#A horrible one but a memory nonetheless
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In the summer of this year we made a journey to Transylvania, and went over the old ground which was, and is, to us so full of vivid and terrible memories. It was almost impossible to believe that the things which we had seen with our own eyes and heard with our own ears were living truths. Every trace of all that had been was blotted out. The castle stood as before, reared high above a waste of desolation.
What a way to recount, and see the time has passed.
Castle Dracula, the castle where Jonathan spent months trapped in a hellish experience that left him as a shadow of himself. The same castle where Van Helsing had to kill the Weird Sisters by himself as Mina was left alone in the snow. This castle that held horrible memories, and more horrifying events at the hands of the Count for who knows how long... It's a relic of an ancient time now.
Time will pass, and even the castle itself will become ruins to be discovered by other people exploring. Maybe Jonathan and Mina will visit again in the future to see that place of nightmares once again, and see even less traces of their mighty battle against an evil man untouched by time. The living truth will remain in the documents, and in their lives, but even that one day will pass.
And that, I speculate will bring them comfort. As they remember Lucy and Quincey, as they keep in touch with Jack and Arthur, as Van Helsing visits them, and they raise little Quincey too. For them, the fact that time passes is a good thing, because it will be the decisive victory of those days when Mina feared to roam the earth undying, and alone.
#Both Mina and Jonathan probably took little Quincey with them too#I wonder if his view made them realize that time moves foward#And with it one day when they are on their deathbeds all of this will be a memory#A horrible one but a memory nonetheless#dracula daily#dracula#mina harker#mina murray#jonathan harker
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voicelines about you: as their lover ! (part 2)
featuring: sunday, aventurine, blade (+ black swan, acheron) [ part 1: dan heng, jing yuan, gepard, kafka, jingliu. ]
notes: well. the long awaited part 2 is here! (i took absolutely wayyy too long to finish this but a lovely anon requested the penacony cast so i just waited until now haha) stay tuned for either a future aventurine fic or a sunday fic tho; reblogs are appreciated! main masterlist.
Sunday
About [Name]: Ah, you speak of my beloved. [Name] has managed to strike your interest as well? Heh, I'm joking. You aren't that type of person, no? ….But yes, my lover truly is quite stellar, if not incomparable. I doubt I'd find anyone in the universe as lovely as I do them.
About [Name]: Smitten Robin often jokes about how my eyes change whenever I see them. ‘Softens like the smitten man you are,’ she says. Well, my sister is hardly wrong about matters of the heart, and to be fair, her words are indeed correct. While I cannot be with them every second of the day, despite my only wish to do so…. I suppose this much is fine. At the very least, this bewitched version of myself shall ward any that dare take [Name] away from me.
About [Name]: Preparation. …My mansion has everything [Name] shall ever desire. As for I, what I only desire is them alone, and for them to be right by my side. When the time is right, what's mine shall also be theirs, and none shall ever separate the two of us again. Should anyone attempt it, well, there's a reason my mansion is built the way it is.
Aventurine
About [Name]: [Name], [Name], [Name].... I see that you too have an eye for priceless treasures. Unfortunately for you, this particular one is already mine to behold. Mm, I wonder how my lover must be faring right now…. Missing them is truly, horribly debilitating.
About [Name]: Unworthy Whenever I think of [Name] being with me, of all people… Sometimes, the thought is unbearable. To think they would care for someone like me…. How truly lucky I am. Or maybe it's the other way around? Hehe, take a guess.
About Topaz: Contradictory Topaz and [Name] get along fairly well, despite her rather obvious dislike for me. Nonetheless, I suppose I can understand why. My lover is irresistibly charming~ Now, does this make me jealous, I wonder…. How about we bet on that?
Blade
About [Name]: Though this sword may be battered and broken, if you harbor any intention of harm towards them, I will not hesitate to brandish this blade.
About [Name]: Mara Infliction When afflicted with mara, the senses are ravaged ceaselessly, muddying the mind—being unable to distinguish ally from foe. This is my path. And yet their face is clear, pure amidst the carnage, alleviating the haze for but a moment. My mind may be overridden with hatred, but I will never forget that feeling of salvation.
(BONUS: Kafka’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Truly A Shame Bladie’s little darling, hm? Definitely a wonder, that one, taming him so easily. Those two are definitely an interesting case, that's for sure. Scary, marastruck Blade and them…. truly a shame. Even I know just how the ending of that particular script will end.
Acheron
About [Name]: …They are my lover, yes. Hm? Tell you more about them? Heh, I think you'd have better luck asking [Name] instead of me. I probably wouldn't even know where to begin.
About [Name]: Keeping Memories Despite the fact of my memories being in less than the best condition, [Name] always tells me about all the exciting things they've come across, whether it be delicious food from various planets, or even the most mundane things like the sound of the rushing water, the sight of fireflies in the night. They truly make everything worth remembering.
(BONUS: Black Swan’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Eye Of The Storm Ah, you speak of that Galaxy Ranger's companion…. The abyss that is her consciousness seems to only become calm in the face of them, akin to the eye of the storm. A shining light in the middle of nothingness—that is something that even she cannot let go of. No wonder Miss Acheron is quite taken with them.
Black Swan
About [Name]: The memories of Memokeepers are sorted into various categories by their importance. As my lover, my memories of them hold the greatest value of all. Such memories…. even if the Remembrance wishes for me to hand them over, I doubt I will ever allow it.
About [Name]: Dancing My proficiency in the act of dancing is all thanks to my continued practice with [Name] on our shared time together. Fufu, ‘dates,’ if you will. Every moment I spend in their arms, swaying to the beat of the music at every turn… those are the memories I wish to forever retain.
About Acheron: Indebted One time, Miss Acheron managed to get lost in the middle of the Reverie Hotel’s halls... as usual. [Name] came across her then, and proceeded to have a lovely chat with her. I owe her a debt for keeping my lover company as I was preoccupied with some matters the Garden of Recollection entrusted to me to relay to the family. Next time, perhaps I should invite her over for some dinner with [Name]....
end notes thanks for sticking around the part 2 (for the ogs who read pt 1) and do look forward to more HSR content in the future! also did i say i love aventurine
© ���𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
#mhie's spirals#hsr aventurine#hsr blade#hsr black swan#hsr acheron#hsr sunday#hsr x reader#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr x you#aventurine x reader#sunday x reader#black swan x reader#acheron x reader#blade x reader#aventurine x you#aventurine hsr#aventurine honkai star rail#sunday x you#black swan honkai star rail#blade x gender neutral reader#blade x you#sunday x y/n
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WINTER NIGHTS | CREGAN STARK X TARG!READER ꧂
a b r i d g e m e n t : With tensions rising, your elder half-sister Rhaenyra arranges for you to seek asylum in the freezing land of the North. And fortunately for you, Cregan is there to show you how Northmen operate.
TW: penetration, loss of virginity, breeding kink, mentions gender roles but in a sexy way, sexual tension, sibling jealousy, childhood neglect, mentions of death by birth, shitty character development
A/N: I know the girly portrayed is Visenya but her body is tea in this so maybe I do know best…
The second daughter. The oh-so passed over maiden. Not belonging to anything, nor belonging to nothing. Not the first, and not the last. An ever enduring memory to a passed over era. Nothing significant. Never anything significant.
That’s what you were. Insignificance. A beautiful insignificance, if you could see beauty in tragedy. Beauty in all the ways of life. All the little horrible things that make up a big, beautiful, picture. People shan’t look close, you’d assure yourself.
But you were you. Born to the everlasting way of royal life. To the peaceful Viserys, and his second wife, a woman whose name is not all that important. Another maiden from a noble house that perished to childbirth. Lost her life, giving life.
And as it did not to many maidens, the Gods did not grant you the chance to grow up with your mother. The blood that dripped down her thighs had covered you from head to toe as you came into existence, and she had naught of you in her arms before a deep and long slumber overcame her. The stranger had come for her, and he did not slow down on its way. He’d taken her as quick as she’d given you to the world. A quick exchange, you’d suppose.
Now and then you think about her. What she might have looked like, what she might have liked, what she might have been had she survived the wretched burden of your existence. You’d often wonder if infants who survived childbirth ever felt as deep a burden as she did. To have your very first breath of life tainted with the death of an innocent. Tainted with tragedy.
Growing up in King’s Landing hadn’t been all that as it sounded. You’d never really been that happy, as ungracious as it sounded.
You had an older sister - Rhaenyra - who’d occasionally humoured you. You’d never seen much of her, really. Perhaps it was your own fault as well. For not actively seeking her out. For not being the younger sister one was supposed to be. Some people - as close to you as they may be - are just unattainable in your mind. Your kin aren’t your kin until you allow it.
You have better companions than her, you figured. You had your lady-in-waitings. Lady Vievenne of house Swann. Lady Laycie of house Oldflowers. Lady Claere of house Ambrose. Lady Evelyne of house Hightower, who was, by all accounts, a gift from your newest stepmother, Alicent of the house Hightower.
What you also had was younger siblings. Such as Aegon. Though he is naught but a skirt enthusiast, swimming along the sea of young maidens at his whim. But he cares not whether they are, does he?
And oh, do not get yourself started on the one-eyed prince and that smug little smile on his sharp-featured face. Nonetheless, he was gentle. Oh so gentle with his touch. And oh so sinister in the way that made you feel important enough to be in his good graces.
However, you chose to distance yourself from all parties involved as fate made it clear what it had in store. A great slap to the great Targaryen dynasty. A dark cloud looming over the already curse-clad clan.
For even you knew that the only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon, was itself.
“Sister.” you greeted one late evening, having taken flight to Dragonstone on your she-dragon, Starfyre. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“…y/n.” the elder sister called out, a small smile on her lips. “I… am glad for your visit.”
“…I’m certain you are,” you say, trying with all your might to contain a frown.
You eyed her awkwardly as she wiped her sweaty hands off her dress, letting out a sigh as the elder royal wasn’t quite certain how to approach the topic.
“I… understand… things quite haven’t been… that active, in our kinship,” Rhaenyra speaks up, taking a step closer. “And for that, I apologise.”
You could only nod, a small smile gracing your lips at the heartwarming confession of absent love.
“I apologise, also.” you smiled, your hands finding each other behind your back. “I suppose I should have been the one to seek your company and counsel as well.”
“Good.” Rhaenyra smiled awkwardly, a silence engulfing the echo-ridden chambers. “The reason, as to why I called you, might be surprising.”
You froze slightly, heart pounding as the possibilities of implications travelled through your mind. The goosebumps on your arms grew more prominent as a cold breeze passed through.
“Oh?” you answered, cocking a brow. “And what might that be, sister?”
“I ask of you to travel to the North,” Rhaenyra admits, a tone of seriousness overshadowing the warm moment. “I have already sent a raven to Lord Cregan Stark, and he has agreed to host you. If it pleases you, of course.”
No answer came out of your lips, save for your a mere breath. You felt a pang in your heart, consuming your every emotion, making certain you cannot detect how you feel about the news.
A dragon in the north? What a jest. You’d do better in Dorne, surrounded by sun-kissed squires and stable boys than laddish lordlings and Northern butchers.
“And… why should I?” you asked, respect in your tone. “Pardon me, my sister, but why have you made this decision for me?”
“Tensions are rising, y/n. You know that as well as I do.” Rhaenyra sighs, her body language giving up on its tense posture. “And I am aware of your… complex feelings on it. But to the North you must. I’m sending Rhaena to the Va-”
“Yes, because Rhaena gets to be hosted by a relative of yours, in safety. Meanwhile you sent me off to some Northern stranger!”
“Y/n.” Rhaenyra warned, raising a brow. She took a step closer as you composed your words. “You are my sister, and I will have you safe in the North. The Northmen are honourable men, and in time you’ll know.”
✫彡
And so you were, clad in thick fur, lady Vivenne and lady Evelyne at both sides of yourself. Across from you sat three servants, and somewhere else sat your sworn shield.
“It will be splendid.” Evelyne beamed, properly adjusting her hair, tied up in a bun, similar to the ones the older maidens wear. “We shall meet every dusk, and speak about our day. In front of the fire.”
“Not if I can help it.” you sighed softly. “Apologies, my ladies, but I’ll let you two get at it. I’d love to explore the North in solitude.”
“Right…” Vivenne nodded, looking through the small peep holes as the carriage slowed down, just outside the gates of Winterfell. “We’ve arrived, I suppose. You’ll have to greet Lord Stark. If he’s anything we’ve heard of and more, I wish you luck.”
You only nodded, watching as your ladies exited the carriage, standing at the side of the door. Their faces are cast down, as if in mourning. Perhaps they’re mourning the life of luxury provided at King’s Landing.
You could not blame them for it, really. From growing up in their own house, to growing up in the Royal house, to trade it again to live to see the snowy winters of Winterfell.
You shook slightly, the cold air hitting your face in an instant as you slightly lifted your dress, taking a step out of the three provided for the carriage.
You looked ahead of you, eyes locking on the noblemen and women, standing straight and proud. The women bore clothes of low quality, so obviously sewn to fit any class. The men wore dark furs, contrasting to the blue clothing of the opposite sex.
And in the midst of it, stood Cregan Stark, accompanied by a mere little boy of just two years of age. Your eyes locked upon his stormy-grey ones, his face etched into a stern expression, eyes focused on yours.
You maintained the eye contact, taking each step closer to him.
“Princess Y/N.” Cregan greeted formally, taking your soft hand in his. “Welcome to Winterfell. I am Lord Cregan Stark.”
“Thank you, Lord Stark.” you smile, curtsying in a fashionable manner. Your eyes stood glued on his as his lips brushed against the palm of your hand. “I’m truly honoured to be here.”
“…I’m certain you are.” Cregan answered, eyeing you skeptically.
Hearing false compliments wasn’t out of the ordinary for the wolf of Winterfell. He knew well enough that you weren’t suited for the North. You were a Southern lady, used to the life of feasts, luxury, and sparkly dresses.
“Let us go inside, shall we?” you smiled charmingly, looking up at the tall castle with dread in your eyes.
“Aye, so we shall.” Cregan nodded, his broad shoulders most notable as he sauntered into the opened gates.
✫彡
The first night went unfamiliar to you, the harsh blows of the cold weather creating a prominent presence looming over the already melancholic times.
You sat in your chambers, sitting at the stony window sill as you watched Cregan from above.
The lord was overlooking young squires on the courtyard, engaged in conversation with the knight in charge of guiding the young to-be-knights.
All dressed in fur, shoulders looking as if they were padded. Cregan’s hair was tied up, with two front strands escaping and hanging loose. His grey-blue eyes stood glued at watching the young squire’s techniques, and you could only sigh as you got lost in his appearance.
Ever since stepping foot into the North of Westeros, you’d developed a strange sense of interest in the beauty of Northern men. How they all dressed so grimly, but intimidating. How they’re oh-so honourable and hard working. How they always seemed so clean shaven but rugged all at once.
And you could not help but wonder what it would be like had you wedded one of them.
Being completely honest, you’d never really been the sort of maiden to stay inside of her chambers, waiting for her husband to return from his duty, deprived of affection.
With any Southern lord, being a doting unappreciated wife would never cross your mind.
But with Northern men, however, you had the feeling your efforts wouldn’t go unnoticed.
Before you could continue your vulgarly confusing thoughts, you saw Cregan’s eyes shift to yours, finding your gaze.
You could only lean against the window, a hand on the stony side as you gazed back at him. Your hair was loose, and you were dressed in your creamy beige nightdress.
You held his gaze for a moment, until ultimately turning away, leaving the implications of that gaze to his imagination.
✫彡
By the third day, you’d been reading in the old library belonging to House Stark. You’d sat on a plush seat, the dusty book on your lap as your gentle fingers flipped through the pages.
But you weren’t alone.
Cregan Stark sat near you, his knees in almost touching proximity to yours.
“Aye, the North is cold, but it’s honest.” he tells you, gently shutting his own book. “The snow doesn’t lie about its intention. No courtly games like they play in the South.”
“Oh, please.” you smiled, shutting your book as well. your body shifted so it was facing his, resting your head on one hand. “The courtly games are what makes it so fun.”
“Now, riddle me this.” You smiled, noting his full attention on you. His body language exuded calmness, and you felt secure in the knowledge that his comfort lies with you. “How do you not like courtly games? Personally, it makes my life all the more amusing.”
“I suppose it’s all jesting for you, princess.” Cregan said, his eyes resting on yours. “Amusement or not, I’d rather know where I stand…”
“With you, however…” His eyes trailed down to your bare shoulder, the white nightdress you’re wearing very much a sight of sore eyes. “I think I know.”
“Oh, do you?” you teased, cocking a brow. “And how so, pray tell?”
“Well…” he grunted, shifting in his seat to tighten the proximity around you two. “You’d do well not to cross any Northern man. They don’t take well to… courtly games.”
You only smiled at that, your upper body instinctively leaning in, albeit torturously slow.
“And, uh, suppose I… marry a Northern lord.” you teased quite coquettishly, a hand moving to rest on the thick fur coating his body. “What am I in for.”
You watched as his smirk only widened, gently taking the hand that rested on his fur, and taking it in his.
“Marry a Northern lord like me, and have your nights warmed under the thick fur of blankets.” he says, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Northern loyalty runs deep, princess. That’s what you’d be in for.”
You nodded slowly, and you could not help but notice those coloured eyes of his descending onto your perky breasts.
Great, this was all going well so far. “I’d imagine… do you think he’d gift me a pup? I’ve always wanted a tiny pet, to keep.”
“Yeah?” The lord licked his lips, a hand resting on your waist. “You think you’d handle a wolf properly?”
“Well, I would.” you smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’m a dragon… and dragons do not surrender that easily.”
You smiled, shifting in your seat again as Cregan amusedly indulged you in your silly thoughts. “Just imagine it, my lord. I’d be holding that pup every night trying to get it to warm to me.”
Your hand slowly, but surely, trickled down to his clothed thigh, trying to maintain a sense of quiet intimacy.
“You’ll have your work cut out for you, then.” his voice lowered, bordering on husky. “Wolves aren’t so easily tamed, not even by someone with…”
He paused for a moment, a hand gently taking the one you placed on his thigh.
“…your charms.”
You’d have a cheeky comeback on the tip of your tongue, had it not been for Cregan’s lips descending upon yours, clashing together like Blackwoods and Brackens.
You let out a soft breath as you eased into the kiss, feeling his large hands grip your waists as if his life depended on it.
Your hands moved from his shoulders, to his neck, and then to his armoured chest. The armour he carried felt cold to your hands, yet it made it all the more sinful.
“Did you have this in mind?” you murmured against his lips, tongue circling his as you so sloppily attempted to kiss him. “Seducing me?”
The silence engulfed you two for a moment, only being overshadowed by the sound of soft breaths.
“You have it wrong, princess.” he breathed, firmly planting you upon his lap, your back pressing against his chest. “Do you take me for a halfwit?”
You smiled, looking over your shoulder as you attempted to chase his lips with yours again.
“No, but I certainly did not take you for a man so easily seduced.” you teased, guiding his hands to your clothed breasts. “You don’t seem the type to give in that easily.”
“Because it’s untrue.” he spoke up, lips brushing to against your neck. “But do you honestly think nothing would be done about the way you saunter around, looking as you do?”
His hands slowly tugged against your nightdress, pressing a hard kiss to your achy jaw before pulling away.
“Lay yourself down on the carpet.” he commanded, hands shifting to peel off his fur coat, along with his armour and tunic.
All you could do was nod and watch on as his armour went discarded on the floor, the metal material cranking against the stone ground.
His bare chest was now visible, the defining abs illuminated by the glowing fire. His hair messed up when he threw his tunic over his head.
“Cregan, I-"
And in one moment, you felt his large body overshadow yours, clashing lips again. Cregan lifted his body as to not crush you, hands on either side of your head.
You only permitted yourself to breathe unevenly, stead of moan. Your hands found his shoulders, desiring to pull him closer than possible.
“Ever since you’ve arrived you’d been nothing but trouble.” Cregan murmured, lips finding your throat. “Sauntering around with your ladies, endlessly teasing me.”
Your legs only shifted to wrap around his waist, back slowly arching at the kisses.
He took notice, and let one of his hands pin you down, lips descending towards your perky breasts.
