rest of his life.

You stared at the maple leaf in your hand and thought about the subtle changes in your relationship. It was vague when it started, but eventually, you drifted apart from each other. Hazily remembering their first encounter, you suspected that it must have been love at first sight.

Your friend sent you a letter that the Yae Publishing House accepted her as a new writer. You recalled being ecstatic about it because that would mean she would be moving to Inazuma. When she arrived, you toured her around, introducing her to locals and prominent people in the country. It only took one smile for her to pierce the heart of Kamisato Ayato.

“Delighted to meet you, Miss. I hope you enjoy your stay in Inazuma. Should you require assistance, please don’t hesitate to inquire Thoma about it.” He offered. It was pretty strange for Ayato to proffer help to strangers. You thought that he was just being kind.

Each week, you saw them meet up with each other. There were even rumors that the Yashiro Commissioner fancied the new writer as they would be seen dining together and enjoying their private time. It pained your heart to know the man you loved for years fell for a woman he had recently met. All your efforts to remember his favorite food, place, and gifts were thrown out the window.

In the end, Ayato officially asked her to become his lover. The news circulated around Inazuma. Many were devastated that the elegant and attractive Kamisato Head was already taken. Some sent envious looks their way, but his periwinkle eyes were only set on your friend’s. You were forgotten to the sides. Like a toy he had grown out of.

“If I become selfish and tell you my feelings, I will be forever hated. So, I will try to let go. But can I truly let go?” You uttered to the wind. You wanted to be angry, yell at him that you loved him for years, and ask him why he could not look at you. But his eyes said it all. He had a gleam in them that said, ‘Ah, she’s the one. I mustn’t let her go’.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and one by one, they fell like rain on a stormy night. Your chest felt tight at the ache. As he departed from your grasp, he also took with him a part of you who dedicated their selves to a man of his standing.

A shaky sigh left your lips as you let go of the maple leaf and his last gift in your hand. You watched the water carry it away, far from your sight. Suddenly, a handkerchief appeared in front of you. You looked up to see a man with platinum blond hair, a red streak on the side, and soft crimson eyes. A kind smile was etched on his face. He reminded you of maple trees, not just because of his outfit but because of his aura. He sat by your side and asked.

“Tears do not suit you, Milady, but if I may, why do you weep?” He was gentle with his words. You dabbed your face with his handkerchief and ruefully answered.

“I just let go of what I thought was the best thing in my life. How can I be all right?” There was a light deride in your tone in the end, one you did not mean. He understood where the hostility was coming from.

“Fate must have led you somewhere else. To someone better, one who completes the emptiness in your heart. Fate is fickle, but its intricacy is beautiful.” He retorted.

You were silenced. It was as if the heartache was washed away by Kazuha's alacrity and confidence. It felt like he had been with fate for years. He understood the reason why somebody’s life was weaved the way it was. His flowery words mended the fissure of your heart. Taking in a deep breath, you turned to him.

“You may be right, but it still hurt. I’m not sure how long I will heal, but I know I can try and be happy for them. Thank you, dear stranger.” You smiled. His crimson eyes creased in delight.

“Kazuha. Kaedehara Kazuha is my name, Milady.” Kazuha replied. You stood up and gave him your name. He was happy to learn your name but more to see that your heart felt at ease. No more turbulent storms were raging in you. The wind whispered that the emotions in you were clouds of acceptance and rays of hope.

“If I may be so bold, do you wish to take a stroll with me through the Chinju Forest, (Y/N)? The bakedanukis might be out for their tricks, but the place is a beauty.” He invited. There were thousands of words dancing in his eyes that you were drawn to. You took his hand and reflected the smile on his lips.

“I’ll take you on that offer.” You grinned. The wind blew between you two, and you found yourself looking forward to meeting him again after this day. Be it in your dreams or by the same beach he found you.

This meeting was a small bud waiting to blossom. Whether it was love or simply friendship, only time could tell. There was no need to rush as the scars of previous affection and longing remained fresh. If anything else, this made you realize that there was a suitable time and person for everything.

Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #angst #comfort #romance #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader

39 notes · View notes

glowinthedarkzombie · 4 months

Text

maybe if she didn’t want a completely emotionally detached daughter she shouldn’t have started acting like one. you’re allowed to feel and heal from your trauma, i just dont know why you think it literally gives you the right to abuse me??? surprise!! when you treat people like that, the only healthy response is to stay the fuck away from you. congratulations bitch, on making sure as hell that i knew you would never mean anything to me when i was older.

the only thing im still hung up on is “lowered my standards” what the fuck do you think you meant by that, mandy?

i know my mother. all you racist millennial white women are the fucking same. fucking copy and paste bitch. she has no fucking idea how there is a literal community dedicated to picking apart her personality and finding out why she is the way she is. she has no fucking clue that i knew everything years before she did.

something i really wish i could rub in her face is the fact that she is the sole reason my standards are so fucking low. that stupid bitch never taught me any real life skills. all she deadass TAUGHT me was how to bathe myself and she didn’t even fully do that right! again, white woman. i learned so much from other people growing up, i learned everything waaaayyy later than i fucking should have because of that selfish fucking prick. i know how fucking clean myself i can cook at least WAY more than she ever taught me, i know how to clean my fucking mouth, i know now how to CORRECTLY take care of my hair (at least a lot better than what she taught me wtf was that bitch doing fr) i learned most things after i moved out of my mom’s at 14.

i remember when she would rant and rant about mexicans. about how they “never work hard” “never watch their kids” “blah fucking blah” ohhh but if you DARE call her racist!! she lumps all hispanic people together. she sees a brown man with a car bigger/better than hers and she just gets so fucking racist. “he didn’t work for that car” guess what bitch you were actually white trash as hell not because of mexicans but actually because you have zero fucking financial skills. literally fucking none bitch.

ooooh she would be so fucking jealous of my besties parents. and i mean JEALOUS jealous. My mother would literally not be able to comprehend all the ways in which they have worked so hard. She wouldn’t fucking know HOW she has been so single minded and doing the same things forever, knowing the same things forever. i mean look who she’s raised by. her level of comprehension is just too low. i understood that as a child. there are far too many things that woman will never understand. not that she isn’t allowed, but when have ignorant racist white women ever not let me down?

i just hope that lil girls okay. i had a dream about my brother ryan. it scared me. i thought it was real. that bitch can wallow. nothing i say ever fucking helps anyway.

