#yes it would have been depressing as hell and maybe not the best thing for me to watch as someone living in a country w a femicide crisis

[lovelettersfromluna]

Not Strong Enough

Summary: Rule number 1 of being best friends with a vampire. Never let them drink your blood.

an: I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME IM SORRY!! This took entirely too long to get to you guys, but it’s here now! Better late than never right?? Is this heavily inspired by twilight? Yes. Did I use a BoyGenius song as the title? It’s lesbian smut, obviously. Is Ellie going to be a brooding depressed vampire? Oh hell yeah. I hope you all like this! I’m a slut for anything supernatural so this was obvi very fun for me to write. As always, love you all so so much! Thanks for reading 🤍

Warnings: SMUT!!, MDNI!!, scissoring (if ur mad I’m doing another scissoring fic….idk what to tell you it’s hot), messy kissing, Ellie bites reader (outside of blood sucking), mentions of marking, mentions of bruises, mentions of blood, Ellie is kind of insufferable for a small bit but I promise it gets better, please lmk if I missed anything!

Read part 1 here!!

Ellie knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.

She knew that she was too weak for you, even outside of sucking your blood. You were too fucking good for her, too much of a dream for Ellie to go and fuck up like she did.

Truth be told, Ellie expected all of it. She expected to get utterly addicted to you, she expected the blurred lines of your relationship to become even more blurred when she began sucking you dry of your life source, she even expected herself to lose control when she was in the act, humping and grinding your soft body like a wild fucking animal as if she had no control over herself.

She expected all of it, every single aspect that came with the territory, she knew was coming.

But the hardest part of it all? Was leaving you completely.

Because she knew the moment she felt herself lose control while she was on top of you that night in your apartment, she knew she needed to leave you. She needed to abandon you and your friendship for the greater good, for your sake.

Ellie knew that she wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for her. But that didn’t make the pain of not seeing you any less.

She thought she’d be able to do it at first, but the texts from you only reminded her of how much she loved your company, how obsessed she was with simply being around you.

She wound frown every time her phone went off, a low groan leaving her lips when she lifted it up to look at her screen, only to see it was from you.

Ellieeeeee

Where are you?

Haven’t seen u in the longest :((

Ellie can practically hear your pout in the way you text her. She knows you too well, and she knows that you aren’t handling her sudden disappearance well.

At this point, it’s been about two months since Ellie has seen you last? Maybe three? She stopped keeping count because it was driving her insane. It wasn’t even the blood supply that she missed, Ellie would go hungry ten times over, dying from starvation if it meant she could be around you without feeling she was robbing you of your life, ruining things that you were meant to experience because she was too fucking selfish.

Ellie misses you, and it pains her that she hasn’t been able to have you in so long.

Well…not entirely at least. She knew she’d lose her mind entirely if she couldn’t at least be around you for a few moments, so her usual nighttime visits become a bit more frequent when she decides she can’t be around you anymore. She’s a lot more careful when she does it though, knowing how sensitive you were to her presence. It was almost unbelievable how easily you’d woken up to her in your room in the past. She doesn’t know how she’d explain things if you woke up now, not having seen her in so long. So she’s extra aware of how much noise she makes.

Seeing you sleep is almost enough to keep Ellie’s demons at bay, the ones that screamed for you, yearned for you to be by her side, to have your warm skin pressed against her much colder one.

As per usual, she’s scaling up the brick wall of your apartment building, making her way up to your bedroom like thief in the night. You continue to leave your window open every night, and it breaks Ellie’s heart because she knows you’re doing it for her, most likely hoping she slips into your window as she usually does.

It means Ellie needs to be even more careful than she anticipated.

She doesn’t even dare to sit on your bed, standing in the corner of your room as she watches your chest rise and fall. She doesn’t even breathe, scared that the sound of it will wake you.

And she desperately wants to reach out and let her fingers run along your soft skin, desperate for the feeling that you always brought her when you’re near. It makes her fists balk at her sides as she practically itches to feel you, fighting back any and every thought that she had to touch you, if even for a moment.

But she doesn’t. Instead, he stays with you just before the sun rises. She knows it’s risky, and she knows she shouldn’t do it in the event that you wake up and see her. Even if she’s fast enough to dart out of your room before you can even call her name or turn the lights on, you’re too smart for that. You’d know what was happening before she can even begin to gaslight you into thinking it was simply a dream.

She can’t help herself, not when it comes to you. Seeing you sleep satisfies the burning feeling in her chest, the one that yearns so desperately for you, it’s enough to make her knees weak. It’s almost like you’re capable of evoking the same feelings she had when she was a human, when she was weak and stupid and felt nervous around women. Until you showed up, Ellie hadn’t experienced those feelings in a long time, she’d almost forgotten about them.

You always remind her though.

Like when she’s about to leave you, knowing she’s cutting it too close to the time you’re going to wake up and start your day. Her footsteps are practically silence, even against the old, creaky floorboards of your apartment.

She’s almost out of your window, one leg outside as she plants her foot against the fire escape when she hears it. You began mumbling in your sleep, tossing a bit, clearly bothered by whatever dream you were having. While this should’ve been the clearest sign for Ellie to leave as quickly as possible before your eyes opened a bit to see her, she doesn’t. Instead, she stays sat on your window sill, simply watching as you turn to face her, eyes still closed as you pout in your sleep.

If Ellie had a heart that was still beating, she’s sure it would’ve stopped. Because suddenly your mumbling is just clear enough for her to hear.

“Ellie….” You sigh out softly, barely loud enough for the undead girl to hear, but she does. Regardless of the city waking up below her, or the sound of your ceiling fan creaking about, she hears it. It makes her frown deeply, swallowing back the intense whimper that threatens to escape and echo throughout your room.

She isn’t sure if she’s ever left your room so quickly, the girls eyes going wide as she made the familiar path down the side of your building to your side walk.

Even when she got home that night, the vampire practically breaking the front door down of her apartment to get in, she couldn’t get the sound of your voice uttering her name so sweetly, calling out for her even in the depths of sleep that you were in, tugged so deeply by your dreams, you were still calling out for her.

Ellie knew that night, that she had to stay away from her. For both your sake, and her own.

And she’s right, because you were suffering just as much as Ellie was.

Ellie’s presence was always scarce, and while it bothered you a bit before you learned what she was, it made sense. She was a creature of the night, something that seemingly only existed in storybooks, coming to life and living the strange lifestyle that she did.

But you knew immediately that this was different.

The morning after you saw Ellie last left a bitter taste in your mouth. As you woke up that morning, your neck sore with the bruises of Ellie’s lips on your skin, body far too drained and tired even after a night of a sleep that was just a bit too deep. It was similar to almost all the times Ellie had drank from you the night prior.

So, why did you feel so bad that morning?

You knew that you didn’t owe Ellie anything, that you were the one to suggest this in the first place, so there truly wasn’t any room for you to be upset for reasons unknown. What were you even supposed to say to her? That you had a weird feeling? One that you desperately wanted her to relieve by telling you it was all okay?

As much as you wanted to, you knew things between you and Ellie weren’t like that.

You were her friend. You were just her friend, and as much as you wanted more, you knew deep down that if Ellie truly wanted you that way, she would’ve made you she’s a long time ago.

And maybe that’s what bothers you the most when this little dry spell occurs, because the sudden lack of her presence leaves you entirely too much time to dwell on things, wondering what it was that you did wrong, what you could have possibly said to create this sudden rift between the two of you.

Ellie had always been flirtatious, flashing that pretty smile in your direction that made you weak in the knees, calling you sweet names that made your heart beat faster. She was practically dangling it all right in front of your face, the frequent touches, the late night visits at the foot of your bed, all this time when you have her the benefit of the doubt, chalking it all up to her simply wanting to see you and nothing more than that, suddenly made no sense to you.

With time came confusion, and with confusion came anger, desperate to understand why she left you, what you had done to possibly make her so scarce so suddenly. And once the third month had hit without seeing Ellie, you were furious, feeling as though you had one choice and one choice only.

To find Ellie, and get the answers from her yourself.

You don’t go to Ellie’s apartment, not usually at least.

Ellie always told you she liked hanging out at your place, going on and on about how warm and cozy it was being there. She’d never admit it to you because she didn’t want you to think she was a freak, but being in a place that smelled so heavily like you made her brain go absolutely insane.

You’ve been there maybe a handful of times, sometimes heading to her place after a night out, or even stopping by whenever you were in the neighborhood. Bottom line was, your apartment was the designated hang out spot for you and Ellie.

Regardless though, you remember how to get there like it’s written on the back of your hand. You thought about Ellie’s apartment a lot, loving how much the space reflected her. You always wished you had the chance to stay there more often.

You can’t think about that though, not now. Not when you’re storming down the expensive halls of her complex down to her door, and landing a heavy fist on the door. All you can truly care about now, is seeing Ellie and demanding an explanation for her sudden disappearance.

And it’s all so unlike you, so out of your character. If it was anyone else, you’d let it go, giving yourself a few days to sulk before forgetting about it all together and simply moving on. Maybe it’s because it’s Ellie, and maybe it’s because you feel a tad bit used after being her personal buffet for the last few times you’d been around her, just for her to up and leave.

It’s most definitely that. You just don’t want to admit it in fears of sounding selfish.

You land another firm knock on her door when she doesn’t answer in time, feeling yourself grow angrier as the moments pass.

Soon, she’s finally opening the door. The image of her nearly takes your breath away.

Because Ellie always looks beautiful, perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t seen her in some time, but she looks fucking ethereal standing before you. So tall, so confident, her eyes so fucking dark, piercing through your very soul as she stares down at you. Her lips look like rubies compared to her cold, pale skin, so plump and kissable.

All you can think about is the way they felt pressed against your throat, and it makes you lift your hand to press against the two small circular scars on your neck.

Ellie frowns deeply as she eyes you, eyebrows furrowed and expression virtually unreadable.

“What are you doing here” she mumbles out, shifting on her feet awkwardly. Her question alone sets the fire off in your chest again, making you seethe as you take a deep inhale before responding.

“Are you kidding me Ellie?” You practically spit out, staring up at the girl in disbelief.

She lets out a soft sigh, her tattooed hand coming up to rub her face roughly before it moves up to rub through her hair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she manages before she tries shutting her door in your face. “You can’t be here” she mumbles out softly, the girl fully expecting to be able to shut the door.

You however, have other plans.

You’re quick to press your hand against the door, stopping her from closing it before you practically force yourself between it. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit at this, not used to seeing you so forward.

Soon, you’re pushing yourself into her apartment, your palm pressing against your forehead as you began pacing back and forth Ellie’s lavish apartment.

“I don’t…I don’t understand you Ellie. Is it something I said? Did I do something? If so please enlighten me I beg you” you blurt out, all of the words fumbling out of your mouth in one breath.

Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you pace back and forth her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed. She can truly see the damaged shes caused when she sees you like this, because it was much easier to watch you when you slept, so peaceful and unaware of the troubles that came with her absence. She knew you were going to blame yourself, and as much as she knew she couldn’t allow you to do that to yourself, she knew staying away was even more important.

Seeing you like this was possibly the hardest thing Ellie had to ever endure.

You don’t stop there, taking advantage of the lack of a response from Ellie to continue ranting.

“Is it because of the blood thing? If so I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for simply caring enough to make sure you didn’t die from starvation or whatever it is that happens to you when you don’t eat. I’m sorry for making sure that you were okay, if that was so wrong please tell me…” your words trail off as you let out an exasperated sigh, your feelings and emotions becoming far too much as you practically sob out to her.

But then you’re pausing, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggle to catch your breath. Ellie isn’t entirely sure why you’ve suddenly stopped, your back towards her as you stand there, doing god knows what.

When you finally turn around, your eyes are red and your cheeks are wet with tears.

“Were you just….using me? As your personal fucking blood bag?” Your words are shaky as you hold back another sob, your fists balled down at your sides.

Ellie freezes when you say this, because this is exactly what she was fucking afraid of.

It was a common theme throughout…her people. Vampires were notoriously alluring, seducing countless innocent and clueless victims into being their personal meal. The humans were almost always oblivious to what was being done to them, vampires often times using this to their advantage to keep them under their spell for as long as possible. It would most commonly been done in a way that made the humans believe the vampires loved them, dangling them by a thread as they promised them a life of eternity together, to live in immortality, side by side until the end of times. It almost never ended that way though, the vampires would suck and suck and suck until one day they went a bit too far, and their obedient human keeled over and died.

Ellie never wanted things to be that way with you.

She never even wanted you to think it was that way. She wanted you to understand that this was entirely up to you, and it could stop whenever you wanted it to. It’s why she constantly voiced to you that this was still a factor right before she fed off of you. Ellie would rather die than use you for a source of food, because truthfully you were far too good for that, too fucking pure to be used as something as low as a food source.

So when the words leave your lips, Ellie sees red.

Shes in front of you in less than a second, towering over you and staring down into your tear soaked eyes. Her nostrils are flared as she tries to hold back from tearing down her entire apartment complex around the both of you.

“You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think I’d ever use you for something so low..” her voice is low, and there’s a gravel in it that makes your core tighten and your chest bloom with something you can’t quite place, a feeling that can only be shelved in your mind right next to where Ellie takes place.

You don’t hack one, hot tears continuing to spill from your eyes as you stare at her with furrowed eyebrows.

“It makes sense….get your fix and then leave me like I’m nothing…this was probably your plan all along” you grit out.

Ellie licks her lips, knowing that you’re hurting just as much as she is, and your words are simply coming from a place of confusion, desperate to understand why she did what she did to you, why she left without a trace.

She leans in, her face a mere inches from yours. You can smell her minty breath wafting onto your face, and it’s bizarre because even that has a slight chill to it. It makes your cheeks cold, and it makes you want to reach out and warm her up.

“I would rather die a million deaths before using you for that…you and I both know this” she seethes out.

And it makes you whimper, because Ellie’s always been so fucking intense, so poetic. It makes your insides flip upside down, and your eyebrows knit together as you struggle to hold back a whimper.

Your features soften as you continue to cry in front of her. “Then why did you leave me…” you whisper out to the girl.

It breaks her heart how desperate you are for this. Not even for her, but simply for answers. All you want is to understand why she left, what you did to make her abruptly disappear without a single word.

Ellie’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, her pink tongue darting out to lick her plush lips before she finally speaks.

“I’ve never…been so weak for someone…in my entire life” she breaths out.

It surely isn’t what you’re expecting her to say. You think she’s going to say she’s gotten enough of you, or she just couldn’t handle having someone like you around. Hell, you were even beginning to think she was trying to cover up all her roots here and start somewhere else.

“I always have been…from the moment I fucking laid eyes on you, I knew you weren’t good for me…you’re too good for me” she continues, her eyes fluttering open as she finally stares down into yours. You can finally look into yours as you blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes and blurring your vision, and it allows you to see the pain in her eyes, just how much she’d been struggling with all of this.

“It isn’t even your blood…it made it worse, yes…but just being around you is like…it’s like a fucking drug to me. You give me this feeling that I can’t…I can’t even begin to describe how fucking euphoric you make me feel” each of her words sounds like a plea, a plea for you to let her go, to unhand her from the death grip you have on her.

“And suddenly I’m always in your apartment, and you’re offering yourself to me and it’s like a dream come true and I feel like a fucking monster when I’m on top of you, sucking you dry of your fucking blood” it’s her turn to start pacing, running her hands through her hair as she settles one of her hands on her hip, she moves slower than you were, simply voicing the struggles she’s seemed to have with you from the moment you met.

She finally turns towards you, and she’s slowing make her way to where you’ve been standing this entire time. When she’s right back where she was, stood right in front of you, she takes your hand into hers ever so gently. It’s enough to make you flinch, how cold she is in contrast to your hot skin. She sighs, bringing your hand up to cradle her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut, nearly rolling back as she presses a soft kiss to your palm.

“I’m not strong enough for you…I don’t think I ever will be” she finally admits, and it’s like she’s not only admitting it to you, but to herself as well.

You hold back a whine as she kisses your palm, her lips so soft, so gentle with you.

“Then…then don’t be…why can’t you just let things happen” you sigh out as you stare up at her, in awe as the girl leaned into your touch as if it were her life line.

You aren’t even entirely sure what you’re asking her for, what this so called ‘thing’ is that she won’t let happen. Is it the feeding you’re alluding to? An act of true platonic kindness? Or are you asking for more, are you begging for something that Ellie has deprived you both of for the sake of the greater good?

Both you and Ellie have these same questions running through your minds.

She chuckles dryly against your skin, shaking her head as her hand gives your wrists a gentle squeeze.

“You aren’t even sure what it is you’re asking for…not from someone like me” she admits, eyes opening as she finally looks down at you again.

“I can’t…give you the things you deserve. I’m not capable of being the perfect person for you, not when I am what I am” her words are like venom on her tongue, the girl utterly disgusted with the monster that she became against her own will, the hell that she was forced to live over and over again with no foreseeable end.

“The only thing I can do, is take from you…I take and take and take….” Her words trail off, a soft frown on her lips before she finally looks at you once again.

“Until I’ve taken everything that you have…and there is no more of you to offer” she whispers out, as if the mere thought of a world without you pains her so much to say, she barely wants to say it.

You lick your lips, your eyes searching hers before you quickly shake your head.

“Do you want me? The same way that I want you?” You question carefully, fearful of what it is that she might say, worried that you’d been reading things entirely wrong, even after Ellie basically confessed how utterly obsessed she is with you.

She smirks softly, humming lowly as she gently brings your hand down to her lips, pressing another gentle kiss to it.

“It’s like I’ve waited my entire life for you, baby….saying that I want you would be an understatement” she chuckles out softly.

And you aren’t entirely sure how it even gets to this point, because you marched over to Ellie’s apartment with a purpose, that purpose being to yell at her and get the answers you deserved. But suddenly you’re standing in front of her, and your heart is exploding with so many different emotions and feelings, all of them for Ellie, and she’s just confessed to you that she wants you like you want her.

And you have no choice, but to kiss her.

It catches Ellie off guard, a soft whine leaving her lips as accepts your lips with gratitude, her arms moving down to drape along your waist as she pulls you closer.

It’s everything she’s ever dreamt it would be. Your lips soft and sweet against her own, your skin so warm and inviting, making her drink you up, fueling her with the warmth she’s lacked since the day she died. But despite how good it feels, she knows this is wrong, and it goes against everything she said she’d do for your sake.