“Gods, you’re wrong for this.” he grunted, swirling his tongue around the nipple. “For provoking me, as you did yesterday, and the day before that.”
“For thinking you have the authority to do this to a lord.” he breathed, your small breast fitting into his large palm.
“For…” he continued, kissing down your stomach, before ultimately glancing back at you “…thinking you’d get away with this.”
“I did not think I’d get away with this.” you tease, watching as he moves face-to-face again. “Which is why I did it.”
Your hands find his muscled arms, squeezing it gently. “I want to know how Northern men do it.”
You’d think you were jesting, but were you truly?
You’d have opened your mouth to say anything else, looking up at him, if it weren’t for the Northern lord himself roughly flipping you to your stomach.
“You wish to know, my princess?” he murmurs, unlatching his breeches. “You’d have your first time be with a Northman?”
You nodded, cheek resting on the carpet fabric without surrender. “Yes. Gods yes.”
He hiked your skirt around your waist, your plump ass visible to his peering eyes.
“You’ll be ruined for other men, aye.” He grunted, his hand wrapping around his rock hard cock.
“That’s good, because I desire no one save you.” you smiled, allowing him to lift your hips up and arch your back.
“Yeah?” he smirked, the tip of his cock rubbing against your damp hole. “You’ll have me make you my wife?”
You nodded, impatiently moving your hips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
“You’d be a good wife, wouldn’t you?” he grunted once again, head finally pushing into your unloosened clit. “No Southern games, no poignant looks of yours.”
“You like that about me.” you painfully breathed, feeling the uncomfortable ache of his cock in your newly penetrated cunt.
His head descended, placing gentle kisses upon your shoulders. “A maiden. Perhaps you aren’t as well-equipped to handle a wolf as you said you were.”
“I am.” you protested, pushing your hips back. “Move your hips. I wish to prove myself.”
He only speeded up his thrusts, and as you allowed the moans to fill your lips, his hands found a way to push your head down.
“You’d carry my pups?” he asked, thrusting into you aggressively, pumping his cock in and out. “Wait on my cock every night?”
You only moaned incredulously, asscheeks clapping along with every snap of his hips.
“Yes.” you breathed, gasp and claps filling the room. “Fuck, put a babe inside of me. I want your children.”
“We’ll have to wed sooner, before the babe gets born in wedlock.” he grunted, hands gripping your hips, pushing you back onto his thick length. “But that’s what you wanted all along, was it?”
You gripped the fabric of the carpet, cheeks burning as it rubbed against the irritating carpet.
“For a thick cock such as this.” he teased, tugging at your hair.
“Yes.” you moaned pathetically, cheeks flushed as you felt a knot forming into your stomach.
Your lips parted, your eyes rolling above-ways.
“Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly, feeling his hands grope your breasts. “Fuck, you’re moving fast.”
“Never fast enough.” he murmurs, member sliding against your wet slit.
He could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for all it is worth. His grip on you tightened as he thrust down to meet your upward motion.
And with one sharp thrusts, you felt the knot loosen and the cream dripping out your twitching clit.
Yet, he didn’t stop, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he rode you through your orgasm.
The feeling of your walls clenching around his cock was enough to send him reeling as well, burying himself deep inside of you.
Hot spurts of cum dripping out of your hole, you completely got yourself spent, closing your eyes and deciding you could just fall asleep on this carpet.
“No sleeping in the library.” he scolded lightly, putting on his fur coat, covering his naked physique. “Come here.”
You exhaustedly crawled over to him again, and snuck yourself into his coat, the clothing covering both of your naked bodies.
“I’m taking you to your chambers.” he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “And for the next time, do not attempt to get so exhausted. I went easy on you this time.”
#hotd cregan#cregan fanfiction#cregan x you#cregan smut#cregan x oc#cregan x y/n#cregan x reader#cregan stark#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fan fiction#house velaryon#house stark#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones#house targaryen#aemond targaryen#fanfiction#aegon targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond smut#aemond x reader#aemond x you#jacaerys velaryon#aemond x fem!reader#rhaenyra targaryen#alicent hightower#targaryen#house of the dragon x#hotd x y/n#hotd x oc
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HIT BRAKE! sae itoshi
(Sae needs to practice his goals and you… driving)
~3.8k words, humor, fluff, angst if you grab a magnifying glass, use of soccer instead of football (i have too much pride to do that), theyre so polar opposite they unfortunately come full circle and match each others freak
Sae Itoshi returned to Japan with several new things under his belt:
The ability to speak spanish (although his grammar structure can use some help from time to time)
An insane growth spurt
Probably shell shock syndrome
And the scariest new update to a chronic Resting Bitch Face that you had the displeasure of seeing thrown your way when you accidentally ran over his ball driving home. Maybe this is why most Japanese people rely on public transport instead of using their licenses
TWO was the number of times you had failed your driver’s test. Yes, you could always use the bus or ask your friends for a ride, but college doesn’t start for another few weeks and you’re determined by pure stubbornness to be driver certified before starting school. You think you’re doing pretty good so far: no accidents, no being pulled over, no getting cursed, and no one loudly complaining about your skills (no one has trusted you to drive them). The only thing you had left to master was parallel parking.
It was a legacy in your family to be horrible at city parking.
One of your earliest memories was in the backseat of a rental car in a foreign country while your mother tried to park on the side of the street, only to get honked at by cars and drive against the flow of vehicles in a one-way zone.
A bag of groceries lie in the trunk of your car as you drive to your family’s home. Humming along to the song softly playing through the radio, you slow down as you near the residential area, confident that this drive will end without a single thing gone wrong. Without speaking, you jinx your thoughts as you jolt when your car goes over a bump and a loud wheeze follows it. Turning your head to the side, your entire body freezes and your eyes go wide upon seeing the pissed off glare of Sae Itoshi, the infamous Japanese soccer player who just returned from Spain with a sexy tan.
With a shaky hand, you roll down your window and immediately start tumbling over your rushed apologies. You don’t even understand what you’re saying but you hope that Itoshi somehow understands. When he doesn’t react, which is what you expected but it hurts nonetheless, you immediately shut up and tumble out of your car before getting on your knees and seeing what you ran over.
Your hand reaches and pulls out a deflated soccer ball, the entire thing flat with a large hole on the side from when it got run over by your car. You almost feel inclined to inflate it with the tears that are about to spill out of your eyes but the only realistic and socially acceptable choice was to give it to Itoshi and once again, apologize but with words that he and the average person can understand.
Itoshi mumbles a “it’s okay” before taking the ball (can you even call it that?) a once-over. “I have more at home, I’ll just throw it out.”
“Holy shit I’m so sorry about that I can buy you a new one just please don’t sue me I can’t afford a good lawyer, I’m in student loan debt.”
“...why would I sue you?” he asks, his face slightly scrunched up in confusion. It’s not much different from his normal expression, just a slight crease of his brows but it makes all the difference.
“I didn’t mean to assume that you’re gonna sue me, please don’t sue me for assuming!” You think that you should begin to pack your bags and take out a loan to move to another country. It would be easier to be a criminal than to deal with a conversation with a guy who multiplies your humiliation. “I just thought that you might get your super prestigious and rich and wealthy and prosperous and exquisitely-copious-in-currency soccer team on my ass ‘cause I ran over one of their balls,” you nervously rambled. Your face heats up at every word and one Itoshi divides into two Itoshis and two Itoshis split into four.
“Are you schizophrenic? I thought you were normal back in middle school,” sixty-eight Itoshis say in unison.
Your body freezes, the now one hundred twenty-eight Itoshis all morphing back into one. “Wait, we went to middle school together?”
“Uh, yeah,” he blinks, this time looking even more awkward than you. “We were in the same class for two years straight and I sat next to you the semester before I left. I think I would remember the kid who slept through each period but still got all the answers right when called on.”
“Oh!” You perk up at the recollection of a scrawny red-haired boy from five years ago, one who would try to not-so-discreetly look at your worksheet answers and peek at your notes during class. “You’re the boy who would always copy off my work. I do remember you!”
“Is that all you remember about me?” If Itoshi were any other person, you’d say he looked uncomfortable but all he did was tilt his head a little more to the left and shift on his feet.
“I mean, the only reason why you remember me is ‘cause I saved your academics without even knowing. Don’t think I didn’t hear our teacher whispering ‘good job’ to you while returning our tests and how you suddenly moved up in our class rankings.”
“Well you didn’t bother to hide anything when you were snoozing away so whose fault really is it?”
“You were gonna leave for Spain, anyway!” you point out, remembering being pissed off when hearing the reason why your seatmate left was because he was some kind of sport prodigy, basically having his entire future as a star secured at the age of thirteen.
“My parents would’ve killed me and held me by my feet if I flunked.” Itoshi grimaced, kissing his teeth and brushing his hair back as it had fallen over his eyes. His cheeks had returned to its usual color, removing the red flush of running and exhaustion.
“Huh, I guess I should be credited for your success. Spain should thank me.”
“Are we forgetting that I’m the one who plays the sport?” Sae’s voice came out harsher than he intended and cut through the playful atmosphere by the first syllable. His demeanor appeared unchanged but he felt himself tense.
Conversation had never been strong for Sae, only ever talking when he needed to and the most of his words going to his teammates on the field or his little brother. His success was a sensitive subject whether he liked to admit it or not. Spain served as an eye-opener to the teenage boy, being left in a country where no one looked like you and no one spoke your language. The only thing he could rely on was a translator he barely trusted and the expressions of the people around him.
When you don’t respond, Sae observes your face, noticing how you began to fidget with your fingers just as you had when you first stepped out of the car. You weren’t his previous coaches; you were just a former classmate who he happened to run into, or rather, you drove into. It was too late to laugh and he felt slightly guilty at freaking out someone that wasn’t his brother, an opponent, or a bothersome news anchor.
“If you want to repay me for the ball, meet me at the sports store nearby.”
“Sorry, but I don’t really know where you’re talking about,” you sheepishly reply, wanting to sink more into the ground with every word. You decide that talking to athletes is more tiring than playing an actual sport.
“Give me your number, I’ll send you the address.”
You hand him your phone, hoping he doesn’t comment on the horrendously cracked screen protector that you had been telling yourself to replace for months. At the same time, you also want him to notice the small possibility of him offering to buy you a new one, taking advantage of rich people or whatever. “I can pick you up if you don’t mind.”
“Should I trust you to drive me?” he asks, carefully looking between you and your car with his turquoise eyes as if analyzing his opponents on a field, only, this was a residential street and the only other player was a balding middle aged man walking his dog.
“I mean, you’ll be my first passenger so you can find out for everyone else.”
“If I get into an accident I’ll sue you for real.”
“I’ll try not to, I don’t have a job anymore and I’m going to college soon so even if I do please be merciful I swear I have good intentions.”
“Pick me up tomorrow at 11 and I’ll give you a review,” he decides, handing over his phone with the contact ‘Sae Itoshi’ at the top of your phone and the name of a sports store sent to your conversation. You ponder for a moment about asking for a contact picture but you’d like to stay alive for at least one more day so you bid him farewell and sit back in the driver’s seat, hoping he doesn’t hate your taste in music when you turn the radio back on.
—
The Itoshi residence is rather normal, differing from your expectation of a lavish mansion with fountains and fences of gold, given that Sae was a famous athlete and his younger brother Rin was known throughout the prefecture for being a mini Sae. The previous night when you had just finished brushing your teeth, your phone screen illuminated with the presence of a new notification: a text from the older Itoshi.
>make sure you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow
>i’ll need to try each ball out
>you did this to yourself
>shitty driver
A jolt of pain had struck your pride, crumbling your ego at the realization that he was, unfortunately, right about needing to sacrifice your entire afternoon to babysit a (grown) stranger whom you haven’t talked to in years; those conversations were brief, lacking any substance to consider them actual conversations. For a moment, the thought of bailing on him had crossed your mind, the idea of leaving him stranded at his residence while you enjoyed a night in, marinating before a tumultuous college career seemed insatiably tempting.
Disaster struck when you Googled Sae Itoshi’s net worth, his bank account leading you right to his front doorstep.
“Don’t get into any car accidents,” Sae told you as he dipped his head down to step into the passenger’s side of your car. You were suddenly struck with a moment of insecurity; a wealthy athlete who could probably buy your family and your ancestor’s mummified corpses is sitting in your car and is probably rich enough to get away with murdering you for having half a particle of dust fall onto his lap.
You realized you zoned out when Sae cleared his throat, blinking a few times at you with an unamused expression and eyebrows furrowed in judgment. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, man. Just trying to remember the name of the place you mentioned. It’s a technique I use where if I think really hard in the same place I was when I thought of that thought, that thought I had thought of can reappear in my thoughtless mind.” You aren’t sure if you understand what you’re saying but you think you can get away with spouting bullshit if you use enough hand movements like a person on TedTalk.
“What the actual fuck are you saying?” Sae doesn’t seem to believe you but you’re an innovator—you simplify the problem down to something the average person (underling) can understand.
“Can you give me the address again..?”
“You’re a freak.”
Sae picks up your phone, which was opened to the navigator app, and quickly typed in the name of the sporting good’s shop he had mentioned the day before. It was a small place, smaller than you would expect a star athlete to go to for equipment but you suppose it makes sense at the same time: less people, less paparazzi, less crazed fans, and a selection of items picked specifically for trained athletes.
“So, uh, are you gonna make me pay for the ball too ‘cause I’m at least, like, five yen in student loan debt,” you sheepishly ask, hoping Sae can appreciate your humility in being a college student, taking a step forward in life by pursuing a higher education.
“How cheap are you?” Sae scoffs, letting out a sound that started off as half of a chuckle but ended as a constipated grunt, making him sound like a diseased lab-grown goat that was raised by war-stricken alien society. You think Sae should become an experimental musical artist if soccer doesn’t work out, sorta like a fucked up version of Björk who’s slightly less musically talented and a total cunt instead.
“I’m not cheap! I’m just curious. I brought my credit card just in case. I’m a responsible adult; this is all for budgeting and logging my payments or whatever else people do to save money.”
“You’re lucky you’re funny,” Sae comments as if it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world. For you though, you almost stepped on the breaks and begged him to repeat what he said. It would have been just another condescending compliment from anyone else but Sae Itoshi is notorious for not humoring anyone in the media and you quickly realized, even those in real life. Before you could doubt your memory, Sae opens his mouth again. “You lucked out on pretty privilege. All the bullshit you say would not slide if it came from any other person. I’m convinced the only social experience you have is talking to a mud wall.”
Any negative statement he had made went through one ear and directly out the other, keeping only the compliments for your brain to process. Without noticing, a giddy smile appeared on your face and to Sae, it was wildly masochistic the way you tolerated his foul personality and even relishing in his attention—no matter good or bad. He could almost pity you, deducing your attitude as a lack of self respect, but you somehow manage to surprise him every time.
“Nah, I think I had a lot of friends. I don’t know if we were actually friends but I knew their names so it’s probably good enough. Speaking of, there was this guy named Kota who I knew when I was seven and he seemed pretty cool until I caught him picking at his feet in the middle of class. Sometimes I wonder how he’s doing and if he’s still collecting foot gunk. But yeah, I think you’re just self projecting with the whole ‘no people, only soccer’ thing and moving to Spain with zero spanish skills. Damn, wait, that’s kinda sad. Shit, now I feel bad,” you take a look at Sae, searching for any sort of discomfort or offense but he simply shrugged.
“It’s whatever, they all bothered me anyways. I was there to play soccer, not make lifelong friends. It’s not like I’m gonna stay in Spain forever. I’m back in Japan to renew my passport ‘cause I know I’m gonna come back eventually.”
“You’ve already made a name for yourself and you’re making insane money that can last more than a lifetime for the average person once your contract is over. It’s not gonna be long before you get onto the Olympic team for Japan. When you do make it on, you better thank me for making sure you kept on playing by bringing you to buy a replacement for a ball I ran over.”
You drove into a parking lot with two other cars directly in front of the sports shop. The building was in the middle of a small plaza, adjacent to an udon shop and a bar. It was undoubtedly an odd place for a sports shop to be and that might have been what caught Sae’s eye in the first place. In the window display, a tennis racket and a pair of soccer cleats are put on display and on the glass door, countless advertisements for events and brands are taped on, each barely correlating to the others.
Right in the corner of the shop is the checkout where an elderly man sits, scribbling something in a beaten journal. There is a stack of newspapers behind him, every issue marked with highlighted annotations and then neatly folded as if it were untouched. Sae greeted the man and turned to find someone else, this time, being a younger man who appeared to be in his thirties or forties. He gave Sae a warm smile and shook his hand, not as a business partner, but as an acquaintance.
It’s here that you realize you’ll never be able to see the world the way Sae does. In your car he was just another boy in your neighborhood that you decided to get to know. But to others, he was Sae Itoshi, a prodigy who could conquer the world with just himself and a pair of cleats. Although his eyes are dimmed and his apathy anything but silent, his shine was lost to know one and when he boards a plane back to Spain while you settle into college, you think you’d be content calling him a shooting star.
Sae notices that you stopped following him and turns around in confusion, tilting his head to motion you to follow him. It takes a breath before you put your hands in the pocket of your jacket and tentatively follow him. It wasn’t until you walked into the store that you truly realized how out of place you felt and if it were just you and Sae, you might’ve thought to ask him what everything did. He’d call you a dense fuck and tell you that he plays soccer, that he doesn’t deal with anything else. You had even the smallest bit of shame so you kept your mouth shut and continued to trail after him, stealing glances at the stacked shelves until the employee came to a halt.
Before you was a wall, lined with four shelves of nothing but soccer balls, each decorated with the signatures of different brands and their series’.
“The guy said I can try them out in the back.” Sae tapped your shoulder and grabbed onto the fabric of your jacket, dragging you with him like a pet cat. “They have a lot of empty space there. You can help me carry everything I want to try.”
Agreeing turned out to be a mistake. In your arms you struggled to carry six different balls, with Sae dribbling one between his feet as the owner of the stop unlocked the door to the back where Sae would be testing things out. You felt like an overworked butler from some bad comic and in your head, you imagined yourself as a fainting princess—a damsel in distress being overworked by the evil kingdom in which she is supposed to be respected.
“Stop being dramatic,” Sae sighed, noticing your dejected pout and lost eyes. He could almost pity you if you didn’t look comically pathetic in the moment, almost adorable if he wanted to be slightly sentimental. “You can put them all down now. Just sit here and wait. Take a nap or something, you’ll be fine.”
The lack of standards you have would be an issue to address at a later date because the barely comforting words of the ever eloquent motivational speaker Sae Itoshi had you immediately perking up and cheering for him.
“Go! Go! You got this! Get that goal, ugly!”
“Who are you calling ugly? I could knock you out with this ball, you know. If you want to be supportive, don't be a freak.”
“Are you really gonna disrespect the only fan you have at the moment? What if I tweet about this and get you canceled or some shit?”
“Do you really think I care about that?”
“...no…”
“...”
“...”
“Whatever. Do what you want.”
“Kick that ball, little boy! You’re a prodigy! Number one soccer player in the world! Bend that net over!”
—
By the time Sae had finished shooting several goals and alternating dribbling between them at least five times, the sun had set and your throat was sore from bullshit cheering, half of which were incoherent sounds of moral support. Sae grabbed an unopened box of the ball he had chosen and denied a pump when offered one. When he placed the cardboard packaging onto the checkout table, your wallet was in your hand and ready to check out and pay off your debt to the Itoshi.
However, you were met with a receipt in your hand instead and a farewell from the owner, bidding you and Sae a happy rest of your day. You quickly turned your head toward Sae, mouth agape as your brain twitched, trying to process if he was fucking with you or not.
“Do you want me to pay you online or write a check or what? Wait, why did you pay? I thought I owed you it? My complaining earlier was all joking. I literally popped your old ball. The least I can do is pay for a new one!” You rant, quickly taking your phone out of your bag to open up your banking app but Sae was quicker to take your hand in his and bring it down to where it was before.
“And I was fucking with you too, dumbass. Or are you too stupid to remember back in the car how I didn’t respond to you asking if you needed to pay? Start listening, will you?”
“I think this is the meanest act of generosity I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m not being generous, I’m telling you that you owe me something else.”