0 notes

hennythejetsmith · 5 months

Text

Feelings 12/12.. I think?

My grandfather thought they were killing him. I'm not sure if this was before or after he attempted to wrap the cords around his own neck in the hospital; Oxy is never good. I wish I never knew how good they hurt recreationally... They removed a tumor from his brain & he's left by himself among a people that are paid to care for him at night.. they weren't there in line waiting at White Castle while he told a story from his childhood that fell on deaf ears because two boys from different worlds come together, their grandfathers happen to be brothers. i'm sure Uncle Thomas misses him. One day those gates will open & with open arms, he'll welcome my grandfather... later, rather than sooner...I just wish he could see how much he means to us; how much he means to me. Stay with us just a little bit longer. I'm not sure what it would do to your son, but that would be selfish of us. What is the right answer when it comes to death? Are we asking too much when we hold on? Who should bear the weight of the pain; those living with it, or those that will? One must imagine Sisyphus happy, I wonder if we all have a bit of Sisyphus in us; we know how the story concludes, right? The immutable end.

Old man winter; a lovely Ale & why this scarf is wrapped around my neck. The ephemeral is this: a glass pint glass reads "Absolut Vodka," fleeting thoughts of death as the second-hand ticks in the background of My Fellow Creatures by Carlos Cipa as she sleeps peacefully in the other room. I discussed the US opposing a ceasefire within the Gaza Strip the other day with a friend & despite its transience, I felt a life renewed. Angela Davis spoke on the importance of understanding the intersectionality of these movements in order for freedom to truly exist, without the comprehension of how all the oppressed intertwine, we can never reach our fullest potential & upend the structured inequality that has suppressed so many for so long. Palestine is integral to a free people across the world & this genocidal epoch will determine who we are as a humankind. it doesn't require much critical thought to decipher who is at fault...but whether we do what it right despite the pressures of the powers that be...that is what will define us going forward as a people.

I'm ranting, I know. This is the first time I've expressed myself in written form in so long though, so relaxing as I stare at the Albert Camus on the shelf. I swear i'm not pretentious or a prick; i'm more self-effacing if anything, but that feels completely opposite when I say it..

The state of Texas has gotten the case of Kate Cox incorrect on the supreme level & who is to fix this? Since the days of Adam & Eve, we understand the libidinous male, but this controlling agency, the need to police the Woman is quite disheartening..we have lost who we are & the hubris of Man will prove to be quite damning when it is all said & done, I feel. How many others will have to risk their lives before we revisit Roe v Wade & undo what should've never been done in the first place? Stripping a woman of her autonomy over her own body, but who am I but just a man...drinkin' beer, vodka, & whisky dancing around his own feelings. Are these even connected? Should they relate? I haven't cried in awhile, does that mean I will become great? I don't know, I just wanted to rhyme.

Donna Tartt has one of my favorite interviews. She just feels so confident in her speaking in spite of the interviewer, whats seems like at times, trying to talk over her. I really need to finish Secret History & The Goldfinch, however I'm reading The Condition of Postmodernity by David Harvey. Are Identity Politics the problem? I had a slew of questions with responses typed out but I figured I would delete them because who cares about any of that, right? We'd rather focus on the drunk chronicles. I should make a TikTok video, maybe my first & last one ever. Trigger Warning, but i'm not referring to unaliving.. but more so, I am not the TikTok type. I'm not going to make a video. Okay, you've said that already.

December; your melancholy eyes

& facaded smile

Your desire; April, but she's preoccupied with May

& the flowers she brings.

But I'll never leave you alone

I'd miss the sugar cookies, gingerbread homes.

Countless carols of words I barely even know.

My grandfather loves your songs

But I love & I'd miss him so much more

please give him hope to keep holding on.

#life #poetry #feelings #albert camus #vent #love #family #free write #journal

0 notes

atothejay90 · 5 months

Text

Feelings..I guess

December; your melancholy eyes

& facaded smile

Your desire; April, but she's preoccupied with May

& the flowers she brings.

But I'll never leave you alone

I'd miss the sugar cookies, gingerbread homes.

Countless carols of words I barely even know.

My grandfather loves your songs

But I love & I'd miss him so much more

please give him hope to keep holding on.

#books #life #journal #personal rant #love #poem #drunk blogging #A #feelings #family #death

0 notes

itsmeglendaloraine · 1 year

Text

What A Broken Heart Has Taught Me

I got a message from a friend telling me that he saw my ex-boyfriend. When I got his message, I couldn't help but grin. What a funny coincidence!

Just because, lately, All Too Well by Taylor Swift was the song on repeat at the moment. I’m very happy with my love life, with no issues whatsoever at all but it’s just that time of the month when I’m “extra” about almost everything. Too emotional. Extra sensitive. Maybe this is just hormonal or whatever. But since I am learning to be kinder and more gentle with myself, let’s just consider that this is all but just the hormones talking.

As that song of Taylor is about venting over a bad breakup, I somehow can relate to it from this ex. He and I had a bad breakup. He never apologized even when I initiated a talk with him for “closure”.

It’s been years since we had that talk. We were on the beach with all the chilly air coming from the sea. I poured all of my heart out. I told him, with all the courage left in me, that I don’t like hearing all the things he said about me without seeing and admitting what he did wrong. Then, he just said I was being pathetic.

It was another level of damage. Because I was expecting an apology that night. I expected so much, I thought that the first thing that he will say is “I’m sorry”. That for just that one night, he will finally say he is sorry for using me. For playing with my feelings. For gaslighting me. For being selfish the whole time of our relationship.

Right there and then, I realized, in the most unpleasing and harshest way, that I will never, ever, live with a man like him. I don’t want to be with a man who never sees his wrongdoings, who never admits mistakes; a man who is too proud and too arrogant to say sorry.

I told him that there was no need to walk me to the dorm where I live because I want to stay for a moment at the beach. I did that to cry and I don’t want him to see my tears. They were tears that I held back for so long. I finally let them go that night. There goes all the pain. And hurt. And anger. Frustration.

There were no happy memories of him, all I remember was the times he took me for granted, all the mean things he said about me, all those times he pointed out all my flaws – like how my hair is not to his liking and that I mispronounced the word “meter”. As if I am not already aware of my insecurities!