Ellie breaks way first, watching as you struggle to catch your breath from the intense kiss. She’s quick to stop you from leaning in again, her hand cupping your face as she stares into your eyes.

“Angel…we can’t…I told you, I’m no good for you” she sighs out, the words paining her to even say.

You give her a soft pout, your arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely as you press your warm body against hers.

“I trust you Ellie….I know that you’d never hurt me” you sigh out softly as you stare into her eyes, your hand coming up to tuck a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.

“We don’t have to do the blood thing…but I just…can’t we just give us a try?” Your eyes are wide as you speak, eager to feel Ellie’s lips against yours again, even if for a moment. You don’t even take into consideration that she could say no, that she could turn you around and throw you out of her apartment without another word, doubling down on what she said she’d do with you.

But as Ellie said before, she’s just too fucking weak for you.

And hearing you ask for it, ask for her, it has her stomach in knots, and she feels like no matter what it is you ask her, she couldn’t possibly say no to you.

“What are you doing to me…” she sighs softly before she leans in to kiss you again, reciprocating the passion and heat that you gave her mere moments ago. You whine against her, your hands sliding back to tug at her hair, keeping her close as your lips moves against hers, your warm tongue sliding against hers.

“Missed you so much…” you sigh against her, and it makes Ellie groan softly as she nods, hands sliding down to grip your waist as she walks you back towards her bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

“Missed you more than anything, angel” she mumbles against your lips as she presses her palm against her bedroom door behind you, pushing it open and leading you further inside.

Ellie’s bedroom smells like her. It’s dark, and cold but oh so comforting. You practically sigh against her lips when you feel her laying your body down against her black silk sheets, the expensive material like butter on your skin. It makes your senses go in overdrive, Ellie’s hands caressing your skin, roaming around your body as her tongue rubs against yours in a dirty, passionate kiss.

“Don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this…” she sighs softly, her lips breaking away from yours to kiss along your jaw, down to your throat. You don’t miss the way Ellie kisses the now faded marks of her teeth on your neck, licking the skin softly before she sucks into it, sure to leave dark marks in the morning.

“Missed marking you up baby….” She hums against you, drinking in the sweet moans that leave your mouth, the sound alone like music to her ears.

Your mind is fuzzy, almost blank besides the thoughts of Ellie that stood in the forefront of your brain. It was like she was filling you up entirely, making you almost overwhelmed with her. Her scent, her cold skin, her soft hands, all of it was almost too much, a combination of sensory overload that kissed your skin so deliciously.

Soon she’s kissing down your body, practically worshiping her as her lips work on your soft skin. Her hands are pushing up your t-shirt, kissing your stomach and your ribcage until she’s tugging you up a bit to skillfully slip your shirt over your head. You’re bare before her, her lips matching onto your pebbled nipples as her tattooed hands work on your soft shorts, tugging them down your legs.

You don’t miss the way her tongue swirls around your nipple before letting go with a pop, lips moving up to nip at your collar bone with her flat teeth. Hard enough to leave a mark, but gentle enough to not break skin.

You giggle softly, bending your legs back to help as she tugs your shorts and panties off. She’s slotting herself between your legs, humming softly as she gives you a smirk.

“Something funny baby?” She questions before leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod, a dreamy smile on your lips as you bring your hand down to tug at the hem of Ellie’s t-shirt.

“Seems like old habits never die, that’s all….need this off” you huff out softly, fingers fumbling between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweats.

Ellie chuckles at how eager you are before she nods, pulling back to tug her shirt off before she rolls over a bit to pull off her sweats and underwear as well before she makes her way back between your legs, towering over you as she crawls into you like a predator would its prey.

And it leaves your pussy soaking wet, because it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined. Ellie’s tits are pebbled similarly to yours, tattoos littering her pretty skin, muscles so beautiful they could make your mouth fucking water.

You’d always seen Ellie for the beauty she possessed…but this? This was so much more different.

It made your head fucking spin.

You whined softly as you practically tug her into her by her shoulders, moaning softly at the feeling of her boobs squishing against yours as your mouth attacks her in a needy kiss.

“Want you…” you sigh softly against her as your hand slides down between the both of you, cupping her pussy. You feel Ellie suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of your warm fingers against her sopping wet core, and she gives you an eager nod before rolling over, her strong hands gripping your thighs and taking you with her as she forces you to straddle her.

Being on top of Ellie is just as good as being under her, almost better in all honesty. The lighting in her bedroom is dim, but you can just make out her features with the moonlight that spills in through her big windows, and the moody lights she has set up along her walls. You don’t even realize it because you’re too busy gawking at her, but she lifts her leg up a bit and easily slots you down so that your pussy is right against hers, the feeling making you moan softly.

“You’re so pretty Ellie…” you practically sigh out. It makes Ellie moan softly, and she swears the sound of you calling her pretty is enough to bring her back to life, reversing the effects of her undead state.

“Fuck…can’t say those things to me baby…you’re gonna…Jesus..ruin me” she struggles to get out as she grips your hips, forcing you to roll your hips so that your clit and her clit bumps against each other.

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel it. It’s so fucking wet, and soft, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure you’d done it with other girls before, but this just feels…it almost feels like….

“Like you were fucking made for me princess” Ellie grits out, her teeth caging her words in as she fucks you down onto her pussy, practically using you for both hers and your pleasure.

You’re too far gone to pick up on it, too indulged in the feeling of Ellie’s strong hands gripping your thighs so deliciously, sure to leave marks in their shape when you both wake up in the morning.

Your back is arching almost painfully, your hand gripping her thigh as you find the rhythm Ellie has set for you, finding the perfect spot and keeping it there as you drive both you and her to your orgasms.

“I’m…Ellie you feel so good…you’re gonna make me cum” you squeak out, eyebrows furrowed as you finally look down at the girl beneath you, only to find that she’s just as much of a mess as you are. Her hair is messy and her lips look so pouty and kissable. It’s hard to make out, but her fanged teeth are pressing into her lips, and you’re sure it’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in your entire life.

She gives you an encouraging nod, one of her hands coming to your ass and kneading it harshly before giving it a firm spank, the sinful noise echoing off the walls of her pristine bedroom.

“I know baby…I know…come on, want you to cum with me…that’s it…that’s my good girl” her praises make your chest burn, and it leaves knots in your stomach. It only drives you further, your hips moving faster as they roll against Ellie’s, desperately chasing both hers and your orgasm.

“Ellie…Ellie I’m…I’m gonna-“ you cry out, back arching as you grip her thighs quickly, feeling your own shake as your orgasm begins washing over you.

Ellie catches it right before it happens, the girl quickly sitting up and wrapping her arms around your body, pressing your chest against hers as she pulls you down to kiss her passionately, her own orgasm washing over her like a fucking train.

Your bodies are so in tune, so in sync that your moans almost mix to create a symphony that can only be described as love, total and unconditional love as her arms keep you close, as if stopping you from running away from her, from the feeling she gives you. Her lips are working against yours as you breath hard, struggling to catch your breath in the sloppy kiss.

You’re a whining mess, your poor pussy far too sensitive to deal with the amount of pleasure that Ellie brought to you, all of it washing over you like an intense sea of euphoria, nearly drowning you as you held onto the girl with weak hands.

She knows you’re weak, because she’s pulling you down to rest your warm body against her cool sheets, all while keeping her cool body pressed against yours to bring you back down to earth with her.

“That’s it baby…I know….did so good for me…” she sighs softly as she leaves gentle kisses against your cheeks and eyes, watching as the aftermath of your orgasm slowly pulls you to the depths of sleep, all of it too much on your body.

“My beautiful girl…my girl…my girl…” she hums out, almost like a song as she watches you cling to her in your sleep, soft hums and huffs leaving your lips, all of which makes Ellie smile adoringly at you as she holds you while you sleep.

And even while you’re settling into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever experienced, you don’t miss the soft kisses against your lips and cheeks, all paired with the constant, non stop praises from Ellie.

You especially don’t miss the way she leans in settles against the pillow next to you, mumbling the softest, sweetest words to you as her hands caressing your naked body.

“I love you, pretty girl..”

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

[liveontelevision]

Okay, this started as a rant about Lucifer lore and turned into an argumentative essay on why Lucifer is a bottom. My b.

18+ Smut ahead, lots of angst

•••

Here's the thing about Lucifer. He was an awesome dreamer, fell in love with Lillith, and was banished to Hell. Literally forced to see what the gift of good will can do at its worse. Unless he's made some personal contact with a sinner to get like updates about what the gift of good will did right, he had to be stuck in a depression for centuries, at least until Charlie was born. And while that would've definitely given him a new passion, he'll never feel confident in dreaming again.

With how much he dislikes sinners and what they represent, i wonder if there had to be some strain on their relationship when it came to Lillith taking control? They never really talk about if they had a fallout or if she just disappeared, but i dont think they really got divorced either.

When Lucifer looks at that family picture and winces, does he feel bad about not contacting charlie? About something he did to make lillith leave? Or maybe he feels bad about being upset at lillith for leaving in the first place? There's so much to umpack there i live for the lore.

Love Interests:

But when that comes to potential love interests in the future, Lucifer hasnt had to court anyone before like ever. Not in the circumstances that they live in a big city like Hell. So when he finally ends up catching feelings, he has no idea. People around the hotel literally need to pick up on context clues for him and have an intervention to tell him he's in love again.

Even if he hasnt seen lillith in 7 years, their relationship had to be a drastic change compared to new love. I think that his love interest would also pick it up before he does, and you would let him work at his own pace. Fuck, it is so important that he goes through this process at his own pace.

With so much strain on his past relationships with loved ones, he fully gaslights himself into thinking he doesnt deserves and isnt allowed to feel affection anymore. I hate making characters i love suffer. But i feel like in his state of mind he'd go through depressive episodes and panic attacks, maybe some night terrors. Theyed be about his past and his subconscious would essentially tell him he has feelings again, and he shouldn't act them in case he scares you away and abandons you, like heaven. Or drives you away like lillith. Or purposely blocks you out like charlie. Mans is struggling i swear. He needs some comfort.

After finally coming to terms, hes a nervous wreck about every decision he makes. He'll constantly stare in the mirror in the mornings, making sure he looks his best, would plan mental scripts before even having a conversation with you, and would become a bumbling mess just trying to make jokes out of the situation, some base level actions, like how we saw in the show. He'll manage to finally ask you out, but all he really knows how to do is profess an undying love (i feel like his confession to lillith was hella dramatic) so it was a little awkward, but still cute. And of course you said yes.

So let's say its been 5+ years since he moved into the hotel, met you and finally managed to confess his feelings. When it comes to the actual relationship? You give him reassurance and support him through his mental episodes, and laugh at his jokes and praise him for everything he does. He has such intense imposture syndrome though, that even other demons have to reassure that theres no way you dont love him with all your being. Because it is literally obvious to everyone but him.

He's pretty good at doing the romantic fluff stuff in public, he loves to make a big show out of treating you like royalty and even trying to embarrass you when you become close enough. He's always more charasmatic in public, it seems easier than doing that alone.

Not in a negative way, but Lucifer is so never to be alone with you. You take the lead a bit more in those scenarios, suggesting ideas like movies or just coming up with small talk yourself. He needs someone who'll be patient with him. Being alive for millions of years AND being left or shamed by all your loved ones during that time is literally the definition of Truama.

Of course he's been bottling all that shit up, he has no one to confide with. There's no one who's been alive and witnessed it all the way he has. So bless you for loving and caring for him even without understanding all hes been through.

You'll have some rough patches, where this emotional side locks him away from you and everyone else. It might be a few days before you see him. He'll lock himself in his office, pumping out ducks by the dozen just to keep himself from sleeping, because he's scared he'll have night terrors if he feels asleep. He's in a constant loop;

"what if i fucked up?"

"what if i try to talk about it and then they realize how bad i fucked up?"

"what if that's enough of a reason for them to leave me?"

"what if i scare them away?"

"what if that fucks this up?"

"what if i fucked up.. Again..?"

After he leaves his office, youre excited to see him out and about, but you cant make a big deal out of it. You have to speak to him calmly, make sure he's physically okay before talking to him about his thought process. It might take awhile, but he'll eventually trust you enough to open up. And of course it'll never be bad enough for you to leave him, he's just struggling.

Physical Contact:

It takes him an even longer time to become physical with you. He hasnt been intimate for over a decade at this point, but as soon as he becomes comfortable with little affections like hand holding, cuddling, wrapping his arms around your waist, and kissing? Hoo boy, he melts after your first kiss. It couldve been even a small peck and he would still become a nervous wreck just trying to ask for more.

He'll ask for physical touch more than provide it at first. You'll give him a quick kiss and he'll look up at you super eager just like, "another?" He'll grow into tastful pda's, linking arms, quick hugs and smooches, holding hands all that.

He becomes putty in your hand when you're alone though. You'll nudge him to lean against your shoulder or even lay his head in your lap while youre lounging or watching movies. He becomes so relaxed in your presence, that you'll want to suddenly peck him just to see his suddenly flustered reaction.

You'd give him massages that he would always be hesistant over. He was always a little nervous that he wasnt giving enough to you, but you were quick to assure him that wasnt the case. You'd straddle his hips while giving him a slowww massage. It starts with light touches, tracing your fingers over his shoulder blades and spine. You'd trace your fingers over his chest when you would cuddle too, depending on the position. Or stroke his back sweetly. It was enough of a distraction to keep his mind occupied, away from any spiraling thoughts he might be having.

He purrs. Convince me that he doesnt purr. (You cant)

Being secluded for so long probably means that he doesnt fly as much as he used to. It was probably a passion of his, and he was especially delighted to share it with lillith and charlie.

So during those 7 years he barely flew, he also didnt take care of his wings. I feel like theyre something to be summoned, so they arent constantly tucked into his back. You'd basically scold him sometimes to just let you clean his wings.

You'd do it in like a spring-type bathhouse that Lucifer would have in his castle somehow. It was one of the first intimate moments he's experienced in years, so he was generally going insane. Feeling your hands and a little comb rake through the feathers on his giant wings? You'd have to tap his shoulder sometimes to keep him from falling asleep to the relaxation alone. After the first time, the water you used was pretty dirty and he had a lot of loose feathets that were combed out. Damn, he needed this.

Intimacy:

After awhile, you sit down and would have a discussion about being intimate in bed. Lucifer would be absolutely nervous about overstepping by asking this, (even though you've been together for about a year at this point). He would use his mental scripts and basically practice what he wanted to say.

It would mainly be him saying he wants to do this because he loves you and youve done so much for him that he wants to give back to you in this way. It would consist of him saying its okay if you dont want to, or if you ever want to stop to just say so. But of course you want to, how could you not?

It would start slow, he actually tries taking the lead in this specific situation. He would kiss you first, his lips trembling at the thought that this is actually happening. Feeling his nerves, you'd cup his face and stroke his cheeks with your thumbs lightly. That will help him ease up enough to start letting the passion take over more.

He'd become more confident in slipping his tongue into your mouth and placing his hands on your hips to pull you closer to him. Lucifer would get lost in the moment, pulling you to straddle his lap as he kissed and licked and bit his way across both your shoulders and down to the softeness of your breast. After leaning back to look at the damage his eyes would become increasingly wide, looking up at you with a flustered expression. Seeing you losing it as much as he was, gave him enough courage to keep up at it.

He would almost hesistantly take a hold of your breasts and would massage them softly, running his thumbs across your nipples and becoming absolutely delighted at the reaction you gave. The adrenaline from the pleasure would make you start grinding against his lap, which would make lucifer's hands on your hips pull away for a moment and make his breath stutter. Lucifer would look you up and down as if he didnt know what to do next, studying your body with darting eyes. You'd press a small kiss on his forehead before guiding his hands back onto your hips with yours, keeping your eyes on him the entire time.

"Are you okay, Luci?" He would gulp before nodding his head and turning ridiculously red across his face, maybe from the idea of what was to come, maybe just from your voice alone. You'd keep your hands ontop of his at your hips as you'd keep moving, letting out breathy moans. He would be holding his breath without realizing, an absolute nervous wreck just from the view.

He would already be hard just from the previous make out session, so this would cause him to lean his back against the bed, his strength giving out. You'd keep up at it, feeling his hips jolt up to meet yours at times.

He was a sweaty, twitching mess in front of you and you hated to admit how much that excited you.

His scripted plan was immediately forgotten, but he was quick to remember that he wanted to please you.

He'd snap out of his state of intense pleasure, to carefully switch positions, him looking over you with your back against the bed.

You both discuss it, of course, attempting to set boundaries before hand. Even just the tender discussion would get him riled up. So he'd lean foward and kiss you again, showing off his forked tongue before peppering kisses down your entire body, until he was close enough to let his hot breath heat up your folds.

You'd feel his nervous breath on you before delving in. He would be hesistant of course, but would be quick to get used to your entrance after running his tongue across your entirety multiple times. Lucifer loves providing pleasure this way, so his brain immediately knew what to do once the nerves past. He was quick to take a tight hold onto your thighs to keep you in place as he entered you with his demonic lengthy tongue. He would look up at you as he sort of aimlessly dug around at first, waiting for a reaction. Once he'd see you dip your head back with a muffled moan, he would close his eyes to focus all his attention to that one spot. He'd reach his thumb around to circle and massage your clit that he would find far too quickly. You'd arch your back and try to get more friction against his tongue, but it's easy to forget that he is quite literally the strongest being in Hell. You weren't going anywhere.

He'd love feeling your hands in his hair and would absolutely lose it feeling you pull hard when he'd hit just the right spot. As soon as he set a steady thythm and was hearing your voice become more unhinged, he'd speed up to an extent that you didn't realize was possible after going for so long. You discussed cumming before and he made it very clear that he was okay with you finishing on his face. Fuck, he wanted it. You still warned him, moaning out his name to get his attention, "I-I'm almost there- K-Keep doing that.. like that..! Luci-" you'd almost direct him though the whole process, but were quick to become a moaning mess unable to communicate with words. You'd reach your limit and he would let you buck up into his face this time, loosening his grip on your thighs. He'd pull away after licking you clean, sending overstimulated pleasure across your entire body, with a line of your juices following his tongue as he lifted his head. He would pant with his tongue still sticking out of his mouth, and even through hazy eyes you loved seeing his demonic tongue and thinking about how it just drove you to climax.