“What the fuck?” You’re perplexed by the audacity of this man. You hope his athletic career flops and every brand deal that he has gotten offered drops him. “Are you gonna start charging me an insane amount of interest like a loan shark? Dude, aren’t you rich?”
“I’m not asking for money.”
“Then what is it?”
“Go on a date with me.”
“Are you being for real right now?” You’re still perplexed by the audacity of this man. You’re perplexed by how his words are chosen to form the most foul sentences with sweet meanings. You’re perplexed by how out of all who know him, and all whom he knows, he would take an interest in you. But you’re a selfish person—if Sae Itoshi is offering his beauty and his awful personality to you, then you’ll take it with all your heart.
You move to Sae’s side, putting everything in your hands into your bag and intertwining your fingers with his, a dumb smile planted on your face. As you skip to the car and swing your hands between the two of you, Sae Itoshi’s grin is highlighted by the golden glow of the setting sun.
He really can’t wait to come home.
#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi#blue lock x reader#blue lock sae#blue lock itoshi sae#bllk sae#bllk itoshi sae#bllk x reader#bllk fluff#bllk#blue lock#blue lock fluff#this fic is my farm fed organic almond baby
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tap out. simon 'ghost' riley
it didn't take a genius to know that simon riley, had been through hell. no family, close to no friends outside of his line of work. he was the shell of a man, a living ghost if you will; but people knew he was not one to be taunted or made fun of. sure he was a broken man, but he'd never take disrespect.
it did take a genius to know that you, had been through hell. no family, close to no friends outside of your line of work. you were quiet, always kept to yourself, never caused much trouble, unless you were on the field getting your hands dirty- bloody even. no one knew about your past, your story. but you liked it that way.
so, here you and ghost stood. arms behind your back, standing at ease, looking straight ahead.
as of right now, a common army tradition was ongoing, 'tap out' it was called, where the soldiers stood at ease as they waited for their loved ones to tap them out, letting them move, talk, interact with their family etc.
your gaze slowly shifted from the ground, to the families crying tears of happiness as they saw their son or daughter again after months or years of them being gone. mothers held their sons close to them, fathers cheered and praised their daughters for their accomplishments.
and you? well, you stood there, wishing to yourself, that maybe seeing your mother and father pass away was all a dream and that you'd see them walking over to you any minute, with wide smiles and excited cheers.
and ghost? well, he didn't care about the fact that no one was there to see him, to congratulate him; he cared that you, his closet friend since the beginning of training, was stood there. alone.
he didn't understand why, but he could probably guess. nonetheless, he watched as you uncomfortably shifted your weight from one foot to the other. he noticed you didn't want to be there, didn't want to have to listen to the laughs and 'hellos' of mothers and fathers.
ghost could relate, he let out a deep sigh; letting his arms drop to his side, he moved from his spot. he knew full well that he was breaking rules but as of now, he didn't care. not one bit. he walked over to you, eyes meeting with yours almost instantly.
"come on, luv." he said, as comforting as he possibly could. he raised his hand to your shoulder, officially tapping you out. he could see the hurt in your eyes.
"thanks, si" he nodded as you thanked him, he felt horrible knowing your pain.
you let your hands come to your sides, subconsciously, you started to fidget. your rough fingertips played with the hem of your t-shirt. "its not fair that they make us do this.." you said softly, head hanging low, watching your feet as you both walked back into the base, knowing you had nothing better to do.
"mhm" is all ghost said as he looked down at you, clearly seeing your defeated mood. "i wouldn't dwell on it, sweetheart. i know what your thinking" you nodded, not really bothered to speak. you appreciated ghost walking with you though, keeping you company.
"your family is here now, us, me...soap, gaz, price. the whole force, your brothers, your sisters" ghost spoke. you knew he was right, you got along incredibly well with the members of Task Force 141, there were many years full of core memories with the lot of them.
like the time when you and soap got bored one night so you snuck out of the base and found yourselves at a water bank, completely soaked from jumping in. you both laughed uncontrollably as you splashed one another.
or even when you and price sat in his office, having a deep conversation about previous missions, his past, life in general. you two agreed that you had bonded, ending the night with a simple hug.
or that time when you and gaz decided to go a nearby bar, its safe to say that you both got absolutely hammered from the mixed alcohol in your system. you laughed with one another as you stumbled back to base, holding onto one another. laughing even harder as price and soap caught you in your drunken state.
or...or even the time with ghost.
when you two lay on his dishevelled bed, your back to his chest, his arm lazily thrown around your waist, holding you against him for comfort. his hand traced the scars on your waist, your hips, your legs. you stared out the window, smiling to yourself. nothing serious had happened...you both just adored the company of one another, which is why you found yourself falling asleep to the feeling his breaths on your shoulder, and his hand caressing your skin. "you okay?" he had asked you, moving to lie on his back. you had turned to face him. smiling when you saw him already looking at you, his arm rest behind his head. "mhm, always" you had softly spoke.
you smiled to yourself as you finally walked into the base, simon still by your side. "yeah..you're right" you said looking up at the large man. he happened to look down at you, you swear you could see him smile beneath his mask.
"i know..."
lemme know if you guys would like a pt. 2 :)
#call of duty#fanfic#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost cod#ghost x you#ghost x reader#task force 141#fluff#cute#cutie patootie
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Picking Sides
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Cas & Winchester sister, Jody & Winchester sister, Mary & Winchester sister (all obviously platonic)
Synopsis: you get in a fight with Mary, and when Sam and Dean take sides you go to find someone to be on your side.
Warnings: feelings of abandonment, angst with a happy ending
You were hiding again. These days, it felt like you were always hiding. The bunker used to feel like home, but that home got smaller and smaller until the only place that truly felt like a sanctuary was your bedroom.
It didn’t feel fair to think that the arrival of your brothers’ mom took away your home, but that’s how you felt nonetheless. You wanted to be happy for them more than anything—your big brothers were everything to you, and they got back someone they had lost, someone they loved.
But that someone just so happened to look at you and see only the result of her husband with another woman. You knew it had to hurt—from her memory, it must feel like she’d last seen John only months ago, even though it had been over twenty years. So seeing his daughter—the one he had with another woman—being treated like family by her boys…that had to hurt. You understood that hurt, and you felt sorry for Mary because of it. But what you didn’t understand was why she had to make you hurt with her. Maybe she didn’t mean to—you couldn’t believe the worst about Sam and Dean’s mom, you just couldn’t—but it felt like she never wanted you there. And that disdain was starting to affect Sam and Dean. They could tell when their mom wasn’t happy, and it put them on edge. Because of that, tensions just kept rising until finally you decided that hiding out away from the common areas was best for everyone when Mary was around.
This strategy worked out well back when Mary wasn’t around much, but she’d been hanging around the bunker a lot more now, and it just wasn’t working. You couldn’t be in your room all the time, but any time you bumped into Mary the two of you seemed to get into a fight about something. Today was no different.
You only ventured out to get some food from the kitchen—but of course Mary had to be there.
“Where have you been?” She questioned, though she kept her voice low.
“Just my room,” you mumbled as you started to assemble a sandwich.
“The boys could’ve used your help, you know. They’re doing a lot of research.”
“I’ve got a laptop, I’m doing my own research.” You tried not to sound too snarky, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it came out that way…just a little.
“Well it would make things a lot easier if you’d join the group,” Mary chided. At this, you scoffed—you couldn’t help it.
“Like you even want me as part of the family,” you challenged.
“I said group, not family. You’re not family,” she insisted, her tone still neutral and her voice still low. Something about her trying to keep this horrible conversation nice and quiet just made you want to scream it all the louder. Unfortunately, you did it at the wrong moment.
“Says the one who hasn’t been here for twenty years! Don’t pretend you’re more of a family to Sam and Dean than I am!”
“Hey now!” Dean’s voice snapped you out of your anger for a split second, and turned it to shock—you didn’t know he was so nearby. “That’s enough!” He directed his anger towards you—of course he hadn’t heard Mary’s words.
“But I was just—“ you began, but Dean didn’t let you get far.
“I don’t care what you were doing, I heard enough! Now I think you should go to your room.”
You took a deep breath, desperate to tell your side.
“But you didn’t hear—“
“I heard enough!” Dean was yelling now, and his sudden rise in anger had you taking a surprised step back. “Now go to your room! You’ve done enough damage.”
“B-but De—“
“I said go! And don’t you come out. I’ll come get you when I think you’ve had enough time to think about what kind of consequence your words have. Go!”
It wasn’t often that Dean looked so tall—he was always the “short one” compared to Sam. But now—looming over you like the shadow of a mountain, nothing but anger written on his features—no one had ever looked bigger, and you had never felt smaller. Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more pathetic, you felt tears start to prick behind your eyes. You twisted around and ran for your room before Dean could see them.
You made sure you were well behind your door with the lock in place before you felt safe enough to let the tears fall.
…
Mary was silent as she watched you run. There was a cacophony of thoughts banging around in her head, and it was so distracting that it took a moment for her to hear Dean talking to her.
“Mom? Mom?” Dean was right in front of her when she finally snapped out of it. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what’s been going on with her lately, but she shouldn’t have said that to you. I’ll talk to her.”
But Mary didn’t want that. In fact, she felt sick to her stomach. Ever since she had learned about your existence, she had felt almost in competition with you. Somehow, you being the result of John’s relationship with another woman made Mary feel as though you were somehow responsible for it, or complacent with it. Deep down she knew that that was wrong, but she couldn’t help the feelings. So instead, she had been justifying them, and using those feelings as an excuse for how she was trying to win the boys’ affection over you.
But just now, she had seen you for what you really were—not competition for her sons’ affections, not some sick reminder of John’s love being given to someone else taunting her; no. She had seen a scared little girl being rejected and reprimanded by her big brother and father figure, and it had been Mary’s fault.
“No, Dean…” Mary sighed. “I wish you hadn’t done that. She didn’t deserve it.”
Dean was confused. “But she—“
“I said some things to her that…well, let’s just say I deserved what she said. I mean it Dean, I screwed up, not her.”
Dean looked torn for a moment—after all, the only part he had heard were some awful words on your part—but then the scene replayed in his mind, and he saw you; your hands were shaking, your lip was quivering, and Dean had just kept on yelling.
“Oh man,” Dean sighed. “I need to talk to her.”
…
You didn’t let the tears fall long before you made a decision; you couldn’t stay here. You could deal with Mary not wanting you here, but you couldn’t deal with your brothers choosing her over you. That was the last straw.
You had a bag packed far too quickly, and you found yourself lingering in your room, trying to find an excuse not to go. This was your home—you didn’t want to leave.
Then an image of Dean screaming at you flashed in your mind—
“I said go! And don’t you come out.”
This wouldn’t be a one-time thing—it couldn’t. Dean had picked Mary over you, and it would only get worse. You had to go.
You slung your bag over your shoulder and went straight for the door.
“Hey.” Sam’s voice broke your stride for a moment, but you didn’t stop. “Hey, where are you going?”
“Out for a walk,” you huffed.
“I thought Dean told you to stay in your room,” Sam challenged. You froze for a moment.
“You heard?” You asked, hope sparking in the back of your mind. Maybe Sam would be on your side!
“Not everything,” Sam admitted. “But enough. I think you should stay in your room.”
Disappointment didn’t begin to cover what hit you then—Sam, taking Mary’s side too, without even knowing the whole story!
“And I think you should mind your own business,” you grumbled, going out and slamming the door behind you.
…
There was a cab waiting for you—you’d called one while you were packing—so you were already being carried away from the bunker by the time Sam followed you out the door.
The cab took you as far as the bus station, and from there you got on the first bus that would take you to Sioux Falls—to Jody.
You’d been praying to Cas since you’d left, but he must’ve been busy in heaven or something, because he hadn’t come. So Jody’s it was.
…
“I was wondering if you were going to show up.” Jody’s greeting when you arrived on her doorstep was less than conventional.
“What?” You questioned as she let you into the living room.
“Your brothers have been calling me every ten minutes for the past two hours, hoping you’d find your way over here. They’re worried about you.”
“I don’t know why,” you muttered under your breath, but Jody caught it.
“What do you mean you don’t know? Those boys worry over you like mother hens, they always have.”
“Not lately,” came your dull response. “Lately Mary’s more important.”
“Hey, now that isn’t fair,” Jody argued. “They just got her back from the dead. Just because their attention is a little divided—“
“It’s not that.” You huffed. “She doesn’t want me around. And they’re starting to take her side. They used to treat me like their sister, and now they…” you cleared your throat, blinking fast suddenly. “And now they treat me like…just John’s illegitimate kid. And I know that’s what I am, I just…I never felt it before.”
“Wait, kid…” Jody sighed, her hands coming up to hold onto your shoulders. “Kid, that is not who you are. You are so much more than that, and I’m sure if we talk to Sam and Dean, they’ll—“
“No,” you insisted, starting to panic. “I don’t want to talk to them right now, I just can’t. Please, you can’t tell them I’m here.”
“They’re gonna call again,” Jody said.
“You can’t—“
“Y/N.” You were interrupted by a flutter of wings and the deep voice of your favorite angel. “I heard you, what’s wrong?”
“Cas.” Your panic ebbed as you lurched forwards and wrapped your arms around Castiel. He held you close, quick to ask again—
“What’s wrong, what happened?”
“She ran away,” Jody spoke up. “Problems with Mary.”
“Oh, little one…” Cas sighed. “You—“
“Don’t tell me to go back!” You said as you pulled away from Cas. “You haven’t been here, you don’t know what it’s been like!”
“They’re your brothers,” Cas argued.
“But they don’t want to be. They want their legitimate family, and I’m not gonna get in the way anymore.”
“Hey.” Cas bent down to better look at you. “What makes you say that?”
“They just took her side.” You found it suddenly hard to speak around the lump in your throat. “De just-just took her side without even asking me what happened. He screamed at me, I’ve never-I’ve never seen him so angry before. He wanted me to go away, so-so I went. And Sammy didn’t even know what happened either, but he took her side too!”
“What did happen?” Cas asked gently.
You shook your head, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Cas reached down and hooked his fingers under your chin, tilting your downturned head up to look at him.
“It matters to me.”
Your lip was quivering and your hands were shaking by the time the first tears fell.
“She said that I’m not family. I mean I-I always knew she didn’t want me around, but…” you swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to stifle your tears. “But she’s never been this mean before. She said I’m not family, Cas. And Sam and Dean took her side.”
“They agreed with her?” Cas’s face was scrunched slightly in confusion.
“N-no,” you admitted. “But when I tried to argue with her, Dean yelled at me.”
“You should talk to them,” Cas suggested. “I’m sure that’s not what he meant.”
“I don’t want to talk to them. Cas, please,” you pleaded.
“Alright, alright,” Cas relented. He was going to make you talk it out with your brothers…later. Right now you were too angry, too hurt. You just needed someone you could trust, and Cas would be that for you for as long as you needed before he could fix your relationship with your brothers.
“They’re going to keep calling,” Jody spoke up.
“Don’t answer, please,” you begged.
“Then they’ll just come here,” Jody said.
“I’ll talk to them if you don’t want to,” Cas said. “Please let me talk to them. I know we can fix this.”
You were silent for a moment, letting yourself process before you spoke.
“I don’t want to see them right now.”
“Then you won’t,” Cas promised. “Just let me talk to them.”
“Ok,” you sighed after another long moment. “But…Cas? Can you…will you…please just don’t take their side,” you pleaded. “Maybe it’s not fair to ask, I just…I just need someone on my side.”
“I’m on your side,” Cas assured you. “Always.”
…
“They’re here.” Jody’s announcement had you more nervous than you thought you’d be. The fear that Dean might yell at you again—this time for running away and disobeying him—was suddenly very real.
It was weird to be afraid of your big brother; it was unnatural for you. But you couldn’t get the image of him screaming at you out of your head, neither could you get the feelings it gave you to go away.
“Y/N?” You snapped out of your thoughts to see Cas standing in front of you. “I’m going to go talk to them, alright?”
You glanced out the window, hoping the sight of your big brothers might somehow give you a different—better—memory to focus on. Instead, you saw a third figure exiting the Impala with the boys; Mary.
“They brought Mary.” Your voice came out barely above a whisper, but still Cas heard and turned to look out the window.
“I’m going to talk to them,” he repeated, only this time his tone was devoid of comfort and filled with rage.
…
“You should wait in the car.” Cas directed his order at Mary, who looked taken aback.
“I came to—“
“If you value your immediate safety, do what I said.”
Mary retreated to the Impala without another word.
“What was that?” Dean demanded. He hadn’t heard Cas talk like that in long time—unless it was to a demon.
“Don’t question me,” Castiel barked. “Not after what you did. And especially not after you brought her—��� Castiel gestured towards the impala, where Mary was waiting— “here. Do you know what she said to your little sister?”
“I don’t—“ Dean began, but Castiel interrupted him.
“No, you don’t, because you didn’t ask. You didn’t get her side, you just yelled at her.”
“And I’m trying to fix it,” Dean said.
“Well she doesn’t want to talk to you.” Castiel crossed his arms in front of him, all but blocking the doorway. “You did that, Dean. Your own little sister is too scared to talk to you, because she thinks you’ll yell at her again. She thinks you’ll pick Mary over her—again.”
“Cas, c’mon,” Dean pleaded. “I want to tell her I’m sorry. Just let me talk to her.”
“I already told you��she doesn’t want to.” Cas left no room for argument.
“Look,” Dean sighed. “Just tell her I need to talk to her. Tell her—“
“Tell her I’m sorry.” Both Dean and Cas turned at the sound of Mary’s voice as she stepped out of the Impala. “Please Castiel. Tell her I was wrong, and that I’m sorry.”
Cas stared at Mary long and hard before seemingly coming to a decision.
“Come with me.” Cas led them into Jody’s house, but stopped them firmly in the living room. “Stay right here. I’m going to go talk to her.”
Cas’s departure brought silence into the house for several long seconds.
“Do you mean it?” Dean’s sudden question threw Mary for a moment.
“What?”
“The apology. Do you mean it? Because on the off chance that she actually lets us in there, and you get to say that apology, you’ve gotta mean it, because she’s going to know.”
Mary was silent for a moment.
“I do mean it. Look, things have been…hard for me. I know to you guys, your father had years to mourn me before your little sister happened. But for me—it feels like I just woke up, and suddenly I find out my husband had a child with another woman. It feels so wrong; but I know that it isn’t Y/N’s fault, and I know that I was wrong to blame her for it. And I see how close the two of you boys are to her—and how close she is to you; that’s going to have to be enough for me. So yes, I do mean my apology—I truly was wrong.”
“Ok.” Your voice startled mother and son, who both whirled to face you.
“Ok?” Mary asked tentatively.
“Well, no,” you amended. “It’s not ok. But I do forgive you.”
“Understood,” Mary said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “And thank you.”
“Things can’t stay the same,” you continued. “I can’t be treated like an outsider in my own family anymore.”
“I understand that too,” Mary promised. “Things will change—I will change them—I promise.”
“Ok then.” You sighed, your eyes flickering over to Dean. The silence went from contemplative to awkward very quickly.
“I’m going to go wait in the car,” Mary said quietly, slipping out the front door to give you and Dean some private time.
“That went well,” Dean said awkwardly.
“Don’t make jokes,” you commanded.
“I’m sorry.”
“You hurt me.” You forced your gaze not to waver as you confronted your big brother. “Not just because you yelled at me; because you picked her side without even listening to me. It was like I didn’t even matter.”
“Y/N—“
“No. It’s my turn now. It’s not just Mary that has to make things better at the bunker. I-I can’t live with being walked over or ignored because you guys choose her. I know she’s your mom, and I would never, ever ask you to choose me over her. But she would, and she has. And you’ve picked her. And that hurts, De.” The tears in your eyes were threatening to fall, but you refused to let that stop you. “It really, really hurts.”
“Sweetheart…” you were in Dean’s arms before you could even think about protesting—not that you wanted to. It felt like it had been forever since his arms had been around you—since you had felt so truly at home. “N/N I’m so, so sorry. I’m not gonna let that happen again, ever. Even if Mary goes back on her promise, and she doesn’t change things, I will. I’m not gonna let anybody walk over you again. You’re important to me—I’m never going to let anyone tell me to choose someone over you, never. I know that doesn’t take back what I did—what I said to you—but…but can you forgive me anyway?”
