wildflower

a home for my blurbs and pieces of writing

[wildflowerblurbs]

Rocky Beginnings | Jonah

Jonah X GN! Reader

CW: angst, self deprecating thoughts

You and Jonah now have what most people would consider to be a happy, healthy relationship, but your love story hardly started that way. Especially since it started during your angsty school years.

A/N: Here I am posting every once in a blue moon. For some reason, I headcanon that Bartender and Jonah (but mostly Bartender) were really angsty when they were in school. This is one snippet into that headcanon.

-

“Care for some company?”

You didn’t look up to see the origin of the voice, nor did you bother answering the question. You’d always had an unsaid form of communication with Jonah. As much as you’d hated to admit it, you always wanted his company. He knew it too; the question was more of a courtesy. 

You’d simply scooted over, giving him some space to join you on the floor of the already cramped janitor’s closet you’d hidden yourself into. He, on the other hand, wasted no time in settling down. You soon felt the warmth of his body next to you, the space not allowing for much separation—not that either of you minded. 

For a while, no one said anything. What was there to say? Hey, sorry I can’t communicate to save my life? Or, better yet, sorry for hiding like a weirdo, vulnerability scares me?

So much for the ‘tough guy’ act you’d been putting on. 

One kiss from the multicolored, fluffy-haired boy next to you was all it took to completely obliterate it. Curse him and his soft lips and charisma, you thought to yourself, hoping that he couldn’t feel the waves of self-frustration coming off of you in that moment. 

“Listen…” his voice finally shattered the silence you’d created. “…I’m sorry about the kiss. I—I guess I thought there was something there but if I got the wrong impression and you’re avoiding me because my feelings make you uncomfortable then—“

“They don’t,” you finally said, interrupting his spiral of statements that couldn’t be farther from the truth. His feelings didn’t make you uncomfortable, they scared you, and sometimes you couldn’t tell which was worse.

If the kiss hadn’t made your heart beat right out of your chest, you wouldn’t be hiding right now. You could just reject him here and now and you’d move past this, go back to normal. You wouldn’t be hiding from your own feelings.

“Your feelings don’t make me uncomfortable, Jonah. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Then what are we doing in a janitor’s closet?”

Despite the expected snark that could’ve been hidden within the question, it had instead come out softer than you’d ever heard Jonah speak before. It only made your heart ache. 

For the first time since he’d kissed you, you finally turn to face him—properly face him. 

Gone was his signature lazy smile, the dimples that often accompanied it, and the liveliness of his eyes. The liveliness had been stamped put by deep dark circles, most likely left behind by what must’ve been a week’s worth of sleepless nights. He couldn’t fake a smile even if he wanted to. He knew you’d see right through him anyway. You always did—

“There is no ‘we.’ I came here intending to be alone for a bit before class. You’re the one jumping to conclusions.” 

—but, unfortunately for you, Jonah always saw right through you too. 

“Right, because you’ve always been known to hide in closets during your breaks,” Jonah snaps, the softness fading into something harsher. 

Good, his anger would be more palpable. You’d only fall apart otherwise.

“I’m not exactly right in the head, thought you would’ve picked up on that by now,” you simply say back, getting ready to escape this conversation.

At this, Jonah’s eyes flash with something you can’t quite place—pity perhaps, or maybe even concern—before reaching out to take hold of your wrist. His grip is careful, strong enough to prevent you from running, but never enough to hurt you.

“Enough of this. Avoiding me isn’t doing either of us any favors. Just talk to me, please.” 

You can’t help but look away at his plea. His eyes are too desperate, too full of something you’re only too terrified to dissect. 

“I’ve never been good at talking either,” you try deflecting. “…You know that so stop acting surprised now. You knew from the very beginning what kind of person I was.”

“Right,” he huffs out in disbelief. “Enlighten me then, what kind of person is that?”

A coward, for starters, you think to yourself.

But it seems like Jonah reads your mind because he immediately interrupts your self-deprecating train of thought before you can verbalize it.

“Wrong,” he firmly states while shifting his grip on your wrist to instead take hold of your hand. The warmth of it used to comfort you. The times he’d lead you to one of the many quiet places he knew to help with your social anxiety. Or even the times he’d quickly grab your hand to run away from whatever consequences awaited his bursts of rebellion, never dreaming of leaving you behind. 