Things would switch up again, and you'd sit him against the back of the bedframe. you'd have another quick discussion before seating yourself slowly on his length, which had been throbbing for any contact since the night started. The first few times, he'd do his best not to cum immediately. He hadn't been touched like this in a while, after all. You'd only begin to move once you made sure he was okay since his struggle was written all over his face.

The moment you began to keep a steady space, he would jut his hips upwards, becoming needy to feel this sensation he hadn't felt in over a decade. The first time didn't last long. It was sweet, and he would constantly moan out your name and babble on about how much he loves you. The entire time, you'd be praising him through every move until he was going too fast for you to get a sentence out.

He'd cum inside of you, another previously discussed topic. You essentially had to beg to convince him it was okay. You'd collapse onto his chest, a position he didnt see often. While the two of you always cuddled, you were so focused on making sure he was comfortable, Lucifer realized you didnt often get the chance to just relax on top of him. So after realizing that? Aftercare was amazing.

He'd let you sit with him inside you for a while, before pulling you off and immediately cleaning you up. Some nights, when he felt especially dominant, he would lap up his own cum from your incredibly sensitive cunt. He would swallow some of it, but was mainly pushing anything that dripped out back into your entrance.

After cleaning you up, he would wiggle his way back underneath you and pull you onto his chest, enjoying taking care of you the way you took care of him.

After the first night, lucifer would be much more confident. He'd have that healthy glow, but would be more assertive during meetings, more communicative and wouldnt shut others out as often. It really helped him realize how much you gave to him, and he was determined to give all that and more back to you.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x reader smut #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer

[mymarifae]

i just want to share my thoughts about akito and Death. because even now—even off the back of an event like burn my soul—people STILL talk about him like he's an explicitly depressed, suicidal character whose every action is cause for concern.

i think the idea that akito is suicidal has been floating around for a very long time. and while it's not entirely without merit (more on this in a bit), it's still a misconception. and it really feels like kashika exacerbated the issue. which is unfortunate! it's sad to see such a beautiful song be misinterpreted like this.

now don't get me wrong! kashika is about death. but two things:

1. kashika may have been written for akito, but it's not just for him. it's also deeply personal to ryo haruka. there are certainly similarities and haruryo undoubtedly understood everything akito felt during the events that led up to the crawl green incident, but i don't think it's entirely fair to equate his very real emotions and struggles to those of a fictional character. he and akito share kashika! you can interpret it through either lens, but trying to do so through both is where things start getting messy

2. whiiiiich leads me to my second point. who decided that the only way to interpret kashika and its themes of death is literally?

i think it's pretty common for people to automatically interpret any themes of death literally—or at least very negatively. we're naturally conditioned to fear death, and then we're taught to fear it even more. it's the change. it's the unknown. it's the very idea of an "end." most people aren't very fond of these things! understandably so. but personally? i think the symbolism that can exist behind death is beautiful.

Death is the 13th card of the major arcana. above all else, it symbolizes change (positive change; it's always, always about what's ultimately best for you). Death tells you it's time to move forward; this part of your life is done. there is more waiting for you—new opportunities, new experiences, a brighter, more fulfilling future—but you must be prepared to let go.

the habits and routines you have now? the mindsets that have kept you alive? your current sense of self? whatever it is, whatever Death is asking for, you have to let it "die." it won't serve you anymore. it will only drag you down. and it might be terrifying and you might not be able to comprehend what lies ahead and you might want to kick and scream and struggle, but you can't cling forever. endings are never easy, and sometimes they hurt like hell, but with each end comes a new beginning.

and yes if you've read burn my soul this should all sound very familiar lol:

looking at death from this perspective, kashika and the entirety of find a way out should read a lot more like akito caught on the cusp of a monumental transformation. suspended between "life" (the old) and "death" (the new) so to speak.

up to this point he's been fueled by spite and desperation. two very intense, very negative emotions—but it's an intensity that worked. everyone else on vivid street had years of musical experience, and he had 0. he needed to catch up and he needed to catch up quickly because it's not like he could put the whole world on pause. he could take his time to learn the basics, sure, but every other vivid street musician would continue improving and growing while he did that. there would always be a gap between him and Them.

unless... he worked harder—WAY harder—than all of them combined.

and maybe that wouldn't do it either. maybe he would be stuck in place forever, always playing catch-up, always struggling to stay afloat, always being left behind. he knew this. and he knew the amount of destruction he'd end up inflicting upon himself if he went down this path. but in his mind, it was okay. it was worth it. because he'd rather die endlessly pursuing what he loves most than live not trying at all.

but in find a way out, when facing off against his old bullies, he starts to realize that he was wrong. he's not just stuck in place. he bridged the gap a long time ago, and he almost didn't even notice. and where he's going now, spite and desperation are the wrong emotions to sing from. he needs to let the unhealthy, extreme mindsets die, but also it's hard to let go of something when you would have given up a long long long LONG time ago without it.

but with time, and enough poking and prodding from ken and luka, he does it. he lets go. he lets the old parts of him die, and he passes on to the next stage of his life.

akito's character arc has always been about growth. improvement. learning. Becoming Better. and not just in a musical sense although Yes That Is A Huge Part Of It. his arc is also about his growth as a person. it's about him becoming more confident, and learning how to be kinder and more patient with both himself and other people. it's about him learning how to let his walls down and let his loved ones in. and to trust that they won't start kicking him to death once they're in there.

it's about him learning to exchange the Spite and Desperation for Passion and Love.

it's about him becoming happier.

which is why it's so fucking startling when people talk about him like he's suicidal and on the verge of a breakdown. like, woah, what?

as i said though, kashika isn't the only source of this misconception and i find more merit in the other sources because they're actual aspects of his character and scenes in the story and not song lyrics that shouldn't have been read so literally in the first place. like, yeah. we've seen a ton of unhealthy behavior out of akito. he's had a very extreme perspective on his place in the world from a super early age, and while the severity frequently gets exaggerated in fanon spaces, the shinonome household isn't exactly sunshine and rainbows.

he's been moody, he's been prickly and abrasive, he's lashed out. he keeps most people at arm's length and builds walls so high not even toya can get through them at first. he had to! he wouldn't have survived if he didn't! like, he was targeted and bullied by a group of adults when he first started singing on vivid street. that is actually a genuinely traumatizing thing to happen to a kid!

so no, i'm not against the idea that akito has experienced depression and suicidal ideation in the past. kinda comes naturally with the territory he ended up in. but that's the key word: past.

i get confused when the idea is dragged into the present. because again! the whole point of his character arc is he's overcome all that PAST adversity! recovery isn't linear but we're not about to see him hit rock bottom any time soon. or ever, actually. you know why? because we've already seen his rock bottom. stray bad dog. that event was his big breakdown moment. that's what opened him up to try to start healing.

we're not getting another stray bad dog. stop expecting another stray bad dog.

he's alright, i promise. he's growing up. he's gotten better. he knows he belongs in vivid bad squad. he knows he's loved. he knows his friends will be there to catch him when he falls. he's always been strong, but now he's even stronger. he's excited for his future, and i think we should be too.

#i posted this on twitter when find a way out ended but i realized i never put it over here :0 #project sekai #akito shinonome #vivid bad squad #long post #i love love love love when media isn't afraid to tackle Death as a positive theme #it's so rare. it's so refreshing #because like . i don't think we should be afraid of Death. i don't think Death should be seen as some horrible terrifying despicable End #it's as much a part of life as life itself. it's not a bogeyman out to get you. it's not a harbinger of misery and doom #it's life. it's okay to be a little scared - it's impossible to comprehend what lies beyond after all #but it's okay. Death is here to guide you. it's just time to move on. nothing more. nothing less.

[eyesofshinigami]

Loose Tooth

Rating: G

CW: Dental and teeth related things (I guess?)

Tags: Established relationship, kid fic, fluff, parents being parents

It was bound to happen, sooner or later. Steve just didn't expect to get a call about it in the middle of the day.

"Mr. Munson?"

Immediately, Steve was on alert. His Mom Senses (as Eddie so affectionately calls them) were tingling. "Yes, this is he. Can I ask who's calling?"

"This is Mrs. Schwartz, Eleanor's teacher..."

Oh god. It could be anything. They've never had the school call before. What if Eleanor was hurt? What if she was bleeding? Why were they calling him if she was bleeding out on the floor. Why-

He cut himself off. "Is everything okay? Is Eleanor all right? What happened?"

The teacher had the audacity to laugh. "Oh, no, nothing like that, Mr. Munson. I just wanted to call you and let you know that Eleanor's tooth came out!" Silently, Steve let out a breath of relief as the woman on the other line continued to talk, "She was eating crackers for snack and it popped right out! She was so excited!"

"Oh, well, we kind of figured it would soon. I was literally telling her last night that it wouldn't be long now. I'm glad it didn't hurt her or anything," Steve said, trying to keep his voice even. It was true that Eleanor's tooth had been lose for nearly a month now; Eddie had play-threatened more than once to pull it out for her, but Eleanor wasn't having it. Even with the big one showing up behind it, she was adamant. Stubborn, like both of her dads, really.

"Not at all, she was fine. If anything, it's been a distraction because all she wants to do is look at herself in the mirror," the teacher laughed, which made Steve feel a bit better. "I'm sending her home with it in a little envelope. Hopefully the Tooth Fairy comes tonight!"

Oh shit, Steve thought. I guess that's a thing we're going to have to do now.

--

"What's the going rate for the Tooth Fairy these days, you think?" Steve asked Eddie as they finished clearing up the dinner dishes. Eleanor was busy setting up her room for the impending arrival of the Tooth Fairy, swearing that she needed to change her sheets and find her special cat stuffed animal for the occasion. Who were they to argue with her?

Eddie shrugged. "Hell if I know. I never even got visits from the Tooth Fairy, if I'm honest."

Depressing, but if Steve thought hard about it, well. "Neither did I, now that I think about it." They both got quiet for a minute, lost in their own thoughts. "Kid deserves at least two bucks, right?"

"Oh, absolutely. I'd give her five if I didn't think it would set a dangerous precedent," Eddie said, grinning wide.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Apparently this Tooth Fairy is made of money."

Eddie checks him playfully with his hip. "Come on, only the best for Ms Rigby, right?"

Yeah, okay, maybe Steve could be talked into it. It was her first tooth, after all, and it was pretty amazing.

Ultimately they decided on three, like the chumps they were, but they both knew that it meant ice cream over the weekend. Eleanor was going to insist on paying, like she always did when she had her own money. Steve loved how generous she tried to be, even if her ice cream was always twice the size of theirs.

They waited a couple of hours before they snuck in together, pulling the little tooth out from its hiding place under her pillow and slipping the folded up bills in its place. Eleanor was none the wiser, snoring like a man three times her age. Blissful, but noisy.

Once they made it out and head up to their own room, Steve held up the little baby tooth in his hand. "What the hell are we supposed to do with it now?"

"I guess keep it in your jewelry box? She can't know we have it, it'll ruin the magic for her." Eddie walked over to their dresser, grabbing the stupid fancy box Steve's mom had insisted on getting him for his thirtieth birthday. He never used it, so it just sat there, collecting dust. Maybe they could find a use for it after all. "It's kind of metal, don't you think? We have our kid's face bones in a box on our dresser!"

"Please don't ever call them that again," Steve insisted as he dropped the tooth into the box. "I don't even know why we keep them in the first place. It's kind of weird, don't you think?"

"Who are we to question the bizarre and archaic rituals of our forefathers? Besides, I still think it's pretty fucking cool."

"You would," Steve teased as they puttered around, getting ready for bed. Once he laid down, he rolled over to where Eddie was settling down next to him. "You know what this means, right?" At the shake of Eddie's head, he adds, voice a little wobbly, "It means our baby isn't a baby anymore."

And if they both had a good little cry about that, that's between them and their bedsheets.

(brought to you by my own feels at my kiddo having lost her first tooth. I am Steve, everybody)

#les writes things #steddie #steddie dads #cw: teeth #fluff #rating: g

[specialagentlokitty]

Spike x reader - you’re perfect

I was wondering if you could please do one of the vampire characters (your pick) X reader, where they catch the reader exposing their arm to sunlight. It's your pick whether they were depressed anf harming themselves, or they were trying to see if they can build up a tolerance to sunlight. - anon 💜

Looking at the bright rays of sunlight coming through the cracked roof of the factory, you titled your head a little bit, admiring it.

You didn’t mind being a vampire of course, but you did miss going outside during the day, you missed the warmth of the sunlight.

It was now your biggest enemy, it could destroy you in a matter of seconds.

Which is why you had been doing what you were doing, you walked over, making sure you were still hidden and you slowly raised your arm, sticking it into the sunlight.

You hissed slightly, your skin burned, smoking, and within a second it caught of fire and you pulled it back, pouring some water from the bottle of it.

Taking a few deep breaths, you reached your arm out again, doin the exact same thing.

Again, smoke began to rise but because you could catch fire you were pulled back and shoved away from the light.

“Are you insane?! What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!” Spike yelled.

He grabbed the bottle of water and your hand, pouring it over your arm, where your arm was badly burnt.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

“No…”

Spike dragged you across the factory and he sat you down on a table, ripping some fabric from a table cloth laying nearby he began to wrap it around your arm.

“Then what were you doing?”

You kept quiet, avoiding his gaze.

When he was finished tending to your burnt arm he placed a finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards him.

“Love? What were you doing?” He asked quietly.

“I.. I thought maybe I could book a tolerance to the sun…”

“You know that’s not how this whole vampire thing works, you’ve know this for over a hundred years. Why now?”

You glanced away, then looked back at him.

“I miss it all Spike… the sun… the warmth… I just want to be able to walk in it…”

Spike moved his hand to the side of your face, running his thumb along your cheek.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you, but I can’t let you keep risking yourself like this, I can’t let you keep putting yourself in harms ways.”

“I’m sorry…”

Spike chuckled a little bit, and he placed a kiss to your forehead, resting his forehead on it.

Bringing your hand up you brushed your knuckles along the side of his face, running your fingers through his head and closed your eyes.

“I know… but you can’t keep doing this to yourself love…”

“I just… I thought it was going to be the best thing ever… now I’m just… I’m tired of it all..”

Spike pulled away, and he looked at you with mixed emotions in his eyes.

“I know I may not exactly have the best track record, especially when it comes to choice in partners, I mean come on, Dru is psychotic at best, but I know that despite being a vampire, having no soul, you’re still just as gentle as somebody with one.”

Spike smiled at you, standing in front of you.

“You are everything and more than a vampire could ever be, hell, more than a vampire like me deserves. But you still love me all the same.”

“Of course I do…”

Spike smiled, leaning down to carefully kiss you, mindful not to hurt your already injured arm.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead on yours once again, his nose brushing against yours.

“You’re royalty, you know that? Far above any of those dumb assholes out there.”

You laughed a little.

“Really?”

“Yes, to me you are.”

You beamed a little, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

He placed a hand on the back of your head, planting a kiss just behind your ear.

Spike closed his eyes, and he rested his cheek on your head, holding you closely and tightly.

Everything had always been so wrong, especially recently, but you weren’t. You were so right, so perfect, and he would rather be staked through the heart a million times before he let a single thing happen to you

#buffy the vampire slayer imagine #buffy the vampire slayer #Buffy the vampire slayer x reader #Buffy the vampire slayer x you #spike #spike x reader #spike x you #spike imagine

[auroracalisto]

good enough

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x gn!reader, 8k words tw: MAJOR MISCOMMUNICATION TROPE. divorce, cussing (lots of f bombs at some point), lots of arguing, angst, at one point, reader is said to have had depression before. the reader and bradley are both idiots and neither one of them can properly deal with shit. macho man rooster ends up letting fear gets the best of him and he literally ruins his own life bc of it LMAO, possibly ooc if you squint, possibly questionable actions when it comes to friends, this is dramatic as hell (and i loved every minute of it), self-doubt, angry characters, regret is strong here, rooster fears death and makes it a personality trait™ a/n: based on the song "good enough" by maisie peters. sorry for all of the tws, but i just wanted to try and mark all the boxes. but fr i love bradley. this is purely a play on the song i named, and is just a piece of fiction. a dramatic piece of fiction. like literally take rooster and place him in some angsty romance novel, but cut out the smut. that's this. i am also so sorry for the length of this. i just... started going and i couldn't stop. LMAO

Your heart lurched to your throat as you stood there, his head turned away from your lips—he was avoiding your touch. He didn’t have to say it for you to realize it.

You hesitantly smiled, backing down. Maybe he just had a bad day. It happened pretty often, so taking it personally wouldn’t have benefited you in any way.

He was your favorite person, and you knew you were his. You two were best friends until the end of time. That’s how it had been since even before you two got married—that’s how it would stay.

The television that sat in the living room had long since been turned off. The fan perched in the corner of the room silently hummed along, providing little relief to the California heat that plagued your home.

"Rooster," you began, rubbing the back of your neck. Sweat stuck to the palm of your hand, and you grimaced as you quickly wiped your hand off on the seat of your pants. "How was your day? I know it's been busy—"

"—we need to talk," he said, cutting you off.

He didn't even give you a chance to question things as he walked past you, sitting down on the sofa in your shared condominium. You blinked slowly at your husband, but you gave a small nod. Your feet moved on their own accord as you sat beside him. You placed a hand on his knee, and he only pulled himself away from you.

You swallowed thickly, nerves getting the best of you. Had you done something to offend him recently? Did something happen with Maverick again? You had thought they were doing well—the videos Natasha had sent you were proof enough of that. It warmed your heart to know that he was finally finding himself in this crazy world.

Maybe it was just hot. Yes, that’s it. The heat was getting to him. It had been getting to everyone on base, and at work. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was the same thing here.

"Bradley…?" You said nothing more than his name, watching him with nothing but pure adoration behind your eyes. He meant the world to you. There was nothing he could say or do to change this, even if he was avoiding you.

The man looked at anything but you. His dark brown eyes stared at the black television, and then they moved to the grey carpet just beneath his boot-clad feet.

You must have just vacuumed. He could see the indentations, and that’s what he chose to focus on as he searched for the right words to say. But they never came.

"I want a divorce," he said.

It was so simple. Those four words.

And just like that, your world came crashing around you.

Where was this coming from? Did you do something to upset him?

The words swirled around in your brain, repeating over and over until it hit you like a freight train, knocking the air from your chest. He wants a divorce.