On the bright side, he left a tremendous impact on me. He was a wake-up call. An eye-opener. He made me want to love myself first and assert what I want in a relationship. He made me realize that I don’t want to settle for less. He was the standard (of the kind of man I will never marry). He became the prick that I had to put out to end my misery.

So when my friend told me about him, I was curious if I too will bump into him. Even before, I already have these scenarios in my head of what could happen if we see each other again. Will I be able to say hi? Will he say hello? Somehow, I want to see him and know how he is but I don’t think I can risk that again. Maybe he’s changed. But, I choose to not know and just let everything go.

I do wish him well. I dearly, truly, sincerely hope that he’s happy. And that, he already found the one that he wanted - the one he tried to impose on me.

I truly cared for him when we were together. But, there was too much caring, and I lost myself. I had to let go.

In my pursuit of personal development, I always believed that there is beauty in everything. All the good. All the bad. And, everything in between. All he left me was too many questions and a broken heart. Questions that I answered myself. A broken heart that I healed myself. I learned to forgive him without him asking for it. What could be a more beautiful thing?

1 note · View note

wolfwarden · 2 years

Note

I'm gonna ask for a Wolfcry snippet and I'm not afraid to do it full knowing it will expose how obsessed I am with the concept still

(In response to the “WIP Meme” game, where I promised every ask about a WIP gets YOU a snippet and makes ME do a 15min writing sprint for it.)

Rav, it fills me with so much joy to know you are still cheering for this story. Of course, you may have a snippet. In fact, I am incapable of writing snippets. Have a big 'ol chunk of a Twilight and Wind scene.