The warmth only suffocated you now, reminding you that it wasn’t something you deserved. You’d only mess it up, mess him up with your baggage. You couldn’t do this to him, no matter how much you wanted it. 

Your thoughts aside, he continues. “I’m not going to tell you that you don’t know yourself, or that what you feel is wrong.”

You keep your head down

“But what I can do is help you fight those negative thoughts away.”

His other hand moves to your cheek, pausing slightly before finally caressing it. There’s a beat of silence, seemingly giving you the time to refuse him, to move away. You stay still.

“You’re not a coward, you’re not a terrible person, and there is absolutely wrong with you.” His gaze suddenly darkens, something he tries to conceal with a weak smile as he leans closer to your face. Your noses are nearly touching. “There are days I wish I could find the fuckers who made you feel this way and beat them to a pulp.” 

You knew it was unrealistic and would only cause more problems, but you secretly wished he could do so too. If your demons were something that could be beat, life would be a lot easier for the both of you. 

“…I hate that you always see the best in me. It feels like I’m lying to you… like you’re going to see through me one day and realize I’m not who you think I am.”

He squeezes your hand. 

“I see you, all of you” 

You slump your forehead against his, shutting your eyes. 

“Why do you always know the right thing to say?”

This earns you a chuckle from him.

“What can I say?” He responds, a mix of his signature teasing and something softer. “It could only mean that I’m the right one for you.”

For the first time in a week, you feel your lips curl slightly.

“You’re a dork, you know that?”

“Am I a dork who get’s another kiss?—Oh, and one who won’t get ditched afterwards?”

“…Just kiss me already.”

He doesn’t need to be told again. Before you know it, he’s nudged your lips towards his, capturing them in a slow and gentle kiss. It’s not like the first one. The first one reflected just how caught up in the heat of the moment you were at the time, holding a sort of desperation. No, this one was far more careful. As if he’s expecting you to take off again. 

But you won’t. You owe him at least that much. You can’t keep running away from this, whatever this is. 

He finally pulls away, resting his forehead back onto yours.

“You wanna talk somewhere that isn’t a janitor’s closet?”

Not really, you think to yourself. But there’s no one else I’d want to face this fear with. 

You nod. 

“Let’s go.”

[wildflowerblurbs]

very random thought but can you imagine the off chance that the bar they went to during leigh’s pt 2 being the bar that jonah’s listener (bartender) works at? just bartender witnessing everything that went down and casually mentioning it to jonah but having no idea what’s actually going on

[wildflowerblurbs]

it’s crazy thinking about how tristan is lowkey doing to his current girlfriend what gumpy’s ex did to them. it’s probably gonna end the same way their relationship ended as well. regardless of how things resolve themselves, tristan is going to end up with the one his partner was always worried about.

[wildflowerblurbs]

over analyzing so hard i’ve started to think that maybe there’s a reason why elias’ name sounds so much like alliance

[wildflowerblurbs]

Small question: I’m not necessarily new around here but—for those that do read and enjoy my writings—would y’all be open to sending in requests even if they take a while/I’m a bit picky with what I write? 

I really want to get back to writing but it seems my life has taken over so I figure that maybe taking requests will encourage me to write more. I write basically anything that isn’t otherwise sexually or violently explicit. 

You don’t need to respond to this post or anything, just send something in and I’ll see what I can do! I’ll probably make more rules as I go along in terms of topics/characters I write for. 

—Wildflower

[wildflowerblurbs]

New Nightly Routines | Kayson Mayer

Kayson Mayer x GN! Reader

CW: mentions of anxiety/depression, medication for anxiety/depression, not really angst but not fluff either

A/N: it's good to finally post again.

-

“What’s that?”

You froze for a second. You hadn’t even been thinking when you’d taken out the bottle of pills in the middle of your conversation with Kayson. It seemed to be a common occurrence nowadays, doing things without thinking, or rather just being in a state of not thinking. It was something that still gave you pause even though you’d been with Kayson for months now. A part of you was scared by it, but an even bigger part of you knew that it was Kayson’s comforting and easygoing nature that made it possible. You felt safe with him. Safe enough that you didn’t need to think sometimes, and it was really nice. 

