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sociopathicartist · 2 months ago

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Redamancy - The act of loving in return

(PART 3 OF THE SERIES APRICITY)

DUST/MURDER SANS X READER

Dust would never tell anyone, but sometimes whenever he laughed with you and watched as the corners of your eyes crinkled and your soft lips curled into the smile he loved, he felt sad.

Why did he feel sad? There were many tragedies about his life, but you smiling was not one of them.

He would watch as you looked for him every time you entered a room, and he saw your face light up whenever you noticed him lurking.

Why did he feel almost… Guilty?

Maybe the times when your hands gently traced around his shoulders as you fixed the hood to his jacket gave him a weird remembrance of a time when he was loved.

He used to be someone. Something.

Or maybe it was how you trusted him so openly despite knowing every horrible thing he’s done. Maybe that made him feel sad. He didn’t want to hurt you, to use you. He wasn’t, but some part of him was scared that he would end up doing so.

It was hard to be able to trust himself on these things. There was a time when he would never even be able to fathom killing his brother, let alone the entire underground population, but here he was now, a murderer.

A monster.

Despite everything, the horrible flashbacks he had, the weird sad feeling he had whenever he saw you, despite it all, some part of him told him that it would be okay. At least it would be okay in the moments where he got to trace his phalanges through your hair while you sat in front of him, happily watching the movie that you’d put on the TV.

Fuck, it would be over for both of you if anyone figured out how many kisses you’d stolen from each other in secret. If anyone found out how deeply he longed to be entangled with you as you whispered to him that it was alright, that nothing bad had happened to him yet and he would wake up tomorrow and it would all be okay.

Whenever he was loved.

Whenever he was someone’s brother. Whenever his home felt like home.

He didn’t have enough time with you. Maybe the guilty and sad feeling came from knowing that he couldn’t do this forever with you. You would die. Or he would die. Or you two would fight so bad that everything you’d both worked for would be over like that- gone and as the two of you had never held each other.

One day it would happen. One day one of you will end up alone- whatever the circumstances are.

Was it selfish of him to wish that if anything happened, he was the one who died? That the memory of him in your mind stayed warm and fond, and that he didn’t have to go on living without you?

Whenever it happens one day, his scattered dust will still have visions of you. In the impossible world where he has become beyond living, and he is now gone into another life, his soul will still call for your name every night. Your beautiful face will still be housed in every corner of his mind, and as his life dissipates into the void, he knows that the sick, gross, and humiliating feeling of pure want and need for you will never go away as long as the multiverse still has your hands in it.

Whenever he wandered along Snowdin, broken, dusty, and despised.

Maybe it was how you hugged him tightly as you cried, wanting to get out of the castle and wanting a better life for the both of you. Maybe that’s what gave him the sad feeling.

Amongst the many other things he would never tell you- one of them was how scared he was. He got along so well with you and it was horrifying. Everything he had come to know with you could be ripped from his life. All of the nights you spent with him laughing and talking about another life together, or talking about your day- or just anything. All of the times he had brushed your hair for you when you felt too weak and you were too demotivated to even bring yourself to view your face in the mirror. All the times he had convinced Nightmare to let you come along with him and the other two skeletons on a mission- just so that you could have fun in the city and stay in the cozy hotel beds while he went out with Horror and Killer on a life-threatening mission.

It could be ripped from him in a moment.

And one day- it would be.

But sometimes on the nights when he didn’t get to sneak across the castle so that he could lay with you for just a few moments longer, he’d find himself in the garden looking up at the stars and wondering about another world where the two of you could be together fully.

He dreamed of being able to take you out on dates like he wanted and getting to watch you as you got ready for the day. He wanted so bad- so inhumanely, disgustingly, painfully bad to be able to wake up with you in the mornings and brush some hair out of your face as he admired you.

You were just breathtaking- fucking- he couldn’t even put the right words on it. His expansive vocabulary was suddenly drained as his mind went numb with nothing but the mere thought of you. Did you know that he watched you as you laughed and that he thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen? Did he ever tell you that?

It was so easy for him to think about the times when he would lay on the floor at night in his room while Papyrus slept soundly, wondering why his life had turned out like this and why he had no motivation to do anything anymore. You knew he was a horrible person, and he had told you of the awful things he’d done, and yet you loved him still.