Your grip tightened on Dean, and he didn’t try to pull away.
“Of course I forgive you.”
“So…” you let Dean pull away from you, but he kept hold of your hands. “So you’ll come home? Sammy’s waiting with some ice cream and another apology for you.”
You giggled, wiping the remaining tears off of your cheeks.
“Yeah. Yeah I’ll come home.”
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee
#the winchesters#dean winchester#dean and sam#supernatural dean#sam winchester#winchesters x sister#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#winchesters x reader#sam winchester x reader#dean winchester x little sister#dean winchester x sister!reader#dean winchester x sister#sam winchester x little sister#sam winchester x sister!reader#sam winchester x you#spn sam winchester#supernatural sam winchester#sam x sister!reader#supernatural
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Halsin and abandonment issues
One thing I've come to conclude about Halsin's character, based on many parts of his story and some lines he says, is that he might have abandonment issues.
To begin with: he lost his entire family over the years to accidents and disease, per his writer. That's the kind of thing that leaves deep scars- watching everyone you love fade away over years, until at a "comparatively young age" you're the last of your family and turned over to the Druids to be taken care of. (His writer didn't specify an age, but if he was young enough to be "turned over to the Druids" instead of "finding his way there" then it is likely he was not an adult.) There's no time to lose your family that isn't absolutely horrible, but as a young person is far, far worse.
Then there's Halsin's other traumas, all of which involve isolation; he was a prisoner for three years in the Underdark, and despite this, no one thought to come looking for him to save him. He lost most of his fellow Druids in the battle against Ketheric Thorm and the Shadow Curse that followed- and what few didn't die, he still lost their friendship to his leadership position, the "weight of responsibility". His one lasting friend in all of this, Thaniel, was lost to the curse and Halsin spent over 100 years blaming himself, fighting to be the best leader he could at the Grove, and having no one at all he could lean on for any of his burdens. And then he wound up kidnapped again, this time by the goblins, and when he returns, almost all his Druids have been turned against him, some even holding him in contempt. All experiences that are isolating in nature and reinforce to him that he can't rely on anyone else, that he is the only person he can depend on, and that in the end, everyone he cares for is going to leave or die.
It's not just speculation that he feels that way, either. He has several lines about his survivor guilt and isolation:
"[...] there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time."
"[...] Grim as it is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory. I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost."
And lines that indicate he's used to being left, too.
If the player rejects him after he wildshapes (emphasis mine):
"Ah, I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then."
Saying "of course" implies it's not entirely unexpected.
After the final battle, if the player declines to have a celebration and says the party should split up:
"It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..."
He was expecting the party not to stick together.
Similarly, if a love-interest player breaks up with him in the ending:
"I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless. But that just means what we shared was precious, and will live on in my memory. Thank you - I am a richer man for having met you."
The "nothing lasts forever" really sells it, to me, especially because the context makes it clear that he isn't just making a general statement- he's talking about relationships and people. Again- he was expecting it all to end.
His worry in the epilogue, when a solo-romanced player comes to the party with him, hints at this even more: "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me."
He's surprised that the player, even if they're in love, would want to live with him and share his dream. He can't believe they really wanted that- he even says that he keeps expecting to "stir from the dream".
I feel like that shows a lot about how Halsin feels after all the loss he's endured- he doesn't ultimately believe anyone is going to stay with him, whether because they choose to leave him, or because they'll die.
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𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 | hnk
kai thinks you deserve better... maybe someone like him.
✥ genre: bestfriend!Kai x gn reader, soft fluff and a pinch of angst, 800+ words
✥ warnings: mentions of infidelity
✥ song rec: Boyfriend -- Big Time Rush
Wrapped up in Kai's silky blue bedsheets, you were mourning the loss of your last relationship which just so happened to end the same day. Immediately after being broken up with, you asked Kai if you could stay over to be distracted; there was no way you would stay in your room, haunted by the many gifts and memories that were made. Although it was on such short notice, the boy agreed nonetheless, hoping that his presence could somehow make things better. He picked up some chicken noodle soup, a comfort meal that may not be the cure to heartbreak but could ease your heart and health a little bit.
Shivering, you cuddled up next to Kai and his many plushies. You relished in his natural warmth as though he was a teddy bear. Silently he let you lay against his arm, immediately drawing circles on the top of your head. You hummed, his presence easing the blow of the breakup from earlier. The only thing that could be heard was your breaths over the shuffling of the bedsheets, but Kai didn't mind. He liked when you cuddled, something that had come to a standstill since you started dating your horrible ex of a significant other.
Yes, Kai wasn't afraid to say it, always speaking his mind whenever your old significant other came up. From the moment you two met, he disapproved, buying into your ex's reputation more than getting to know the person themselves. Plus, he didn't appreciate that you couldn't be as close to him since it'd look weird to the outside world and your ex. Time didn't soften Kai's opposition from your significant other and he always hated them for who they seemed to be. So when you came to him, crying that your ex hadn't been faithful for a long while, he wasn't exactly surprised. But did he say that?
He was unable to criticize your choices in people as you curled closer to his chest, enjoying his comfort. He smiled quietly while you sighed, intentionally ignoring the soup that was specifically bought for you. He may have forgotten to get some food in your system but only because you were physically close to him again like one of his plushies. He also didn't care that you could possibly get sick, willing to become ill as well as long as it meant you felt better from a horrible predicament. It seemed as though you belonged right there in his lap, perfectly molded for your resting and whenever you needed him. If anything, Kai was made for you; how could you not realize that?
Your eyelashes fluttered as you looked up at him, a frown on your face. Probably delirious from the heartbreak and the new cold you were getting (your ex thought it was a good idea to break up with you as soon as possible, even if that meant in the rain), you tugged on the ends of Kai's soft blue hoodie. He looked at you very confused but attentive to whatever you needed. If you wanted him to spin 10 times even if he became dizzy, he would do it. If you wanted him to grab your favorite drink even though it was 30 minutes, he would do it. He waited for whatever you were going to say, gazing at you expectantly.
Your voice faltered as you asked softly, "am I unloveable?"
Kai, now frowning, shook his head. Rage boiled in his blood, flowing through his fingers as he stopped combing your hair. Did your ex make you feel like that? His throat felt parched, too angry that you out of anyone else would be feeling like that. No one should be feeling that, much less you, his best friend that he had come to admire so much.
"Of course not. You deserve so much better, Y/N."
Although you knew that Kai was just trying to cheer you up as your best friend, you couldn't help but feel that it was a lie. Your self-love and confidence was at an all-time low, plummeting to where you assumed it would never recover. You weren't going to pester your best friend for more reassurance though, knowing that he would probably find it annoying- your insecurity and issues that came from a relationship he never approved.
Kai, studying your crestfallen expression, wanted to do whatever to make you feel better. He thought that his words were good at the moment but of course, they were only bandages that covered deep wounds. He looked away, too embarrassed to look you in the eye. His thoughts were rather scandalous, not something that a best friend should think. All the while, he cupped your cheek gently, making you look at him.
You watched him, face heating up as he spoke quietly.
"You deserve better," he paused before rubbing his thumb delicately on your cheek, "maybe... maybe someone like me."
Released: July 6, 2024 (4:28pm CT)
Thoughts: bro I literally need hyuka to comfort me about my cheating ex 😒 I want to be wrapped up in his sheets with him holding me while his plushies watch 😭😭😭 delulu hours open it seems… ALSO LOOK AT HOW FINE HE IS IN THE PICTURES LIKE WTH HYUKA 😞
Tags:
#txt fluff#txt angst#txt reactions#txt scenarios#txt imagines#txt ff#hueningkai angst#hueningkai fluff#hueningkai imagines#hueningkai scenarios#hueningkai x reader#hueningkai ff#hueningkai fanfic#txt fanfic
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Hi! I saw your requests are open, so could you please do a Jinx x fem! Reader where the reader gets hurt badly after a fight (maybe after episode 6?) and almost dies? How would Jinx react? And make it angsty and fluffy please. Thank you! 🩵
a/n: aaa i didn't know if you wanted yandere or not but i did it anyways, i am very sorry if you didn't want yan!jinx. i didn't know if you meant season one or two but to be honest i couldn't remember anything anyways so this is just a made up fight! hope you dont mind <3
❝yandere!jinx x fem!reader getting injured❞
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Believe it or not, Jinx drops everything once she notices you are hurt, especially if it is critical. Of course, if she is distracted by the fighting and adrenaline of a fight, it might take her awhile to notice until you collapse or the fight is over. I imagine pre-shimmer Jinx would be more attentive and notices if you are hurt even a bit.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But basically, she drops everything and would rush to your side nonetheless. She will kneel by your side, assessing your injuries. Oh god, that is a lot of blood. Since when did you have so many wounds?
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Thousands of thoughts swarm around her head. She is so scared of losing you, she can't lose another person she loves. She just can't. Voices of her adoptive brother's voice ring through her head and even Silco's. Saying things like how she just hurts everyone around her, this was bound to happen eventually. No wonder Vi didn't want her to come on the mission. She's a jinx.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Thankfully, the marching and yells of incoming enforcers awakens her from her delusions. She scoops you in her arms pretty easily and rushes home to save you.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But as she is racing away with you in tow, she looks down seeing your colored eyes begin to gloss over and droop, your skin getting colder and colder. No.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Without much thought she rushes you to Singed. He helped Silco save her, why couldn't he now?
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Once you fully awaken you are not the same. The surgery was a success but your mind feels almost split into two. Your mind conjured the most horrible memories and distorted them into something worse. But Jinx was beside you through all of it.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You find your head laying in Jinx's lap, her painted nails twirling some strands of your hair between her fingers. She notices you, "Oh! You're awake!" She jumps and sit you upright. She is smiling but something in her face makes you believe she is worried, worried for you. Her motions are more jittery than usual.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She brings you a small makeup compact excitedly and open it up, showing your reflection through the small mirror. Your eyes were not the same color anymore. Instead they were a magenta color, something unnatural and not you. It almost reminds you of— "Now we match!" Jinx exclaims excitedly, as if you'd be happy.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "What did you do to me, Jinx?" You focus your gaze back onto her, feeling anger rising in your bones.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Jinx scrunches her face, "What did I do? I saved you!" she says, practically snarling at your accusatory tone. She stands, throwing the makeup compact harshly at you.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "You were going to bleed out in my arms so quit looking me like I'm some.. some monster!" Her voice breaks on the last note, showing her insecurity. You knew all about Jinx's past, about Vi.. Vander. You promised to never do the same thing to her.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You take a deep breath in. reassessing your situation. Yes, you were.. different but you were fine, right? Your wound were gone and in fact, you felt more alive than before. More hyper-aware, like you are a fresh eyed baby seeing the world new again.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "I'm.. I'm sorry, Jinx. I just feel so confused.. and different." You hunch over, cradling your own head in your arms.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Jinx's look pities, all tension disappearing at the sight of your struggle. She knew exactly what it felt like, how violating it felt.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She kneels down in front of you, looking up and gently removing your hands from your face. "I know, I know what you must feel. But I promise. . I wouldn't have done it if I didn't have no other choice. Please."
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You lean down, pressing your forehead to Jinx's in an act of understanding and. . affection. "I believe you, thank you for saving me. We will get through this together, okay?" Jinx nods hurriedly, her eyes all wide and thankful.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 The rest of that day was spent with lots of cuddles and talking, maybe this new you wasn't that bad as long as you have Jinx.
a/n: why was this kind of a soft yandere for jinx? oh well. . it was really cute!! i hope you enjoyed :3
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere headcanons#arcane#yandere arcane#yandere drabble#yandere hcs#yandere jinx#jinx arcane#soft yandere#willing darling
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the air that i breathe | ellie williams
˗ˏˋ "because i can make it quick, or i could make it so much worse." ´ˎ˗
synopsis: a camping trip you and ellie embark on takes a devastating turn. with you in the hands of raiders ellie's sanity is brought to her breaking point and she will stop at nohting to get you back. wordcount: 8.3k + warnings: 18+ ellie n readers headspace is very dark!! depression, panic attacks, horrible desperation, and lots of trauma responses that are vividly described. graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping, reader is confined in a cell by chains, food/water deprivation, hallucinations, torture (reader by raiders, ellie to the raiders) ellie is basically santa barabra ellie but multiply it by thirty n reader is like trapped in the dark so i think that counts as claustrophobia. this fic can b very triggering so pls take the tags seriously!! different povs (ellie n reader) they are seperated for most of this fic, theres some fluff in their dreams but thats truly as soft as it gets author note: pls pls read me!! this story came to me randomly, its not a traditional fic in my eyes but i hope u guys like it nonetheless!! the name comes from the show bridgerton, one of violets lines towards her husband and i was like THAT is true love so here we are :) theres a lot of in game elements to this story on ellie's part so i hope i did that justice :)) i'm a lil nervous to post this im ngl so pls be kind and lmk if yall like it plsssss i beg of u i wanna make this a multi part fic esp w the way it ends so any feedback will be appreciated!! ily guys enjoy
ellie’s pov
– three days after the kidnapping
the first thing ellie hears is the low, familiar voices of joel and tommy. as their mumbled conversation rings through her ears, her head throbs. a groan escapes her lips, bringing her hand up weakly to rub it as if it would help. ellie opened her eyes slowly, the pain intensifying from the sun shining through the windows. her vision came to focus, looking around it was the infirmary in jackson. she was laid down in one of the beds and when her eyes landed on joel and tommy, they looked at her sympathetically.
joel took small steps toward her, barely able to make eye contact. “how ya feelin’ kiddo?” he asked, painfully sitting himself down at the end of her bed. ellie wasn’t able to read him clearly, and then she started thinking. why am i in this bed? her mind raced and it must’ve been obvious to her company because joel spoke again. “it’s gonna be okay.”
she frantically searched through her foggy mind, everything was so blurry and out of order. she thought of you. the only thing that came to the front of her mind with ease. the camping trip, she thought to herself. she saw you in her head, all bundled up in the sleeping bag and wearing ellie’s shirt. her lips began to curl at the ends before she realized you weren’t here by her bedside. she remembers leaving the tent that night, for what reason she doesn’t know, but you stayed behind, cuddled up in the sleeping bag.
thats when– your scream. it echoed in her head, taunting her. the quiet forest that surrounded the two of you amplified your terrified scream and ellie’s face grimaced at the memory. she knows she ran to you, why was i so far away from you? her brain was waking up and with it, horrible images flashed in front of her. the tent that had been cut open, the rusty old pick-up truck, the men that had you in their grasp, the last glance ellie had of you before the bud of a gun was slammed into her head. it all came flooding back in an instant.
ellie looked up at joel, tears brimming over her eyes. she spoke in a low voice, but despite the tears that fought to fall, her tone was flat. “where is she?”
joel was quick to answer, “we’ve been tracking them–”
“how long have i been out?” she boomed, trying to sit up but her brain pounded against her skull, forcing her back down in the bed. joel moved up, sitting closer to her but couldn’t find the words, his heart ached for ellie. he looked to tommy with a solemn expression, and his little brother stepped forward.
“it’s been three days, ellie,” tommy vocalized softly. “we’re doin’ all we can, i promise.”
“obviously it’s not fucking enough!” ellie shouted, pinching the bridge of her nose and shutting her eyes tight. you came to mind when she did, usually she pictures you happily; picking a flower and tucking in her hair, taking a nap on ellie’s couch with your head in her lap, posing while she drew you. you were the spitting image of innocence in her mind. but as her eyes shut now, all she could see was the absolutely heart-wrenching image of your face as you were thrown into the truck.
her eyes opened almost immediately, unable to see it even for a second longer. her cheeks became wet as the tears poured out of her, her breathing became erratic and she clutched her chest. joel was quick to comfort her but it only did so little. “we-we have to fi-find her,” ellie managed to speak through panicked breaths, feeling her chest about to burst.
the pain in her head was nothing compared to this, and it almost felt non-existent in the face of you being gone. being with them. whoever they are, whatever they want with you. they should have taken me. it should have been me. it should have been me. it should hav–
“ellie, breath–” joel cooed next to her, rubbing her back and removing her from her thoughts. “we’ll find her.”
“i’m co-coming with you,” her chest was still heaving and she felt like she’d never breathe right again. not until you were standing next to her.
tommy sighed, barely audible over ellie’s apparent panic-attack. “you’re on bed rest, kid. i’m sorry. but we will bring her back to you.”
his words felt like daggers and she was quick to respond. “if you think for one sec–”
“it’s not up for discussion, ellie.” joel interjected, his voice was soft but stern. and ellie scoffed through the tears, looking at joel harshly.
before ellie could spew a rant to him, tommy spoke, “we think they’re on the border of utah. were going tomorrow at first light and when we come back she will too. okay?”
ellie’s thoughts were a jumbled mess, and as her breathing became somewhat normal she was able to think. play it cool. “o-okay,” let them think i won’t go anywhere. “my head r-really hurts. gonna sleep for now,” she mumbled, pulling the blanket up and over her head. she laid with her back turned to them and she felt the bed move beside her. joel and tommy mumbled another string of words to each other before ellie heard the door creek open.
“rest up, kiddo. she’s gonna be okay.” joel said to her sympathetically and ellie remained quiet under her covers, plotting her escape.
she slept for another few hours. she knew she had to wait until night time anyway, there was no use in staying awake and plaguing her thoughts with what is happening to you. but as she slept her mind played horrible tricks on her, she dreamt of saving you that night. brutally slaying the men who had dared to even think about touching you, their blood stained her dreams but at the end of it you were in her arms.
when she woke up alone, her reality came crashing back down. it forced her to sit up, ignoring her head that was killing her slowly. there was no night time infirmary nurse and she knew now was her only opportunity to sneak away. the clock on the pale blue walls read one in the morning, jackson was asleep. the only people she would need to avoid were night patrols, and the guards around the armory.
she hauled herself out of bed, her feet dragging on the cold floor and she located her bag. her clothes from the camping trip were tucked inside and she quickly changed. ellie tried to picture the men’s faces, and all that came to her were figures whisking you away. she decided it was best to not think about it, but it was a lot easier said than done and she found herself shaking her head frequently to rid the images from her mind.
slipping out of the infirmary was easy, a small house on the corner of a dead end street. the streetlamps had been turned off by now, saving power and ellie easily made her way towards the armory. she approached in a crouch, hiding behind a bush in the shadows. she watched as the guards were laughing, telling stories and all around not paying attention. the armory was a larger building near the stables, the guards were circled around a makeshift booth at the front.
sneaking to the side of the building she tugged open a window and crawled inside. she loaded herself with her usual rifle that she took on patrols. taking it down from the wall she stared at it for too long, remembering the day she taught you how to shoot.
“all you have to do is point, aim and–”
“if you say point, aim and fire one more time.” you laughed at her, your attention shifting between the gun and ellie.
“i’m just trying to help you, pumpkin.”
instead of making her feel soft and warm, the memory made her go cold. she couldn’t place you, your face was a cloudy mess in her mind but your voice rang true. her eyes glossed over, hearing your laugh in her head and all she could think of what she would do to these people once she found them. in a haze she stuffed supplies in her bag, a surplus of ammo for her rifle and pistol and then some. she removed her switchblade from her bag and put it in her back pocket for easy access, throwing a trench knife into the backpack just in case.
she was almost back of out the window she came in when she realized the trip was going to be long, and she had no food in her bag whatsoever. sighing, she looked around. the left over food from the guards littered the small counter to the side of the room. sandwiches and nuts and ellie figured it would have to do and before long she was sneaking to her usual spot in the fence.
the walk to it was familiar, she had done it with you a thousand times. it was a loose panel of wood that to the unknowing eye would be a secured fence, but with a gentle tug, it gave way. ellie and you had discovered it one day, and it quickly became your get-a-way whenever one of you wanted to escape the confines of the walls. there was a small over-look just beyond the wall, about a ten minute walk from jackson. ellie had drawn you there with the landscape behind you, the picture is hanging on the wall in her garage and she cherishes it like it was gold.
she pictured you there, trying to remember how peaceful you were to her. like the calm in the storm that was her life. all she could conjure was that night so she dropped it and viciously bit her cheeks with frustration. ellie came to the broken piece of wood, taking a quick look around before pushing it and then herself through the gap. the forest beyond was still and quiet. peaceful almost. putting the board back in place, she turned and headed for the highway.
readers pov
– day of the kidnapping
the last you saw ellie she was falling to the ground as she came up to your campsite. the man who had been hiding behind the tree knocked her out with a swift blow to the head. you cried out, thrashing in the hands of the man who had lifted you from the ground. “fucking let go of me!” you shouted as your world tumbled around you, you fell into the bed of the truck with a hard smack, pain shot up your spine and you groaned, rolling over.
the man jumped up onto the back of the truck, making it wobble with his weight. you crawled backwards instinctively, your eyes darting from him and your motionless girlfriend on the ground yards away. your stomach turned as he pulled his fist back and there was nothing you could do before he brought it down heavily onto your skull and everything went black.
while unconscious, your mind brought you back to ellie’s room. her stereo playing softly as you sat on her bed, watching her read the same book she always did. her eyes scanned the pages as if she had never seen it before. she was laying on her stomach, legs dangling over the side of the bed as she flipped the pages. it was a book about the constellations in the sky and every so often she would show you a page and say it reminded her of you. “this one–” she showed you, a cheeky smile on her face as she turned the book towards you.