“Oh, right. Sorry, I just realized that I’ve never mentioned this to you before.”

You suppose there isn’t quite a right or casual way to bring up, not only being clinically depressed and anxious, but also taking medication for said depression and anxiety. Well, it’s not like you came off as the most mentally secure person. Kayson has been a witness to your borderline obsessive behaviors towards schoolwork and extracurriculars, but you guess he never gave it much more thought. It’s not to say that he didn’t worry about you—there have been several occasions in which he’s had to personally make sure you’ve eaten—but he must’ve just chalked it up to pressure from your family and perfectionism. It’s understandable not to want to assume the worst of those you love. 

But now you’re here, moved out of your parent’s place and into Kayson’s dad’s house. It’s your first night here as a resident and not a guest so you didn’t just handle your nightly routine in his bathroom like you’d usually done when you were just staying over for a night. Your stuff was now next to his: skincare items, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and other miscellaneous things. Both of you were excited about that fact; having your stuff being together was another big step in you being together. And now your bottle of antidepressants was in his bathroom cabinet, together with the first aid and generic pain medication he kept in there as well. He definitely noticed you take out the bottle and swallow a pill.

“No, there’s no need to apologize!” he quickly backtracked, seeming apologetic himself for asking in the first place. “I just blurted out the question without thinking. You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to. Promise.”

“Kayson, it’s ok. I wasn’t hiding this or anything… I just didn’t think to bring it up, honestly. They’re antidepressants. I’ve been on them for years at this point.” 

“Oh,” was his only response and you didn’t blame him. What is there to say in this situation?

“I’m sorry for making things awkward. There’s honestly no need to worry about my wellbeing or anything. I’ve got it handled. I promise.”

“No, wait—I just… you didn’t make things awkward or anything. I guess I just—I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t realize you were—“

“That bad?”

“Depressed, baby. I knew things were so bad at home you had to leave but I didn’t realize to what extent it took a toll on you.” 

“Hon, the fact that you didn’t notice is the reason why I’m even taking them in the first place. Yes, I wasn’t in the best environment and I’ve been stressed lately but this has less to do with anything happening around me and more so do with just how my brain works. I was diagnosed when I was like 12, Kayson, I’ve learned to live with it.”

Kayson didn’t know what to do with this information, you could tell just by looking at him. 

You could only sigh as you placed a hand on his cheek, caressing the soft skin. 

“Kayson, I appreciate your concern, I really do—” you say as you place your other hand on the other side of his face, pulling him in for a brief but soft kiss. “—but this has been a part of me since before you even met me. I can answer any questions you have but please trust me when I say that everything is ok.”

His hands came up to cover yours, leaning into your gentle touch before kissing your palms. His gaze was gentle, finally letting go of the tension his concern was causing.

“Ok, I trust you. I’ll let this go,” Kayson relented. 

“Good. Now, let’s go to bed. I spent so much time working today and everything is starting to blur together. I need sleep,” you say as you grab a hold of Kayson’s hand and pull him to your shared bed. 

You quickly get into bed together, burrying yourself deep into the mountain of blankets while Kayson wraps his arms around you. This had been your nightly routine for months, the subtle strength in his arms and the warm of his body becoming as normal and essential as the weighted blanket you’d used for your anxiety. You reveled in Kayson’s presence and the comfort it brought you. You felt at ease with him by your side.

But still, tonight felt different. You felt something shift as Kayson’s hold on you felt tighter than it usually was. 

He was still worried, and the younger version of you would’ve probably been bothered by such concern. 

The “you” of now, however, understood that these uncomfortable conversations were a monument of growth, in both yourself and your relationship with Kayson. 

And you couldn’t help but hold him just as tightly, secure in the fact that everything was going to be ok. 

[wildflowerblurbs]

I know that nesta and cassian are now officially together but it’d be hilarious if nesta rejected the mating bond in favor of eris only for elain to reject the mating bond with lucien in favor of azriel. like one sister was fated to live in autumn and one was fated to be with an illyrian but it wasn’t the one the cauldron intended.