Did he ever tell you that there was a time when he laughed with his friends, and nothing had changed yet? Had he told you about the good parts of his life that made what he had to do so much worse?

Will there ever be a time when you are no longer such a large part of him? It was insane to think that there was once a time when he didn’t even know you existed- and worse- a time when he didn’t even care if you were dead. Will he ever be able to take the stuffed animal off his bed that he only likes because you got it for him?

Whenever he had nothing.

He prayed to nonexistent gods throughout the multiverse that there would be a time when he doesn’t feel like the best thing he can do for you is stay away from you for the rest of your life. All he’s doing is making it harder for you whenever he dies.

Obviously, he will die. Come on, there’s no way he can keep doing this for the next five hundred years. He keeps waiting for the day that someone will nick him just right despite all of his fighting, and he will be gone for good this time.

He hoped that once he’s gone, you’re able to laugh with someone else as you laugh with him. That you can watch the same movies with someone else that you’ve watched with him. That you still love him, but you’re at peace without him, and you’re happy.

Is it selfish of him to want to listen to your heartbeat every night as he falls asleep?

Will there be a day when you no longer wake up with things to tell him? Whenever he’s dead and gone, will you be able to wake up in the mornings and not wish that he was there?

When he’s gone, will you notice?

Some selfish part of him hopes that he’ll always have a place in your heart.

Maybe he gets sad whenever he watches you struggle in his favorite video game that he’s trying to teach you how to play. You keep messing up on the same level, and you’re grinning at him as you’re asking how in the world he’s able to beat it.

You’re his best friend. His lover. He hopes that you never learn how to beat his favorite game so that he can keep teaching you how to play it forever.

Maybe the sad feeling comes from the little warm feeling in his ribcage that he gets whenever he watches you walk away, and he’s already missing you.

Maybe it’s because as he listens to you talk with him, and time slows while he stares at you and takes in everything about you, he realizes that he’s viewing every moment with you like it’s already happened. There will be a time when he won't get to experience this again, and he won't get to feel your soft hands cup his face and be told that you love him no matter what.

Whenever he was loved.

Whenever he was someone’s brother. Someone’s friend.

Whenever he looked at home and smiled.

Whenever the life that he had known started to become cruel, his world crumbled.

Whenever he wandered along Snowdin dusty, broken, and despised.

Whenever he had nothing.

Whenever he was nothing.

Can some part of him still believe that despite everything, your hands will reach out to him, hold him, and remind him of a time when he was loved?

#undertale #undertale au #undertale alternate universe #sans #sans undertale #sans x reader #sans x you #sap #classic sans #sans headcanons #dust sans #dust tale #dusttale #murder time trio #murder sans #bad sans gang #bad sanses

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stayevildarling · 4 years ago

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Wilhemina Venable x Reader- When the time is right - Pt 1

Part 2, Part 3

word count: 3.8k

warnings: mention of scoliosis, angst + fluff at the end

A/N: This story is kind of an AU. Reader meets Venable when Wilhemina is light Mina (orange hair, adorable, cute, friendly) and they get together. One day Wilhemina breaks it off suddenly and they only reunite years later but Reader is met with a much darker version (dark Mina).

Also, this used to be on my Wattpad but I decided to completely rewrite it and add multiple parts

Taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @rainbow-hedgehog, @mrsdeanhoward, @alexajbitar, @in-cordelias-coven, @kenzbro, @loverofallthingssarah, @twistedpoeticjustice, @billiebeanhoward, @minaslittleone, @lilypadscoven, @vintagepaulson, @ninaahs, @whitelotus00, @httpfiftyshadesofgay

-Flashback-

''Are you serious right now after all we have been through?'' you try hard not to scream but it feels like your body is on fire, your lungs are burning, heart racing and your eyes watering. You cannot believe you are having this conversation with your girlfriend Wilhemina right now. After a whole year of knowing each other and eventually giving the relationship a go she is talking about moving on.