“that just looks like lines, els.” you chuckled at her while you examined the page. you never understood her when she spoke about space, but you liked to hear her ramble. her voice was so comforting to you and it always brought you back down to earth.
“no, no, pumpkin, look–” she pointed with her fingers on the page, outlining the stars. “its cassiopeia on her throne. d’ya see it?” her soft green eyes met yours, a hopeful look in them.
you didn’t see it, you just saw lines on a page but ellie’s enthusiasm poured through her and who were you to deny her of it. “yeah, i see it,” you lied, getting closer to get a better look hoping it will just come to you. “why do you say that?”
“dunno,” she shrugged, looking back to the page. “but it says here she was a queen, so i think that’s why.”
her words always left you feeling like the most special person, and to ellie you were. you playfully hit her with a pillow, causing a mildly loud “ow!” from her.
“you’re so fucking cheesy,” you smiled, hitting her again with the pillow. as you brought it down on her she grabbed it. ellie moved quickly and sat on her knees as she struggled to take the pillow from you. she looked down at you, back against the bed and giggling so sweetly. she was able to snatch the pillow, throwing it to the side and leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“you love it, shut up.” her words bounced off your face and she pulled her face down to be directly in front of yours. her eyes stared into yours and you could see just how much she loved you on full display within her green eyes. she leaned in to kiss you and as her lips brushed against yours, the world around you melted away.
you felt cold and you could swear your eyes were open but you couldn’t see anything. you felt around, the ground beneath you was solid and ragged and as you moved you heard the clanking of chains. moving your hands down your legs you sensed the frigid metal that encased your ankle, following the chain with your hands to a bolt in the wall.
the walls had the same texture as the floor and you began to panic. you recounted the last memory you had, ellie laying on the ground. the man punching you in the face. reaching up to touch your sensitive skin, a sharp pain came from your cheek and you gasped. incoherent curses came stringing out of your mouth that quickly turned to yelling. you shouted for ellie, her name bounced off of the walls around you and with every call unanswered the hope inside you diminished. the darkness was over-bearing and you were forced to picture every horrible thing these people could do to you simply just because they could. your voice, that was still begging for ellie, became hoarse. a lump settled in your throat from wailing and you felt sick to your stomach.
you knew none of this was helpful. the screaming, the wailing, but you couldn’t help it. the emotions poured out of you until there was nothing left, ellie could be dead and you were locked up god knows where. you hadn’t even begun to think of why they had taken you, your head was too jambled to think straight. and after what seemed like hours in the black void of your cell, a dim light flickered on and came peeking beneath a door you didn’t even know was there. it illuminated the room just enough to see that cement encased you behind the metal door.
with a click of a lock the door opened and the sudden light hitting your eyes made you jump, shielding your face with your hands. you heard footsteps approach you slowly but stop a few feet away. a cold hand came up to your forearm and you swung, trying to keep whoever this was away from you at all costs. but their cold hands grasped your arms, forcing you to look upon them. the dim overhead light in the next room outlined the man in front of you, you couldn’t make out a face but he was brutish, and he smelled like a campfire.
“don’t bite the hand that feeds you!” the man growled, the taunting in his voice was sinister.
you used all the energy you could to spit in his face and he recoiled, letting go of your arms to wipe his face and he took a step back. “fuck you!” you snarled, spit leaving your mouth with the anger that boiled inside of you.
he chuckled as he wiped the remaining spit from his face, “we could have killed you, ya know?” the man muttered, taking small strides towards the metal door. his hand reached for the wall, turning on an overhead light in your cell. looking around, it seemed to be a basement. you could see stairs past the door to the cement room and as you peered through the door, the man repositioned himself in front of your face.
you didn’t say anything and his head cocked to the side as he knelt in front of you. “but we didn’t, do you know why?” his tone was antagonizing and as your eyes adjusted you could make out his face, a large scar was centered by his nose as if he had been cut. you shook your head at his question, not wanting to speak. also because your throat stung from the previous screaming.
“well,” he looked to the side, using his hands on his knees to hoist himself back up to his feet and he towered over you. “i would have told you but–” he motioned to his face, still glistening from your spit. “maybe tomorrow.” his words were fast, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.
in a panic you lurched forward, arm out and you tried to stop him. your ankle tugging on the chain as you reached for him.“wait, please don’t!” came rushing out of your mouth but it was too late. the light was switched off and as the door shut behind him, you were enveloped in the darkness yet again.
— four days after the kidnapping
the black void of your cell had become never ending. after the man with the scar left, the only time anyone would open the door was to give you as little food as possible. keeping you weak and unable to fight back, but alive just enough to do whatever they had planned. if you had been told you were here for a week you would have believed it, time moves weird in the dark and you never knew what time of the day it was, if they were swerving you breakfast or dinner– you had no idea.
at first you tried to stand, to pace around and get your body moving. after a while it became too repetitive and you fell to your knees, tired and disoriented. you hadn’t moved an inch since, just laying curled up on the floor with your back to the door. the only thing that kept you occupied besides sleeping was reliving memories, playing them over and over again in your head. they were all of ellie, her freckled face and auburn hair and that stupid constellations book.
she was your every waking thought and even slipped her way into your dreams. ellie was the only thing keeping you from going completely insane in the darkness. you could picture her so clearly, but when you thought about her voice it never sounded right. you were only able to hear it in your dreams, but when you woke it slipped away like water in your hands. traceable, but not recognisable. you made it your mission to remember, a small controllable goal in a situation so far out of your hands and it provided a sense of comfort. as much as it could.
you were tracing her name over the cold ground beneath you, whispering it softly as if it was a crime when you drifted off once again. it had become routine and a sure fire way to make sure she was in your dreams, her voice and all. this time your dreams planted you in the memory of watching her favorite movie together, curled up on the couch with your head in her lap and her hands playing in your hair.
“don’t get attached to her,” ellie said casually above you, pointing to the small tv. you groaned, looking up at her and her innocent eyes met yours.
“you spoil every movie, els.” you say with a fake annoyance in your voice, playfully swatting at the hand pointing to the tv.
“i didn’t say what happens to her!” her hands go up defensively, looking down at you in her lap. her face had been speckled with sun freckles from the previous day, leaving it absolutely covered from her chin to her forehead. even her eyebrow slit had a few small dots in it, and you found it hard to be annoyed with her.
turning your attention back to the movie with an unsure mhm, your eyes left hers and for a moment there was silence. and ellie couldn’t help herself, she mumbled, “exceptshetotallygetschoppedinhalf.”
you sprung up, your head leaving her lap, positioning yourself next to her on your knees. swiftly you propelled her down and straddled her torso. dramatic gasps left her mouth and she placed her hands on your hips, looking you up and down. “you’re gonna pay for that, you know,” you said to her, cupping her face with one hand.
“i’m soooo scared, pumpkin” she teased, and as the words left her mouth it was like someone had pressed the mute button. her lips moved, and she was definitely talking but her voice was gone, like it had blown away in the wind. the nickname you cherished so deeply from her inaudible and as you realized this your eyes snapped open. the darkness was back, and ellie was gone, along with her voice.
you tried to cling on to it, but the harder you tried to remember it, the further it went in your mind. if you weren’t so dehydrated, you’d be crying and thrashing around, desperately hoping for her voice to come back to you. but instead being too weak to do anything, you pulled your legs up to your chest and laid in the silence. you didn’t know how long you had been asleep, not that it mattered anyway, but your stomach was feeling emptier than ever before so it must have been a while.
remnants of your dream flashed in your mind and your hand placed itself on your face as ellie had always done, imagining it was her. imagining her coming to save you, her holding you. every thought that consumed you was her. she can’t be dead. you repeat to yourself like your own little mantra. she isn’t dead.
time shifted again and you heard footsteps coming down the stairs beyond the door. the metal door clicked and opened as it always did, but instead of food being thrown at you in the dark, the lightswitch flicked on. your eyes nearly burst from the pain after being in the dark for so long and you covered them with your hands. “ready to talk like a civilized person?” the raspy voice spoke and you removed your hands from your face, squinting your eyes until they adjusted.
you nodded slightly and the man with the scar sighed, “good,” he crouched in front of you and you locked eyes with him, anger filling you up head to toe but you fought against it. “where’d we leave off, huh?”
“w-why you took me,” your voice was small and you realized you hadn’t actually talked in days besides muttering ellie’s name to yourself.
“right!” he exclaimed loudly, making you jump as it echoed off the walls. “you seemed valuable, at least to that girl,” as he acknowledged ellie, your face lit up and you hung on to his words. “so we figured, you’d be a good bargaining chip for food and whatnot.”
the nonchalantness in his voice made your skin crawl and your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. “and you think giving me back like this will get you what you want?” you asked, your voice slowly returning. the man looked down on you with a smug expression.
“if they want you back alive, yeah. i do. we’re gonna send a party to your town to give them our demands for you,” his finger grazed your leg and you snaked it back. the chains rattled as you did and a chuckle came from him. “we just need to know exactly what you people got.”
worry swirled around inside of you and you knew what ellie would do in this situation, so you remained as strong as you could, picturing her in your mind. “i’m not telling you anything–”
“it’s your choice,” he sighed, reaching into his back pocket. he pulled out a small knife and it was too similar to ellie’s for your liking. “just know you can change your mind at anytime.” with that, his knife pierced your skin and your screams filled the room.
ellie’s pov
— five days after the kidnapping
ellie had been traveling on foot for two days now. her head still ached with the concussion she suffered and her feet felt like they were on fire with every step. everytime she felt like stopping, a foggy image of you would cross her mind and she would keep going. she only stopped when she was practically falling over, hours after the sun had gone down.
by the second day, her legs were giving out on her. she stumbled into the underbrush to the side of the road, falling to her knees and then flat on her stomach. too exhausted to eat and sleep came easy to her. she knew it would only be an hour of sleep but she physically couldn’t go any further tonight. so she embraced sleep, knowing it would only make her nightmares surface yet again.
tonight her nightmare seemed to be a complete recollection of that night. she was in the tent with you and you rambled about a book you had borrowed from dina. ellie was rifling through her backpack, looking for the constellations book. she had promised to show you cassiopeia on her throne in the night sky, but her book wasn’t in her bag. “i fuckin’ packed it,” she said mindlessly, dumping her belongings out onto your sleeping bag.
“it’s okay, we can find it without the book.” you reassured her, a soft smile on your face as you did.
“no, there was– ugh,” she sighed, accepting defeat. you looked at her, a puzzled expression on your face that she couldn’t quite see. “i had something for you, it was in the book.”
“i’m sure whatever it was, i’ll love it when we get back just as much.” you leaned up, planting a delicate kiss on her lips. ellie’s worry washed away and placed a hand to your cheek when you pulled apart.
thats when the silent forest came to life. animals could be heard sprinting between trees, and the birds caulking as they were so rudely woken up by whatever had scared them. ellie’s head turned to the opening in the tent and you grabbed her arm, forcing her to look back to you.
she saw the usual cloudy mess instead of your face, but in her dreams it seemed to be normal. she sat up, rubbing the arm that clutched hers before she spoke. “probably just a runner, i’ll be right back.” she kissed the top of the blur and felt the grip loosen around her arm.
“be quick–” you whispered to her as she left the warm tent into the chill air. ellie looked around the campsite, not seeing anything but the noises of the animals still alarmed her, so she expanded her search.
she had wandered down to the small creek about twenty yards from you, hoping the sound of the rushing water had attracted the infected but there was none in sight and as she turned to make her way back to you, and the night you had planned, your shriek came barreling through the trees.
not hesitating for a second, ellie was running. her fists pumping at her sides like a madman, she didn’t have time to think about what could possibly be tormenting you, but when she bursted into the campsite and her eyes locked on you, thrashing in the grasp of a random man, her heart sank to her stomach. your face was no longer blurred, she could see every detail that made your face so perfect but your terrified expression haunted her and the gun coming down on her head sprung her awake.
the sun hadn’t risen yet and her surroundings were still dark. she pushed herself off the ground, not wanting to go back to sleep until you were next to her. coming from the trees that lined the highway, she kept going. the little rest she got was enough to propel her forward and while she walked her mind wandered. it wasn’t long before the sound of morning birds snapped her out of a haze and as she looked up from her feet she saw a welcome to utah sign. it was still dark, probably the very beginning of the morning and ellie noticed smoke coming from the trees just behind the sign.
not hesitating she moved closer, taking her steps slowly and lowering herself to the ground, she pushed past the trees and saw the makings of a camp. a giant fire roared in the middle of all the people sleeping around it. her eyes landed on the man to the left, furthest from the horses and a picture flashed in her mind. he laid there peacefully, but ellie recognized him as the man who had knocked her out. and suddenly her thoughts halted themselves and her feet moved for her.
knowing she could never take all of them at once, especially as exhausted as she was, ellie decided on a different plan. starting with the woman closest to the horses, she positioned herself right next to her and grabbed the knife she had placed in her pocket. ellie’s hand covered the womans mouth and her eyes opened harshly. without a second thought, she sliced the knife along the neck of the panicked woman.
the fires crackling was enough to mask the sound of her blood gurgling from the wound. the woman grasped at ellie desperately trying to save her own life but her movements soon slowed, her arms falling to her sides. removing her hand, she moved on to the next one. watching as the life drained from him as well as he struggled to alert his friends. ellie had gone glossy eyed, and if she was being honest she wasn’t in full control of her actions. her mind only had one goal, and these people stood in her way. they caused this. they deserve it.
blood spattered onto her face while she glided the switchblade across the neck of the third man, once he had stopped fighting back and his eyes were staring blankly up into the sky ellie locked her own eyes on the final man. the one who had prevented her from saving you, now that it was only him left she stomped over to him. as she approached him, her chest was heaving and blood dripped from her face.
she stood over him for a moment, watching as he slept peacefully. cocking her head to the side, she kicked him harshly in the stomach. immediately he rolled over, clutching his stomach and groaning in pain. ellie drove her foot into his now exposed back and he cried out in pain yet again. despite his pain, the man tried to get away. crawling on his hands and knees as quickly as he could, he only made it a few feet when the sound of ellie’s gun cocking made him stop in his tracks.
“turn around,” ellie grunted, her breathing more heavy than before. the man did as he was told, and as he did his eyes widened at the sight of ellie, covered in blood, sweat and dirt. they wandered past her, looking upon his dead friends and his hands raised to the side of his head.
“take it all–”
“you remember me?” her voice was low, hushed even and as the terrified man studied her face his eyebrows raised slightly, and ellie’s lips threatened to curl at the ends. “yeah, you remember me.”
the man remained quiet in his realization and ellie’s gaze directed itself at the paper poking out from his pocket. the fire illuminated the camp just enough to see it was a map and she motioned her gun towards it, “you’re gonna show me exactly where she is.” her voice was flat but firm.
“i can’t do that–” his voice trembled and his words were cut off by ellie moving closer to him, her gun now directly in his face.
“you don’t have a fucking choice!” she shouted, ripping the map from his pocket while her gun remained closely trained on him. she laid it flat on the ground, crouching down to his level and staring him down. he shook his head feverishly, terrified of ellie but even more concerned about her finding their base. while he refused to speak, she had grown tired of waiting and with her available hand took her switchblade and dug it deeply into his thigh and twisted with all her strength.
he wailed, losing balance on his knees and falling to his side. ellie removed the knife, wiping it clean on her jeans before lowering her head to him. “you’d better start fucking talking.”
the gun was still pointed to his face and he looked at her with disdain, “i’m fucking dead anyway why would i tell you anything.” he said breathlessly, trying to cover the hole in his leg with his hands and failing miserably.
“because i can make it quick,” she twirled her switchblade in her fingers, grazing it over his cheeks as he winced back. “or i could make it so much worse.”
“fuck you!” he spat with all his might and ellie dug her knife into his arm, sliding it down while it tore open his flesh. his screams filled the woods around them and in a desperate attempt to save his life, he reached for her gun.
it pointed up and ellie fired at the sudden scramble. the man tackled her to the ground, pinning her down and fighting to take the gun from her hand. in the tussle, her switchblade fell from her grasp and landed a few feet away. in a panic she fought for the gun, kneeing the man in the stomach as hard as she could but he remained firm on top of her. her free hand swung up, knocking him on the head and his grip on the gun loosened. as she yanked it back, it slipped from her own hands and fell to the ground. while he was stunned from her punch, ellie managed to throw him off of her. she rolled around, looking on the ground for her gun but it blended in so well with the dirt and sticks she couldn’t see it.
taking a quick look back to the man, he had picked up a rather large rock and tried smashing it down on her head. ellie moved, nearly missing having her head bashed in and she noticed her blade glistening in the now rising sun. she army crawled as the man grasped at her legs to pull her back. her fingers fiddled with the handle before she was able to firmly wrap her hand around it. as she did, the man dragged her back towards him and while he tried to position himself on top of her, ellie plunged the switchblade deep into his chest. the crunch of it piercing his sternum confirmed it was a deadly hit and she watched as he lost any hope to stay alive.
his mouth hung open in shock, looking down to the puncture wound and his hands went to grasp around it. his legs straddled ellie’s torso, allowing the blood that poured from it to fall directly onto her. the man coughed and instead of spit, blood spewed from his mouth staining his teeth in the process before he fell over beside her. ellie didn’t move, her breathing erratic from the fight.
the man gurgled on his own blood for a moment before it got quiet again, the woods silent as ever except for her heaving breaths. her hands fell to her sides and she gazed up to the sky, the stars still burning brightly above the trees. all of her exhaustion hit her at once like a truck and she fought to keep her eyes from closing. right before she thought sleep would consume her and she would have to relive her worst nightmare all over again, she saw the makings of a constellation. at first, it wasn’t recognizable, just another clump of stars in the galaxy. but when it clicked in her mind, she propped herself up on her elbows and the tiredness melted away. it was cassiopeia.
that was everything she needed. ellie got up with a new surge of energy, taking the map with her and anything else she could find useful. she strode away from the grim scene on their horse, following the map to the first exit off the utah highway. with the horse, the rest of the journey seemed like light work. it was only an hour before she spotted the fences to the community.
tying the horse to a hidden tree for a get-away, she circled the small town. the fence was chain linked and she watched inside as the town woke up to start their day. ellie was able to see that only a small amount of people woke up this early, leaving the streets barely occupied.
staying in the shadows, she slipped under the fence that was poorly secured. she found herself in between two small houses, ellie could make out mumbled words from the street so she moved up, making sure to stay as close to the wall of the house as possible.
“....hopefully they will come back with the stuff by tomorrow.” a woman's voice could be heard, ellie dared not to peek around the corner and listened further to their conversation.
“we don’t even know if they have anything, we could be chasing a dead end.” ellie’s eyebrows furrowed as the second voice spoke. she figured they were talking about the group she had slaughtered, but could jackson be the dead end they were speaking about? is that why they wanted you?