[wildflowerblurbs]

I think it’s funny that both elias’ and jonah’s listeners make/serve drinks as their job. I wonder if they’ve ever made that connection as well.

[wildflowerblurbs]

Late Night Negotiation | Asirel Cain

Asirel Cain x GN! Reader

CW: slightly suggestive at the end, asirel's usual dynamic with the listener, dependent behavior

A/N: don't mind me, just clearing out my drafts.

-

When Asirel had first referred to you as “pet,” he’d done so emphasizing the fact that you now belonged to him but, although he knew that you were motivated by your need to be wanted, he never expected this. 

You were settled on the floor next to him while he sat at his desk, resting your head on his thigh as if it were the most common daily occurrence. You’d walked into his office with not so much as a knock or warning, something he’d punish others for doing but his quick acceptance of your actions made him realize that he may have spoiled you a little too much. He said nothing as you sat down on the floor and maneuvered his chair to give you the necessary room beside him. He felt you sigh in contentment as soon as you were comfortable and he couldn’t quite find any words to comment on your behavior for a good while.

It’s not like you’d caused a big scene or were trying to get his attention. You’d taken the precaution to stay quiet and seemed to just be happy in his presence. He wasn’t sure if it was the endearing nature of your actions or his newfound instinct to return your acts of affection but it was of his own volition that he’d reached down to stroke your hair while he completed his work. 

To anyone else witnessing this, this would seem laughable and insane. Here you were, a creature so dangerous you could wipe out his entire estate without so much as a scrape to your own body yet choosing to simply lounge by his side like a house cat.

“And to what do I owe this warm and sudden visit, pet?” His voice finally broke the comfortable silence you’d created, his curiosity finally outweighing the importance of the work in front of him.

“…You said you were going to visit me today but you never showed up.” 

Upon hearing your words, he quickly looked over at the clock on his desk and realized it was already past midnight, six hours past the time he’d promised to have dinner with you the night before. He was so caught up analyzing the intel he’d received earlier that day that he’d completely lost track of time and broken his promise to you in the process. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy sigh before pushing the chair back and motioning for you to come up and sit on his lap. Despite the disappointment and slight annoyance you felt when he essentially stood you up a few hours ago, you quickly obliged him, wasting no time in settling in and resting your cheek on his shoulder. 

“I apologize, pet. I’ll have my dinner schedule cleared tomorrow so I can make it up to you. How does that sound?” 

You noticed that his voice carried a hint of regret at his actions. He wasn’t a gentle man by any means, but he did take responsibility when he did something wrong. It was times like these you were grateful that you chose to go with him the day he’d come to “adopt” you. He was someone you could depend on. 

“I want to stay with you tonight too,” you requested, knowing that he was more likely to accept now than any other time. 

His eyebrow raised at this request, the edges of his mouth seeming to fight off a smile. “Are you negotiating with me right now? It seems you’ve picked up a few things from me as of late.”

You don’t bother lifting your head from where it’s resting, opting to stay put as you fidget with the collar of his shirt and answer him, “I am simply asking my gracious master to grant me a wish to make me feel better after abandoning me.”

“I did not abandon you.” 

“It sure seemed like you did.” 

Ah, so that was the game you were playing, he thought to himself.

“Fine,” he relents while getting up from his chair, picking you up in the process and leading you towards his bedroom. “As your gracious master, I’ll grant you a space in my bed tonight.” 

Before you can silently cheer the success of your plan, Asirel leans in close to your face and you can see unclear intent in his eyes, “But I will be the one to decide how we spend our night.” 

[wildflowerblurbs]

A Light for the Knight of Shadows | Isaac Rhoades

Isaac Rhoades x GN! Mythic! Reader

CW: mentions of past trauma/mistreatment, reader feeling anxious, minor injuries

A/N: wrote this ages ago and recently found it in my drafts; please disregard any mistakes.

-

“I’ve been lying to you.”

Isaac freezes in his chair before quickly relaxing and placing the documents he’d been reading on the desk. He slowly turns towards you, motioning for you to come closer. 