'It's for the best'' is all she said in return and then she walked out, cane in her hand hitting the floor hard and not once did she look back, she ignored your cries, you begging her to stay and please turn back around. You keep repeating this is a nightmare and you are gonna wake up any minute to her holding you in her arms. But it was no nightmare and she did walk out of your shared apartment and ever since that day you have tried to move on. But no matter what you did working, moving out of the apartment, meeting friends, getting to know new people it didn't work, Wilhemina was always on your mind, when you are asleep she would visit in your dreams, when you are driving or outside and a song plays, she is there in your memory as if she never left in the first place.

-End of Flashback-

Even right now as you are walking through the streets on your lunch break, coffee in your hand and earphones in your ears listening to music she is here again.

''I never needed you like I do right now....I never hated you like I do right now'' as you hear those lyrics your heart skips a beat and it feels like it is breaking all over again. You tried everything you could think of, start a new job in a new field, you moved to a new city but nothing seems to be able to take your mind off the redhead, clouding your mind, her touch still so present lingering on your skin, her voice still ringing through your ears and the smell of lavender following you wherever you go.

Currently, you are working for a company in California, in the social media department and to promote the brand and their work. It's mostly boring but you do enjoy social media and advertisement so you gladly took the job considering it comes with a higher paycheck and a brand new apartment. There was nothing left in your old city, no friends anymore because you drove them all away as they always talked badly about your ex-girlfriend and the feelings you still have for her. No family because you were kind of always on your own and after quitting your job there, there was nothing holding you back. The woman with red-orange hair and a purple obsession is currently on your mind again and no matter what you do she is stuck in your head, like a catchy record and it hurts. As you think about her a wave of flashbacks hit you, with no way of putting a stop to it and keeping the storm at bay.

''Wilhemina Venable, nice to meet you'' was the first few words that you ever heard her say and for a moment you were so struck that you couldn't even say anything. ''Cat got your tongue hmm?'' was what she said afterward and what got you to snap out of it, introduce yourself, and shake her hand. And when you touched her for the first time you knew you would never ever get tired of feeling her soft hands.

You would also never grow tired of looking into her beautiful brown eyes or the soft smile she would give you whenever she would see you. Back then you just finished college and you took your first job and she was your co-worker. Starting a relationship with a co-worker is sometimes frowned upon and there probably are good reasons for that but you didn't listen, not to your friends telling you not to do it and not to the other co-workers after they noticed the glances you and Wilhemina exchanged at work. But you both never let that stop you and you fell for her and you fell hard.

Although you had some crushes before, mostly on teachers in college or celebrities, you never had been in a relationship before. Every morning before work you would get up so early and make sure to put your best clothes on, you would improve your makeup skills and try different hairstyles to impress Wilhemina and you did. She would notice how often you would come around to her desk and ask her silly questions you both knew the answers to but you pretend you didn't. And eventually, she took all of her confidence and asked you out and that night was the most magical night of your life.

You went to an expensive restaurant and after she took you home and she gave you something that night that was precious and you held onto it till today. Patience. She was your first love and she made sure to not rush, to not hurt you, to be there for you and hold you whenever you needed her. After your first date, you went on some more magical nights together, before you were ready to allow her to love you and to love her in return and she made you feel things you never felt before. She would make your whole body feel beautiful and worthy, all your insecurities left whenever you were around the woman who had many insecurities herself due to her back. And that's probably what you admire most about her, the way she made you feel whenever you were with her.

Thinking about all this, you think back to the many dates you both went on, to restaurants, shopping, the movies, car dates, attending work parties together, going to get drunk together. Life felt so easy with Wilhemina around, although she was a few years older than you she was pure, she was funny, soft, kind, precious and she was innocent. She would always treat people with respect and offer help and you loved her beautiful and kind personality. You never thought that one night after being with each other for almost a year she would randomly walk out of your life and not once turn back around or try and talk about it.

Hearing the lyrics repeat, you sigh and shake your head because it is true, one part of you needed Wilhemina back in your life because no matter what you do you can not get her out of your head or heart for that matter. Part of you does hate her for leaving and walking out, you never cried harder in your life than the night she left and you couldn't function for days. All you did was cry, toss and turn in the bed or curl up on the floor in a little ball until you couldn't cry anymore but the pain never stopped. It took days and in the end, your friends who picked you up again, taught you how to take care of yourself again by eating, showering, getting dressed, and going to work and you hoped that moving and changing jobs would change something.