“just gotta hope for the best, i guess.” the woman spoke again before her footsteps could be heard walking away. ellie’s body tensed up, quickly her mind showed her the haunting image of your face and she shook her head, focusing her eyes around the corner. she caught a glimpse of the woman walking down the sidewalk, leaving the man to stand in front of the house alone. he was reading a note intensely and ellie took a look around to make sure her coast was clear.
she came up behind him, swiftly covering his mouth and dragging him back between the houses for cover. she ripped the note from his hands and used the bandana that had been around his head to cover his mouth and threw him to the ground. while she examined the note, her pistol was focused on him keeping him in place.
residents be advised that your council is doing all they can to provide for you. we are currently bartering with a town in wyoming for food, and unlike last time, we are sure they will be more than happy to provide.
ellie balled up the paper in her fists, scoffing and throwing it beside the man. “the girl, where is she?” ellie hissed at him, keeping her voice low. he mumbled through the bandana and she rolled her eyes. “don’t fucking scream, you can make it out of this.” she said before pulling the bandana down.
the mans eyes were wide with fear as he looked upon ellie, but he spoke fast and quietly while darting his eyes between her and the gun. “i don’t know about a girl, i really don’t plea–”
ellie shook her head before snatching his wrist in her hand, bending his finger back and he winced. “okay, okay okay,” he rushed out, feeling his finger about to snap. “our hunters, they came back a few days ago with something they wouldn’t tell anyone about,” he paused, looking at ellie and her grip loosened.
“keep talking.” she ordered him and he stammered his words, trying to desperately abide by her rules.
“usually they bring the meat to the kitchen but-but they parked the truck outside of our leaders house, said it was nothing but it didn-didn’t look like nothin’.”
ellie moved the gun into his neck, nuzzling it right below his ear and his breathing hitched up. “where?”
“go left do-down the street, the truck is old you can’t miss it!” ellie knew the truck all too well and without another word she removed the gun from his neck and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“thanks–” ellie whispered as her switchblade lodged itself in his neck. he didn’t scream, just looked at her wide-eyed as he tried to stop his neck from bleeding. ellie didn’t wait around, his blood still bubbling as she walked away, turning left down the street.
she was careful, she moved down the street hiding behind cars, bushes and whatever else she could find. when she was starting to think the man had given her bad information, the truck came into view. it was parked blissfully in the driveway of a quaint looking house. she found herself climbing through an open window on the first floor, escaping the street and its peering eyes. ellie landed in the living room of the house, it wasn’t decorated, the walls were blank and the furniture looked like it was rotting away.
that's when she heard voices coming from upstairs, she almost ascended the stairs herself but the voices were coming closer. she hid behind the dusty couch as the stairs creaked and found herself in the company of two men who had no idea she was eavesdropping.
“we already sent the group, why do you need more from her?” the raspy voice uttered, a hint of annoyance laced in his tone.
ellie heard a long sigh, “because they could become our primary suppliers. as long as we have her, they will give us whatever we want. for as long as we want.” the second man spoke with a heavy country accent and her blood boiled, she stopped herself from jumping the two, instead listening for more information.
“she wasn’t very forthcoming the first time–”
his voice was cut off, “well fuckin’ make her. i told you whatever it takes.” another sigh filled her ears, and she wasn’t sure who had done it but feet were stomping away and she glanced around the couch. she witnessed a bald man opening a door down a dark hallway, while the man who had the accent went back upstairs. her brain was split, but she knew they wouldn’t have kept you upstairs so she followed the bald man with the raspy voice, opening the door silently and descending the stairs that were behind it.
the end of the staircase opened up to a dimly lit basement, it was unfinished and dirty. she caught a glance at a metal door at the opposite end of the room before turning her attention back to the bald man, who was crouching down beside a workbench. it was lined with tools, but ellie knew what they were for. so as fast as she could, she approached him. he was barely able to turn around before she tackled him to the ground. the man was big but being caught off guard helped ellie as her hands gripped around his neck.
she put all of her body weight into his neck, he was choking and failing his arms around at ellie. it didn’t phase her, even when he had slapped her across the face in his panic. her face was contorting with all the exertion and she stared down at him, never breaking eye contact. a scar was slashed across his face and she recognized this as the man who had thrown you into the truck, the image coming to her clearly. his eyes were bulging from their sockets and his legs were kicking with a passion but as ellie came to this realization she jerked her hands down, the applied pressure breaking his neck under her hands and he immediately went limp.
in a cloudy haze she stood up, catching her breath and looking around for a key. she practically threw everything off of the workbench in front of her and when she didn’t find it she moved back to the man on the floor. she dug through his pockets and her fingers found a small metal key.
she walked towards the metal door slowly. now that she was here, she was terrified of what she would see behind the door. she put the key into the lock and turned, earning a click. she breathed out all the air in her lungs before pushing it open and her heart was beating faster than she had ever known possible. the room was dark, and seemed empty. the light from the other room allowed her to see a small switch on the wall and she flicked it on, now fearing you werent even here.
but you were. the light came on and your hands flew to your face shielding your eyes. ellie’s eyes immediately brimmed with tears seeing you. she took a step forward, taking off her backpack and laying it on the ground beside her. you were so obviously injured, puncture wounds up and down your legs with dried blood surrounding them. the chain around your ankle had almost embedded itself in your skin, resulting in a horrible looking bruise that had worked its way up your leg. ellie breathlessly said your name, tears falling from her eyes and your hands moved from your face slowly.
your eyes weren’t adjusted, you just saw a blurry figure in front of you but you could have sworn you heard her voice. the voice that had escaped you every time you tried to hold on to it, and you thought your brain was playing a cruel prank. “please don’t,” you uttered quietly, fearing she was the man with the scar coming back to torture you more.
ellie dropped to her knees in front of you, looking at your battered body not able to form words. they had broken you, and she blamed herself. anger brewed inside of her but in this moment, she remained soft spoken. “it’s me,” she whispered, reaching her hand out to touch your leg which you snaked away, still not believing she was actually there. you believed you were so desperate to see her, to hear her, that she materialized out of thin air. but that meant you were truly losing your sanity and you could barely look at her.
“its not you–” you said back to her, looking to the floor and ellie’s eyes shut tightly to hold back anymore tears. you had backed up all the way to the wall, leaving ellie in the center of the room. she slowly moved to you as you watched her from your peripheral view.
she came up in front of you, “it’s me, pumpkin,” and placed a hand to your shallow cheek as she always had done.
feeling her warm hands on your face, you met her eyes. her warmth couldn’t be your imagination and your own eyes welled up as she dragged her thumb carelessly across your cheek. her appearance didn’t even phase you, all you cared about was her. “ellie,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and placing your hand on top of hers that cupped your face. “you’re actually here?” your voice was small and faint, and it felt like ellie was stabbed in the heart.
the blur that ruined her memories of you was gone. even the image of you being whisked away was gone. she scanned your still perfect face, it’s only faults being sunken in from hunger and bruising that littered your cheeks but it was still perfection to her. she felt more relief than she had when she killed the man in the woods, and the bald man that still laid a few feet away. you were here in front of her, finally. ellie couldn’t help but smile at you, all her efforts hadn’t been in vain.
“i’m actually here,” she repeated to you, connecting your foreheads together. “i found you.”
ellie leaned back, inches from your face. her voice rang in your ears and you felt like you were floating with every word that came from her mouth after missing it for so long. you managed a smile for her. she was so close to you that you had barely seen the figure towering over her from behind, your mouth began to form her name to warn her but it was too late. the figure smashed ellie over the head and she fell unconscious beside you.
#ellie williams#ellie williams fic#ellie williams x you#ellie williams angst#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams fanfiction#biblically accurate ellie williams#angst angst angst#ellie williams the last of us part 2#santa barbra ellie
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'TIL DEATH DO US PART — r.c
pairing rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary the night before your wedding, rafe reminds you that you'll always belong to him
warnings 18+, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, cheating, breeding kink (ish), creampie, language
author's note heyyy new layouttt. also i accidentally deleted the request for this bc i'm an actual idiot. don't hate me pls
rafe masterlist
Your rehearsal dinner looks like something out of a movie. A soft, warm light is cast around the room, reflecting off the chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling beautifully. The hall is jam-packed with almost every kook on the island, who are all dressed to the nines and engaging in small talk.
You spot your fiancé Jackson across the way, catching up with some of his old friends from college. He throws his head back in laughter, assumably in response to a joke, and you smile at how happy he looks.
A year ago, you never would’ve imagined that you’d find yourself engaged to Jackson. Truthfully, you only ever saw yourself marrying a certain Cameron boy. But things change. You still aren't sure for better or worse, but they have nonetheless.
Deciding that you need another drink after thinking about he who shall not be named, you navigate through the crowd in pursuit of the bar.
“A shot of tequila, please.”
The bartender nods, grabbing a shot glass off one of the shelves and topping it up. You bid him a thank you and quickly down the contents of the small glass. You shut your eyes at the slight burn, feeling the warmth make its way down your system. You let it wash away the memories of him. Even after all this time, you can still feel his hands on you and his soul intertwined with yours, as if he left an imprint on you forever.
He branded you, and you’ll never forget it, not even when you’re married to Jackson.
You know it’s horrible. It’s awful. Jackson is an incredible guy. He’s everything Rafe isn’t, everything Rafe could never be, and you can see yourself being happy with him for the rest of your life. But even so, deep down, you still yearn for the imperfection and flawed love that came with being Rafe’s.
You request another shot, knocking it back faster than your brain can process. The guilt is eating you alive, and you’re desperate to kill it. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. Not here, not now, and certainly not with your poor, unknowing fiancé across the room.
“Rough night?”
A chill runs down your spine, and goosebumps prick at your skin. It’s as if your senses have just come alive at the mere sound of his voice.
You prepare yourself, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath before turning around to face him.
There he is, standing in all his devilishly handsome glory. His eyes are as icy and blue as ever, his sharp features already making you weak in the knees. His body is clad in a perfectly tailored Armani suit, with dress shoes to match.
It’s shameful to admit, but he looks gorgeous. Then again, when does he not?
“What the hell are you doing here?”
He inches closer to you, his dress shoes lightly clacking against the marble tiles of the floor. “Relax, princess. I just came here to give you your wedding gift, seeing as I’m not invited to the actual wedding.”
“You weren’t invited here, either. If Jackson sees you—”
“—Let him see me. I don’t care.”
Same old Rafe Cameron, you think, cocky as ever.
“You can’t be here, Rafe. I’m not going to let you ruin this for me.”
Your hands find his arms, and you spin him around before shoving him and making a beeline for the doors. You locate the nearest restroom and push him inside, locking the door behind the two of you.
“I gotta say, I’m not feeling very welcome here,” Rafe notes.
“That’s because you aren’t. You know Jackson has always felt insecure about our past. It’s not fair of you to come here and try to stir the pot the night before our wedding. You have to go, Rafe.”
Rafe’s eyes trail down your form. The dress you’re wearing outlines your curves perfectly. Your arms are crossed against your chest, further accentuating your cleavage. Thanks to the heels strapped around your ankles, your legs look longer, and you’re glowing more than ever.
“You look stunning,” he notes, rubbing his fingers against his lips as he drinks you in.
“Why are you here? Seriously.”
“C’mon, baby. You didn’t think I’d let you marry that fucker without getting one last taste of what’s mine, did you?”
A sinister-like smirk plasters itself on his face when he notices your stern expression falter, and he knows his words are having the desired effect on you.
“Don’t go there, Rafe,” you say, walking over to the sink and creating more distance between you. You brace your hands on the counter, taking a deep breath and purposely avoiding Rafe’s heated gaze in the mirror's reflection.
“Why? ‘Cause you’ll jump at the chance?” He asks, stepping closer to you. “I can see it in your eyes, princess. You miss me.”
You scoff, “Actually, I don’t."
“You do. You miss my hands on you,” he whispers. His large hands find your hips. He glides them upward and toward your tits. He cups them over your dress, squeezing them and then revelling in the small, tortured moan you let out.
His lips brush against the shell of your ear, “You miss my lips on you.”
Then, his hands slide down to your hips again, pulling your ass against the hard cock in the confinement of his slacks. “And you miss my cock inside of you, fucking you ‘til you’re babbling.”
You can feel yourself growing wet as he rubs against you, and you’re tempted to lean into his touch and give in. But then you think about how wrong this is. Yes, you’re harbouring feelings for your ex, but you’ve never acted on them and never planned to. And so, coming to your senses, you brush him off and turn to face him.
“Go home, Rafe. You…you have to go home.”
You're barely able to maintain eye contact with him, and you're sure he'll either call your bluff or straight-up ignore your wishes.
“I’m not going anywhere."
Straight-up ignoring, it is.
“Stop it.”
“No,” he simply states. “You’re mine whether you like it or not, don’t you get that? You can’t walk away from this. From me.”
Rafe’s tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he stares down at you, awaiting your next move. He senses your uncertainty. He knows you need him just as much as he needs you, and he can see how hard you’re trying to fight it.
He’s always loved your fiery persistence.
His gaze intensifies on yours, and before you can speak, his hand slips under the slit of your dress, cupping your wet core through your barely-there panties. The familiar feeling of his cool rings against you makes you shiver, just like old times.
“Look at that. Your pussy’s giving you away, baby. Even she knows you can’t resist me.”
“Bite me,” you grit out, trying your best not to give him a reaction when his fingers tease your clit.
“I will. Just remember you asked for it.” His head dips down, and he scrapes his teeth against your jawline, partially making good on his promise.
“You’re impossible. I can’t even look you in the eye right now.”
“Then turn the fuck around,” he says, both hands grabbing you before he spins you around to face the mirror. He hikes your dress up over your hips and tugs your panties to the side. You hear the clinking of his buckle as he undoes his belt, along with the unfastening of his zipper, and before you know it, his cock slams into you without warning. You inhale sharply at the sudden intrusion, and Rafe does nothing to hide the smug look on his face.
Without allowing you to adjust, he starts to snap his hips against yours quickly and harshly, as if he’s punishing you for even daring to look in another man’s direction.
“Rafe, fuck,” you whine, your sanity now long gone. Your mouth is wide open as you take his harsh thrusts. He uses this opportunity to fuck the idea into your brain: you will never be rid of him.
“Look how much you missed me. It’s written all over your face. Not to mention, all over my cock,” he grates, referring to the arousal you've coated him in. He goes harder, impaling you balls deep. “So fucking needy. Does he even fuck you right? Get you off? Or are you thinking of me when he tries?”
“Shut the fuck up and make me cum, Rafe.”
“I don’t think you’re in the position to make demands, sweetheart. Not when you’re about to marry a pathetic nobody that can’t make you scream like I can.”
You hate how his words still cut deep, mainly because he’s right. But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction, not when he’s already getting what he wants from you.
You shut your eyes, trying to ignore him, but Rafe quickly shuts that down. He lands a harsh slap on your ass before gripping your throat. “Nuh-uh. You’re gonna watch me while I fuck you. You need to know that your pussy belongs to me. All your cum and all your orgasms belong to me. Not him. Not anyone else. Me.”
You stare into his eyes in the mirror’s reflection after opening them back up, biting your lip as you try to keep yourself quiet.
“There she is. There’s my girl,” he rasps. His hand leaves your throat, slithering down to your clit and rubbing rough circles into it. He feels your knees buckle when he does so, and he doesn’t miss the breathy moan that escapes your lips. “Fuck, I missed those sounds, princess.”
Rafe’s cock jams into a particularly deep spot inside of you, and before you can stop yourself, you yelp loudly. His jaw clenches, and the hand on your clit abandons it to cover your mouth and muffle your noises.
“Make one more noise, and everyone in the goddamn party will know what a greedy fucking whore you are. One dick just isn’t enough to satisfy my girl, huh?”
The secrecy and excitement blossoming from your current affair both send you into a spiral. You whimper against the palm of his hand, and you bite down on the skin to silence yourself. He’s reaching immaculate places and making you see stars, and you think that this must be what heaven feels like. You’re not quite sure what to make of the fact that Rafe is bringing paradise to you instead of your loving and faithful fiancé, but all you can focus on is how electrified you feel.
“Play with your clit. Soak my fucking cock, baby.”
You do, flicking it relentlessly as Rafe fucks you over the edge. You cry into his hand, your breath shaky as your body jerks. The warmth spreads throughout your body, leaving a dewy glow on your skin.
Rafe releases his hand from your mouth and returns it to your hip to get his own. He pulls you back into him repeatedly, his cock jamming into you and weakening your legs.
“I’m going to cum right inside this pussy. Imagine if you were walking around on your wedding day with my baby in there. I think you’d fucking love that,” he grunts, getting himself worked up even further. Your walls flutter around him, thanks to his filthy mouth. He chuckles breathlessly, “That’s what I fucking thought.”
You reach behind you, grabbing his balls and massaging them in your hand. You feel his cock twitch inside you, followed by the heat of his cum shooting into your walls and painting them white. Rafe rides out his orgasm, and once he calms down, he pulls out of you. He moves your panties back into place and pulls your dress back down before tapping your butt with his index and middle finger.
“Now run back out there to your loser fiancé with my cum dripping down your thighs. Congratulations on the wedding.”
updated rafe taglist (join here!): @pankowperfection @tinyluvs @oncasette @rafesmoon @hopesdadswife @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @twelfthmortalofcrimsonpalace @laineywilsons @sw34terw34ther @adoreyouusugar @rosie-cameron @f4ll-for-you @rafesdirtyslut @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @venomwh0re @cecesrings @cumbuckett @jjmaybankisbae @mvybanks
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron blurb#rafe outer banks#rafe obx#outer banks#outer banks x reader#outer banks smut#outer banks imagine#outer banks one shot#outer banks blurb#obx#obx x reader#obx smut#obx imagine#obx one shot#obx blurb#drew starkey
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Snoods
Wednesday silently snuck past the yellow police tape, careful not to let the bright, neon color touch her skin as she entered the now twice abandoned mansion. The last time she was here… she shuddered just thinking of that horrible night. It was certainly the worst birthday ever and not in the exciting way.
Shaking off the unpleasant thoughts, Wednesday continued into the mansion, entering the same way as before.
Everything was different inside and yet exactly the same, but she wasn’t here to explore or sightsee. She was here to grab something that never should’ve been lost. The raven went straight for the stairs down to the basement and soon enough… she found it. And it… broke her cold, black heart in ways she hasn’t felt in so long.
Shredded black fabric laid across the cold and dusty floor and Wednesday dropped to her knees to pick up all the pieces, tears flowing from her eyes unbidden as she tried to hold back her sobbing. Wednesday held the tattered fabric to her chest as she cried for who knows how long, just kneeling in this abandoned house that has taken so much from her, now taken one more thing from her.
Suddenly… “Wednesday?” A voice rang out throughout the house, traveling down the stairs like the echo of lost memories.
“Wednesday! Wednesday, why are you out here again? I swear, if this is another stupid- Wednesday?! Oh my gosh, Wednesday! Are you okay? Why are you crying? What happened? Are you- hurt… oh… Oh, Wednesday,” Enid’s voice softened impossibly as she noticed her girlfriend clutching the torn snood she had made for her all those years ago.
Enid quickly wrapped the seer up in her arms, holding her carefully, but oh so tightly, just how she knows the girl loves and as she does, the dam breaks and Wednesday lets out an absolutely heart-shattering sob as she curls up into Enid’s embrace.
Endless apologies would be spewing from Wednesday’s mouth if she weren’t crying so hard that any words were just completely incoherent. Enid shushed her gently and comfortingly rubbed her back and her head.
The werewolf waited out the worst of the storm, letting her girlfriend have a very overdue and much needed cry session that would hopefully wash out most of the emotional gunk that had definitely built up inside the poor raven since the day her pet scorpion died and she had sworn off tears and emotions altogether. It was necessary, Enid knew, despite how painful it was for her to hear the smaller girl sounding so entirely broken down and defeated.
Once Wednesday’s tears had slowed and all that was left was small little sniffles and hiccups, Enid pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes and spoke, “Feeling a little better? Yeah, I’m sure you are, that was probably a literal decade in the making. Don’t worry, baby, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
Wednesday hiccuped as she looked down at the torn snood in her arms, “It’s ruined…”
Enid simply smiled softly, “It’s okay. I’m very sure I can fix it, it’ll be good as new. But… I don’t think this was all just about the snood, was it?”