“You certainly know how to get my attention,” Isaac replies nervously. You could tell he was wary despite his playful words. “What have you been lying about, exactly?”

You fidget in front of him, not quite able to look at him while you contemplate just how you’d broach the subject of who you were—or rather what you were.

Thanks to the stupid rules of your kind, you couldn’t outright tell him what you were. Something about “ignorance being bliss” or however that human saying goes. It was a safety issue. Hunters can’t hunt what they don’t know.

Truthfully, if someone had told you that you’d be in this position six months ago—telling a human of your true identity—you would’ve laughed in their face and reported them to the elders for even suggesting a thing. Well, to be fair, you would’ve done anything to get in the elder’s good graces six months ago, but that’s not the point. Details don’t really matter. What matters is the forbiddenness of what you’re doing. 

It’s a bad idea, really. Humans are fickle creatures and there’s no guarantee Isaac’s love will last. You’d waited until he finally opened up enough to begin a relationship with you, but—disregarding the fact that your kind isn’t even supposed to fall in love with humans—that doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. He’s human. Or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The guilt of keeping this from him was easier when he held you at arm’s length, when the possibility of him throwing you out was high. But things changed. He opened up, slowly but surely, and even revealed his biggest secret. A secret that killed his family and destroyed his innocence. A secret that wasn’t a secret to you.

When he showed you the video of the werewolf, you’d tried to respond in a way that didn’t alert him to your own extended knowledge on the topic, of a life that most humans don’t know about. You’d questioned the validity of the video, both because you weren’t sure if it was created by some human to create chaos and because, if it truly was real, you wanted to gauge his opinion on the matter. You wanted to know if he believed it was real. 

Despite his suspicious nature, he did end up believing the validity of the video. Was it perhaps because he wanted to believe the thing that killed his parents wasn’t some sort of practical joke? Maybe, but that doesn’t really matter either. 

He knew creatures like you were out there, which makes it easier to approach telling him the truth of your existence but also a lot harder at the same time. The shock won’t be from your existence, but rather that you kept it from him. 

Moreover, when it comes to the logistics of your exact conversation, there are a few major issues. 

There is no name for what you are. Names and identifying information are forbidden. Any utterance of information on your kind is immediately quelled before it leaves your mouth. Your throat closes up and you’re left a sputtering mess. Writing anything down is out of the question as well, your hands only producing incoherent scratches and marks if you tried. It’s a curse, you suppose—and an inconvenient one at that—but also an effective way to hide. And an effective way to lose the man you love if you don’t hurry up and say something already. 

You must’ve been quiet for too long because Isaac had long since abandoned his chair and walked over to you when you heard his voice again.

“You… don’t need to force yourself to tell me if it’s difficult. I’m well aware that some secrets are best kept hidden. It’s my job to pry, but you’re not a case to be opened. You more than have the agency to tell me what you wish.” 

At his words, you finally look up at him. His face is a mixture of concern and the same wariness as before. 

“It doesn’t feel fair. You’ve told me things you’ve tried to keep hidden for years and yet here I am struggling to tell you something so important.”

At this, you feel Isaac’s hand gently lift your chin. 

“Have you been spying on me this entire time?”

The shock must’ve been evident on you face at his question.

“No, of course not!”

“Were you sent by an enemy organization?”

“Isaac, you know that’s not the case.”

“You’re right. I do know that’s not the case.”

“Then why are you—?”

“I’ve long since accepted you for who you are, for everything you are. You don’t need to hide from me. Whatever it is you’ve been lying about, I know it was never to hurt me.” You could feel Isaac move closer, closing the gap between you two. “And even if you did try to hurt me, my heart is yours to hurt. Call it unhealthy, but I wasn’t lying when I said that you were now my motivation to live. Do whatever you need to soothe your aching heart. I’ll be here to bear it all.” 

You weren’t sure which one of you moved first, but before you knew it his lips were on yours. It wasn’t like one of the kisses you’d share to greet each other or show affection, this kiss was full of something else. It conveyed the love he professed to you moments before, but it was also vulnerable. Isaac’s heartbeat was more honest about his feelings than he was. You could feel his heart pounding. He was anxious despite his comforting words. 

After you pull away, you decide you’d let the suspense go on for far too long. His words had finally let you find your resolve. 