As you are sitting in a park, only a few blocks away from your new workplace, watching people having picnics, playing with their kids, walking their dogs, or doing exercise you realize that all this wasn't worth it. Moving away, leaving your job, apartment and friends did nothing, you still miss her and she still haunts you. You miss her gentle side, the soft Mina as you used to call her, who would hold you in her arms, who would say soothing words until you would fall asleep, and who would make you feel better after a hard day at work, hold you after a nightmare or would let you ramble about another one of the co-workers annoying you. You miss telling her about your days and how you feel because you could be free with her and be who you are and you haven't been that way in a very long time.

Checking your phone you notice your lunch break is over in five minutes so you toss your empty coffee cup in a nearby trash can and walk back to your office. Today has been particularly boring because all you have to do is answer people's dm's and requests on social media because currently there is no campaign going on. As you walk back to your desk you put your coat and bag away and start logging onto your laptop. That's when you hear your boss on his way to your desk and you can't help but internally roll your eyes. He isn't a bad guy or anything, he is in his fifties, grey hair, always wearing a suit and he treats you with respect and you appreciate him but whenever he would approach you it means a problem, like an advertisement going wrong or a complaint or a new major client and that means longer hours and staying in the office till midnight. Not that you mind considering there is nothing or no one to come back home to.

''Y/N'' he says as he finally reaches your desk. Looking up from your desk, you force a smile and reply ''Yes Mr. Odell what can I do for you?''. By his posture, you can tell he is in some kind of distress.

''Listen we have a potential new client and I want you to come to our first meeting with them'' he says excitedly and you question why he can't just bring his assistant. ''I can't bring Janet she is sick so I need you to get your things'' he explains and you log off your computer, take your coat and bag and follow him outside the building. It is quite chilly, so you are glad that you put a jacket over your blazer.

As the familiar buildings and streets fade into the distance, you try not to zone out like you usually would but these days your mind would often be preoccupied with daydreams or memories as if someone else was entirely in control of your thoughts.

''I have a meeting with a Mr. Pfister and Mr. Nutter'' he says absent-mindedly while looking into his calendar and talking about the company you are headed to. Snapping out of your thoughts, you nod and mumble ''Of course Mr. Odell'' before averting your gaze back to the window looking at the hectic city and people going on about their days. Your thoughts wander back to work and you try to think of a few possibilities to advertise their products, as that might not be as easy as you originally thought when agreeing on accompanying your boss.

The first thing you see as you walk into a large unfamiliar building, following your boss's steps, is a front desk with some employees sitting there, it seems that this building is home to a few companies and different departments as they guide people into different parts of the building. You watch as your boss approaches the front desk, ''Hello may I help you?'' a woman with blonde hair asks politely.

''Yes I have a meeting with Kineros Robotics'' he says and she looks at you, then him again, and points towards a sign. ''It's to your right just follow the signs'' she says and you notice how her facial expression changed from nice and friendly to cold and possibly scared? after your boss mentioned the company name. Reading people's expressions and understanding their underlying feelings, has always been something you are good at but you quickly shake the thought away and follow your boss.

As you walk down the corridor you see a young woman with long brown curled hair wearing a blouse with flower prints and a skirt run down the hall with a box in her hand, her heels echoing through the building. ''I'm sorry'' she mumbles hectic and nervous as she zooms past you and you give Mr. Odell a questioning expression before reaching the department.

''I'm so sorry there was a bad accident on the 101'' you hear the woman say and then you hear a sound that sounds both so familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The cane tapping. For a moment you freeze, knowing this isn't just any cane tap as you are so used to a certain redhead woman expressing her emotions partly through the very device that helps her keep her balance. Despite not having heard the sound in over a year, you know exactly who must be on the other end of the hallway.

Temporarily you freeze, thinking maybe her leaving you and breaking things off with you, has ultimately clouded your senses and affected your brain and maybe you are imagining everything. After all the rational part of yourself, is trying to remind you that there is no explanation right now as to why she would be here of all places.