[Wolfcry Synopsis: Twilight overuses his wolf form to avoid emotional situations. What good will crying do anyway? It doesn’t fix things. It only generates relief, catharsis, a signal to others that you need help, embarrassment. But wolves can’t cry. And before long, neither can Twilight.]

~~~

“Wolfie?”

Twilight freezes.

Wind is staring up at him, eyes suspiciously glossy in the firelight. The sailor worms a hand out of his blanket and gives a little wave. “It’s nice to see you hanging around,” he whispers, careful not to wake the others. “If you’re looking for Wild he’s two people down.” Wind points out the direction.

Twilight doesn’t move. He wants so badly to help. Is there no way to make things right?

Wind looks confused. “Do you- are you not checking on Wild? I thought you were his wolf?”

Twilight snorts at that.

Wind smiles. It’s a bit shaky but Twilight’s heart warms at the sight. He takes an unconscious step closer to Wind.

The boy’s face shifts, a hopeful expression lightening his features. “Would you…like to stay with me for a bit? If you want?”

And what else can Twilight do in response to that? He settles himself next to Wind, careful not to force direct contact with the sailor if he doesn’t want-

Wind presses himself fully against Twilight’s side, a sigh of relief whispering out of him. Fingers press into the thick fur at Twilight’s neck and rest there, not petting him, but holding on. They both lay still, the minutes passing by as the dying fire crackles. Twilight almost believes that Wind is drifting to sleep when he hears the whispered words.

“I hate this.”

Twilight keeps his body still and his breathing steady, but his ears prick forward to catch every sound.

Wind continues, his voice low and harsh. “I’ve fought plenty of monsters. I’ve gotten hurt dozens of times. I’m not afraid.” Wind’s free hand, the one not still buried in Twilight’s fur, curls into a fist. “But I…”

Twilight’s heart sinks.

“I close my eyes and it’s right above me.”

He had wanted so badly to believe he had made things right. That Wind truly was fine. But that had been a selfish wish and this was his punishment.

“There’s no time to react. There’s no time for anything and I hate it.” Wind’s voice hitches at the final word and he presses his face into his sleeve.

He wants so badly to say something, but Wind’s shoulders are shaking and neither of them makes a sound. If Twilight were human he could have done many things. Like pull Wind into the tightest hug he could manage. Like bend down close and promise to watch over him properly, the way he should have done in the first place. Like tell Wind that he was strong and brave and that the tears he now cried did nothing to diminish that.

Like whisper that he was sorry. Please believe me, Wind, I’m so sorry. I’m trying to make things right.

Wind finally sits up on one elbow, wiping roughly at his eyes. “This is stupid! Sorry, Wolfie, you don’t have to listen to me.” A guilty look passes over his face and he glances around the campsite before letting out a little sigh. His next words are low and conspiratorial. “At least Twilight is still taking a round in the trees. I don’t want him to know.”

Unease squirms in Twilight’s belly. His desire to help wars with the knowledge that he is being sneaky, however unintentionally. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have heard this. Should I leave him alone?

Wind is still whispering to the wolf, unaware of the secrets he is spilling, head tilted close. “I just can’t say this stuff to him… or the others. It’s hard enough getting them to treat me like an equal.” He takes a deep, calming breath. “I’m okay now.”

Twilight gives him a level look.

Wing glares back and hisses lowly, “What? There’s no way I could ask one of them to stay with me at night. They’d freak!” Wind’s cheeks flush. “Plus, that’s super embarrassing!”

Twilight hesitates, caught up in the new found knowledge and the underhanded way he had gotten it.

Wind turns his gaze out to the surrounding woods. The weak light of the fire barely penetrates the deep shadows. Wind’s breaths are deep and even, carefully controlled. But he has a white-knuckled grip on the edge of his bedroll, a wooden knife handle tucked mostly out of sight under the fabric.

The wolf huffs and lowers his head to the ground, making a show of getting comfortable.

Wind’s eyes snap back to Twilight and go wide. “Wait. You’re staying?”

Twilight doesn’t move.

“…all night?”

Death mountain would have been easier to budge.

Wind ducks his head down into his blanket, but not before Twilight catches the open relief shining from Wind’s face. The younger boy keeps his gaze down as he settles in again next to the wolf, not saying another word.

Soon, Wind drifts off to sleep. Twilight keeps watch. He keeps watch the way he should have done the night before: all senses alert, using what was given to him to the best of his abilities.

No attacks come that night. The only disturbances come from Wind himself. Three times the sailor jolts awake, his breathing harsh, his hands clawing out into the dark. Every time, his fingers sink into soft fur and hold on. Wind’s eyes lock onto the wolf’s and see him unmoved and on guard. Every time, Wind finds his trust in the wolf rewarded. He is being watched over. He is safe. And eventually, breaths evening out, he falls back asleep.

Twilight does not sleep. He watches the forest. He watches the changing of the night guard as the other heroes take up positions and silently observe the wolf in their midst. First Time, then Four, then Legend. Their gazes feel heavy and oppressive to Twilight, but they do not ask him to give up his vigil.

The night stretches on and still he watches. Despite the guardian at his side, Wind twitches and squirms through a troubled sleep.

Twilight did this. And it makes him want to scream. It makes him want to run until his muscles are burning and every breath brings searing pain. It makes him want to cry.

But wolves do not cry. So neither does Twilight.

#wip ask game #linked universe #lu twilight #lu wind #Wolfcry #WolfWarden Writes #why confide in people when you've got a cool new wolf friend?!

88 notes · View notes

belphies-cuhm-sluht · 3 years

Note

Hello! I saw your asks open and i wanted to request some angst headcanons with dad!Asmo. I just read Luci's and oh man that sure hurt my heart, you write angst so well!

Unwanted (Dad!Asmo x F!Reader) ANGST

A/N : Mammon plays a really big part in this, just as Beel played a big role in the dad!Lucifer fic. It's never hinted whether they're together or not, it's kind of up to the imagination... but if you'd like, I can write a part two to this??? (I will also, to anyone who might want it, write a part two to the dad!Lucifer fic)

Word Count : 2.3K Warnings : pregnancy ; children ; maternity ; babies ; hinted abortion ; angst ;

He never wanted children, he didn’t want anything that would actually tie him down to anything or anyone. It wasn’t his “thing”, and you both had done everything to prevent it from happening. Up until now, everything had worked, there had never been one mistake, but the both of you got sloppy. There was a party, and… well, you loved him, and he had said that he loved you, and precautions weren’t a “thing” at that moment. One slip up, one mistake, and now everything was falling apart.

“I didn’t want this. I don’t want that.” He spat the words at you, pointing towards your stomach. He had only stopped pacing long enough to say it before starting again, walking the length of his room as he gnawed at his perfectly manicured fingers. You hadn’t expected anything different from him, but it still hurt that he was blaming the whole thing on you, as if it didn’t take 50/50 participation to make something like this happen. “It’ll completely ruin my image. A child with a human! It’ll be all over the tabloids, in every magazine… I can’t have that.” His behavior shouldn’t have been that shocking to you, but to hear just how selfish he really was, to know that he thought so little of you, it hurt way worse than you ever thought it would. One moment he was professing his love to you, and now he’s disgusted with you. It could have been that your emotions were running high from the situation, or maybe the hormones had just taken over completely, but you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and you wanted to fight him. “Your image?! This thing could kill me and all you care about is your stupid public persona… Screw you! I wish I never fell in love with you.” His eyes went soft, and for a moment you thought that maybe he’d apologize, maybe he was rethinking his own words, his actions, that maybe you’d be able to be a team to work through this mess. You were wrong, you were so wrong. “Wish all you want, we both know you’d have never been able to resist me.” Narcissistic, selfish, he was just awful. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to fight back the tears as you walked past him. He didn’t deserve your last words, he didn’t deserve anything. He didn’t deserve you.