You sat on the edge of the black sofa, eyes fluttering shut as you took in a deep breath. Your hands rested in fists on top of your thighs as you wracked your mind for an explanation. You couldn't find one.

There was nothing that could justify whatever this was.

How long had he been thinking about this?

"Where… where is this coming from?" you asked. You just had to know.

"I don't want to talk about it. Just… please."

"What?" You looked up at him in disbelief. "You—you want to divorce me but you won't even give me a reason?" you asked. Your eyes burned as you held back your tears. You couldn't cry. Not now. If you cried that first tear, then surely, they would never stop.

"I have never asked you for anything, Y/n. Please, just say yes.”

"I don't understand where this is coming from, Bradley," you said, reaching forward to take ahold of his hand. "Please. Talk to me. I want to understand what's going on."

Rooster clenched his jaw, looking down at your hands. Your wedding band glinted in the soft glow of the light overhead. The beautiful piece glared at him as he fought to find the right words to say—but nothing he could say would make this better. Not now.

The words left him without a second thought.

"I don't love you."

Oh.

Oh, no.

No, no, no. He couldn't be serious. He couldn't be telling you the truth right now. He did love you. He married you! Why would he ever ask you to marry him if he didn't love you?

Why would you plan your life together if he didn’t love you?

But even though you could create more and more questions in your mind, trying to placate every emotion coursing through your veins, nothing made sense.

You pulled your hand away as your tears finally began to fall. If he didn't love you, you wouldn't force him to be with you any more than he wanted.

Rooster inwardly grimaced, but he wasn’t about to let you see that. He needed to be strong—he needed to save face and keep on digging in the same grave he had started.

"Just… just tell me when."

"When what?"

"When did this happen? When did you fall out of love? I—I thought you loved me, Bradley. I love you."

He pursed his lips. He seemed to hesitate as he allowed his eyes to meet yours. Rooster's blood rushed to his ears, and his fingers itched to grab onto something. To grab onto you. But he couldn’t. He couldn't even look at you properly when you looked so sad, but he forced himself to do so anyway. You deserved that, at least. You deserved to be looked at when he was ending the relationship you fought so hard to keep.

"I don't know. It just… happened."

He was lying. He had to be lying. There was no way he was being honest—he loves you. He loves you, and this was all just some bad dream. Some bad joke that Hangman put him up to. Maybe Fanboy was in on it, too. Surely, someone put him up to this. They had money in a bowl somewhere, waiting for your reaction so they would know who won. He’d whip out his phone soon and text them the result.

But the way he looked at you… you knew he was telling you the truth. He wanted a divorce. This was happening, whether you wanted it to or not. There was no cruel bet, no ulterior motive.

This was happening.

Every moment of the past three years pierced your brain—Bradley asking you out in the middle of the Hard Deck. Meeting his friends. Picking out your wedding rings. Becoming Y/n Bradshaw. The kisses you shared. The whispered conversations, the happy smiles, the—

He was your life. He is your life. You love him more than life itself.

But he loved you.

Loved. Past-tense.

He did love you. Something changed. What had changed?

You abruptly stood up, roughly wiping your tears away. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be near him right now. Your heart was far too heavy, weighed down by the immense burden of his confession.

"Alright," you said. "I… I won't force you to stay with me. I would never do that to you, Bradley. I would… I would never, ever want you to do anything you don’t want to do.” You held back a sob, fists balled at your sides. “We can get a divorce."

Relief spread across his face. He couldn't smile, though. This ended up being a lot harder than he expected it to be.

"Thank you," he said. He stood up, towering over you like usual. "I appreciate it."

You gave a curt nod, averting your gaze. Your tongue poked out, nervously wetting your lips as you cleared your throat. He appreciated it.

Were you just a joke to him?

"I will… I will make arrangements. I will leave by next week."

"What? You don't have to do that. There's no rush—"

"—I'll leave by next week," you cut him off, no longer looking at him.

What was he doing? You didn’t need this. You didn’t need him. As you took a step forward, the tears began to fall. Your husband forced himself to stay put as you rushed off to your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

You found little comfort in the blankets that now surrounded you, tears wetting the pillow on which you rested your head night after night. You found little comfort in the place you spent with your husband, time after time, lamenting how much you loved each other. Planning the future of your life—of your family. Of your relationship that should have only grown in love.

The memories of this bed burned in the back of your mind. You could hardly breathe as the sobs plowed through your body.

This wasn’t fair.

This couldn’t be real.

Rooster slowly sat back down, burying his face in his hands. His elbows dug into his thighs, a choked sob catching in the back of his throat. He couldn’t believe he allowed himself to say that to you. It was far from the truth. But there was nothing he could do about it now.

This was for the best.

This would keep you safe.

As the sun peered through the grey curtains, setting just beyond the horizon, Rooster stood up. He wiped his tears away, instantly hardening. He had done this time and time again. He would hide, folding back into himself like a metal chair—he’d be there for people when he was needed, but he would be just out of the way until then. He wouldn’t bother you any longer than he needed to.

This was for the best—you wouldn’t have to live your life wondering what could have been.

If he died, that was that. You would move on, and he could rest peacefully in the afterlife.

His father hadn’t ever given his mother a chance to do something like that. He wouldn’t be making the same mistake.

Three years had passed.

Three, long and grueling years had inched by, taking your misery along with you. The New Year would pass over and over, and the only thing you would write on your resolution list was: Move on.

But you never could. That list ended up in the garbage only weeks after drafting it up.

How could you when the love of your life left as he did? How could you when you knew he was the only thing that kept you going, even if you were hundreds of miles away?

They would never say it out loud, but your friends never quite said anything about why he divorced you—why he fell out of love. But why would he tell them something like that? Rooster generally kept to himself. It wasn't something that he would have been very honest about, to begin with.

You knew they knew something more, but they never said anything. You never expected them to, either. They were your friends as much as they were his, and they had been his friend for far longer. You couldn't blame them. Whatever they knew—that was his business. But you kept silent, allowing yourself to wallow in self-pity for more than you should have.

But just like you couldn't blame them for keeping his secrets… who could blame you?

You had your own life before Rooster, yes, you did. You didn’t depend on him. You were independent, and you had your own interests and everything. You didn’t need him. But with his confession, it was as if everything you had ever known had been tossed out of the window of a speeding car in an instant, shattering against the run-down pavement. Pieces flew everywhere—you'd never be able to find them again, let alone put them back together.

You'd never have enough glue for something like that.

You would never be able to repair the gaping hole that was in your heart.

And you knew it was silly. You shouldn’t have ever let yourself trust someone so completely. But you never thought something like that would happen. Rooster was so easy to love.

He was such a happy person—he exuded confidence. He was the epitome of an amazing human being. And yet, he still fell out of love with you.

You never believed someone could just fall out of love so easily.

So, instead of remaining in the very place you felt like you were sinking in, you did what you thought was best. You packed your things and moved to Virginia. At least there, you'd be far enough away that he'd never find you. The mileage did little to comfort you, but it was something.

At least here, you felt like you could breathe.

Changing from the west coast to the east coast was drastic—but you adapted. You had to. You couldn't continue living in the very place that was threatening you at every given minute. You couldn’t continue on in a place where at every corner, something reminded you of him. It was driving you into a familiar depression—one that you had known before Rooster, and one that you would now know after Rooster.

When you left, Phoenix was devastated. Other than Bob, you were her closest friend. She never stopped talking to you—she never stopped being friends with you, even when you moved across the country. When Phoenix asked you to come in to visit, you hesitated. But then she promised you that Rooster wouldn't be there. That he would be visiting some family he had up north—his girlfriend's family. He would be using this free time to get to know them better.

You wouldn't say you were happy for him. Hell, that was far from the truth. Despite the fact you no longer wore your ring on your finger, it was always on a chain around your neck. Your heart still beats for him, no matter how many times you had tried to move on. And you did it all. You tried everything that Google said to do. One night stands, going out with strangers, having people set you up, hell, you even tried therapy. But it never worked.

Why would it? Rooster was the love of your life. He was the one you had seen yourself dying with—he was the one you wanted to grow old with. And he didn't want that in you. He didn't see the same things.

He didn’t see your relationship as a rising sun just beyond the mountain tops. He was already there with the setting sun, disappearing beyond the horizon. He had been there, at the end of your relationship, far before you even had a chance to find the middle. He had made peace with the end. You couldn’t even find peace in the beginning.

After much pestering and a FaceTime call from both Phoenix and Bob, you were convinced to join them back in California for a week. But your only condition was that Phoenix would be paying half for your plane ticket. She agreed in a heartbeat.

So that's why you stood here now, in front of the old dormitory in which you used to visit your friends in. You had already been to the hotel you'd be staying at, and you took a taxi to the base.

The grey building towered over you, making you feel far smaller than you actually were. Memories sat behind those walls, waiting for you to relive them, even if you didn’t want to.

It only took one text message to Natasha before she came barreling down the sidewalk, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. Bob was not far behind, and Hangman was taking his sweet ole time. You didn't know he'd be around, but you felt better knowing he was—you had been close before Rooster sent in the papers. He helped you pack and get your things to Virginia.

You hugged Phoenix tightly, smiling up at her.

"It's been too long!" she nearly shouted, excitement running through her body. As she pulled away, Bob pulled you into a hug. He greeted you as he had so many times, with a hug and a simple ‘hello.’

Last but not least, Hangman sent you a smile. He pulled you into a hug, despite the fact he used to be one of the last people you would expect it from. You melted into the hug, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

"It's… it's good to be back. I'm glad to see you guys."

"Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy are already at the bar. Said they'd just meet us there. You ready?" Phoenix grinned.

You were as ready as you would ever be. You gave a small nod to your friend, and before you knew it, you were on your way to the very place you met your ex-husband. The Hard Deck.

It was suffocating, standing in that corner all alone. Your friends played pool, and you watched as the different colored balls sunk into the pockets that lined the edge. Hangman stood off to the side, beating some stranger in darts.

Rooster had always been good at that.

Lost in your mind like you had been so many times before, the sound of a glass falling at the bar made you jump.

And then you saw him. Your own glass slipped through your fingertips, crashing onto the floor. Shards littered the wood floor. Phoenix yelped your name in surprise, coming to your side immediately.

"What's wrong?" she asked, placing a hand on your arm to try and comfort you. You continued to stare, and she eventually looked in the direction of your gaze. Her eyes widened in surprise, lips parting as she tried to find something to say.

He wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to be anywhere near you.

And he was looking right at you.

"Y/n, it's okay, he's not—"

You pulled your arm away from Phoenix, taking a couple of steps back before you took off running in the direction of the restrooms. It was as good of a hiding spot as anywhere, and you'd be able to collect yourself before going back out there. You couldn’t possibly run past him—he’d stop you. Or at least, try to follow you. Phoenix would make him leave. Surely, she wouldn't just let him stay.

You locked yourself in a stall, sitting down on the toilet seat. You took in a deep, releasing a shaky breath as tears clouded your vision. A hand pressed to your mouth, elbows digging into the meat of your thighs as you tried to keep yourself calm.

This wasn't happening! She promised he wasn't here. Why would she lie?

Maybe she didn't know.

The bright light in the bathroom was far too much.

The dripping water from the sink struck the porcelain—plip, plip, plip.

The noise from the bar was deafening as you sat there, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Loud voices echoed through the building, striking your ears in an instant. But the more you cried, the more your sobs became the only thing you heard.

It had been ages since you cried over him, so why now? Why were you so triggered by just seeing him?

You tried to calm yourself down but to no avail.

You loved him. You love him. You never stopped. You couldn't just stop.

You tried so hard. You spent years trying to forget the man who ripped your heart in two with four simple words.

But the universe had a funny way of working. It seemed to work against you in every way possible, no matter what.

You could never win.

You would never win.

No matter what, you were never good enough.

You hadn't been good enough in school. You weren't good enough at work. And you hadn't been good enough for Rooster, even when you were married. You weren't good enough for him, now, either.

There was a knock at the bathroom door before you heard it creak open. Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to keep quiet, choked sobs caught in your chest.

Worn shoes popped up underneath the stall door you found refuge in. Those same damn shoes you bought him once for Christmas, four years ago. He had been so excited—they were almost the exact same pair his mother had bought him one year for his birthday. His father's favorite brand—his favorite style of shoe.

God, you searched everywhere for those damn shoes.

And he kept them.

Silence enveloped the bathroom, save for your stifled sobs. You rested your shoulder against the old paneled walls, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to ignore him. But he knew you were there. It was far too late, now.

Rooster stood there, fist raised to knock on the stall door. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. What would he even say? What would have been good enough?

Three years had come and gone without you. Three long years in which he felt as if he was drowning, just existing. He would have been better off launching himself into that ocean, the same as his father. His wedding band was stuffed away in some kind of pocket, always near him or on his person in some way. He tried to get over you—one-night stands, blind dates, even going as far as asking Hangman to find him a girl.

It worked, for a while.

He started dating Kristie—a sweet woman who worked as a nurse on base. But she saw right through him. She knew who he was, and what was going on in that head of his.

She wasn't mad—a bit disappointed, yes, but it didn't stop her from breaking up with him and canceling their planned vacation up north together.

She wasn’t you. She would never be you.

And he didn’t think he would ever see you again.

Rooster found himself in the middle of the Hard Deck, never once expecting you to be there. None of the Dagger Squad had said anything about you. He didn't know you were even going to be in town.

He felt like he couldn't breathe when he laid eyes on you.

The yellow lighting cast a soft glow on your skin. You were beautiful. You had always been beautiful, but damn, you looked even more beautiful now. Maybe it was just the years that had passed him by.

The walls of his small corner of the world couldn’t fall on him sooner.

The glass that crunched under your shoes became the only thing he heard until he watched as you ran back into the hallway.

In a split second, Hangman was beside him, obviously pissed.

"What the hell, man? Why aren't you with Kristie?"

"She broke it off."

Hangman clenched his jaw. He couldn't believe this was happening, but then again, Rooster had his head far up his ass more often than not. Hangman punched him in the arm, just enough for it to hurt.

"You need to leave," he said, watching as Rooster recoiled in pain.

"What?" Rooster looked at him in surprise. "No."

"Yes!" he exclaimed. Was this idiot really that much of an asshole?

This time, Phoenix spoke up, her arms crossed over her chest. "We promised you wouldn't be here. You're supposed to be up north. You're supposed to be far away from here!"

"You promised?" Rooster stared her down.

"Well, yeah, you asshole! You broke their heart. They didn't even want to come here in the first place. God, I should've just gone to see them instead of dragging them out here," Phoenix groaned, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand.

Rooster hesitantly took a step forward.

"Rooster, get out," Hangman said, voice low.

He shook his head. He needed to talk to you.

"Rooster!"

He broke out into a run, and before Hangman could follow, Phoenix grabbed his arm.

"What the hell?" he stared at her in disbelief.

"Just let it happen," she said.

"Let what happen? Watch Y/n get their heart stepped on all over again?"

"Just… just let it happen."

Phoenix would wait for you to berate her, later. But for now, she could only wish her friends would try to make up. She could only wish that Rooster would gain a pair and grow up. Her heart ached for you as she watched Rooster run back to the bathrooms, knowing that she couldn’t ever take the pain away from you. The only one who could do that was Rooster, himself, and even then, she wasn’t sure if that would happen.

And now, he found himself standing there, the silence deafening in the small space. The light was bright in the enclosure—brighter than he remembered. His hand was still hovering, his arm growing heavy as he debated on knocking.

Should he just leave? Should he do as Hangman said and walk out? But he couldn't just leave. Not now. Not when he knew he made the biggest mistake of his life, telling you all that bullshit.

You used your sleeves to wipe your tears away as you shakily got to your feet. Your fingers struggled to even unlock the stall door, but when you did, you swung it open. Rooster had to back up just to avoid being hit with the metal.

The two of you just stood there, bright light casting shadows onto the old tile floor. Not a word was said as Rooster stared at you.

You were exactly as he remembered, if not better. You had changed your hair since the last time he saw you. He kept the mustache, and his hair was still cut the same. You kept the same style and the same makeup (or lack thereof).

You still looked at him the same… even if it quickly changed into one of anger.

You were still so beautiful.

His voice caught in his throat. He wanted to talk to you, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to you. Nothing he could say would make things better.

He was such an idiot.

You stepped forward, walking to the stark white sink. You grabbed a few paper towels and wet them before carefully wiping the remnants of your tears. You stared at your reflection in the rounded mirror, your lip caught between your teeth as you hiccuped.

"Y/n?" Rooster tentatively began. He raised a hand to touch your shoulder.

You immediately moved away from his touch, glaring in his direction.

His fist clenched beside him as he watched you.

You tossed the paper towels in the trash and pushed past him, quickly leaving the bathroom.

"Y/n," he repeated.

As you walked, he followed.

Your friends stood in their respective corner, knowing they should intervene. Yet they stayed, hoping that somehow, Rooster would fix his fuck up. They couldn’t keep watching the two of you fight some imaginary battle—they couldn’t watch the two of you wish your life away for something that was quite literally at the tips of your fingers.

Phoenix wasn't too sure if he'd be able to fix this. Hangman honestly wanted to hang a man.

You shoved the doors open, walking into the cool California night. It wasn’t like the cold in Virginia. Virginia’s winters were unforgiving—the snow that would fall would chill you to your very core. Virginia winters would put southern California to shame in an instant. At this very moment, you wished you were there, standing in the chilling wind, begging for some kind of relief—at least then, your body would become numb even if your mind was still running a mile a minute.

Nothing could have prepared you for what had transpired. Nothing could have prepared you for seeing the man you fought so hard to forget.

With no car, you continued walking. You'd call a taxi at some point. Right now, you just needed to breathe.

But you had yet to realize Rooster was still following you.

The man grabbed ahold of your wrist, making you stop in the middle of the damn parking lot. Cars and trucks alike littered the parking spots. A few people walked past you as they went into the bar, ignoring the tension that stood in the middle of it all.

You whipped around, jerking your arm away from him with wide eyes. "What's your fucking problem?!"

Rooster paused, body going rigid as he waited for you to continue.

You had never yelled at him, even when he asked for a divorce.

"Why the fuck are you even here? You're not supposed to be here! You have a fucking girlfriend. Get away from me. I don't ever want to see you again."

Tears sprung to your eyes once more. You tilted your head back, wishing they would just stop. The stars stared down at you, mocking you where you stood. The sky was so close, and yet so far away.