However, the next thing you hear is a clear confirmation that your brain is not tricking you, it's not your mind so clouded by her absence, she is here, the only thing keeping you from seeing each other is a wall and a few steps apart. As you hear a familiar voice your heart stops beating and your throat goes dry.

''Not as bad as the accident that brought you into the world'' that is all you heard and although her voice sounds more cold, harsh and raspy you are fully aware that Wilhemina is sitting at the end of that corridor. For a moment your body goes into a state of shock, your ears ringing, vision blurring, and your heart beating out of your chest.

Shortly after the girl what you assume now to be an assistant comes running back towards the corridor with tears in her eyes and her heels making the same clicking sound. She zooms past you and Mr. Odell again and all he says is ''Damn she seems feisty'' and you know it's aimed at Wilhemina and for a moment you debate whether to just turn around and pretend to be sick or needing to answer a phone call but you know you can't back out now, after all, you have missed seeing her for too long now.

All you wanna do is see her adorable orange hair, that you used to run your fingers through and untangle some knots after she had a long day, the dorky glasses that you sometimes made fun of, and beautiful pastel purple probably everywhere if this truly was her workplace after all. ''Come on'' your boss says, pulling you out of your thoughts yet again and you walk into the large room.

Eyes instantly wander to the source of purple in the room and the source of darkness in your heart and emptiness ever since she left but not only does your heart stop for a moment as you take a look at her, you blink a few times, now actually sure whether this is real or some kind of nightmare.

Wilhemina's hair is a much darker shape of red now and styled into a tall sharp quiff, no sign of her usual high ponytails anymore or the lighter and orange shape it used to be. You notice she doesn't wear glasses anymore and you are convinced her eyes look an even darker shape than before too. She is wearing a dress and it's also a very dark shade of purple with matching earrings. Even her makeup is darker, and as you see her sitting by her desk you can't deny how intimidating she seems, looking at some files, her cane resting on the desk right beside her. Even the cane is different now, it has a snake shape at the top and it's not the old plain one she used to have.

For a moment you believe you just walked right into your own personal nightmare, the funny, sometimes sassy, and beautiful girl you used to love now seems like a completely different and somewhat evil person. The Wilhemina you once loved and still have feelings for, as they never truly changed, seems gone and it seems like she was replaced by a new one, a colder version.

She would have never spoken to anyone like that or treated someone the way she just treated that girl that seems to be her assistant, by the looks of it. All the staring and observing Wilhemina happened in a matter of seconds although it feels like an eternity, everything is silent for a moment, all that is to be heard is your own heartbeat and the typing on Wilhemina's keyboard.

You watch as your boss approaches her and you follow him and finally, Wilhemina looks up noticing the presence of someone else in the room and her gaze is focused on him, so she hasn't seen you yet. He tries to shake her hand and says ''My name is Mr. Odell I have an appointment with Mr. Nutter and Mr. Pfister'' and she just looks at him and his hand with a slightly disgusted expression but she doesn't bother shaking his hand.

''Very well'' she says and takes a glance at you for a split second, noticing a second person in the room and her eyes wander back to her laptop thinking you are just some assistant but when she realizes who you are she immediately looks back over to you and she doesn't avert her gaze at first.

Wilhemina takes in your features for a moment, the sense of fashion, dressing smartly and formally but at the same time stunning as she always said, your hair, the improved makeup skills, and still the same details she always loved about you. She doesn't look into your eyes yet and you are interrupted when two men walk over.

One of them has brown hair and the other blonde hair and you try hard not to chuckle when you see them because they look hideous. ''Mr. Odell, nice to meet you'' they say and shake hands. ''This is Y/L/N maybe someone could show her around while we finalize the details?'' your boss suggests, taking you by surprise, and one of the two turns to Wilhemina and says ''Miss Venable would you give this beautiful lady a tour please''.

For a split second, you are convinced, she is about to kill him but you aren't sure if it's about the tour or compliment. ''Of course'' she mumbles and your boss and the two men leave and you are left there with your ex-girlfriend and awkward silence filling the room. You haven't looked up or into her eyes yet and it terrifies you, she terrifies you.

Wilhemina has no idea what to do or how to react after not seeing you for two years and the last time she did she walked out of your life and your relationship. The redhead looks at you and without looking into your eyes yet she knows the pain, she can see it and she can tell this is killing you inside, the last thing she ever wanted was to cause you pain.