The twelfth week was supposed to be the most exciting. It was when most couples would finally make their announcements, happily tell family and friends that they were expecting. Your twelfth week was a nightmare. You were trapped in the Devildom, human doctors wouldn’t know what the hell was going on if they delivered a child with horns, a child so angelically demonic that they’d probably call the hospital priest to your room as soon as they saw it. The only place where you’d be able to safely deliver a child like this and live through it would be in the Devildom. It’s not like you hadn’t tried to relieve yourself of the problem. You had gone to Lucifer, Satan, Barbatos, even Lord Diavolo, asking them if there was any way that they could just… get rid of it. Sadly, Asmodeus wasn’t just a narcissistic, selfish prick, he was also sadistic. None of them could do anything without Asmodeus’ approval since it was his child too. Every time one of them asked him, he would refuse. He didn’t even give a reason, he just wanted to see you suffer. Strangely, you had found comfort and solace in Mammon. You were pretty sure he was only helping because he still had a crush on you, but he became your emotional, mental, and physical support throughout everything. You had told him many times that he didn’t have to basically “fill in” for Asmo, but he insisted that it was the least he could do considering his little brother was being a dick. He wasn’t just your support at the house, he was… invested in the child that Asmo hadn’t wanted. He took you to doctors appointments, sometimes even getting in the way of the doctor as he pointed to the ultrasound screen. He was so excited that most people just assumed it was his kid, and he never denied it either. It was just easier that way, to go along with whatever the other demons said because he knew that any mention of Asmo would upset you and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Some days the both of you would sit on the couch in the living room, flipping through the pages of maternity books. He’d really try to understand the diagrams on the pages, but you could tell that he was confused and sometimes he’d even look up at you from the pages, and then down at your stomach, and then up at you, before looking back down at the pages. It was cute, and you’d giggle lightly, resting your head on his shoulder as you continued flipping through the pages. He had become the only person in the house that you felt like you could fully trust and rely on. Everyone else wanted to stay out of the drama, nobody wanted to get involved, but Mammon wasn’t there for the drama, he was only there for you, he was there when you needed him.

“Can you believe him? Can you believe both of them? We haven’t even broken up and they’re sleeping together, she’s even wearing his clothes. It’s ridiculous, and Mammon is out there playing dad with my kid.” Asmo sat on the edge of the counter, voicing his complaints to anyone who would listen. Sadly it was Beel’s turn since he was the only one in the kitchen right now. Most of the time the other brothers would just hide themselves away, not wanting to deal with Asmo right now, but Beel had gotten hungry and he really thought he’d be lucky enough to avoid his brother. “I don’t know what the big deal is… You didn’t want the kid anyway.” He wasn’t going to walk on eggshells around Asmo, he wasn’t going to lie to make anyone feel better. In Beel’s eyes, Asmo was completely in the wrong. “If Y/N is finding some sort of happiness in spending time with Mammon, who are you to complain? It stopped being your place when you said you didn’t want it.” He shrugged before grabbing his plate and going straight back to his room. He wasn’t going to continue listening to it, but he hoped that he had left Asmo with something to really think about. He walked up the stairs, going straight to the bedroom door, knocking loudly. He wasn’t going to stop until someone opened the door either. Mammon got up from the bed that you both had been propped up on, rolling his eyes as he walked over to his door, groaning loudly when he saw Asmo standing there. “Whaddaya want? We don’t need ya here… yer just gonna stress ‘er out.” He was trying to talk quietly, not wanting you to hear him or even know who was there. He was so protective of you, he wouldn’t let anyone else serve your food during meals, he’d even stand outside the bathroom door whenever you were in there just to make sure you didn’t fall or hurt yourself. Asmo pushed his way into the room much to Mammon’s annoyance. “I don’t care, Mammon. Y/N isn’t yours, and neither is the child. They’re both mine, and I’d like to have a word with her.” He said snidely, but Mammon wasn’t going to have it. Brother or not, he cared too much about you, he had worked so hard to help you get over what Asmo had done, and he wasn’t going to let him waltz back in and ruin everything. Mammon wasn’t weak, he was way stronger than he looked, and right now he was showing his strength, grabbing Asmo’s arm and practically throwing him out of the room. His teeth were barred and the growl that was coming from him sounded feral, animalistic, it was terrifying. “Neither of them are yers! I’ve been there fer everything, every doctor visit, I even bought a damn room fer the kid and she’s sleepin’ in my room, next ta me, and a next ta Y/N. Ya know why?! ‘Cause ya don’t jus’ get ta come back when ya fine’ly realize that ya fucked up! Now… leave us alone. We don’t need ya here.” He left Asmo out in the hallway, crumpled against the wall as he walked back into the room. “She…” Asmo kept repeating the word as he pushed himself up off the floor. He was having a daughter, and he hadn’t even known about it, he wouldn’t have known about it if Mammon hadn’t screamed at him. It was strange how knowing made things more real, it made him care more, and the worst part was that he knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you. He didn’t know how to fix what he had done, but he knew that he had to try at least. “Lucifer…” “I don’t want things to be like this when she gets here. It’s not going to be long either.” You sighed, finally relaxing once more in the bed once Mammon got in next to you. “Why was he here anyway?” Mammon shrugged, focusing all of his attention on your stomach trying to calm himself. He liked watching it move, he thought it was neat.

The delivery was smoother than you thought it would be, and Mammon only fainted twice during the whole thing, so he did pretty good. Delivering a child in the Devildom had its perks, the main one being that you didn’t have to stay more than one day in the hospital to recover. They did some spell and you were completely fine. It was strange, but you appreciated it greatly. The only issue with the perk was that it meant you were going back home and that meant you’d have to face Asmo. She looked so much like him, and you could tell that Mammon was upset by it. Even though he knew she wasn’t actually his, he wished that she didn’t look so much like her father. Her eyes were his exact color, and it left you speechless when she first opened them, gazing up at you with wonder and curiosity. She was precious, and she was yours. As you walked through the door you were met with balloons and streamers, and Asmo. You heard Mammon growl quietly, and you quickly held your hand out to him, silently begging him to stop. He was holding the carseat and you didn’t need him to lose his temper right now. “I just wanted to welcome her home, welcome you home. I bought some things for her, they’re outside of Mammon’s door.” Asmo said nervously, and for once he was terrified of being rejected. “We don’t need noth-” Mammon had started, but you quickly shook your head, pleading to him with your eyes to just stay calm. He groaned loudly, eyeing Asmo angrily before walking past him to the stairs. “Fine. She’s prob’ly hungry… I’m gonna feed ‘er. Ya comin’ up?” You nodded quickly, making sure he got up the stairs alright before turning back to Asmo. “What are you doing, Asmo?”