“Follow me,” you ordered as you pulled Isaac outside of his office. While he normally would’ve teased you for sudden boldness, Isaac knew to keep quiet and let you lead, something you quite appreciated. 

He didn’t question you as you lead him into your shared bedroom. Originally quite bare and minimalist, you’d added your own charm to the bookshelves and wooden furniture that furnished the room. Isaac welcomed your changes, even if he still pauses upon seeing your stuffed animals or displayed collection of fairy tale figurines. It’s not a bad pause by any means, but rather one of disbelief. His room had never been this lively before you. It now had evidence of your shared existence. 

“Ok, I need you to bear with me. This isn’t something I can outright tell you,” you warn as you finally let go of his hand and shut the door. 

He simply nods and waits for whatever you’re planning to do. It’s not until you start to take off your cardigan and shirt that he shows any kind of reaction besides his existing nervousness. 

“What are you—?” Isaac starts but is immediately cut off by a large flash a light and sudden blast of wind that would’ve knocked him down if not for the door behind him. 

Suddenly, the fact that you are shirtless in front of him is the last thing on his mind. He has bigger issues to discuss, namely the wings that were now sprouting out of your back. 

He is speechless as he takes in your new form. Your wings are birdlike—white like a dove’s but don’t look nearly as soft. Rather, the feathers look sharp enough to cut him if he were to touch them, a risk he’s debating taking as he continues to look at you, enthralled by what he’s seeing. 

You stand in silence for a few moments, waiting for him to finally say something. You look for any signs of fear or anger, but only see pure amusement. 

“…An angel…,” he manages to breathe out. 

You don’t even try to speak. Confirming or denying his claim is just as forbidden as outright telling him what you are yourself. Instead, you walk over to him, taking note of how he steps back—an impulse even he can’t shake—and immediately freezing in your spot. 

You lower your wings, not wanting to intimidate him. They weren’t as big as the others of your kind—a reason why you were cast out—but they’d seem big to anyone who’d never seen them before. Hell, the wings themselves are intimidating. 

At seeing your attempt to make yourself smaller, Isaac walks towards you. 

It wasn’t just the wings that were different about you. Your skin was glowing, radiating a soft light that was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Your eyes were sharper, not quite glowing but still brilliant enough to notice. It was like your entire being was made up of light. It was all so inhuman. 

Despite this—or maybe because of it—Isaac doesn’t hesitate in gently placing his hands on your both sides of your face, caressing the soft skin. 

“I’m not who I said I was, Isaac,” you say finally, almost too quiet to hear. 

“Strange, I don’t ever recall you ever claiming to be human,” was his response. 

You look up at him in disbelief. His tone was playful, but his eyes showed something different. You’d figured he was delirious from the shock, but he was quite serious. 

“I don’t understand. You’re…ok with this? That I kept this from you?”

Isaac pauses for a second to think before be responds. 

“After my grandfather showed me the video, I spent months trying to find as much information on the supernatural as possible. I didn’t follow any threads that would put on their radar, but not knowing anything about these creatures that I was suddenly now aware of was difficult. I needed to do something to ease the uncertainty I was facing.” 

He had moved his hands from your face, opting to hold yours instead, squeezing them in comfort. 

“The research I did was quite extensive and I managed to find quite a lot of information once I weeded out the websites and blogs that were obviously written by humans who had no idea what they were talking about. There were hundreds of entries, both by creatures writing about themselves and by those who hunt them.”

His face hardens. 

“The hunting records were endless. Reports of entire clans being massacred, the best ways to torture every kind of creature you could think of, their strengths and weaknesses, the trafficking of supernatural creatures for purposes of protection or… other unsavory reasons. All of these records claiming that the supernatural are dangerous, yet only showing the cruelty towards them at the same time. I thought that the video of the werewolf being tortured was bad, but it was nothing compared to what I found afterwards.”

His expression becomes intense as he brings you close to him, minding the wings as best as he can.

“You know my stance when it comes to human nature. We are weak compared to the supernatural, but we aren’t innocent by any means. Humans are cruel and seek out any and all kinds of power for the sake of their own advancement... You were protecting yourself. I can’t blame you for that.” 