You take a deep breath with your eyes closed and turn to Wilhemina and your eyes instantly lock and you look into her dark brown eyes and not leave her gaze for one moment. She takes a few slow steps towards you, her cane hitting the floor, and with every tap and echo in the room, it feels like your heart is ripped into more pieces and your past is here confronting you right at this moment.

''Mina'' is everything you can say but it comes out as a whisper while your voice cracks. Your ex-girlfriend's eyes close right away because she has missed hearing you call her that for the past two years but as she opens her eyes she reminds herself internally, who she is and that she is currently at her workplace.

''Follow me'' she instructs and you follow her while she walks down a corridor and into a room with big machines. While you follow her you can't understand what would have happened to her to turn into this cold-hearted person. She used to be the sweetest and kindest person you knew but clearly, something has changed. You cannot take your eyes off her and as she walks you into the room with machines, she explains about the work they do here and how they do it and as much as you try to focus and look at the things she shows you, you can't and Wilhemina notices.

''Do I bore you?'' she suddenly snaps in that cold voice again, her nostrils flaring and your heart feels like a knife was just thrown right into it. ''I'm sorr- sorry I-'' but you can't even think of a good enough excuse so you just look at the floor and try hard to keep your emotions at bay.

''Anyways, these are the machines and devices we use, whenever someone places a custom order we make sure to fulfill that order as efficient and quick as possible'' Wilhemina explains her voice still stern, sounding like she has given this tour so many times, she has memorized every single word.

However, you do notice her looking at you the entire time she explains and it seems like she wants you to say something but there are too many things that you want and wanted to say to her for years but you never imagined one day you would run into her like this. For several minutes the two of you stand in the rooms with machines, Wilhemina explaining and you trying hard to focus on her words intently.

''Y/N'' you hear the voice of your boss coming from the door, the two strange-looking men behind him, and you look at him, noticing the satisfied looks on their faces, indicating the deal worked well, and he says ''I'm finished, thank you, Miss, for giving her the tour'' he adds now focused on Wilhemina. ''Let's go'' he says and you walk in his direction without looking back at her and just as you are about to walk out of the door you look at her and say ''Thank you'' and then you walk out.

As you walk out of the large office building, back through the same long corridor, and past the front desk, you can't hear anything your boss is trying to say and the entire car ride back to the office you try and wrap your head around what just happened, abandoning every single word Mr. Odell is saying.

''This didn't happen wake up Y/N wake-up Y/N'' you keep repeating in your head but it's no use this is no nightmare this is reality.

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theglitterypages · 4 years ago

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25 and 54 for levi ackerman plzzzz?! ❤❤

Based on Prompt 25 and 54: ( 25. “I’ve never met someone like you.” “Because everyone in this world is different and there isn’t another face like mine? Duh?” )

(54. “Brat, I have nothing to lose.” He touched my head. “Or at least once had nothing to lose.”)

Prompts list

Requested by optamisticsmiles and @geese-goose18

Title: His Worst Nightmare

Pairings: Levi x fem! reader

Summary: You're one of the most skilled Captain of Survey Corps but during one of the expeditipn outside the walls some of your Squad's horses were killed. As a captain you wanted to save them, you knew you can survive outside the walls but your squad may not be able to because all of them are tired so you chose to be left outside the walls and you fend for yourself.

Warnings: None might appear to be a little sad though.

Word Count: 2000+

••••••

“Captain! Most of our horses were crushed by the Titans, we won't be able to meet with Commander Erwin and Captain Levi!”

Your grip on your weapon tightened as you saw the terrified look on your comrades' faces, most of them were young yet skilled but you knew this kind of scenario would really shake them up because this is dead end.

“Take the remaining horses and meet with Commander Erwin!” you shouted as you use your gear so you could slice the Titan's nape. “What the fuck are y'all looking at?! Go before the remaining horses get killed!” four of your subordinates looked at you with tears in their eyes, “We can't leave you here, Captain!” you cussed underneath your breath and swung towards an abnormal titan aimimg for the horses.