God, would this man ever make you stop crying?

"Y/n—"

"—just go away! I don't want you here!"

"Please," he began, "I need to talk to you. I need to apologize."

"Apologize?! Oh, that's rich! Just leave me alone. You did enough damage when you asked for a divorce. Just leave me alone."

"Y/n, please," he continued. "You… please just hear me out."

"I heard you out once, and it was the worst fucking time of my life," you said. "I'm not listening to you ever again."

You turned back around, set on leaving—this time a bit faster. But his words grounded you in your spot, heart leaping to your throat once more.

"It was a mistake!"

You stared at the gravel that crunched underneath your feet. You could feel your pulse rushing through your body, fast and unsteady.

Nothing could have prepared you for that.

"It was a mistake, Y/n," he said, his voice far quieter this time. "I never should have asked for a divorce. I never should have said anything. I should—I should have just—"

"—what, toughed it out? Let me realize you stopped loving me when you started cheating on me or some shit?"

His eyes widened in surprise.

"What? No. No, Y/n… I… I never should have said anything. I never stopped loving you."

What?

You couldn't breathe—your lungs constricted in your chest, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. Your body burned as you looked up at the night sky, stars littering the vast ocean of darkness. They still mocked you, but this time, dark clouds rolled in. Perhaps the sky knew just how you felt. The moon cast a soft glow on everything in its path.

Tears blurred your vision once more.

He never stopped loving you.

You let out a sob, turning to face him.

"What?"

"I never stopped loving you," Rooster lamented. "I… still love you."

"Then… then… why?"

"I couldn't do it to you."

"What? Do what?"

"I couldn't die! I couldn't die and leave you a widow. I couldn't end up with the same fate my dad had, leaving you just the same as my mom," he said.

"Well you're not fucking dead, are you?!"

Rooster paused, lips parting to speak.

"You're not dead. You're standing right in front of me, telling me that the reason you fucking divorced me was because you didn't want me to be a widow?! I would have been less upset if you had fucking died!" You took in a deep breath, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You did not have to do that. You did not have to make me miserable. You did not have to make me feel like the one person who loved me was an entire lie!”

Rooster winced. Your words pierced his soul like a sharp bullet, ricocheting off the crevices of his very soul.

"Fuck off, Bradley Bradshaw," you said, fists clenched at your sides. "I never want to see you again."

"But Y/n—"

"—no! No, I'm over you, you bastard! I don't love you anymore. I haven't in years. You're still in love with me? That's great. Fucking deal with it. You deserve to feel the pain of not knowing. You deserve to lose yourself in everything you thought was yours.”

Bradley Bradshaw had never felt as if he wasn't good enough. When he was faced with adversity, he worked harder. When he felt bad about something, he did more to try and overcome that. He had never felt as if anything he did wasn't good enough. But in this very moment, he stood there, wondering how in the world he could have fucked up so badly.

He wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough, for you. That much was evident as he watched you once again walk away from him, disappearing into the night.

His eyes fluttered shut and he held back his tears as he stood there, waiting for lightning to strike him where he stood. Surely, it'd be better than having to go back into the Hard Deck after a screaming match like that.

He deserved it.

A hand on his shoulder made him flinch. He opened his eyes, head darting in the person's direction. Hangman watched him for a moment before he patted his back.

"You fucked up, man," he began, averting his gaze. "Now you've gotta fix it."

"But how?"

"For fucks sake, Rooster," he groaned. He ran a hand through his perfect hair, musing it from the stress of his friend. He couldn't believe he'd ever thought Rooster might actually be a pretty smart guy. This dude was dumber than a box of rocks, and this just proved it.

"They still love you, you know," Bob said, arms crossed over his chest. "We heard what they said, but they're just hurt. You really did a number on them."

He glanced over his shoulder. The Dagger Squad stood there, all watching him as he stood there, in the middle of the parking lot.

This… was all his fault.

Those four simple words should have never left his mouth. He should have been spending the last three years with you, not trying to forget you. Because if he were to have died in that time, it would have at least been with you and not with the overwhelming ghost of you haunting his every waking move. He could have at least left you behind knowing you were loved instead of wondering if he ever truly loved you at all.

Time passed slowly in the month it took you to finally calm down from the emotional rollercoaster Rooster had you on. You were back in your apartment, the east coast calling your name (even though the west coast screamed for your return; the sandy beaches and the salty water just weren’t the same, here).

Your heart ached—every romantic thing you saw made you want to cry. It all reminded you of your ex-husband, and now, there was no changing things. In your anger, you had told him you never wanted to see him again—that you didn't love him. You made sure he knew that when you left him standing in the middle of that damned parking lot.

What a lie that was.

But if he could tell lies, why couldn't you? Why couldn't you force him to live with the idea that you didn't love him, just the way he did that to you?

Regret became you.

You wondered if that’s how he felt all this time—regretful.

Did Rooster even have a bone in his body that was capable of feeling anything other than pride?

Maverick would know.

Did he know about all of this? He had been Rooster’s best man at the wedding. Surely, he knew something.

Your arm rested over your eyes, blocking out the sunlight that peaked through your curtains. Saturday mornings never got easier for you. Hell, no morning did. Getting up was a constant chore. You had already gotten ready for the morning, but you slipped right back into bed, not wanting to deal with the idea of being a live, somewhat functioning adult at the moment.

Your phone began to ring, loud and in your ear as you lay in bed, staring at the back of your arm. With a groan, you rolled over and picked it up.

Phoenix was calling you.

You answered after a moment of your fingers hovering over the bright buttons. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone.

"Hello?"

"Y/n? Hey! So, uh, quick thing, and I promise you I didn't know about it until Bagman just said something, but he gave Rooster your address."

Silence enveloped your bedroom as you processed what she had just said.

"What?!" You immediately sat up in your bed, gripping your phone with unforgiving strength. "What the hell!"

"I know," she continued, voice laced with worry—she didn’t know how you were going to take this. "I know, and I'm sorry. But, uh, he said that Rooster is probably gonna show up within the next hour or so. He caught the earliest flight out there."

"Why?"

"Why?" Natasha echoed. "Y/n, why do you think?"

You fell silent. You stared down at the blankets that pooled at your feet.

Day after day, you wondered if Rooster would show up, begging you to take him back. But the sun continued to set, day in and day out, and nothing changed. Nothing ever changed.

"Y/n, I know he's an asshole,” Natasha said. “I know he broke your heart. But… Rooster's been through a lot. He might not have realized how bad of an idea it was until he went through with it. He’s… he’s done nothing but regret it ever since.”

"I know he's been through a lot," you said, voice far quieter than it had been. "I know he has. But… but that's no excuse. We were married. I was his partner. He took that away… he took that all away.”

"There's no excuse for him," Phoenix said. "I’m not making one. You’re… you’re my very best friend. But if he shows up and you don't know what to do, you have two options. Turn him away, or… hear him out. Whatever you do, I’m here one hundred percent of the way.”

You swallowed thickly. Without saying anything else, you hung up the phone, tossing it onto your bed. You buried your face in your hands—it seemed to be the only thing you could do recently that would actually allow you to catch your breath.

And then, your doorbell rang.

That was far less than an hour.

The shrill ding of the bell resounded in your brain. You would have to get that changed to something less annoying.

Getting out of your bed and walking down the hallway was the easy part. It was opening the front door that made you want to die as your hand slowly grabbed onto the knob.

You can just turn him away. It'll be okay, you told yourself. He will leave if you want him to.

With much hesitation, you opened the door.

Rooster stood there, worried he had gotten the wrong door and Hangman had given him some shit directions. But as you appeared in the doorway, relief spread across his features. He was dressed in those same shoes you had given him. He wore a pair of jeans, and he wore one of those stupid Hawaiian shirts that he loved so much.

You still had the pink and yellow one you had stolen before you left him in the top left drawer of your dresser. It still smelled like Rooster… but the laundry detergent you had was the same exact one you had used when you were married to him.

Everything you owned reminded you of him.

"Y/n?"

"Bradley."

His eyebrows furrowed as he watched you. He nervously wrung his hands together as his eyes looked anywhere but you. This wasn’t that confident, macho man you knew. This wasn’t Rooster.

This was Bradley Bradshaw, in the flesh.

His heart was on the line, and he could only hope that the universe would grant him one last wish—let you believe him. Let you understand him.

He would understand if you turned him away. He would leave, and he would never bother you again. But he hoped that you’d accept him for who he is—for everything he has been.

Again.

Even though it took him so long to realize his mistake. Even though he made so many mistakes just to find himself trying to take it all back.

Rooster never thought he was perfect, but hell. The universe really didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt, did it?

"Listen, I know you said you didn't want to see me," he began. "But I can't… I can't keep doing this."

You stayed silent.

Bradley was a lot of things. Stupid, funny, a great, flaming ball of firey anxiety. And still, the love of your life, even now.

Nothing would ever stop that from happening, even if he shoved his hand in your chest, pulled out your heart, and crushed it right in front of you.

Even now, after all this time, you knew you loved him.

He took your silence as an invitation to continue.

"I love you," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never stopped. I just… fucked up. God, Y/n, I fucked up so bad. I never should have asked you for a divorce. I never should have said any of that shit. I thought I was protecting you. But the only thing I ended up doing was hurting you more, and I never wanted that to happen.

"I love you, so much, Y/n. I never stopped. I… you are the love of my life. But… but even if I loved you, it wouldn't stop life from standing in the way. My dad died. He left my mom all alone. I couldn't do that to you. I couldn't bear the thought of you suffering, all alone, wondering what the hell you could have done to make things different. I couldn't let you have the same fate as my mom."

You stared at him, hands gripping the door.

"Why didn't you just talk to me?"

"I… I know I should have."

"So why didn't you?"

"I had already made up my mind…"

And once Bradley Bradshaw made up his mind, that was that. Most of the time, anyway.

Silence enveloped the two of you once more. Birds chirped in the background, cars honking in the backed-up traffic on the interstate not too far from your home. Life was still going on, just like it always would. Life would continue to find a way, even if someone left it behind—even if someone felt as if their world was crashing to an end.

Three years ago, if Bradley Bradshaw had shown up at your door, telling you he had made a mistake, you would have believed him. But watching him as he stood at your door this very moment, you weren't sure. You had every right to slam the door in his face, burning the image of his scared self in the back of your mind. But as you stood here, hands dangling down by your thighs, you knew you couldn't.

Were you stupid for what you were about to do?

Maybe.

But so was Bradley.

"I've started seeing a therapist," Bradley spoke, breaking the silence. "He said it would be good for me to at least… try to tell you why."

"Why you left me?"

He gave a small nod. "Yes. And… he made me realize it never should have happened. It was my fault. It was never yours."

You rubbed your eyes out of frustration, unable to stop yourself from sniffling. A groan escaped you, and he frowned in response.

"Y/n, I… words can't even begin to describe how sorry I am. I can't take back what I said. I can't change the fact that I asked you for a divorce because I was terrified of dying and leaving you alone. But… but I can do this," he said, licking his lips as he watched you.

You tilted your head in confusion, not sure where he was going with this.

Time moved slowly—just as slowly as it had when your world came to a startling halt.

He suddenly held out his hand, locking eyes with you once more. Dark brown eyes peered into yours; those same brown eyes you used to watch until you fell asleep in his arms. Those same brown eyes you stared into when you first said, “I do.” Those same brown eyes you looked into when he asked you for a divorce.

"Hi," the man said, a small smile appearing on his mustache-clad lips. "I'm Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw."

Your eyes widened, your heart leaping to your chest once more, but not because you were scared to face him. But because you couldn't believe this was really happening.

He… was starting over.

You were starting over.

Hesitantly, you took his hand, firmly grasping it before you shook it.

"It's so nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw," you said. Your eyes were still red from your tears, but you began to smile, pushing down the pain and regret of the last three years. It wasn’t worth it. The utter buffoon standing in front of you was worth it. "I'm Y/n Bradshaw," you continued with a grin. "Quite a coincidence, huh?"

Bradley just smiled, tilting his head to the side. You had never changed your name. In fact, you stayed the same, despite the icy shield around your heart. Not that he could blame you.

You were his Y/n. The love of his life—the reason he continued on, and the reason he believed in love, despite the fear that sucked the rational thinking out of him.

Because even when death knocked at his door, he knew you would be there. You would be there, just like his mom was for his dad.

Nothing could change that.

Not the divorce, not his lie that lasted for years. Not the untimely “confession” that left the two of you reeling for each other.

Nothing could change how he felt for you.

And with one instant, you knew your world was mending itself. You'd have problems—that you were sure. You’d have to work on communication; on both sides. But as you moved out of the way for Rooster to come in, you knew it would be worth it.

Love, no matter how much it hurt, was worth it.

Good enough or not.

"Why don't you come in, Mr. Bradshaw? I think we have a lot to catch up on."

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, taking ahold of your hand.

"Only if you'll have me."

"Of course, I will."

This was a start. A new start.

A good start.

You were both starting over. And although you wouldn’t ever say it out loud, a part of you was starting to realize that you may have always been good enough—sometimes, fear was stronger than anyone’s resolve. Fear could make even the bravest people pause; it could cause stupid decisions and brash opinions that change everything a person knows. Minds were a powerful tool that could hurt everyone in its path.

You lived it.

You were still living it.

But like any great thing, sometimes starting over is the best way to go. Sometimes, opening your heart back up is the only thing you can do to move on.

Those same brown eyes you fell in love with peered down at yours, and for once in the past three years, you finally felt at peace. You were good enough. You always had been.

And Bradley Bradshaw was a good man. A great man, even. But even great men can fall short. Even great men can make mistakes. It takes an even greater person to face those mistakes head-on, and an equally great person to forgive and continue on loving, even if they never stopped, to begin with.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x male reader #bradley bradshaw x gn!reader #bradley x you #bradley bradshaw x you #fanfiction #tgm #tgm imagine #tgm x reader #rooster #top gun rooster #rooster x reader #robert bob floyd #top gun hangman #top gun phoenix #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick x reader #dagger squad #dagger squad x reader #miles teller #rooster bradshaw #top gun fanfiction

[starsarefire824]

Fic Recs

In honor of things being shitty in the tag right now and everyone in their depression era, I'm offering a few fic recs in these trying times. Hope you discover something new, friends. 🖤

the comforts that make us feel numb by passerine_in_jade.

“No, but really. If I were a girl,” Mike presses on, looking up at Will with red-rimmed eyes through dark lashes. Leaning in. Somehow, fully unaware that this line of questioning has Will's heart climbing up to his throat. “Would you want to kiss me?”

or, Will and Mike get high in the desert.

Well written, almost dreamy quality to it. Author to watch for me! Can't believe I only just discovered their writing.

A Wish For Something More by @waroftheposes

Seven year old Will didn't have a problem with kissing his best friend on a dare. Seventeen year old Will, however, would not do it if someone held his hand over a fire.

Or: Truth or dare at seven and truth or dare at seventeen.

They're silly and sweet and oh so confused. The writing is lovely as well. Great if you're in the mood for fluff.

On the Same Frequency by @oldfashionedmorphine

Ever since his best friend Will Byers was murdered back in 1985, Mike Wheeler wanted nothing more than to leave his hometown of Hawkins, Indiana and never look back—only each and every year he’s forced to make an exception when it comes to the holidays. And when Mike visits for Christmas in 1995, his mom asks him to help clear out some junk in his room and down in the basement before he returns home to Indianapolis. But when he comes across an old trunk containing his Supercom walkie-talkie and ham radio, he discovers something strange that has the potential to change everything…

(or an AU inspired by the movie “Frequency” from 2000)

I'm only just starting this, but Frequency au?? Hell yes.

Fleeting by olliecoddle. @souverian-are-we

Mike liked Will’s art shows, albeit slightly less the higher class they had gotten. Little paintings in the corner of a cafe morphed into white walls and rich spectators poised with champagne and well-mannered criticism. Still, he had been looking forward to it. He wanted to go. But now, walking up to the glass doors, he had to admit he felt jittery.

or, Will's new paintings are a little too personal

This is one of my absolute favorites ever. The writing of course, it's ollie. But the descriptions, the entire buildup of Mike's reaction in the art gallery, the content of the painting? The entire concept is beautiful. And be sure to look up the painting Will's was inspired by. It will tell you everything.

any semblance of touch by anonymous.

“Nothing,” Will says, right into Mike’s ear. “Still feeling good?”

So good. Mike makes sure to not say it aloud this time. “I think,” Mike says slowly, heart pounding, “I need” — Will pulls back just a little, just enough for their noses to bump against each other, clumsy, and Mike bites the bullet — “one more.”

Will is still in Mike’s lap, which is maybe not very platonic of him, and the joint has smoldered its way down to the end, nearly over, all eaten up by the fire. Will swallows thickly, then leans closer, a perfect imitation of their positions from earlier. Mike isn’t sure how long it’s been, but fire has been eating away at him too, this whole time, leaving him on the brink of going up in smoke, slow and burning and so good.“Yeah?” Will murmurs, realization dawning on him, eyes wide. “One more?”

or: Mike’s still new to this whole smoking thing. Will has a few ideas.

Utterly depressing this is anonymous because the writing is phenomenal. So alive and vivid. Not sure where this fic was hiding, but I'm glad I found it. Highlights: Mike’s inner dialogue, the playfulness between them, the lowered inhibitions finally letting them relax into the moment.

nosebleeds from epiphanies (i took full in the face) by wheelersboy @karenchildress.

Hawkins, Montana, June 1988. When Lonnie Byers catches his youngest son in the arms of another boy, he calls in that favor owed to him by rancher Jim Hopper in Lenora: Will must work as an unpaid ranch hand and learn to "man up." Mike Wheeler follows him to the creepy ranch with electrical problems, like any best friend would.

jo's writing is always fantastic. she has such a unique voice and mike's struggle in this just does things for me.

When The Sun Runs Out by olliecoddle @souverian-are-we

On a dreary day in March, 1989 the population of Hawkins, Indiana dropped to four. Will Byers watched as the final family left, the bed of their truck packed to the brim and tied down with a tarp. Furniture stuck out at odd angles, and the corner flap flailed in the breeze as they turned onto the highway. Will followed the vehicle with his eyes until it disappeared as a dot on the long stretch of pavement. Then, he got in his car and went home.

Or, Will is burning out, and Mike is mesmerized by the flame.