The raven shook her head as she looked away sadly. Formulating how to word it all, she was interrupted before she could even speak. “Hey, Wednesday? You don’t have to talk about it, if you’re not ready for it. Take your time, okay? Besides, we should probably get out of this creepy ass house before we get caught down here or something. Principal Weems will have a total fit if she finds out we were out here again.”
Enid’s bright optimism and enthusiasm always managed to sweep away all the pain and darkness inside Wednesday in a way that she just couldn’t fathom was real. Nonetheless, she nodded in agreement and the two girls stood up and walked out of the mansion together, this time holding hands while Wednesday held her snood tightly in her other arm.
It wasn’t okay yet, but it would be, in due time. Enid was right, it just takes time. And it’s okay to not be okay all the time. As long as they had each other.
(Day 29, Prompt 29 of Wenclair-Tober. Sorry this is so late lol. I took melatonin last night and it always makes me sleep in super late lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! Yes, it takes place in S2 time, whenever that exactly is. Weems is alive because I said so! Just remember, everyone, it’s okay to not be okay. Take care of yourselves and be patient with yourselves. Much love, Rachel ❤️)
#wenclairtober#wenclair#wednesday x enid#wednesday addams#enid sinclair#enid x wednesday#wenclair prompts#writing prompts#october writing challenge#wednesday netflix#wednesday series#my writing
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Forget Me Not (iii)
Requested: no
Summary: Jake struggles with coming to terms with the loss of your baby. Even though he knows he has to tell you the truth, he can’t. Not yet.
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: mentions of death, panic attacks, injuries, angst, headaches, memory loss, amnesia, miscarriage, hospitals.
Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x wife!reader
Previous part || Next part
When Jake stepped out of the room, the last thing he heard was your’s and Natasha’s laughter. The hinges of the heavy metal door creaked as it shut softly behind him. His eyes slipped shut and he breathed a heavy breath through his nose. What was he supposed to do? He had no idea whether you knew that you were pregnant before the accident or not. He also didn’t know if he should tell you that you were pregnant, let alone that you and Jake were married. After everything you had been through, you still looked so happy. How was he supposed to ruin that?
His chest felt tight and there was moisture in his eyes. Jake groaned. The man had hardly ever cried in his life. As far as he could remember, he had only cried twice. The first time was his eighth birthday. His mother had spent hours working on the perfect cake, decorated better than a professional ever could. It was supposed to be a relaxed evening, the Seresin family planning on simply enjoying their dinner together. That plan failed when Jake’s father returned home drunk, cussing out his mother for any reason he could think of. When a young Jacob Seresin tried to speak up in defence of his mother, bottles were thrown and his mother's beautiful cake was destroyed. A tear rolled down his cheek at the sight of his mother's hard work in shambles. The young boy was then lectured on how ‘men don’t cry’. From that moment forward, Jake made a conscious effort to never show weakness like that again.
The second time was on your wedding day. That morning, Jake had prepared himself to handle his emotions properly when the time came. But when he saw you walking down the aisle in that beautiful white dress that made you look like an angel, he couldn't help but let a few tears slip. You had smiled at him widely, tears of your own shining in your eyes as you walked down the aisle slowly. By the time you reached him, Jake had already had to dry his eyes twice on the handkerchief Rooster handed him.
Now, Jake had cried twice in the span of two days. At the thought of everything that had happened during those two days, he almost wanted to cry again. Had that accident not happened, he would be a father in seven months.
The door hinges groaned as it opened slowly. Bradley stepped into the hall and laid a comforting hand on Jake’s shoulder. “How you doing man?” He questioned gently. Jake sighed. Honestly, he had no idea how he was doing. On one hand, he was eternally grateful that you were okay. Even though you couldn’t remember him, he still thought that that was better than having to bury you. But on the other, he felt horrible. All he wanted was for you to be okay, and for you to have your memories back. But he knew that no matter what he did, he couldn’t make that happen for you. And that thought ripped him to shreds.
“I'm not sure,” His words were barely loud enough for Bradley to hear. Nonetheless, Bradshaw nodded in understanding. “How’r they doin’?” He motioned toward your room, where he could still hear you and Natasha chatting animatedly inside.
It was then that he remembered how you had instantly recognized Bradley. That was suddenly the only thought on his mind. Jake felt as if the room was closing in on him. Within seconds, his mouth was bone dry, his hands were shaking and it felt hard to breathe. It felt as if something was wrapping itself around Jake’s throat and squeezing until the pilot couldn’t take in breaths.
Bradley’s hand on his shoulder was what pulled him out of his spiralling state. He cleared his throat, wiping that same damn moisture from his eyes and avoided Bradley's concerned gaze. “‘M fine,” He murmured. The mustached pilot was still looking at Jake like there was something he wanted to say. “Spit it out, Bradshaw. ‘M not a damn mind reader.” Bradley hesitated.
“It’s just,” He started, weary of how Jake would respond to his words. “Are you ever gonna tell her the truth?” Bradley watched his friend for what felt like ages until his blank facial expression cracked. At this moment, Jake looked crazy. Even though there were tears welling in his eyes once more, the heartbroken pilot was laughing. His laugh was void of all humour. That wasn’t a laugh out of joy, one that Bradley had seen many times before. No, this was a laugh filled with pure pain. It was a laugh of irony.
Just as quick as he began laughing, Jake was quiet again. “I can’t,” He whispered, broken. “Not yet.” And just like that, Bradley accepted the answer. Did he think that Jake should tell you the truth? He wasn’t sure. Even Bradley knew the gravity of that decision. And he wasn’t even the one that had to make it.
The two of them were silent for the next few minutes. Neither of them knew what to say. Bradley had no idea how to comfort Jake. Sure, he had dealt with loss before, but it was nothing like this. The loss of his father at a young age and his mother a few years later hadn’t prepared him to watch two of his best friends struggle like this.
Just as Bradley was getting ready to make another comment, the door opened, revealing Pheonix. “She wants to see you.” She spoke to Jake with a soft smile. Immediately, Jake’s eyes lit up. Wordlessly, he stepped past her and into your room.
“Hi,” You grinned from the bed. Jake smiled sadly. Even hooked up to all kinds of monitors and covered in bandages, you still looked like an angel. He was breathless.
His smile was kind and his actions were slightly shaky as he moved to sit in the uncomfortable plastic chair. “Phoenix-” He started before correcting himself. “Natasha told me that you wanted to see me?” It was more of a question than a statement. His grin instantly grew when a rosy colour came over your cheeks.
Your fingers toyed with the scratchy sheets on the thin hospital mattress. “I was hoping that you could tell me more about us?” That made him freeze. When you noticed this you instantly began backtracking. “I mean, like, some stories from when we were in Miami.” Jake couldn’t turn you down, not when you were looking at him with those wide, curious eyes. He found himself smiling once again.
“Of course,” He muttered. It took the pilot a few seconds to think of a story that didn’t give away the fact that you were together. “Well, a few weeks after we met we ran into each other at the beach again,” You looked at him intrigued. “I finally got a day off and wanted to relax for a while. We hadn’t made plans to see each other and yet as I was stepping out of my truck I saw you in the parking lot.” With the exception of Jake’s soothing words, the room was silent.
He saw that familiar little smile growing on your face. That smile had to be his favourite sight in the whole world. “You were trying to carry so many things at once,” Your husband laughed quietly and smiled fondly at the memory. “You dropped a few things so I went to go help you. After that, we spent the rest of the day hanging out on the beach.”
“What did we do?” You whispered, almost breathless. You were transfixed by Jake, even though you couldn't figure out why. Jake’s words brought you a sense of calm that you hadn't felt in days.
Smiling, the pilot thought back to the events of that day. That was your first date. Jake remembered it like it was yesterday. “You wanted to look for seashells on the beach. You even had a little jar to collect them in. So, we spent hours walking down the beach. No matter how much you told me that I didn’t have to spend my day off with you, I told you that I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished that he would have taken them back. He knew that he needed to tell you the truth, but like he told Bradley, he couldn’t just yet.
But you only smiled. It didn’t matter that you couldn't remember him, his words just showed you exactly how much he cared about you. There was something comforting in knowing that after everything that happened in recent days, Jake still stuck by your side.
Jake continued to tell you about that day, not sparing any detail. He told you everything, down to the number of shells that you collected and the colours in the sunset later that night. The one thing that Jake left out was how you watched that sunset from a beach-front restaurant. It had taken Jake nearly an hour to convince you to go to dinner with him. But once you agreed, Jake had been sure to make it the most memorable night of your life.
Once Jake was finished telling his story, you were a blushing, joyful mess. You couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling that Jake’s words brought you. Just as you were about to thank Jake for sharing those memories with you, a sharp, shooting pain developed on the left side of your head. You hissed quietly, trying not to worry the aviator in front of you as you rubbed your temple.
“Jake?” Murmuring quietly, your eyes slipped shut as you drew his attention to you. He hummed, eyebrows furrowing. His heart dropped when he noticed the pained expression on your face. “Would you excuse me? I think I’m going to lie down for a few minutes.” Even though he didn't want to leave you, the pilot respected your wishes. The plastic chair creaked loudly as he stood up.
Wordlessly, your husband exited the room. He turned the lights off and closed the door softly. While Bradley and Natasha were waiting only a few feet away with hopeful smiles on their faces, Jake couldn’t bring himself to walk toward them. Their smiles slowly dropped as Jake walked quickly away from them. With one quick glance between each other, they rushed after him.
They had never seen Jake more determined than he was now. Still, they remained quiet as they followed him, not knowing that currently, your husband was desperate to find your doctor.
a/n: Thank you for all the love on this series! I hope you enjoyed. Requests are open :)
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#top gun#top gun fanfiction#top gun x female reader#top gun x reader#top gun fluff#top gun maverick#jake seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x you#jake seresin angst#forget me not#hangman angst#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin x female!reader#jake seresin fic#jake seresin x you#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin moodboard#hangman top gun#hangman imagine#hangman smut#hangman#hangman fanfiction#hangman x reader#hangman fic#top gun x you#top gun angst#top gun x y/n#Jake seresin x wife!reader
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B.I.L.L.S , t. hanamaki
american hero. . . b.i.l.l.s. by towa bird
If I had a dollar then I wouldn't have to bother 'bout the bills. I'm so tired of paying rent.
pairing : hanamaki takahiro x f!reader
cw/notes : poverty/financial insecurity, conversation about/wishing for "what could be" (and a deep dive into the feeling of wanting), use of the pet name "sweetheart," humor as a coping mechanism, language, eating used as a metaphor, lots of metaphors in general, established long-term relationship, I am genuinely very proud of this fic so if you got tagged out of the blue that's why <3
word count : 2.6k
The apartment was dingy and run down, a muted tone of gray that submerged the entire cramped space into desolace. A desolace that bled into the other rooms, through the floorboards, through every nook and cranny of the compact unit - through the bones of the pair that inhabited it. Pictures and posters littered the drab walls. Old developed pictures and various music flyers stuck to drywall with bits and pieces of scotch tape - real frames were far too expensive - as they tried desperately to combat the dreary aura of the space.
But it was difficult to fight against such longing; around every corner being yet another issue that would only ever be resolved with the one thing the pair didn’t have: funds. Air conditioning that went out every other month, as the landlord was too stingy to really fix it and complained with every call and maintenance request about the issue. Mold in the air vents, water pressure that was just short of a small stream, a lock on the door that barely bolted with a small chain lock that was used as a "replacement" that didn't really do anything. It reeked of dust and mildew, a musty smell that lingered no matter how many candles were lit and blown out. And trial and error to shut the, horribly painted, bedroom room; over the months they learned to turn the knob and slam rather than just slam.
It was a constricted, at times uncomfortable; limited space meaning old cardboard boxes stayed within the living area or bedroom - mementos gathered dust that all but covered the unit entirely. Memories shoved in a box that would barely ever see the light of day, or simply, didn’t want to. Such a place didn’t deserve such warmth. A god forsaken space didn’t deserve the radiant coziness that came with trinkets and baubles, didn’t deserve the framed pictures - that would crash to the ground anyway, as the drywall often crumbled and fragmented - and surely didn’t deserve the mellow residents who resided in it.
Both home from work, and both exhausted beyond belief, they sat together on an old, thrifted loveseat. A gaudy flower pattern that was stained and smelled of cigarettes from the latter owners, but a place to sit nonetheless. The man shuffled through a slew of mail, the woman, with her eyes closed and trying not to fall asleep right then and there, sat next to him.
“I’m so fucking tired of paying this shit,” he grumbled before throwing the envelopes onto the rickety coffee table. A table that was discounted, dirt cheap, as one leg was cracked and wobbly. Oftentimes, it broke when too much weight was put on it, duct tape lined the connection between the leg and table itself. All it held was other envelopes - bills, an array of clipped coupons, and a long forgotten coffee cup, that’s rim was chipped and the handle cracked.
“Then don’t,” the woman hummed in response, a cheeky reply to a serious notion. An exhaustion riddled in her voice that made him look over and sigh, heart strings pulled taut at seeing her weary form. “We can run away together and never have to see this shit hole again.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, letting a pause settle between them. Allowed the sound of the fan in the far corner of the room to take over the silence he offered, the hum of it engulfed the room as it rotated to cool the entire apartment. “Maybe we should,” he sighed before a small smile pulled at his lips. “We can go off grid and everything, y’know they make shows about people that live like that, right? We could be famous.”
A breath of air passed through the woman’s nose as she chuckled, and she opened her eyes to look over at him. “You’re an idiot.” Even as she smiled at him, he couldn’t help but notice just how tired she looked. Her eyes were dark and hazy, unfocused even, as it seemed like all she wanted to do was close them again - to sleep. Her work uniform crumbled and wrinkled as she sat with her legs up on the small couch, too worn out to change upon coming, to what they reluctantly called, home.
Home, to them, was coming back at odd hours. Never fully holding each other as the other had to whisk themselves away - to provide, to work. Times were fleeting, just as much as the money that came in. Gone within a second and drained from responsibilities. Every second together was taken with an ironclad grip, and sewn together with cups upon cups of coffee just to try and enjoy it all.
“Where would you want to go if we had the money to leave?” The off kilter question left his lips easily, without much thought put behind it. Because to him, that's all he ever thought about - leaving. He hoped one day he was able to scrape up enough funds, pack everything up, and leave the cramped unit all together with her by his side.
“Anywhere, honestly, this place sucks ass.” She groaned as she stretched her legs off the loveseat. A series of pops from overworked limbs hit his ears and made him frown - she didn't deserve to be this tired, not for this piece of shit apartment. Not for anything.
“I’m serious.” His normal, almost whimsical, tone went with the wind as he sat up a little straighter. He looked over to her with red tinged eyes, fatigued and strained, that swirled with an unforeseen worry.
“So am I.” A curt reply as she locked eyes with him. A realist, maybe a bit pessimistic to some, but the woman grounded herself in reality more than he. Didn't want to waste herself away with thoughts of what could be than what is. What could be was a sham, a figment of imagination she couldn't bear herself to think about often; as the thought of what is yanked her to the very pits of longing that she would later have to tear herself out of.
“I know where I’d want to go.” A dream he hadn’t told her before, he wished he had the money to surprise her with it. But that day was far off in the distance, a mere glimmer of a memory, and he cracked under the pressure of wanting to share. At least this way, they could experience the dream together.
“Yeah? Where?” She closed her eyes again and let her head fall to his shoulder.
“I’d want to go to Tokyo.”
She snorted at the thought, “spare me, Hiro, not this shit again.” A half hearted joke that landed a bit on edge, toed the line of snappy through drowsy laced words. A former wish she had heard before from him, a joke to only go to Tokyo to get piss drunk with friends.
“No, not the bar hopping thing.” He assured and waved off the remark with a small chuckle.
“Good, because you do that shit with Mattsun here anyway. You don’t need to drag me to Tokyo just for me to babysit you two idiots there.” Babysitting, truly, was an understatement to the woman. The thought made her cringe as she recalled past memories of his dear friend passed out in their bathroom, head in the toilet and completely out cold.
“I want to take you to Ueno Park to see the cherry blossoms one day.” His voice was a twinge quieter than before, a bit breathless as he couldn’t believe himself for finally saying the dream aloud. Deep brown eyes shifted over to look at the woman, whose head still rested on his shoulder - completely silent.
The comment had her at a lack of words, letting another silence pass by them once more; but it lingered far too long. A silence that, as moments passed, began to have a weight to it and started to suffocate her. Every inhale became shallower than the last, and she couldn’t find it within herself to take a single breath more of the humid, musky air the apartment provided. She felt herself tumble into the gaping hole of wanting, needing, craving - pure, unbridled hunger for more than what is. A ravishing feeling that took her by the shoulders and shoved, falling head first into the empty, hollow feeling of what could be.
What could be was far from reality, what could be couldn’t happen.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked over at him, eyes a bit wider than before and lips parted through means to say something - nothing ever came. “You told me three years ago you wanted to do that.” Quiet words answered her unspoken question and she sucked in a breath. She remembered telling him that vividly, could recall the day to a tee as it held importance to her.
It rained that day, poured down onto the street as they ran back to their shared apartment - a better one than what they had now. Steps taken hastily, hand in hand, as he practically dragged her through the downpour with a laugh. Both forgot an umbrella, so they ran through the rain getting more and more soaked with every step. It wasn’t far from their unit, the pair only went down the street to a convenience store. But the storm they tried to outrun inevitability caught up with them, so the leisurely walk back home turned to a sprint.
Upon their return, they found themselves sprawled out on their bedroom floor. Their clothes drenched from rain and water puddled onto the hardwood underneath them. A silly action, to lay on the floor wet. But neither minded as they giggled and laughed with one another, enjoying the other’s company.
Strawberry blonde hair stuck to his forehead and he raked a hand through it. A chuckle left his lips from an earlier conversation before he looked over at her once more, “if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you want to go?”
“What kind of question is that, Hiro?” A teasing tone laced within her cadence as she locked eyes with him. Bright and hopeful, full of love, and not an ounce of exhaustion swirling within them.
“One that I’m curious about, obviously, so indulge me.” The whimsy in his words was easily apparent, one of which she got used to quickly. And there was a sass in the timbre of his voice that muddled with care, a juxtaposition to his usual standalone brassiness.
“What’s yours?”
“This isn’t about me, it’s about you.”
He watched the woman smile before she averted her eyes to the ceiling, scrunched her brows in thought a moment before she looked at him once more. “Probably Ueno Park, in April, to see the cherry blossoms.”
“Are you serious? Anywhere in the world, and you want Tokyo?” He never looked away from the woman throughout the conversation, and when she met his gaze once more he smiled.
“Did you ask just to make fun of me, asshole?”
“No, god no.” He laughed, lips pulling into a silly smile before he took her hand in his own. “I’m just trying to figure out where I should ask you to marry me one day.”
The inescapable feeling of want consumed her, leaving nothing left behind as she was swallowed whole. A swirling sensation in her stomach that sickened her, made her ill to think about too long as all she could do was stare at him. “Takahiro.” Her words fell to a whisper as eyes flickered between his own, desperately trying to gauge the situation but to no avail. “You can’t be serious?”
“As a heart attack, sweetheart.” The smile he had started to falter, and the concern that saturated her eyes made his heart sink. But through that concern, the smallest, most miniscule, glimmer of need shone through. Even through tired, bloodshot eyes and a tinge of cynicism, she wanted the dream just as much as he, if not more.
“Hanamaki,” she breathed. “Be real for a second-” But she was cut off as he turned to face her, the old loveseat squeaking under the shift of weight, and he took her hands in his own
“I am being real, so put that name away.” Erring on defensive, put a care behind it that she couldn't ignore. A rare seriousness in his voice that made her swallow hard. “I’m taking you to see those damn cherry blossoms at some point, and when I do I'm asking you to marry me.”
She opened her mouth to say something but promptly shut it, not knowing what to say to the man. But she felt as the ravenous feeling turned to a starved, almost primal, one. Felt her stomach twist into knots at the thought - she wanted to swallow the notion completely. Needed to feel the crunch and snap of it in her mouth, wanted her teeth caught in it, needed it to be consumed until nothing was left. She abstained from could be for too long and needed to devour the concept entirely.