You weren’t sure when it started, but his final words made you realize that you’d started crying. Once coming to this realization, you bury yourself further into his chest, feeling his arms hold you tighter to him as well, now letting your wings cut him as much as they want.

“You’re you. It doesn’t matter if you’re not human. Everything you’ve shown me in the time we’ve known each other has only proven that you’re better than any other human could be—even without having so-called ‘humanity.’ I love you. That hasn’t changed, nor would it have changed over something like this to begin with.” 

You pull back slightly and he wipes the tears from your eyes as you finally speak up again.

“You really mean it? This doesn’t bother you?”

At this, Isaac looks offended that you’d even ask those questions.

“My feelings for you aren’t so fickle that they’d disappear over something like this,” he asserts with a tinge of a tease in his voice, hoping to lighten the mood. “It doesn’t matter what you are, you are mine—” 

He pauses and lifts your chin once again.

“—and I am yours,” he finally finishes. 

When he leans over to kiss you, you let him take over, trusting his words fully as he shows you his determination. Your mind is a blur of all kinds of emotions as you melt into his soft yet somehow still firm hold. When you finally pull away, you’re breathless from the sheer intensity of it all. 

It’s also once you pull away that you realize you’ve been shirtless for the entirety of this conversation. Suddenly embarrassed, you shift back into your wingless form—much to Isaac’s disappointment—and rush to pick up the shirt you were wearing to put it back on. 

As you quickly—and shyly—put on your shirt, you take notice of Isaac’s own appearance, or rather the cuts covering his arms where he’d made contact with your wings. Your eyes widen as you rush over, apologetic over having hurt him unintentionally. 

Before you can say anything or apologize, Isaac cuts you off: “Don’t. I did this to myself. Besides, they’re more like scratches than anything. It’s nothing to worry about.” 

He sighs as he sees your guilty expression. An expression he reasons is due to his injuries, but is rather something much deeper.

“…The first aid-kit is in the bathroom. You can patch me up if you’d like.” 

You perk up at his offer, quickly rushing to the bathroom to grab the first-aid kit as he’d requested. It’s not hard to find by any means—meant to be easily accessible for emergencies—but you’re delayed by your own thoughts. 

You should’ve been defeated by the fact that you couldn’t heal him in the same way others of your kind easily could’ve in your position. You should’ve wished to be as strong as them, to be worthy of calling yourself [redacted], but for once in your life you weren’t. 

Here you were, living a life with a man who loves and accepts you for who you are. Even if it’s just the two of you, you finally have a home and family. You have a purpose, whether it be being Isaac’s life partner or a private investigator. You were actually glad to have been cast out, to have been abandoned and left to fend for yourself. All of the pain and suffering—

“Having trouble finding it? I’ll try looking for it downstairs. I may have left it down there.”

You smiled to yourself. Right, you had a job to do. This reflection can come later. 

“Nope, it’s right here! I’ll be there in a bit!”

The day would come when you’d finally grow strong enough to protect the two of you, to tell Isaac of your upbringing and the reason why you were cast out—or at least as much as you were allowed to—but that would come in due time. Right now, you’d help in the way you knew how, and that was more than enough. 

[wildflowerblurbs]

A Painful Step Towards Healing | Isaac Rhoades

Isaac Rhoades x GN! Reader

CW: mentions of past abuse/unhealthy relationships, trauma caused by abuse/unhealthy relationships, yelling, arguments, hurt/comfort

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Trauma isn’t a simple thing, no matter how much you wished it was.

You’re in a committed relationship with the man who gave you a second chance at life. You wake up in his arms without the fear of having your belongings thrown out by the landlord before kicking you out for not paying rent on time. You eat your meals with him without uncertainty of when your next meal will be or needing to ration out your food to last weeks at a time. You live your life knowing that you have a future with him. You not only have a family with him, but a family that loves you.

You’ve escaped the hell that you were living, so why? 

Why are you currently hyperventilating on your shared bathroom floor? 

Why can’t you stop the tears that are blurring your vision and staining the carpet below you?

Why couldn’t you keep your composure when the man that you love so much lost his temper and raised his voice at you?