He moved into the living room, waiting for you to sit down before he did, and he looked scared, he looked sad. Of course you didn’t like seeing him like this, but it was his fault, he had caused all of this. “I don’t want to be alone. I know that sounds selfish, that I’m making this about myself again, but I’m not trying to. When Mammon told me… he said she… It's a girl?” You nodded slowly and you saw his face light up for only a second before it left once more. “I was scared, I am scared… I didn’t know if I’d be a good… father. I never saw myself as one, but seeing Mammon, and he’s doing so well… I never saw him as a father either… I thought that maybe, since he could… that maybe I could too.” He sighed, bringing his hand back up to his lips to chew at his fingers again, his orange eyes glistening with the tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “I know that what I said was wrong… I was rude. I didn’t think I’d have a problem finding someone to take my mind off of everything, but I was wrong. I love you, and nobody else is going to take your place, nobody else can take your place.” You both sat on the couch in silence, his tears finally falling as he waited for you to say something, and yours building up as you tried to think of something to say. “This isn’t fair… You know this isn’t fair. You can’t… you can’t pick and choose when you want to be a dad. You weren’t there… and you made it very clear that you didn’t want her. I… I can’t do this Asmo… I’m sorry… They’re waiting for me… I-I have to go.” You took a deep breath as you stood from the couch, wiping your tears with the back of your hands as you started walking to the stairs. “Y/N…” He walked up behind you, grabbing your hand to stop you. You didn’t turn around to face him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, but he didn’t mind. He was actually thankful that you didn’t look at him, because what he was about to say was the hardest thing he’d ever have to say in his life. “I know that I’m unwanted… But… If I may… Can I meet her? Just once? Please?”

443 notes · View notes

nctsjiho · 3 years

Text

Your Fault

warnings: strong language, consumption of alchol, mention of death without actual death, very much angst

era: July 7th 2021

❀ NCT 127's 5th anniversary isn't a day to celebrate and be happy for everyone

To Doyoung:

“Happy 5th anniversary oppa!”

“I hope you and the boys are having a great time <3”

JiHo stared at her phone intently waiting for the “sent” at the bottom of her screen to turn into “read”. She had been staring at her phone like that for nearly an hour, yet nothing changed. The girl knew that the boys were busy, but somewhere she hoped that she’d hear from them. Besides the short “wished you could be with us” message she had received the evening before from Taeyong she hadn’t heard from anyone else. Of course JiHo was aware that the boys were busy, but was it a crime to feel left out and maybe want a phone call or something more than a “wished you could be with us” from anyone?

And so JiHo continued to stare at her phone, everything on the small screen getting progressively more blurry as time went on. Her eyes were straining, one almost pressed shut, the other slowly going cross-side. Her right hand, which wasn’t holding the phone, reached out to the glass bottle on her desk. A quick shake letting her know it was empty. So she reached for the other one, opening it skilfully with one hand – like she did with the other two bottles now empty on her desk – and bringing it up to her lips. “Must be nice hm~ Being an idol or whatever…”

“I’m glad you came over.” Sihyun, JiHo’s Esteem manager that lives with her, said as she grabbed the boy’s coat off his shoulders. The piece of clothing, along with his hair, slightly damp caused by the light drizzle outside. “JiHo’s been a bit sensitive and doesn’t let me in her room. She doesn’t want to talk to me at all.” Jaemin watched the woman’s face full of worry. He gave her a small reassuring smile and then glanced at the door leading to JiHo’s room. “I’ll try to talk to her.” Thanking Jaemin, Sihyun then excused herself, telling him she had to run some late night errands.

Not knowing what was happening behind the closed door of the bedroom, Jaemin knocked a few times. “Unnie~ Just leave me- leave me alone.” JiHo hiccupped between her words, her speech sounding a bit slurred. She had been drinking? JiHo?

Without a second thought Jaemin pushed the door open. A jumbled mess of protests escaped JiHo’s lips, but she froze in her chair as soon as her eyes locked with Jaemin. “What… are you doing here?” She muttered to the best of her abilities. “Coming to check up on you.” He neared the girl and poked at the bottles and the mess on her desk. “Clearly you need it.” His tone sounded very much disappointed and for a split second JiHo felt her heart ache, but she quickly turned defensive. “I do not!”

A sigh escaped deep from Jaemin’s chest and he pulled JiHo to sit on the edge of her bed next to him. “Since when do you drink?” It was quiet for a bit. JiHo looked at the bottle of the alcoholic beverage in her hand, swirling it around by circling her wrist and then started to giggle to herself. “A new hobby?” She turned to Jaemin, a big smile on her lips – however Jaemin could see the sadness behind it easily. “It’s fun. Feeling… Nothing! I can barely feel my… my lips.” Her body swayed from side to side prompting Jaemin to grab her by her shoulders and hold her in place. “It’s fun until you wake up with a hangover tomorrow.” He scoffed. “Can’t get a hangover if I don’t sleep.” She said, before turning to her desk. She then pointed at the box of another 9 bottles of alcohol next to it on the floor. “Or if I don’t stop drinking.” She grinned.

“Yah! What’s wrong with you?” Jaemin’s patience ran dry quickly. He just felt so furious seeing how badly JiHo was treating her own body. She never drank and now she was planning to drink 12 bottles of alcohol? Drinking herself straight into the hospital, and if it weren’t for Jaemin being here, maybe straight into her own grave. “This is strong alcohol! For all I know you can’t even handle it, so what made you decide to drink now huh?” He yelled, anger only rising watching the girl just stare at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Those same eyes turned to look at her laptop, located on the desk she sat at earlier. The NCT 127 online fanmeeting being streamed, muted.

Of course Jaemin knew it was NCT 127’s 5th anniversary, he knew it must’ve affected JiHo in some way, even if she kept insisting she was going to be fine and was happy for the boys. She even said that she wasn’t “part of the group since debut, so it wouldn’t even be my 5th anniversary” and everyone just had to nod and smile.

“Is that a reason to potentially drink yourself to death?” Jaemin poked her side – maybe a bit too harsh – to gain her attention again; she seemed to be zoning out every few seconds. “What else was I supposed to do? I’m tired of keeping things in.” She sneered at him and it was almost as if she didn’t drink anything. She sounded much more coherent than just a minute earlier. “Aren’t you doing just that though? Drinking on your own. Not letting Sihyun noona in? We keep telling you to talk to us, yet all you do is keep things in. The hyungs even took you out to do stuff and get your mind off things yet you get home and do the thing you always do.”

JiHo felt every drop of alcohol leave her system as she heard the somewhat condescending tone in her friend’s voice. “What the fuck? So this is my fault-“ “Kinda, yes! You just sit here feeling sorry for yourself while everyone is worried over you! We’re your friends for a reason JiHo. There are so many people who care for you, just start fucking talking when you feel down like this.”