But could be wasn’t what is. What is left a bruise, tender and raw, that left a rotten taste in her mouth. She felt the urge to spit out the thought as it circled within her mind like a vulture, ready to dive within a split second. “But-”
“We will, I swear.” He cut off her protest and squeezed her hand. But to no avail, as she only looked at him with a sense of apprehension.
“But we're-”
“I know, I know,” he sighed. Brown eyes slid over to the envelopes on the coffee table, bold red letters catching his attention that made him close his eyes. “Believe me, I know.” A disheartening belief that caused him to take a deep breath before opening his eyes again to look at her. He brought a hand to her cheek, pale fingers gently brushed over her skin with a warmth that was inviting, loving, and selfless. He gave her a small, out of sorts, smile, “but I want to do this. For you. For us. Hell, because we deserve to do something nice. I want us to have something to look forward to other than the same, shit ass, walls everyday.”
She paused a moment, let his words sink in, before she bit down hard on the concept and refused to let go. “Ok,” she nodded carefully. “Alright, we’ll go to Ueno Park one day.” Could be tasted sweet and savory, mouth watering to think about. It eased a craving that deflected from what is - so just this once, she let herself free fall into it. “Do you even have a ring to ask me with?”
His smile pulled into a grin at her question, and he chuckled. “Would you say yes to a ring pop?”
With a paltry laugh, she leaned into his hand that was still on his cheek. “As long as it's strawberry, then absolutely, you dumbass.”
“Strawberry it is, sweetheart.”
However, he didn’t really need the sweet, confectionary ring. In one of the many old cardboard boxes within the living area and bedroom that collected dust - a particularly well kept, small box hidden in the back of their tiny, shared closet - was a ring he bought three years ago. Bought shortly after the conversation was had, when he still had the money to stretch. Stuffed between memories that would barely ever see the light of day, because a place like this didn't deserve such warmth.
But the warmth was willingly given anyway, whether the pair knew it or not.
series taglist (open, send an ASK) + a few moots bc I am genuinely very very very proud of this
@causenessus @softpia @renardiererin @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses
@wyrcan @honeekyuu @wakashudou @wolffmaiden @eggyrocks
@dailyakira @cupidsblonde @mollyrolls @wolffmaiden @zumicho
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#divider by @/bunnysrph#series: american hero#hq x reader#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu x reader#hanamaki takahiro#takahiro hanamaki#hanamaki takahiro x reader#takahiro hanamaki x reader#makki x reader#hq makki#hanamaki x reader
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أهلا please can you write a story about Poseidon and his wife the goddess of moon, he love her so much but she lost her memory and forgot it and now he is trying to help her remember him despite his pain. Sorry for my bad language
Type of Writing: Request Character: Poseidon Name: Poseidon with Moon Goddess! Reader that Loses Her Memory Requester: @75rrgyt34
A/N: أهلاً بك! I hope that was right, I use google when it comes to languages I don't know fluently😅. I hope you do enjoy this, lil bubbles🫧!
⚠️ Content Warning: Trauma, severe wounds, child loss, trauma, and war ⚠️
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🔱 You were the Greek Goddess of the Moon, and the daughter of the Titan Goddess of the Moon, Selene, whom created you from a speck of the moon's dust
🔱 Due to the Titanomachy, or, as many nowadays call it, the Titan War, you and Poseidon started off on bad terms, since he had witness the fight your mother participated in
🔱 When she was taken away and imprisoned, you just watched while floating next to the brothers as she smiled at you and blew a kiss of stars, which now were littered throughout your hair, symbolizing the everlasting love your mother has for you
🔱 Poseidon would watch as you floated over the ocean with a small smile as a dolphin would jump up to try playing or when a whale tried to splash you with some water from their blowhole or a swing of their tail
🔱 While many would view those actions as a symbol that the Greek God of the Sea disliked you, he had no control over the animals, they were merely the ones living in his domain
🔱 He had control of the waves and how the weather surrounding the sea made it react, and it always seemed to go from rough and rage-filled to calm and filled with delicacy whenever you were around
🔱 You and Poseidon bonded quite well, as you were very quiet and peaceful like your mother, but you also had a darker side, one similar to Poseidon's normal mood
🔱 It took a very long time, and by a very long time, I mean around maybe a few centuries, for you guys to start courting one another, and another thousand or so years for you guys to get married and start a life together
🔱 In the first few months of your relationship, you had gotten pregnant and Hera said you were destined to have a baby boy, which you and Poseidon decided on the name Πρωτότοκος, or Protótokos, which means firstborn in Greek
🔱 Poseidon and you were extremely excited for the new chapter you were about to begin, but it all came crashing down when the Gigantomachy broke out
🔱 You were resting at home when Poseidon attending an important meeting with his brothers, Ares, and Hermes, and once it ended, he went home to prepare for battle, and to get you to Hermes and into protection
🔱 But, when he arrived at the palace, he didn't see you awaiting him in the front of the throne room doors like usual, and with the war, he felt a bit uneasy
🔱 Following his instincts, he fled into your shared bedroom and found you on the ground with many wounds dressing your once clean figure
🔱 The worst ones would have to be the big bashing your head had taken and the large stab sounds on your stomach alongside bruises
🔱 He froze and went to check your pulse, which was thankfully still there, and when you were stabilized by the nurses and doctors he ordered in to help you, he headed off to battle with nothing but pure rage in his heart
🔱 They may be able to hurt him, but nobody will ever touch nonetheless try killing the ones he holds closest to him, especially his wife and unborn child
🔱 When the war ended and he returned to hear the news of what happened to you, he was met with the horrible news of losing the child due to trauma, and your memories may not even be there, also due to trauma
🔱 Poseidon tried distancing himself as you awoke and began healing, but he couldn't leave you alone, besides, Zeus and Hades kept dragging him, more so Hades then Zeus, since Poseidon would skewer him
🔱 Seeing you look confused at him hurt, you were supposed to look at him with love in your eyes, not this distant unknowing of him and what you two had made and lost
🔱 He made it his life goal to help you restore your memories, no matter the cost, you were his wife, he made a pledge to you long ago that he'd be with you throughout any challenge that plagued your lives, and this was going to be the hardest one he faces, he hopes...
#Record of Ragnarok#RoR#Shuumatsu no Valkyrie#SnV#RoR Greek Pantheon#Record of Ragnarok Gods#RoR Gods#Record of Ragnarok x Reader#RoR x Reader#Shuumatsu no Valkyrie x Reader#SnV x Reader#RoR Greek Pantheon x Reader#Record of Ragnarok Gods x Reader#RoR Gods x Reader#S/O! Reader#F! Reader#God! Reader#RoR Poseidon#RoR Poseidon x Reader
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V — GOLDEN CAGE // F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU
Visiting your father went just like you expected it to go. Horribly wrong but you wanted to push through it and go back to your home in Konoha. Things unfortunately got out of hand and you were forced to summon Tobirama to save you.
contents: physical abuse, toxic parent behavior, sexual abuse mentioned just briefly (nothing of that nature is happening but it's a warning nonetheless), forced drug intake, heavy misogyny, reader discretion is advised — 3,1k words
POLITICALLY LOVELESS || SERIES MASTERLIST
With an ANBU officer that Tobirama assigned to assist your trip, you reached the village that was your homeland. A place where you grew up welcomed you with fake smiles as you entered the palace. You used to live there, but no warmth or domesticity was waiting for you inside the familiar interiors. Once you entered, you received a long, harsh and emotionless hug from your father, just so the appearances were kept in the eyes of your security member, but with Konoha's shinobi departure, all of the artificially gentle gestures departed as well, leaving you with cold aura of your strict parent. Oh, how many memories it brought to the front of your mind.
After four hours of travel, you were given some time to rest and you took it, preparing yourself for what's to come. Evening was still early and you expected a meeting with your father that day before the madness of the next one starts. The talk was plain, it was nothing, just as if he wasn't talking to his daughter but to a foreign person and you'd lie if you said it hurt you. You were used to similar treatment from him, there was never any parental love he showed. He never acted like your father, more so like your owner, which in a sense he was. Every decision regarding you had to go through him, had to get his approval before it came to life; he decided what you’re going to wear, what and how much you’re going to eat and with whom you’re going to spend your time. He was strict and demanding nothing but compliance, feeding you fear and uneasiness from the youngest age. He did everything to burn down your character, to change you into a maid, a housewife, into someone who’s doing as is told. You were too strong mentally to go down this road and you learned how to play his game. Or so you thought, because you felt truly free only when you married Tobirama and left the village.
With a false wish to rest well, you spent the night hyperaware of the surroundings. Your old room brought memories you were not too fond of; the fake light aura that surrounded you, with all the soft and plush fabrics and luxurious ornaments made you feel sickly. You were often trapped in here, as your father explained it by protection and keeping you pure. A golden cage, an exclusive prison. He kept you out of the world, giving you no choice but to sneak out on your own to train or see people. If not for that, you'd probably go insane very quickly and as the time had passed, you were impressed with yourself that you remained the clarity of mind. You went through all of it, the many years of mental, violent training that were often close to break you down. Strict rules of your palace made you depressed in every meaning of this word; at one point you were too afraid to speak, you were frightened to look anyone in the eyes – even if it was just a servant of yours. Your life wasn't easy. The princess title covered all of it up, dressing your misery in fairy tale stories and glittering the dark path you had to walk through.
The next day began just as you expected. A breakfast, beautifully spread on the large, long table where you sat down facing your father, focusing on the food rather than his demanding gaze that seemed to pierce right through your soul. He was displeased by your sight; you could tell that right away. Disgusted even.
"There are stories that reach our ears," he began; the annoyance apparent in his voice even though you could tell he was trying to sound calm. The tension in the air was thick and heavy, palpable enough to make you feel suffocated.
"Regarding...?”
"Regarding your behavior in Konoha. Rumors have it, you're serving the society of the village. You're quite liked in here, aren't you?" The question was rhetorical and during the speech, there was a few accents put onto certain words with the most apparent note of disgust that surrounded the word serving.
"That's a part of my duty, as of a wife to—"
"Cut the bullshit. As a wife, you should be at Senju's feet. Do you not know how a marriage should look like?" Your father got up, slamming his fist on the table, knocking down glasses as your food bounced on the porcelain plate. That’s about it when it came to the breakfast. "I have given you up believing you're well prepared, but I see I was wrong. Can you imagine my disappointment, my shame when my people talk about your treatment to your husband?!"
"With all due respect, but Konoha has different vision on marriage and I fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities. My husband is—"
"Shut your mouth when I'm talking," he groaned, cutting you off yet again and you sighed, putting down the chopsticks. Peaceful breakfast wasn't what you’ve expected anyway. "You, acting all lovey-dovey with that man is an insult to our tradition, to our people. It's been almost a year and I was patient, hoping you'd realize your place, but as of now I don't see any other choice, than to put you in it myself."
"What does it even mean? Your superiority over me ended the day I was married off. Now the only person that can give me orders is Tobirama, not you, and he do not wish me to serve him."
"Spare your words until I lose control."
You shut up, wondering if it’s worth it to just leave the palace and get back to Konoha earlier. It would for sure make a fuss but if you were careful enough, you might not interrupt the negotiations that were taking place. Without a warning, two women entered the room, cutting your thoughts short as they grabbed you by the shoulders and dragged outside with force. You were aware of a place you were heading to. Little, closed house-like building, but small enough to fit one room and a small bathroom. It was like a basement even though it wasn’t underneath the ground. It was dark, with no windows. A prison your parent used to put you in to 'teach you a lesson'.
Your father wanted to break you, to plant the seed of fear in you that would bloom into your compliance to Tobirama later. That would push you down to the ground and make you stay at that level, so the Senju can tower above you. A wife that’s perfect, according to the misogynistic tradition of your land, is the one who’s humble and obedient, who doesn’t speak up and is afraid to do so. Woman’s role in the marriage was objectified – a woman was meant to speak when asked and be silent when she’s not, she was meant to keep her head low, mouth shut and legs open to fulfill the desires of her husband. To give birth to as many heirs as the man pleased to have. It looked like this for decades in your village and you happened to disagree with that from the youngest age, what saved you from an early marriage. You couldn’t be more thankful for the agreement between Yu and Konoha, but your father was far from happy.
When the doors closed, trapping you inside with two men you had seen for the first time, the terror began but you had no intentions of giving in. Not this time. When you were younger, you just took it – too afraid to show any fighting skills that you were learning in secret from the world, but now it didn’t matter. You fought the physical abuse for a day, but your body was weakened and you assumed it was something you were sneakily given during breakfast. It was everything but a surprise to you. Your father was known for his toxic behavior, as he would often poison you to weaken your reactions, and then ‘show you your place’. You should have known better to not eat or drink anything he’s giving you.
The nightmarish treatment of kicks and punches was something your body remembered but weaned from. It's been almost a year since you were beaten for the last time, as Tobirama kept you safe and warm in his embrace. The men didn't care about the marks that were appearing on your body. Your father will sooner or later inject you another one of his mixtures that make bruises invisible to the eye, but leaving the pain of them. It was a brutal ritual he often used to place you in order. Something you hated more than anything but had to learn to live with. Minozuki wasn't stupid, he knew he cannot leave any signs of abuse on you to prevent your husband from knowing as he suspected he wouldn’t be as grateful as he should be. But it was a service, your father thought – it was a favor he was doing towards the young Senju, because clearly he wasn’t able to discipline you himself.
The torture took two days, although for you it felt like eternity. There was little to no perception of time in a space with no daylight and no clocks. Every bone, every muscle hurt – even your hair and nails burned with pain. It'll go away, you told yourself, repeating it like a spell to push through it. Two days of the hell had already passed, meaning you’ll go home soon. Conveniently, you were expected to stay as long as the negotiations in Konoha are taking place, and there even was a delegation from your village, probably to make sure your husband is not leaving. Minozuki thought of everything – it wasn’t a coincidence that he invited you now. He knew damn well you’ll come alone.
“How’s my daughter doing?” Your father’s voice reached your ears from outside, where he met with your abusers to get reports on the progress. The door stayed open, but even if you’d want, you couldn’t escape now. Not when you were that weak, not when they were standing right behind the wooden entrance and especially not in your current state. You could taste nothing but blood, it coated your mouth and half of your face. You were coughing it out for god knows how long, something inside of you had to be damaged. Something had to be fractured enough to release a constant flow of red through your lips. For the nth time you felt like you’re gonna pass out, an exhaustion taking the best of you, the world spinning more and more right before your eyes.
“She’s stubborn,” one of the men responded, and the second agreed. Their voices were faintly hearable for you now, barely coming on top of the intense ringing in your ears. “At this rate she’ll have her bones broken but learn nothing.”
“So, change the tactic. Use every mean.”
“Yes sir.”
The change of tactic caught you off guard. Never before your father had a reason to use any kind of sexual abuse towards you, hence you couldn’t be prepared for that at all and at first, you couldn’t even tell what was happening. You were once again forced to swallow down a liquid in which another dose of drugs was dissolved. At this point, you were close to throwing it up as it forced down the blood back to your stomach. When it began taking over your body, you felt like you’re levitating. You were able to move, barely, but your limbs felt numb. You had no control over them, but your mind stayed intact. Aware of what was happening, you felt like you’re standing next to yourself, observing with no power to react. That out of body experience frightened you to the core, you never felt like this before.
And then, you were reminded of a mark on your body, that Tobirama left before you departed. It was one of those he used to teleport himself between places. He wanted to make sure you’re safe during the travel or your stay in the palace. He was well aware of how scared you were going there, even though you tried not to show it, you did your best to not worry him with your family issues. But he knew better, he made you promise you’ll use it if something’s wrong, so he can appear instantly and protect you, but you swore to yourself you won’t bother him. His job in Konoha was so important, you couldn’t bring him in just because you were kicked in the gut but when it got to you what was happening now, what your father meant by saying every mean, you got truly scared.
The men grabbed you, began tugging and jerking your body, as they were fighting with every last bit of power you had left to push them away. The intention was clear as they were pulling your clothes, ripping the seams, cutting the straps, revealing more and more of your skin, squeezing and slapping your body, groping everywhere. The feeling of disgust began overflowing your mind. Was that really what your own father allowed to happen? Before marrying you off he put so much effort into keeping you pure and now he was just okay with you being used in this dingy, dark cage? You couldn’t push them away; your body was too weak, your hands had no strength as they met the much larger bodies of your abusers. Biting your thumb open, you smeared the blood over the marking on your forearm, focusing every last bit of chakra that you had in there, alarming your husband.
In the middle of talking, Tobirama fell quiet. The feeling of your energy calling for him paralyzed him for a split second as he knew you wouldn’t use his marker if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. He knew you all too well to know you were too stubborn to call for him for as long as you can withstand whatever was happening and the thought of what pushed you to do so froze the blood in his veins. What on earth was happening in your village?!
“Tobirama?” Hashirama addressed the silence, looking up to his brother, immediately noticing something was wrong. Just as if Yugakure delegation noticed as well, they began asking more questions, aiming towards the younger Senju to distract him from the feeling but the hokage got up, dismissing his brother with a pat on the shoulder. “Let’s take a break.” Hashirama’s authoritative voice wasn’t up to any discussion and nobody dared to say a word.
You fought with all of your might, forcing yourself through the drugs, fueling your muscles with remains of your chakra just to move them, to push those men away from you. With a whine, you fell down to the ground, after being striked in the head but your body didn’t reach the floor. Appearing suddenly, a strong arm wrapped itself around you, situating you under the wall gently. Seeing the familiar face in front of you, you exhaled in relief. Tears rolled down your cheeks, the marking worked after all and you knew damn well that Tobirama would come and help you eventually, but to see how fast he reacted warmed your heart all over again.
Senju was enraged by the sight he was met with. Your body, partially undressed was covered in purple signs of abuse, in the red patterns of blood that was gushing out of your mouth and two men in front of you were trying to take advantage of the half-conscious state you were in. He had no idea why were you so barely present, but it wouldn’t surprise him if it was some kind of drug coursing through your system. Your father was nowhere to be found and the more he looked around, the more dried blood caught his attention. Furrowing his brows, he groaned in anger, easily beating down two offenders that dared to lay a finger on his wife and he wished to give them a bigger lesson, to make them suffer longer, to beat them harder, but all of that could wait. Now you were the top priority for him. Now he had to take you home, to safety.
“Hey,” he said, forcing himself to sound calmer than he was, as he squatted in front of you, swooping your body from the floor with such gentleness that you barely felt any pain.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” you muttered, leaning into the familiar scent of his neck. Even though you were barely registering the world around you, fighting with your own perception, you would recognize him everywhere. In a matter of second you were back in Konoha, in your own bathroom and the light of it made you squint and whine against Tobirama’s shoulder.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and you’ll rest, alright?” He spoke softly and his deep, caring voice soothed your nerves.
“You can go back to your duties, I can manage…” In hopes to reassure your husband, you tried to stand on your legs but as soon as your weight landed on them, you began to fall. It’s only thanks to the protective embrace around you that you didn’t reach the tiles.
“I’ll stay with you as long as you need me to. Please accept my help and don’t worry about the negotiations. The most important parts of it are already sealed, my brother can deal with the rest alone.”
With a nod, you draped your heavy arms around his shoulders, melting into his large body, into the safety of him. Everything hurt you, the pain felt unbearable just a second ago, but such close contact with Tobirama made It worth pushing through.
“I love you more than my own life, Tobirama,” you whispered against his chest, pressing your lips right above where his heartbeat echoes. “I’m so grateful that you came, that you saved me before they—”
“Ssh, it’s okay, you are now safe with me,” he hushed you gently. He sounded calm, his tone was warm and he showed nothing but love and patience to you, but inside of him there was a storm raging. Not now, he reminded himself in his thoughts. His fingers were stroking your hair whilst the other hand kept a hold around your waist, keeping you up and standing. He could feel how weak you were, how little chakra was circling in your system – an effect of you using it constantly to fight back the assault. Tobirama prioritized you above everything else right now, but in his head, he already planned the visit to your homeland.
Those people, your father… they needed to learn why they don’t want any problems with him.
taglist: @garouaddict @bluebreadenthusiast @nelivv - I tagged everyone who asked for continuation, please let me know if you want to be tagged for the future parts loves! (and don't be shy to tell me if you don't want to be tagged as well!)
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