Isaac is not my father. He’d never hurt me. Isaac is not my father. He’d never hurt me. 

You replayed these phrases in your head like a mantra, scolding yourself for even needing to make that clarification to yourself. Isaac had been having a stressful day. People snap sometimes and it’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. 

It was your fault anyway. You’d insisted on having dinner with him when he’d told you that he’d skip dinner to continue working on a particularly hard case he’d gotten recently. You kept pushing when you shouldn’t have. It was your selfishness that got you into this situation. It was your fault. 

Perhaps that’s why you retreated into the bathroom after promptly apologizing for everything yet nothing at all. You weren’t even sure of what you’d said to him. As soon as you felt the panic spike through your body, you’d excused yourself as quickly as you possibly could. 

It took everything within you to stay quiet as the fears and feelings you often experienced as a child rushed back to you. Issac knew that your childhood wasn’t the happiest but you rarely discussed the details. You didn’t want him to feel like he needed to be careful around you. He always looked so fond when he talked about his mother’s traditions or his father’s teachings and you didn’t want to take that away from him. Truthfully, you weren’t even triggered by his experiences. His parent’s love for him had nothing to do with the unhealthy love your parents had given you. There was no reason why it’d bother you. There’s no reason why anything Isaac did would incite these feelings within you. Or at least you thought. 

This wasn’t even the first time he’d raised his voice at you. He’d been pretty agitated when you insisted on pursuing a relationship with him despite the dangers. He’d been harsh to you before when talking about his past was still considered to be none of your business. There was no reason as to why his anger was affecting you so much now and you hated yourself for reacting this way. 

Here you were, spiraling with thoughts of self-hatred and fear. 

Will he leave me if I’m too annoying? 

I should’ve left him alone, now he hates me.

He hates me. He hates me. He hates—

A sudden urgent succession of knocks on the door interrupts your thoughts. The door opens before you’re able to compose yourself or tell him to give you a moment. Telling by the worried look of his face and the speed at which the door opens, you figure that he’d been knocking for longer than you had realized. 

Time seemed to stop the moment your tear-filled eyes locked with his. You wanted to crawl into a hole from how mortified and embarrassed you felt at being caught for overreacting to such a small thing. 

You quickly get up from the floor, wiping the tears from your eyes with shaky hands. 

“I apologize for barging in. You weren’t responding and I… I was worried something had happened to you. It seemed like you were struggling to breathe; I didn’t know what to do.”

Before he has the chance to take your shaky hands into his and inspect your current state, you move away.

“Y-you don’t need to apologize. I’m sorry for causing such a—“ 

“No, I am the one who needs to apologize. I shouldn’t have taken out my frustration on you when you were only trying to care for me. I should’ve thought about how my words would affect you. Please don’t ignore your own feelings. You more than have the right to feel upset right now. It’s only natural that you would be.” 

Shock was the only explanation for your sudden collapse. The shock of hearing the words you’d always wanted to hear from those that had hurt you from the one person who had only given you love destroyed the last bit of composure you had. 

Isaac joins you on the floor, bringing you close to his chest and holding you in the warmest embrace you’ve ever experienced. His hand rests in your hair, stroking it gently as you cry in his arms. His case didn’t matter right now, nor did anything else that could possibly require him to leave your side in this moment. He’d needed you so many times in the past. It was his turn to return the favor. 

“I- I was so scared,” you managed to speak in between sobs. Your hands found themselves holding onto his shirt, finding security in the firmness of your grip of him. 

Your actions only made Isaac pull you closer, “It’s ok, everything is going to be ok.” He lifts your chin, his eyes meeting yours, “I will do everything in my power to make sure of it.” 

This wasn’t the first time you’ve heard such words and promises from someone, but for the first time in your life, they don’t ring hollow. He wasn’t just trying to placate you. He meant every single word. 

You hold his gaze for a moment, deciding that you’ve hidden yourself away for far too long. He was Isaac Rhoades, the man you decided to spend the rest of your life with. The man who you trust with your life, who gave you a second chance at life. If there was anyone in the world who you could trust to handle your own demons, it was certainly him.

“…Isaac…have you ever wondered why I left home?”