The blood inside of JiHo’s veins started to boil and at the same time she felt tears pricking behind her eyes. “You think it’s that easy? What am I supposed to say? That I feel upset that I can’t be with 127 now? Okay. Then what about it? Me telling you this won’t change shit!” “At least you should stop lying and stop telling everyone you’re fine when you’re not! Why do you continue keeping things a secret from everyone?” Both JiHo and Jaemin’s chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. “But I guess you’re good at that anyway.” He added in a mumble.

Once the words registered in JiHo’s mind, the bottle that started to hover towards her lips was quickly forgotten. “What do you mean by that?” Jaemin just shrugged his shoulders and turned his gaze away from JiHo. “Jaemin? What do-“ “You were supposed to debut in 2016 with NCT U?” JiHo’s eyes widened and she pushed herself to stand up. “How’d you know-“ “Then they asked you to debut in 127? Also with us… In Dream?” “How do you know?” Was the only thing JiHo could say.

“Does it matter?” Jaemin yelled, standing up as well. “Why do you continue to keep secrets from us? Do you not trust us? Is that why you sit here alone? Drinking and crying alone.” The boy watched as JiHo stood in front of him wordlessly. He could see how his words were affecting her, but he wanted to be selfish for once. He wanted to let JiHo know how frustrating things were for him and his friends. He was well aware of how JiHo had her own worries and hardships, but if she never wanted to confide in anyone, then he was allowed to be mad right?

The only sound filling the room was both of their ragged breathing and the occasional shift from one foot to the other. The silence was almost deafening, a ringing shooting up JiHo’s clouded mind making her feel like she was going to lose it any second now. Her friend sending hurtful glares her way didn’t help ease the growing pain either.

“You’re right. I could’ve debuted in 2016, what about it?” JiHo whispered, afraid that her talking too loud would send surges of pain into her brain. “Why did you hide it from us? Why didn’t you say yes back then?” Jaemin interrogated her. “There was no reason to tell you if it didn’t happen. I didn’t debut so telling you I could’ve wouldn’t change a thing. I’m not in Dream, I didn’t debut in U and clearly now, I’m not in 127 either. Jaemin… It doesn’t matter anymore…” JiHo’s voice stayed as calm as possible.

“How long have you known Jaemin?” JiHo spoke up again as Jaemin didn’t say anything. She felt the tension grow exponentially, the pressure on her body and more noticeably her head increasing and bothering her more as well. “I heard it during that last meeting you had with Yebin noona and Mister Lee Soo Man…” JiHo let out a small chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “I guess we’re eavesdropping and keeping secrets from me as well.”

She brought the glass bottle still in her hands to her lips, throwing her head back, to down as much of the liquid as possible. Before she could finish it all in one go, Jaemin gripped the bottle and pulled it away from her. “It’s not the same, JiHo!”

The liquid rushed from between JiHo’s lips, making a wet patch on her grey sweatpants. She could feel her throat and lungs burning as she coughed, caused by the alcohol going down her windpipe instead.

Jaemin watched her with concern painting his features, his hand slowly caressing her back hoping it would ease her violent coughs. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He whispered and JiHo gave him a small nod as her body calmed down.

The two 00 liners stayed like that for a while, with Jaemin’s eyes burning at the back of JiHo’s downturned head. Even after JiHo’s body stopped shaking violently, Jaemin’s concern continued to grow. It was only when he noticed the drops, which only could be tears, fall onto her sweatpants and create even more wet spots, that he decided to step in.

Jaemin’s hand securely gripped JiHo’s shoulder and he pulled her up to face him. A gasp left the boy’s mouth as he watched large tears spill from his friend’s eyes. “Ji…” It proved incredibly difficult to speak when he was faced with a situation he wasn’t ready to deal with. Maybe Jaemin shouldn’t have confronted her the way he did. Maybe acting like everything was fine wouldn’t have caused him to witness JiHo at possibly the worst she has felt.

It became a full minute of Jaemin staring into JiHo’s pain- and tear-filled eyes, feeling like he could drown in them himself, before a loud pained sob brought him to reality. The sudden jolt of JiHo’s body forward made Jaemin act quickly and pulled the girl into his chest. His hand, just as quickly, found its way into JiHo’s slightly tangled hair.

“I’m… sor- so sorry.” JiHo sobbed into his chest, tears soaking through even the thicker material of the boy’s jumper. Jaemin could feel his sweater start to stick against his chest, yet what felt more uncomfortable than the damp piece of clothing was the feeling of JiHo’s body shaking in his hold.

As best as he could, Jaemin tried to soothe JiHo. Almost like taking care of a crying toddler, he swayed the girl from side to side. His lips were pressed against the shell of JiHo’s ear as Jaemin whispered affirmations into her skin. “Don’t apologise... Stop apologising.”

“I’m only bringing the team down-” “Shh JiHo. Stop that.” He told her, as his fingers continued to comb through her hair, slowly and carefully detangling it along the way. JiHo pressed her eyes tighter as even more tears spilled from her cheeks and pushed herself closer into Jaemin’s grasp.

Mouth agape, a sob that was building up in his own chest was threatening to fall from Jaemin’s own lips. “You don’t deserve any of this JiHo, you only deserve the best.” JiHo only shook her head, but didn’t dare to speak again. “You do... You really do.”

The night in the capital of South-Korea was never really that dark. Lights always seemed to find their way past the pulled back blinds of any building that wasn’t directly blocked by another one due to bad city planning. So even during the darkest time of day, even when all the lights inside have been dimmed, somehow, it was still light enough to see inside.

So when Jaemin pulled back to look at JiHo’s face, her eyes still tightly pressed shut - which pained him immensely - Jaemin could see the light reflecting off of her wet cheeks.

Feeling two hands being placed on her burning cheeks, JiHo finally decided to open her eyes again. A few more tears rolled over her cheeks onto Jaemin’s thumbs, but luckily no new ones seemed to form. “I’m sorry for everything, all this drama. It’s my fault.” Jaemin shook his head and pulled the girl back, this time to hide his own tears that were starting to form. “Please stop apologising, it’s not your fault.”

“But-” JiHo sighed, her arms found their way around Jaemin’s small waist. “I hate that it’s always about me. I don’t want to be this cliche ‘emotional girl with so many problems and everyone has to pay attention to her problems’. I don’t want that. I don’t want to burden you guys with that, but I also don’t want that kind of attention. I know people already hate me for being in a boy’s group. I don’t want my stupid problems to be the only thing that people assiociate me with NCT.”

“Your problems are not stupid JiHo. And though I understand what you’re saying, I think it’s worse to keep it in. If anything, keeping it in just makes us worry about you more and may get you more attention. JiHo I know things suck right now, and I can’t imagine how you’re feeling with everything going on right now, but… Please just talk to us when things are bothering you. We all love you.”

At those last words JiHo loudly sniffled back some stray tears. She pressed herself into Jaemin’s warm embrace and softly nodded her head. “From now on I will. I promise. And…” JiHo looked up at Jaemin, sending him a small smile that he gratefully reciprocated. “I love you guys too. You’re all I have here and that’s enough to make me stay.”

Jaemin’s hand resumed with his previous ministrations. A deep sigh left his lips as he rested his head atop of JiHo’s. “Everything will be just fine.” Jaemin pressed a kiss against JiHo’s hair. “As long as we stay together everything will be just fine.”

#jiho.writings #nct 24th member #nct addition #nct female member #nct imagines #nct angst #nct jaemin angst #nct extra member #nct additional member #nct female addition #kpop!addition #kpop!oc

160 notes · View notes

plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Request: Leon bday asker. Goodness, it’s been so long I’ve nearly forgotten what I asked! I think it was like, Leon x reader home spa day that Leon set up for reader’s birthday type thing..? I think I left it up to you whether to go nsfw or sfw or both. If that’s not it, just go with this, I guess! Sorry again for the trouble, tumblr sucks lol.

Things came up so sorry for the headcanons!!

A/N: I’m so sorry for it being so late!! I swear I thought I had a handle on this but I did not!! Anyways happy belated birthday!! <(＿　＿)>

It’s hard enough to get someone like Leon to take a day for himself. He still has many responsibilities to do and he hardly ever takes time for himself. The most that he’ll ever do is when it revolves around his hair. He hates the itchiness when he doesn’t take care of his beard- the scruffiness that pricks his skin and makes it feel as if has sandpaper scratching against him. He’ll take proper care of his hair to avoid any unnecessary knots. He takes care of himself well enough but you’ve always been the one to fret more about your appearance so when he notices that you’ve begun to lack in your care routine and that it’s your birthday soon, he takes advantage of it to have an in-home spa for you.

He makes sure to do his research before he starts to shop for the items for a good week in advance. He’ll research online, try to ask not-so-obvious questions about whether you’ve been feeling stressed or if you’ve been having trouble sleeping before he actually starts to shop. He’ll go around to each store, buy oils and candles and pick out a new robe for you to wear. He’s lost at what exactly to get and will resist the urge to buy a scent that promises relaxation but is scented in your least favorite scent. Once he returns home, he’ll fix the place up and set out everything that needs to be done until it looks nice.

Introducing you to the idea is a bit nerve wracking for him. It’s a big gesture that could be taken the wrong way but he tries to make sure it isn’t communicated like that. He’s messing with his hands in sorts of ways- has a strand of his hair twirled around a finger, his hands moving erratically or scratching the back of his necklaces he feels heat start to burn his skin. It’s intimate in a different way that he isn’t able to express. This isn’t something he’s trying to do to flirt but to show you that he cares about you and your wellbeing. A bit awkward in his wording, he’ll give you a nervous grin and make a weak joke about the whole thing. Once he gives you the chance to change into something more comfortable, he’ll hide his face in his hands and have them drag against his skin.

He’ll see you lie on your stomach, a white, fluffy towel covering your lower back side and he’s suddenly so tense. He was nervous before but now he can feel his muscles pull tight against each other, in a way that doesn’t allow for his fingers to flex so easily. He’s watched plenty of videos of massages- even quick videos about what not to do- but now he has to actually put in the work. His brows will furrow and he’ll wish that he took an actual class or something but even the thought of that makes him a bit uncomfortable. He’s more than happy to do something for you but he likes being good at something and everything and he fears that he won’t be good enough for you and it’ll be a marker for his skill and he doesn’t want to deal with that.

It’s a tense beginning where he isn’t sure what he has to do. Any past research is suddenly out the window and he’ll clumsy grab at a scented oil. His hands shine with a thin layer of oil and curve over your shoulder blades. His fingers are rough from years of activity as they drag down your skin. It’s a start. It’s tense and slow, and he hardly speaks even when you try to make small talk. He’s seen your bare back plenty of times- enough to know where your blemishes lay and where your blades start, where faint scars reside and any other beauty marks that have decided to form against you but seeing you in a different light makes him stutter in his steps. His hands are clumsy, slowly finding their rhythm until he’s pressing into your muscles and tissues and eliciting deep sounds from you.

The massage may leak with a bit of excess oil- something strong and fruit in the air as the oil slides down your back and drips from your side in thin strands. He starts to talk to you more, asking if everything feels good, if you think you feel any tension in certain spots and even telling a joke here and there that he can feel knots and whatnot in your lower back. His hands may wander, grip at your midthigh and slowly creep up until his fingertips graze against your inner thigh in a teasing manner. Everything is in good fun and he’ll joke around, placing mint on you and blowing cool to see you twitch and coo his name in a warning-slash-playful tone. Soon the massage is in good fun, teetering at certain spaces with his lips pressed against your neck, his smile wide as grips your sides.

Everything and anything that could be considered coming from a spa will be included in this homemade spa. The bath will be drawn as you wrap yourself in a towel, the water still with a few rose petals drifting in the small space. He’ll have you get in before he does, bringing you close to him, your back against his chest and his arms around you. It’s still, a quiet moment shared between the two of you. His hands will curl against the top of your head, soap suds that gleam wonder the white light will slide down to the back of your neck and soon the tender moment will turn more playful as you turn to face him, water splashing against the both of you.

As it is your day, he’ll insist that he’ll be the one to dry you. It’s a spa recreation with a lover, he can take a few liberties in what spas actually do. He’ll grab the new towel that he bought you, wrap you around it and pull you close, letting you dry your own hair because while he may be gentle, he has a habit of becoming playful much too soon and wanting to play with you in an eager sort of way. He’ll lay you down and pick out a soft smelling cream and smooth it out on your body. His gaze is focused and his touch isn’t as playful even as it nears close to your sex. He is focused on you and wanting to make you feel good, his hand course and soft all at once, a fluttering touch where he’s quick to roam his hands in a way that is sincere. He’ll smile up at you, his brows knitted and rise up, allowing you to change into a new set of pajamas as he goes to pull the covers and get ready for bed.

The end of the day is as selfish for him as it is for you. He’ll order things that you like and get to lie in bed with you, the bed tray catching any loose food. You’ll be near him, cuddled and clean, the scent of your cream reaching his nose as you take sips of his drink when you think he isn’t looking. He’ll smile when you kiss his bicep, his throat getting tight and cheeks heating up when you tell him how you loved this at-home-spa. Pride will fill him, making him puff out his chest and have this crooked smile on him. He’ll shrug and murmur a happy birthday to you but you call tell by the bounce in his leg that he’s glad that you enjoyed your spa day with him.

Leon realizes that it would have been easier to get you something like a gift certificate to a spa or actually pay for your spa but he didn’t want to give you something like that. It’s selfish of him but he didn’t want you to be the only one making memories, he wanted to be included as well. It may be your birthday, but he wants you to remember the good times that you had together. While you both rest on the bed watching some old movie, he’ll have his hands hold yours, his forefinger and thumb massaging the webbed part of your hand. Long after you’ve fallen asleep, he’ll stay up watching the credits roll and you press yourself against his chest. If his phone is near him, he’ll grab it and take a picture, the flash accidently going off before he fumbles to turn it off and take another one, going off to edit it and add cute stickers before he sends it to you.

#champion leon hc #champion leon x reader #pokemon leon imagines #pokemon leon x reader #leon pokemon #leon headcanons #leon imagine #pokemon leon #leon x reader #champion leon #pokemon imagines #pokemon headcanons #i never know exactly what to tag this as #like pokemon related thing #sword and shield #i hope you like it #and im just so sorry for everything about it #like the lateness and headcanon wise #totes on me

152 notes · View notes