This was sexy as hell and all I'm gonna say is tattoos. I really enjoyed this little rougher around the edges, let down by life, closed off Will after being left in Hawkins alone with El, Hopper, and Joyce to wait for the end of the world that never seems to come.

dirty rain by henrycreel

mike wheeler is an average alpha teenage boy working on keeping tight control of his raging hormones in the wake of being seventeen years old, unmated, and a virgin who's never spent his rut with anyone before. when one of his teachers makes an innocent request of him, he finds himself spiraling almost right away. the omega sitting next to him in class is going to be his omega one way or another even if it means employing some traditional and unconventional means to show him who he belongs to.

will byers is an omega with a tendency toward anxiety and outright fear, marked by years of abuse at the hands of his father. high school should be a chance to open a new chapter for himself, but he only truly finds comfort sitting next to mike, an alpha whose presence seems to keep the usual mocking and bullying at bay. but when mike starts to cross the line from friendly classmate into so much more, will has no time to decide if he's ready to move on to a relationship of his own, to finding a mate to settle down with like his big brother already has.

mike is making the decision for both of them.

A solid Omegaverse fic! <3

#byler #fic recs #byler fic #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #if you are not @ here would like to be just dm me!

[xiao-come-home]

hiiii!!!! if you’re comfortable with it, do you think you could do sum hurt/comfort hcs about getting into an argument with itto, and the aftermath? maybe he says something he doesn’t really mean and feels awful about it or something? my brains just been buzzing w this scenario and so i’m curious on what you think :)) thank you so much, i love your work btw :)

hurt/comfort meaning my worst fear but i tried my best pensive emoji :(

Arataki Itto:

it's quite unusual for itto to feel genuine anger or even worse, say things in the heat of the moment because of it - things that he's had in the back of his mind, that were never supposed to be said out loud.

it truly has to be a day, when everything goes wrong - whether it's actual trouble or a fight with his gang members - itto would never lash out purposely or take his anger out on you, but when you scolded him for his childishness that day, it broke camels back.

itto stopped as soon as he saw you tear up and wipe your eyes; his breath hitched in his throat, the look of regret on his face took over and suddenly - no words could go past his lips, despite his mind spinning and trying so desperately to find something.

for the next few days, itto is nowhere to be seen - neither alone, or with his gang - he's actually silently processing past events at grandma oni's home. the scarlet eyes stare at the floor helplessly, switching between determination, wanting to do something to make it up to you, and sorrow - the thoughts whispering that you won't forgive him anymore; the guilt of bringing up your worst insecurity weighed on his shoulders more day by day, forcing his eyes to tear for hours - only to harshly scold himself and thinking how undeserving he is for crying, when it was you who truly got hurt.

the moment Grandma Oni asked itto what happened - itto told her everything, but declined her help; it was his responsibility to fix this, and finally, finally - he felt the strength to do it. the same day, Arataki Itto ran past the city to complete the first mission of his "Please, I'm begging you to forgive me sugarplum" plan.

He spent an entire day making the most beautiful bouquet of flowers that he laid his eyes on - dendrobium, sea ganoderma, fluorescent flowers he found on the way, hell, on his way back he probably got scammed by a fontainian merchant for rainbow roses with his few mora left. also, probably got slightly hurt by specters while collecting sango pearls to use it as finishing looks for some flowers.

what's next? a letter! except it's a letter from itto, and wording what he truly feels is worse than getting beaten up by kairagi. it's actually worse than climbing up inazuman hills and fighting whoever "wanted to take his flowers because he was first." either way, after spending hours, itto wrapped the letter in an envelope, careful not to tear the paper with his long nails.

since he had the spare key, he decided to bake you a cake at your place while you're at work. you can probably guess, we're about to witness a disaster.

is itto good at cooking? mm, yes, but baking... is a different story. let's say, at least you're impressed at how much you can mess up a cake, after seeing a green blob on a baking tray and depressed itto crying into your wooden table.

"m' sorry sunshine, i tried, i really really tried, but the greatest arataki itto has been defeated by a cake. A CAKE!" itto sobbed, "after all my hard work! listen, maybe i added too much flour and i almost grilled the onikabuto i caught for you, and the cinnamon that spilled in the bowl was a liiiiitle bit too much, but-"

before he could continue, you made a decision to cut his rambling short with a kiss.

after you pulled away, he cupped your cheeks and nuzzled his forehead into yours; "im sorry sugar. i really am, i-" itto let out a sigh, "i shouldn't have said that. i don't mean it. i didn't mean it. i was frustrated, but it was wrong of me to take it out on you."

the oni was prepared to hear rejection, but feeling you embrace him, he hugged the life out of you back, placing small kisses on your shoulder and twirling you in the air, before yelping and falling on the floor from his injuries.

well, at least you liked the flowers.

please treat his injuries with cute bandaids.

#might be rough bc first thing i wrote in a while but i hope its ok </3 #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #arataki itto x reader #arataki itto #.headcanon #clearing my ask box so i can take new reqs woohoo

[obeymycok]

MC’s Demon Form

I mentioned making something like this in my Pact Headcanons Pt.2 where the brothers react to finding out there’s a little more to the pact than they realize👀. It happens when they come to the human world with Diavolo and Barbatos to check on MC’s progress as a sorcerer under Solomon. Completed parts will be linked under the brother’s name.

Completed: Lucifer Mammon Leviathan Satan Asmodeus Beelzebub Belphegor

Taglist: @trashlord-007  @waldeinsamkeit600

365 days

52 weeks

12 months

A whole year

     No way of saying it made the brothers less sad about MC’s departure from the devildom. It was difficult but everyone had agreed, MC included, that they weren’t living up to their magic potential in such a different environment than they were used to. Also, they didn’t really need to use their pacts if they were always surrounded by the brothers, the demon king, his all-powerful butler, 2 angels, and the most powerful sorcerer in history. So, MC and Solomon had decided to return to the human world for a year to improve MC’s magic and experiment with their new power.

     Simeon and Luke had gone with them to ensure a hidden and safe training arena sealed with holy magic to prevent sustaining injuries. Diavolo and Barbatos would make weekly visits to check on MC’s progress. But the brothers were NOT under any circumstances, allowed in the human realm unless MC fully summoned them. The biggest reason MC left was because the brothers were too clingy the close proximity they constantly had with all their pacts could’ve very well been what prevented their powers from striving to develop.

     Obviously, this didn’t go over well with most of the brothers; but they did eventually see that it would be only beneficial to MC. The goodbye was full of tears from everyone; even Lucifer let a single tear slip when he thought no one was watching (you were :))) And so began the depression in the House of Lamentation

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

“Rise and shine everyone! Today’s THE DAAAY!” Mammon shouted as he sprinted through the hallways, banging on all his brothers’ doors. 

     Normally, everyone would be fuming; but today was special. Beel was already awake in the kitchen making breakfast, accompanied by Lucifer who made sure he didn’t snack too much. Everyone else was quickly out of their rooms and helping in the kitchen to finish up breakfast. Yes, even Belphie was awake. Arguments were kept to a minimal and everyone was actually out the door on time. Only one thing could make the seven lords of hell get along like best friends and to work towards a common goal; you.

“My, what a surprise! You’re all half an hour early!” Diavolo exclaimed in his usual, joyful tone.

“Indeed, this is a surprise, Lucifer.” Barbatos agreed as he finished pouring Diavolo and the others some tea. Lucifer let out a small laugh in agreement as he took a sip, trying to hide his jittery fingers. Luckily, Mammon and Asmo were quick to draw attention.

“Why’d we have to meet at the castle first? And what’s with not updating us about MC’s training!? As their first man, I should’ve been the one to supervise.”

“As much as I hate to, I have to agree with Mammon. I miss our darling MC just so much I can’t stand it another second!”

“Asmo, Mammon, please...” Lucifer sighed again, this time in exhaustion.

“Actually, we figured it’d be best for you to see for yourself.” Diavolo stated with a proud smile.

“MC’s power has far surpassed what we even thought was possible. Maybe it’s because they’re the only one to form a pact with all seven of you, because they’re a descendant of Lilith, or both, we don’t know for sure...” Barbatos spoke, basking in the expectant and pleading expressions. “...but they’ve truly become a force to be reckoned with.”

     The air in the room changed, but not necessarily to something bad. Confusion is mainly what overtook the brothers. Some were also excited, some were nervous, some concerned; but most of all, they just HAD to see what their fragile MC had achieved in such a short time.

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

“I’m nervous, Solomon.” you stated quietly as you both walked through the battlefield. The arena had changed to look like a forest while you and Solomon were to make your way to the finish line. Of course, the place was littered with devildom creatures; but that wasn’t your main concern. “I don’t know, what if they freak out? What if they get upset we didn’t tell them sooner?”

“You seem to keep forgetting that you had no say in that; not even Barbatos expected this to happen. Plus, Diavolo and I were the ones that agreed it would be best to keep this from them until we figured out the full effects of your power.” Solomon replied in his usual matter-of-fact tone.

     Still, you felt a bit unsure of their reactions. It wasn’t until Solomon had yanked you behind a tree, just barely missing a beam of magic, that you snapped back into your own head. The beast was about 10 feet tall and stood on two legs. Its jagged teeth protruded past its lips as it snarled, blood and drool dripping down.

“Well, no sense worrying about them now when we have one of these to deal with.” Solomon whispered with a hint of a chuckle as he smiled at you. You returned the gesture with a smirk and a single nod.

“Let’s fuck him up.”

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

"Hey, Diavolo? Are you sure this is safe? Some of these look like the monsters we summon for the elite fighters." Poor Beel was very worried. These were the types of monsters his coach would summon when the team wasn't doing their drills fast enough and he knew how strong they were.

"That's LORD Diavolo, Beelzebub." Lucifer retorted in his usual tone, but everyone could tell he was also worried. "Lord Diavolo wouldn't put the human exchange student in harm's way, especially if Simeon's healing couldn't protect them if something dire were to happen. Isn't that right, Simeon." It was said more like a statement than a question, but Simeon could see the desperation in Lucifer's eyes; begging that you were never in danger.

"That's correct, Lucifer." Simeon answered with a knowing smile.

     Before any of the others had a chance to speak, a Baatezu smashed through the iron gates at the finish line. The brothers all got ready to fight before realizing it was dead.

“MC!!!” Mammon shouted as he sprinted to the fallen beast followed closely by the rest of the brothers. Apparently, too close. Mammon stopped dead in his tracks, feet still sliding over the dirt as his brothers crashed into him at full force. They all got up ready to curse him out, but the sight in front of them quickly shut them up.

There you were, but you looked like..?

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

Aaahh I’m actually so happy with this!! I am actively making the bro’s reactions as this is posted. I finally have a day off work so I’ll try to get everyone done today. Basically it’ll be HC format of how each bro reacts to seeing MC as themselves or another brother. (Bros react to MC in Lucifer’s Form, Mammon’s Form, etc) If you interact with this post and tell me which bro you’d wish to see first, I’ll do that. If not, I’ll just go in order. I’m also starting a taglist so I don’t feel bad about cliff hangers so comment on a post and I’ll add you. Stay tuned, everyone! :)))

Edit: lol motivation said brr so I'll be posting a new brother daily

#OBEY ME #obey me shall we date #obey me worldbuilding #obey me fanfic #obey me headcanons #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke

[glassartpeasants]

Just For A Second

Tomura Shigaraki x F!Reader

Warnings: Self harm, angst, depression, feelings of self hatred, toxic family, mentions of death,

A/N: Sorry if it's short. I was just sad and kinda wanted to get rid of said sadness.

~~~

It hurts. 

In all your years of life, you never thought something could hurt so much.  Especially now. It just felt like you were breaking in two. Knowing that no matter how hard you could try. It would never mean anything in the end. 

Everything seemed so mundane now. Nothing seemed to give you any satisfaction anymore. It felt like the world had turned black and grey. 

Nothing gave you the satisfaction anymore as it once did. You remembered being happy to get up in the morning. Not staying in bed until noon trying to find a reason to get up. 

Not staying up late thinking about all the wrong you’ve done and how you just wished to go back in time and change everything. Maybe your life wouldn’t be such a disaster. 

You remember when you used to love writing, but now it's like a chore every time you do. The happiness that once flowed onto the page gone. Instead, a mind filled with empty thoughts took its place. 

Nothing seemed to be going right. You could feel tears prick your eyes as you sat in your bathtub. Crying and begging to know why you had to feel this way. What had you done to deserve the torture you were enduring? 

You didn’t want to tell anyone. The thought of bothering even more people only made your heart clench harder. Why bother people with your stupid thoughts and words? You didn’t want to drag them down in the bottomless hole you dug yourself in.

“HEY! Hurry up in there! Stop hogging all that hot water!” God, now you’ve made them upset. Why couldn’t you just suck it up and get it over with instead of getting in people's way!

“Yes, I’m sorry!” Getting up out of the tub, you dry yourself off. You get a view of your body as you do, and you can feel your stomach sink. 

God, how you hated your body. 

You knew that other people had it worse than you. You can still hear your mother telling you that no matter how big you are, your beautiful, and that applies to everyone. 

It only you could believe the words your mom had told you. 

Why couldn’t you just look at yourself in the mirror and say positive things about yourself? Instead of everything you hate? Why couldn’t you show yourself love like you’ve seen people do on TV and social media? Why couldn’t you have the love that they had?

You couldn’t bare to look at yourself anymore before you put your clothes on and cleaned up before opening the door and leaving.

“Finally!” The door slammed shut behind the man, and you could feel your heart skip a beat. 

Why did you have to be so sensitive? Why did a small thing such as a slamming door place such an icky feeling in your chest? You just wanted to get to your room and lie down. 

~~~

You wake up to text messages from the family group chat your mom had put you in with you and your brother. 

Reading the text messages, you saw that someone you loved had passed away in their sleep that night. You could feel the tightness in your chest and continued reading the words your mother had sent you. 

Every sentence was more gut-punching than the last. It felt like punch after punch was thrown at you before you simply struggled to continue reading before you read her next text messages.

‘God, I’d wish I die. I wish your piece of shit father dies as well. You always show your love and appreciation for him and hang out with him on every Holiday! Hell, I even have to share mothers day with him!’

You didn’t text back.

What would you say? There was nothing to say when it was always like this. Talking about how much her life sucks, how she wishes she’d died already, and how much disdain she has for your father. 

You know your father hasn’t always been the best. But the thought of even losing one parent, let alone two, is something you just couldn’t get by. 

Why did this always have to happen? All they could ever do was fight and talk about how much they hated one another. It was so exhausting. Hearing hate spew from the mouths of the one that created you. 

You sat in bed and looked up at the ceiling as your phone lay on the nightstand. 

Why couldn’t you just have a happy family like the ones on tv? The ones where they don’t curse each other's existence. One where you could remember a happy childhood without the constant fights, the different houses, and the back of a police car as you were escorted to a house that wasn’t your own. 

All these memories seemed to haunt you daily as the thoughts of what your life could have been drained you.

A knocking at your door brought you back to earth as you allowed them in. 

“Man, you should really clean up your room.”

“Did you come in here just to tell me my room is dirty? If so, leave I wanna sleep.” You say as you turn your back to the man standing behind you.

“Now, calm down, grumpy pants. I just came here to tell you breakfast is ready.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You said that last night. You need to eat to survive, idiot. Now get your ass out of bed before I drag you out.” You hear the door shut as he walks away.  You sigh before sitting up and placing your feet on the cold ground as you walk toward the dining room. 

The sound of laughter echoed through the halls as you walked toward the open area. 

“Morning, sleepy head! Lazy ass!” Well, that was one way to get you back to sleep and never leave your room.

“Here you go (Y/N)! Can you believe how much food we raided from that small grocery store!” Happiness shown on her face made a smile crawl on yours. Her smile was infectious despite there being no ill intent behind it. It gave you a small sense of jealousy. 

Why couldn’t you be as happy as her? 

~~~

You were told to stand guard as the group gathered supplies. It was an easy job looking at it. But something inside you told you that you only got this part because they didn’t think you could do the other stuff. 

“No. I’m good at what I do. I like this job, and they know I can do anything else.” You tried to convince yourself. You were fighting with yourself eternally before a familiar feminine voice rang through your ears.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here? This is a bad part of town; you shouldn’t be here! Don’t you know how reckless your being?!” The sound of your mother's condescending voice rang through the alley.

“I’m fine. What do you need?”

“Well, since you know, it’s my duty as a hero to ensure everything stays well in my community.” 

“Okay, then, I guess.”

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, and this is all you have to say to me?”

“Can we please not start this now? You first told me how I was reckless being in this part of town without even asking why I was here.”

“Well, I’m sorry. Guess I'm just a bad mom for worrying that you’ll turn out like your father. Being in this part of town is just too suspicious (Y/N)!”

“Woooowwww. Love how this is going. Can we please not do this? I don’t have the energy to butt heads with you. Just let me do my thing, and you do yours.”

“You were always like this! Why can’t you be more like your brother? He stays on the good side of town and has a road to success painted for him!”

“You mean the same brother I’ve seen around here many times asking for drugs 'cause he can’t handle the pressure you're pushing on him?”

“God, why are you always so defiant? Always acting like I’m such a terrible mother!”

“THAT'S BECAUSE YOU ARE ONE!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me, young lady! I’ve put a roof over your heads and given you food to eat!”

“Yeah, the bare minimum! That's literally what parents are supposed to do for their children!”

“Your such an ungrateful brat! You're just like your father!”

“You know what? This conversation is done. Get out of here and leave me alone. I’ve got better ways to ruin my day than to talk to you.”

“Your such a horrible daughter. Sometimes I wonder why I ever should have kept you.” Your mother turned her head before stomping away, leaving you alone. You can feel hot tears start to stream down your face as you try to gather yourself to look okay in front of everyone. 

You didn’t want to bother them with your petty troubles.

~~~

All you could do was look at your sketchbooks as pages and pages were filled with colorful and lively pictures, but now, it’s just like everything you made seemed to be dull and void of life. All the faces in your drawings expressed such sadness that you didn’t even realize you put on them. 

You tried drawing, but as soon as you laid your pencil down, all your inspiration went out the window. Your body once again filled with just a numb feeling as you looked at the blank page in front of you. 

You didn’t notice you were crying until a tear landed on the paper. 

Your mother always said that only babies cry. Telling you how weak you were every time a tear threatened to spill from your cheeks. 

God, you felt so helpless. What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you do such a simple thing as drawing? You tried to write earlier, but you simply couldn’t put anything down. It was like all the happiness had been sucked out of your body. 

You let go of the book before hugging yourself as tears stained your cheeks. Your father would have called you pitiful for simply crying over a little feeling, making you feel ten times shittier. 

You could feel the scabs on your arms get caught on your shirt sleeves, making you wince in pain. All you could do was look at the healing cuts before starting to pick at them. Just wanting to feel something other than numb.

The blood drained from each scab was enough to think they were fresh. The smell of iron filled your nose as you got up from bed and walked quietly towards the door. You didn’t want anyone to see. You just needed to clean them off and bandage them before you hid them with your sleeves again.

You opened the door and were met to face your boss standing in front of it with his fist in the motion of knocking on it.

“Dinners ready-” You saw him looking down at your arms, which you quickly hid behind your back. As you tried to run away from him only to have his hand hold your bicep and pull you towards him as he looked at the cuts.

“These are gonna get infected, idiot.” He then dragged you towards the bathroom, where he sat you down on the tub's rim and closed the door. Locking it as well.

“What are-”

“Shush.”

“...” You could see him grab hydrogen peroxide and bandages before heading towards you.

“Hold out your arms.” You did what he asked before you felt his rough hands gently grab your arms.

“This will hurt, so don’t freak out, got it? I can kill you if you're not careful.”

“Understood.” He nodded at you before slowly pouring it into your arms. Bubbles started to fizz along the cuts as you held back tears from the pain. The feeling soon turned into just a barely noticeable stinging. 

He cleaned your wounds before carefully putting bandages along your arms so as not to wrap them too tight and irritate your skin too much.

“I-...Thank you, Shigaraki.” He didn’t say anything as he held your arms in his hands. You didn’t know what he was thinking at the moment, but you could feel tears form in your eyes. 

God, you were so pathetic. Crying over someone cleaning your wounds and then not answering you? Why were you such a crybaby? Crying over something so stupid. God, your so so stupid.

“Don’t touch them. I have something I need to attend to.” Without another word, he got up, walked out the bathroom door, and left you sitting there, still having tears rolling down your face.

‘I’m such a fucking idiot. Why did I think he was doing it? Probably, so his only healer isn’t out of the game.’ You cry and hide your bandages as you go back to your room. You just wanted to cry and wish that you were somewhere else. Somewhere far away where you could feel happiness.

Even if it’s just for a second. Was that too much to ask?

#tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shiragaki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #mha shigaraki #tomura x reader #mha #bnha #cw sh #cw bl00d #cw depressive thoughts

[eagle-eyes-sideblog]

That Medical Anomaly

Summary

An AU where the reader is the subject of a secretive experiment that leaves them the perfect Player... among other things.

Possible triggering themes for this AU/story include medical trauma, descriptions of chronic illness, ableism, depression, and death. If I've handled anything insensitively, please let me know.

A more 'formal' introduction, along with rambling about my thought process, under the cut.

Self Aware MadCom belongs to @saltymongoose. The concept is really interesting to me, even aside from the xreader stuff (although it's definitely also that lmao). So I thought I might explore that a bit with a concept that's already been floating around my head for a bit. The world that the reader is from is deliberately left a bit vague, but it's sort of magical realism. Most relevant to this AU: there are things like doctors and computers existing alongside curses and other magical ailments.

Also, this doesn't really include much MadCom or SAMAU... Well, no interactions with the characters, anyways. It's mostly just an introduction to my ideas for this AU, so it describes more of what your life was like beforehand and how you found the series. Do also note that I've never played either M:PN game, so there might be some inaccuracies.

All that being said... enjoy!

~~~

You, along with several others, were the subject of an experiment when you were a teenager. It was so secretive, you were never even given the details of why it had been conducted. That, or you had forgotten, given that one of the major side effects of the experiment was memory loss.

The experiment itself was something about deliberately letting specific kinds of contagions into the subject's body. You knew a few of them were fungal, and many were magical in some way, although they were different for every experiment.

Apparently if they chose the right infections for the right subject and 'balanced' them properly with the individual's immune system... they would stabilize. This led to the subject gaining supernatural abilities based on whatever magical infections they had.

Of course, most of the subjects weren't so lucky. The various infections would usually just take their courses; often the combinations would very quickly kill the subject. Those that survived were left with permanent problems ranging from aphasia to compromised immune systems to seizures.

You were their star subject, the one better off than all the rest. The staff made sure to remind you of that every time you complained about anything. "Be grateful," they told you. "At least you can still speak. At least you're still recovering. At least you're still alive." They never said it out loud, but you heard the implication. All of this is only happening because of us.

Bullshit. You were only 'better off' because of sheer dumb luck. Had they succeeded? Maybe. But their idea of success didn't even take you into account.

And their idea of success still left you with problems. Yes, you have sharper senses now, and you can draw energy from more than just food. But you're face-blind, and your hands and feet are numb, and you sometimes hurt so badly that you can't walk.

Not to mention how unethical the experiment itself was. They didn't even study people who already had these conditions; they deliberately induced them. Hell, one of your roommates was six years old! Why they let her participate still bothered you today.

...But it wasn't all bad. You cherished the friends you'd made there, even if you'd lost contact with most of them.

Not just your fellow patients, either. Most of the staff were... annoying at the very least. But a few seemed to actually have your best interests in mind. For example, your favorite nurse, Max, recommended an animated series that might help take your mind off of things when you were in the depths of depression.

You very quickly fell in love with Madness Combat. The simple graphics, where characters were denoted by outfit and style rather than facial features, seemed perfect for you. You grew to adore Hank, Deimos, Sanford, Tricky, and every other character, getting invested in their fights even when nothing else made you happy.

And the episodes were just plain fun to watch. Even when you had issues with your memory, the fight scenes interested you more than enough to make up for it. The community, too, seemed to welcome you, and you came to cherish the friends you made there.

Not only that, but you found a little game on Newgrounds. Although your numb hands made it hard to play, it really did capture the things that made you adore Madcom to begin with. Your favorite nurse approved too; after all, it was an exercise in hand-eye coordination!

Naturally, you were beyond thrilled when Project Nexus came out. By that point, you'd already left the facility. And your memory had recovered enough to get well and truly obsessed with the lore.

You smiled, picking the Tourist difficulty and sitting back to watch the intro cinematic. This was going to be fun.

(Unbeknownst to you, it would also be much, much more than you bargained for.)

#reader insert #self aware m:pn au #that medical anomaly au #eagle eyed writing #madness combat x reader #do i dare maintag this #no probably not #btw name is taken from the medical anomaly #by really introverted producer (r.i.p) #it may change!! that song is just very good #i have more thoughts on this au but im eepy and shall go to bed now #samau

[fuckknowledgeandideas]

BTW i have been listening to the everything everything song u replied to my ask w AND ITS SOOOOOOOOO FAUCKING GOOOOOOOD

HELL YES I'M SO GLAD.... Everything Everything my favorite band of the world....

ALSO I'll derail this ask (sorry! you fell into my music trap) to make recommendations on how to get into their stuff since they have quite a few albums now ^-^ I'll go in order of most accessible album to least :

Get To Heaven : Their best album and probably their most well known one.. I started with this one so of course I am biased BUT. it is the most consistent one in terms of song quality in my opinion. It has a lot of very abrasive sounds, prominent bass (for the bassheads in the crowd <3), same with the drums, the singer makes a lot of funny sounds like eehee and ahaaa! and ooh!!, it's a good time. Notable songs (by that I mean my favorites) : (Well the thing is. The entirety is good. Just don't listen to No Reptiles it's stupid. HOWEVER,) Regret, Spring/Sun/Winter/Dread, Blast Doors, Hapsburg Lippp and Only As Good As My God are my big preferences in there. If you like quieter song listen to the others in priority I'd say. OH OH AND WHEEL. You should check The Wheel, see if it's turning now etc BONUS : BANGING CONCERT with BANGING RECORDING HERE https://youtu.be/qYAFCVlLWIk as a wise man once said : "I hope they got some nasty fucking sloppy after this sessio,n"

Man Alive : Baby's very first album!! This one I would say is quite depressing but quite catchy as well.. Half of the songs in there are a bit too empty to my personal taste BUUUUT the other half has a talent to make me writhe and cry on the flour. Augh. The sounds are lighter in this one but our good friend mister Johnathan Every love to yell so much it compensates largely. Notable songs : MY KZ UR BF, Qwerty Finger, Schoolin', Photoshop Handsome, Suffragette Suffragette, Come Alive Diana, and from the deluxe version I would say the most important ones to check out are DNA Dump and Wizard Talk BONUS : They collaborated with an ensemble for a concert check it out definitely they're so small in it and they are having so much fun and and there is a brass section it is so charming https://youtu.be/oCH_YGD7oDc AND you should check the demo of MY KZ UR BF. It makes me SAD! https://youtu.be/VaoHgQts5ek The roughness of it only conveys the message of it better and they have chimes in it. It's GOOD.

Raw Data Feel : Most recent released album, and it's about how we love phone more than god. Kind of. I'd describe this one as having a very dreamlike quality. It talks about apocalypse and robots and computers and how they are "terrifying and a bit sexy". They really said that. I wouldn't say it sounds more electronic than the others but it has a "blurred" artificial layer to it that makes it very unique. OH AND they did something cool with ai stuff before everyone else so props to them for that. Notable songs : Bad Friday, Pizza Boy, Metroland Is Burning, Leviathan and HEX. MY GOD LISTEN TO HEX. IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD.

Arc : A mixed bag of mehh songs and really REALLY STRONG ONES. Maybe the most sadness inducing album of theirs. It REEKS of despair. Badly. I'm saying that as a good thing. Album that feels like the dusty attic of deceased loved ones on a cold spring morning.. Notable songs : Cough Cough, Torso Of The Week, Choice Mountain, Undrowned, Radiant LISTEN TO RADIANT GOD. If you like those check Kemosabe, No Plan and Justice too. I like these very much.

A Fever Dream : ARGUABLY THEIR WORSE ALBUM. It's very quiet and empty except for a few tunes. I do think it has a very particular atmosphere that I personally ended up warming up to. Don't look up the meanings for the lyrics it's all kind of boring I think you should think about characters instead. Notable songs : Night Of The Long Knives, Desire, Good Shot Good Soldier, Run The Numbers. <- The most impactful songs to me. White Whale makes me very sad if I think about it too. Wahh

RE-ANIMATOR : It's fine. I don't have very strong opinions on this one. It has some really good songs in it. I think the thing with this one is the lyrics are a lot simpler than the others and I like the weirdness better. But it still is worth checking out those guys know how to make music. Notable songs : Big Climb, Planets, Black Hyena, Violent Sun. BONUS : They released SUPERNORMAL as a single around the time of that album and it's better than a good portions of the songs in it so check it out lol. The other single released for this album is the worst song they ever made don't worry about it.

BONUS OF BONUS : There's a playlist of a bunch of unreleased/demos/B-sides on youube if you are really motivated to check many things, some of them were in the Man Alive deluxe version though. https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLYCuy2Tpolc8GY7GQYX5_uYdgYpftKQ7V

Uhh I might have forgotten things but. If you don't know them that's a starting point that you can bounce off of. Have fun with tunes yayy <3

#My talk #SORRY WES you just got music'd #Everything Everything #<- Tagging in case someone wants to show this to recommend the band to anyone else #Everything Everything Band #e_e #Have a nice day (turns into a pile of dust

[rorywritesjunk]

For these foamy green hills are but saltwater desert

Richie, Mohji’s lion, isn’t doing so well. The crew end up at a small island with a dwindling population to seek help and Buggy meets Midori, the mayor who is far more stubborn and trusting with his crew than he can really comprehend.

Rating: PG-13, gonna have smut at some point later though. Warnings: Buggy being obnoxious, of course. I’d call this a fast paced slow burn. It takes the place over the course of the week and days are split into two chapters. There’s also some drama and other pirates. A/N: Full confession. I honestly wrote this because I have been watching the anime and Richie is one of the best characters. Do I know a lot about the anime? No. Is some of this chaotic and characters OOC? Of course! It’s a fanfic. Is it self indulgent? Hell yes. I had fun writing this and wanted to share it. Also, I wrote this more with anime!Buggy in mind since we don’t get to see Richie in the live action. Additional Note: I neglected this story! I didn't mean to as I got busy with the Kid Buggy fic and some one shots. This story is mostly finished, I just have to get it posted. I also have a meme I want to make for this as well which may come later.

Title comes from the song “Dryad’s Promise” by Tricky Pixie.

Chapter 5

Day 3 pt 1

Buggy had his arms crossed as he walked through the small town. There was a little store and bar, and those were the only two businesses operating. The rest of the buildings were boarded shut, some with signs saying they would re-open in some other town on another island. It was a bit depressing to see. This place wouldn't be worth destroying at all in the end.

He was on his own until lunch. Midori had business to attend to that involved being the mayor, and he didn't really want to tag along for those errands. It sounded boring, so he decided to explore some more.

Except he walked down the main street in about five minutes before arriving at another farm. How could anyone live in a place this small? You'd see the same thing daily, no doubt have the same conversations, and see the same people.

This place was kind of like living on a ship, but at least he got to see different places.

 Buggy paused as he stopped at the bottom of the road leading up to the farm house. The grass was overgrown, there were no animals, and the windows were broken out. The island was dying. There would be no one left but Midori in the end and for some reason that was upsetting to him. How could she be stubborn and say she would be the last one? Why wouldn't she leave when the others left, or even leave before them? Why stick around with that blind stubbornness that she had?

Maybe…

He shook his head. He wasn't going to ask her to come with, even if it was to drop her off at the next island. If she wanted to stay then she could stay. No matter what he said to her she wouldn't budge. It was only the third day with her and he already felt himself age years just from arguing with her. 

He sighed and started back up the road to the little downtown area, stopping when he saw Midori leave the little store. She looked upset and he frowned. That didn't seem right. Without warning he stormed up to her.

"What's wrong?!" He demanded, catching her off guard. She wiped her eyes.

"Uh, nothing." She told him as she forced a smile. "Nothing's wrong, Buggy."

He glared at her and crossed his arms. "Liar. What happened?"

"It was nothing, Buggy, really." She insisted as she tried to push past him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. She sighed and looked up at him, her voice tired. "What?"

"Tell me what happened. I'll teach'em a lesson." He said, turning his attention to the little store. If they offended her or hurt her, he'd be happy to go in and have a polite conversation with them. 

She put her hand on his chest, pushing him back gently. He looked back at her, the urge to fight whoever wronged her still there. Midori gave him a sad smile. "Come on, Captain, let's go for a walk."

He grumbled, kicked a rock at the door, and allowed her to lead him down the road he just came from. They walked past the abandoned farmhouse and down a bit further, leading to the shore. Damn, this island was so small. 

"I was just informed by the older couple who run the store that they are leaving." She told him as she kicked her boots off and stuck her feet into the sand. "And with that happening… everyone else will follow because it was just a matter of time."

Buggy watched her carefully. She sank down to the ground and covered her face. He scratched his cheek and shrugged. "Well, maybe…"

"If you suggest I leave I'll punch you in the back of the knee, Buggy." She mumbled from behind her hands. "I… don't want to hear it. I just need to be sad for a bit."

"I was going to suggest something else!" He shot back, but he forced himself to breathe for a moment before continuing. "I was going to suggest reaching out to other islands, post about home availability, maybe people would move out here." He clenched his teeth. "Maybe the Marines would build a base here. That would help."

She sniffed and looked up at him as tears started to roll down her cheeks. "Maybe. Maybe that can happen."

"Don't cry over something you can't control." He sighed. "It's dumb." He backtracked when she made a face. "I'm not saying you're dumb! Just everything else! The only thing that's dumb is your big heart for this place!"

She giggled softly as the tears fell. "You're bad at this, Buggy. Haven't you ever comforted someone before?"

He grumbled and looked away from her, cheeks pink from the frustration over this interaction. "I'm not trying to comfort you."

Midori clenched her fist and reached up, gently bumping his knee with her fist. "Thanks, that was apparent."

"Yea, well… don't cry when we walk back home because people may think I made you cry." He grumbled. "I don't need them chasing us outta here yet."

"I won't let that happen." She promised. 

~

When Buggy came into the kitchen for lunch, he stopped when he saw Midori sitting at the table, staring out the window that faced the water. His ship was out there, anchored and tied to the docks. In a few days he would be leaving with the crew and putting this place behind them, hopefully forgetting their time here. Buggy didn’t want to dwell on nostalgia.

Midori didn’t seem to realize he was there. She let out a few sniffles occasionally, wiping away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. Was she still crying over the news from this morning, or was it something different? He cleared his throat and she frantically wiped at her cheeks using her sleeve before turning to face him, her face lighting up. He tried not to look her in the eyes right then, not wanting to see the sadness that was still there. 

“Hey!” She said as she pushed her chair away from the table. “Sorry, I didn’t get started on lunch yet. Got a little distracted.” She chuckled softly as she went to the counter, grabbing some different fruits to cut up. “How about a fruit plate with some cheese? Something simple.”

He sighed in frustration before stomping over to her, catching her surprise as he trapped her between his arms as he looked down at her, his hands resting on the counter. She was smiling but it wasn’t the one he was used to seeing, the one he had started to look forward to over the short time they’ve known each other. With a huff, he raised his hand up, thumb brushing away her tears.

“What’s got you crying now?” He asked quietly, tone far more gentle than she had been expecting. “If it’s that old couple, I’ll go have a word with them.”

Midori’s heart jumped into her throat at how close he was. She tried to shrink back against the counter, to put distance between them, but he was right there and so close to her that she almost thought it was fear she felt, just for a moment, but he did nothing to scare her. Her heart was pounding at his touch and her throat went dry. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t, instead snapping her mouth shut before looking down, not meeting his gaze.

Buggy didn’t like being ignored. Both hands cupped her cheeks, lifting her head back up to look at him as he glared down at her. “Tell me what’s wrong!”

Without hesitation, Midori placed both of her hands on his as fresh tears started rolling down her cheek, wailing, “Everyone wants to leave, Buggy!” 

Oh, shit. He didn’t expect the waterworks. He dropped his hands and she let go of him, now wiping at her eyes as she cried. Panic started to hit him. He didn’t know what to do. She was actually crying in front of him and it wasn’t his fault. 

She sank to the floor, sobbing, and he looked for a tea towel or something to dry her eyes. He didn’t want her to cry, he wanted to see her smile, but he didn’t know what to do or say to do that, to get her to stop crying. He finally found a tea towel and knelt down in front of her, holding it out. “Please don’t.”

Midori took it from him, sniffling loudly as she wiped her eyes. “W-What?”

“I… don’t want to see you crying.” He said as his face started to turn red. “I’d rather see you smile. Please?”

“B-Buggy, everyone’s going t-to leave.” She told him, hiccuping. “With the shopkeepers leaving, we drop down more… and… and an hour ago the rest of them came and spoke to me… they’re leaving when the others go.” Fresh tears came to her eyes. “They’re leaving next week. A ship will come and collect them, the ship that would bring us our goods and supplies. They’re going to go on that ship and I’ll be here, alone.” Midori gripped the tea towel and pressed it against her eyes as she cried. “I’m the last one here, Buggy!”

Oh, he didn’t want to see her cry. He didn’t want to hear the heartbreak in her voice, see her tears rolling down her cheeks. He didn’t know what to do or say to make her feel better. Maybe he just needed to let her cry it out, get it out of her system for a few minutes before moving on. Maybe this would be a wake up call for her, that staying behind after everyone else left would be foolish. Maybe, just maybe, he could suggest she come aboard his ship, join his crew, maybe help Mohji look after Richie since the lion has taken a liking to her. She could stay in Buggy’s room, his bed was big enough to share; she didn’t need to be around the rest of the crew all of the time.

He wanted to suggest that, and he started to open his mouth to do so, but she let out a heavy sigh, sniffled, and looked back up at him with watery eyes.

“Thank you for listening.” She told him. “I… I needed that, thank you.”

He snapped his mouth shut and nodded. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything to her at all then.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown #buggy opla #opla buggy x you #opla buggy the clown x you

[padfootastic]

Hey padfootastic,

Was scrolling through hp posts and saw a post where people were fighting over Remus situation. So just wanted to know your opinion bout it. Do you think Remus could have done better in PoA? He was a professor, responsible for the safety of others.

No matter how much I love Sirius but at that time he wasn't innocent in others mind, so hiding a big detail that could have affected the whole situation, hell, had Sirius really had been behind harry, he would have been dead cause our little innocent Remus here thought that it was a good idea to not tell them how Sirius had all the resources at his disposal. How easy it was for him to sneak into Hogwarts and harm harry and others.

It really was dangerous and well indirectly he did prove Snape right no? What do you think could have happened had Remus had guts to tell Dumbledore about Sirius being an animagus?

On the other side, oh man! I can imagine Sirius being all furious and depressed at the same time. He'd need to go for another plan, he'd think that now he won't be able to even see Harry easily and many more difficulties. Ugh

Imagine the angst after after innocence thing, Sirius letting go any single drop of love he might have had for Remus and treating him like a any other person. No different. Remus hating himself more and more and Sirius just. Not. Giving a. Single. eff. About the whole damn thing. I cant-

Please tell me what you think bout the whole situation.

yoooooo

i love this lol people asking me for my remus opinions never gets old bc i have endless salt to provide. i will never not be annoyed by that cretin.

okay so. PoA. i don’t often focus on that part of his whole arc (which is, funnily enough, one of the only concessions to remus’ ‘flaws’ that i’ve seen the remus fans give lol) but it’s honestly so??? like it’s literally one of the best examples we have of how self preservation is literally built into his core. iirc he doesn’t do it bc he’s afraid of how dumbledore would perceive him? doesn’t want him to know how they (he) broke his trust? and he’s willing to damn an entire school of students PLUS his best friends son to an alleged mass murderer for it. he will have that on his conscience rather than self introspection a bit and get thru the hard part.

i’ve seen people call him brave for a variety of reasons which all begin and end w his lycanthropy but i’m gonna be honest, he’s one of the most cowardly characters in the series in my opinion. every single time he has to make an active decision that might compromise his sense of self/perception or even just his peace of mind, he backs off. retreats. runs the fuck away. attacks outward. doesn’t take responsibility.

i think snape was both right, in that remus was helping sirius but wrong, because it wasn’t out of any friendship or responsibility. it was just a way to save face for himself. also probably him not wanting to confront any difficult feelings or memories.

wrt if he had told dumbledore? man idek. i literally can’t imagine it and surprisingly, haven’t read any fics exploring that option either 🤔 sus, that. also very telling lol maybe tightened security? disappointed dumbles? i cant see any major changes tho bc even sirius as a grim was pretty well hidden except maybe anti animagus wards if those r a thing?

also yes!!! i think sirius should be allowed to be angry and disappointed more often. he should be spitting mad about the fact that not only did remus not care a lick about harry, he also gave up so easily on sirius. i think he should be allowed that space.

#remus lupin critical #sirius black #gonna be honest #if i wanted to think too much about remus #and look too deeply into things #psychoanalysing him—as much as u can words on paper—is actually rly fun #like how his sense of self is tied into presenting this decorous version of himself when the monster lurks close underneath #except the monster isn’t even the lycanthropy #it’s just his shitty personality lmao #sorry sorry. ‘difficult’ personality #wrt sirius. #i think. he forgave remus pretty easily in the shack bc there were bigger things at hand #but i have a feeling if he got proper treatment and food and a roof and a decent support system #that’s when he’ll actually be able to process the trauma of his betrayal #esp from the closest quarters #and i include mcg in this btw. #and that’s when he’ll really be able yo read them all to filth #or someone doing it on his behalf (except i can only rly see harry or james doing that. or maaaaybe lily) #but yeah. emotional sirius except done the right way #pen’s asks

[munsonownsmyass]

Michael Kinsella x reader

Authors note: I have been through the emotional ringer lately and after listening to a Hozier song today, I just felt I needed to put this down on paper.

Sometimes life is hard, but it's important not to lose hope.

Thank you to @e-dubbc11 for ensuring me that the first thing I've written in almost two months aren't shit. Love you hun ❤️

Warnings: Angsty, bad self image, a hopeless romantic feeling anything but love, hopeful endings, a smidge of fluff.

Words: 1.1K

I never really thought I was worth anything and so far, life hasn’t really showed me anything to prove me wrong. This is not a sob story where I go into detail about how my parents didn’t have time for me or how I didn’t have any friends growing up. I won’t force you to sit through pages upon pages of me telling you about my countless wrecked relationships, how I’ve been ghosted more than a haunted house or about all the times I’ve thought to myself ‘This is it. I’ve found it.’, just to be proven wrong again. To once again have my heart shattered.

I know deep down that the problem might be me. I mean, all these things do have me in common. Maybe I’m just not worth it? Maybe I should just move to a cabin in the woods, get a bunch of dogs and live happily ever after as an author, alone and content… Given that my books could even sell, that is…

You see, my problem is that I’ve always believed in true love. Happily ever after. That one day I’d look into the eyes of another and find the missing piece of my soul and finally feel like I belong somewhere for the first time in my life. But I’m starting to believe that true love only exists in fairytales and that it’s never going to happen to me. I remain hopeful, but I wouldn’t bet any money on me finding my one true love.

You know that one person you’d want to look at every night before you go to sleep and can’t wait to see again in the morning as the sun shines through the blinds, falling perfectly on their face. Don’t we all want that all-consuming ‘can’t live without each other’ love? I certainly do and I remain hopeful… Or I try to.

Cause what is life without hope? Would it even be worth getting up in the morning? I go to bed some nights not sure if I even want to wake up the next day, but I still wake each morning, lying to myself that it will get better. That today might be the day that everything changes.

Okay, before I start sounding like I’m a depressed little person, I would want to say you’ve caught me at a bad time. Just got ditched again after thinking he was the right guy. I had already started mentally moving into a little cottage where we could grow old together, but alas… I was again proven that some men are just dicks or that I’m the problem… And I really don’t want to think about the last one.

So yes. Right now, I could curse every single man to hell, but who am I kidding? Give me 5 minutes and I will look into the eyes of a new stranger and fall a little again. As Hozier sings ‘I fall in love just a little bit every day with someone new’, cause I’m weird like that. I always see the best in people, and I always imagine how they might be like, what kind of music they might listen and if they are a cat or dog person.

This is my fault, I’m sure. If I really have to think about it. I fall too easily. So I’ll try to stop. This time I’ve promised myself I will not even look at another guy again. I’m better of alone.

---

So… It only lasted two days. I actually did manage to not even respond to that random dude who sled into the dm’s on my social media or the flirty guy at the counter as I hand him his coffee. I remained strong until he came in.

He’d been coming into the coffee shop for two months now, always the same solemn expression on his face. He’s always lost in thought, like there’s a million things going on in his mind. Whenever he comes in, I want to ask him what he’s thinking. What have caused him to have those haunted eyes so full of unspoken emotions. But I never do.

Today his pattern changes. He comes in, gives me that slight smile as he places his order and waits patiently for it go get done, but instead of going, he sits down in the corner. He’s always so quick to leave again, like he doesn’t want anyone to see him, yet today he sits there by the window, looking out.

He looks lost somehow, like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Like life hasn’t exactly treated him kindly either. He looks… almost like me. I know I should leave him alone, but I wonder if a small act of kindness from a stranger could lift that veil of sadness. If maybe I could make him smile. I bet he has a beautiful smile.

Damn. I’m doing it again. I should have learned by now not to fall so easily. Cursing under my breath, I try to work and not look at him, which proves hard. He is just so beautiful. Those expressive hazel eyes, his plump lips encircled by that full beard and the tattoos on his arms. And he probably has a nice body under that shirt, considering how it clings to- No… I got to stop this. This is the kind of thinking that always gets me in trouble.

As he gets up from his seat, I already start looking forward to the next time he comes in. Maybe he’ll stay again the next time? Maybe even stay a little longer, so I could conjure up some courage to talk to him? But to my surprise, he doesn’t walk to the door, but comes back to the counter.

“I-” He starts but stops again. His eyes find mine and I feel my heart skip a beat, like it always does when he looks at me. “I’ve been trying to get the courage to ask you out for over a month now.”

The small smile grows into a nervous one, but all I can think is what this man has to be nervous about. Surely, he must know I’d say yes in a heartbeat. Which was almost exactly what I blurt out. Thankfully it makes him smile wider and I was right. A very beautiful smile indeed. ´

“Fine, then. Tomorrow at 8.” He says with a smile and for the first time, it reaches his eyes. The small wrinkles and the shine in his hazel orbs make it impossible not to smile too.

“Tomorrow.” I confirm with a giggle, barely able to speak without stumbling over my words. On his way out he turns to me, giving me a little wave with the smile still adorning his beautiful face. Once he is out the door, it takes several minutes before my breathing is back to normal and my heart is done making backflips.

I have a date. A date with Michael. And in that moment, I don’t even care if he turns out like the others and leaves me broken. But something tells me he isn’t like the others. That this time it will be different, because… We have to keep hoping, right?

Maybe I could fall again… Just a little bit?

Tagging: @mindidjarin @itwasthereaminuteago @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @mattmurdocksscars @theradioactivespidergwen @chvoswxtch @pedrito-friskito @yarrystyleeza @murdock-and-the-sea @saintmurd0ck @boliv-jenta

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella #hozier #michael kinsella fanfiction

[lumifly]

→Imagine: You don't have a vision but insist on helping them Pt. 2!

✦Some Imagines where reader is a normal civilian, but tags along with their favorite genshin character promising that they can be helpful in their own way! ✦But this is the part two! Link to part 1 is here ✦Characters: Xiao, Thoma, and of course Y/N! ✦I hope you guys enjoyed the previous one, I enjoyed writing it Lemme know if you want more of this or if you want something similar ♡

✦Xiao

It seems to have been one of those nights, the darkness outside of Wangshu Inn was all consuming as you looked over over the ledge of the balcony, the wind harshly blowing past you you within an instant. Humming to yourself, you recalled that Xiao was out and probably wouldn't be home for a moment.

Sometimes he would get like this, he liked to act like no one could understand him. Maybe that was true. But, you would like to have the opportunity to try at least. As you wrapped yourself in one of your jackets, you sat on the wooden balcony, staring at the sky wondering if this is the same sky that Xiao has stared at for all the years that he had been alive. Was it still beautiful to him?

You supposed that eventually, everything would lose its touch, in a way you could rationalize him mindset, but that didn't make it any less depressing within your mind. You would never be a god, nor would you never be a vision bearer, you wouldn't ever even be a soldier so you'll never know much about loss or sacrifices.

You'll never know exactly why Xiao's face at night contorts in a pain so unfamiliar to you or why he avoids sleep with such conviction.

But, you do know Xiao.

You know how Xiao looks whenever he eats almond tofu, how for a brief moment he forgets any worries he's ever had and happiness is finally his. How a small blush appears on his cheeks whenever you point out that he smiles with each bite, but he still indulges himself until the plate is empty.

You've seen the relief that washes over him whenever he is surrounded by those he cares for, or the happiness when Zhongli compliments him. You’d never tease him about this though, you know how important they are to him, and it pains you knowing that Xiao has a hard time expressing that to them.

You knew how he looked at you on occasion, it was rare, but sometimes you were graced with a gaze of adoration from a man who you knew was willing to die for you. More than likely wanted to die for you. This was the opposite of what you wanted of course, but it was always on your mind.

Standing, you moved away from the balcony edge before calling out to Xiao, "Xiao, can you come home now?" It wasn't long before the wind was rustling the leaves in trees and Xiao was next to you, his neutral expression not giving much away. "Thanks for coming," you started before he interjected you.

"Don't I always?" he was a bit snarky, but it wasn't that different than normal and you had grown to love his thorny personality.

"Yes, besides, I wanted to thank you but more importantly I wanted to talk..," as you continued to speak his expression dropped a little and it looked like he began to regret having his cold exterior these past few weeks, thinking that you were planning on breaking things off with him. He didn't plan on begging you to stay with him, but truth be told, he was beginning to break down on the inside.

"[Y/N], just, please get on with it. I want to understand," his voice was incredibly meek for someone who normally was all bark, but you didn't complain as you grabbed his hand, looking up at him to make sure it was okay before continuing. "I want to be there for you like you are for me!"

You rubbed small circles on his hands as you talked, "I'm not any type of archon, hell, I don't even know how hold a bow! But I know how to make almond tofu! And I'm the best listener and I want to understand your strug-" You cut yourself off before you made him sound a bit too weak,

"I just want to understand you better okay? You can't leave anymore! I may not have some fancy vision but I definitely have ears! Talk to me! You can't protect me until I'm able to protect your feelings!"

Your ramble was a bit long winded and you were a bit out of breath by the time you finished, but you said what you had wanted, though you had left some of the sappiness out but you yourself thought it was pretty good.

Xiao on the other hand, he thought it was so darn cute and rather amusing. At first, he tried to keep his composure with just staring at you as you kept babbling on about feelings and talking. Yet, as you continued, it got harder and harder until he just chuckled, cheeks flushed red and a hand covering his mouth desperately trying to hide himself. He was tempted to leave due to embarrassment, but out of respect for you and your near confession he stayed.

"So you want to protect my feelings?" he asked between fits of near giggles.

"Well, yeah? What's so wrong with that you dumb adeptus?!"

✦Thoma

Your favorite ginger had been missing recently and you couldn't help but feeling some resentment towards a certain pair of siblings that definitely didn't realize how hard his job was. While the pair were great in their own ways, it could be frustrating to see how worked to the bone Thoma was at times due to the nature of his work and you couldn't help but to blame them no matter how much you were reassured.

You hadn't seen Thoma at his home within days, and whenever you stopped by it was apparent he hadn’t had much of any free time. Using the key that you had been lent back when you had first became close, you welcomed yourself inside and let out a small gasp at the state of it.

It was so unlike Thoma for anything associated with him to be untidy, so for his floors to not be swept and not be mopped along with clothes strewn about and dirty dishes in the sink, you knew that your sweet boy had been overworked and he simply didn't have the time to clean his own home.

He would've been mortified to know that anyone saw his home in this state, but you quickly got to work, starting with the kitchen since that gave you access to most of his cleaning supplies. Putting on a pair of his cleaning gloves (which were definitely pink) to protect yourself from harsh chemicals, you set to work scrubbing dishes and wiping windows, counters, tiles, and mopping.

You were surprised at how hard this work was, but knew that Thoma was probably doing much harder tasks keeping up with the trouble making siblings and quite honestly, your blood boiled knowing that likely they hadn't given him a day off in a week! You made a mental note to go up there soon to demand they give him a day off, but that would have to wait until work is done.

Looking around at your handywork, you were swift to pick up Thoma's clothes and tried to make sure you sorted and folded them in a way that was in align with how he would like. "Thoma's so picky with this stuff," you chided as you arranged them into his dresser. Though it was a hassle, it was almost cute how much of a housewife he was. You could just imagine him sitting at home with a child, the thought making a soft blush rise on your cheeks.

It was a long day of playing maid for the ginger, you had finally sat down on the couch in the living room, your eyelids feeling heavy but your heart content and promising yourself to do this more often. You had never really gotten around to going to the Kamisato Clan's building, but you were desperately trying to remember to do that as you heard a set of keys enter the door knob.

A set of tired footsteps entered the home, making his way into the living room before doing a double take at the state of the house and who was sitting on his couch practically asleep.

"[Y/N]?! What are you doing here and why did you clean my house?!" His voice was remarkably shrill, enough to cause you to stir in your sleep and send him an unusually dirty look before realizing the situation.

"I'm sorry Thoma, I got so upset about you working so much that I wanted to help you out. I can't really help much with your job at the Commissioner's Office but I can clean here! Easily! This is how I can support you! I mean I have my own job, but my bosses aren't meanies like yours!”

Thoma was smiling at this point at your genuine want to help him out and he couldn't help but pull his sweet girlfriend in for a soft kiss, his lips meeting yours for the first time in about a week now. His work schedule had been as crazy as you had claimed.

"Well, I appreciated your neverending support love. But the siblings are not 'meanies' as you call them." he retorted with a soft laugh, pecking at your nose.

You were quick to gasp, frowning up at him, "I'm going to talk to them tomorrow! I'll demand they give you time off!"

"Baby that's not necessary!"

To you, it was.

#genshin imagines #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #genshin thoma #thoma x you #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin impact #xiao #thoma x reader #genshin impact thoma #genshin