“We'll all die if you won't follow my orders. This is not a request, it is an order from your Captain, leave! Now!” You growled as you viciously charged yourself towards the Titan to kill it.

When it fell on the ground, lifeless, you immediately looked behind and a small smile made its way across your lips upon seeing your subordinates ride the remaining horses to save themselves.

You tore your eyes away from them and looked at five Titans charging themselves towards you, you only have one blade left and to say that you're exhausted is understatement, you knew that this is the day where you'll die and you'll embrace your death proudly and wholeheartedly.

Dying to save your young comrades would be the most glorious part of your career as a captain, your young comrades has so much to learn, they still have a lot to know but you've already done your part if you will die in here today your only regrets would be the fact that you can't see Levi in your last breath.

But you heard from your father who's a doctor that once a person dies, they will have flashbacks of their whole life, looking at the brighter side you'd probably see Levi on those flashbacks before you die.

“Let's finish this motherfuckers.”

°°°°°

Levi was obviously anxious as he kept on looking behind him, your squad should be here by this time, you should be tailing them now already but he still can't see you not even a sign of any of your squads.

“Levi, we should go faster.”

“She's still out there, if you want to you can go but I'll wait for her...” he whispered in his shaky voice, before it was so damn easy for him to go on because he had accepted the fact that not everyone could go back alive and he has mastered of masking his grief whenever another comrade has fallen.

But if he's gonna lose you the way he lost his comrades, he would lose his sanity, he would probably go mad once that happens.

“Squads of Captain YN approaching!”

Hope bloomed in Levi's heart as he heard the announcement of your squad's arrival but when he looked back there are only two horses with four people and you're not one of them.

He felt like his heart stopped beating when he tried looking back further but still no sign of you, he decided to shout at your subordinates. “Where is your captain?” he asked in a firm tone and none of them answered.

The teens just looked down and one by one, they broke down into tears. “We're very sorry Captain Levi.” Erwin overheard the conversation and he felt himself go numb. He doesn't want to believe it, he's not losing one of his greatest Captain, not today...

“Can you please stop fucking crying and answer me! Where the fuck is my girl?!”

“She ordered us to leave her, she faced the Titans alone, we're sorry...”

Levi immediately pulled the reins backward, halting the horse from running. “I'm going back for her.” Erwin also halted and looked at Levi as he shook his head.

“By the walls, Levi! We can't afford to lose two of our greatest Captains today. We have to move forward.”

“I'm sorry Erwin. She's the only one that I've got, losing her means I'm nothing.”

“Levi!” Erwin called out but Levi still chose to go back to the forest where you should have been.

As he get closer to the forest his heart beats faster and faster at every moment, his determination of finding you kept him going, he would never leave you, not when you're the only one that he has.

On his way towards the heart of the forest he encountered three Titans and he chose to let out his frustration in killing those three viciously.

When he arrived at the heart of the forest, he immediately looked around, there were no bloods but there's still some remaining of the titans that hasn't evaporated yet.

Which only means one thing;

You're alive.

“Brat!” he exclaimed as he saw your figure laying down on a big branch of tree while you hold your weapons close to you, eyes half closed as you breathe heavily.

You could hear his shouts, he's telling you not to go to sleep but as much as you want to do it your eyelids felt heavy, you can feel him gently slapping your cheeks in attempting of waking you but it obviously doesn't work.

“You can't close your eyes, no. Please baby, don't. We made a promise didn't we? You need to stay with me, you promised to stay with me.”

Levi kept you close in his chest as he rides his horse, he silently prayed that there would be no more titans to appear because dealing with them wouldn't be his priority, he has to make sure you'll get back safe, your head was wounded and he's not sure of how serious the injury was so he did what he could and used his shirt as a bandage to stop the bleeding.

“Lev..”

“Just hang in there, don't sleep. I'll tell you stories so don't close your eyes and hold onto me tightly huh? Can you do that for me baby?” he begged tears streaming down his cheeks, the way you called out his name sounded so weak and every time that he'll look at you, he could see your eyes closed and fear filled his heart, something he has never felt years before meeting you.

After his friends died, he made himself tough, promised not to get attached again so he wouldn't have to lose his mind over and over again whenever he lose a comrade but you came along, he wanted to blame Erwin and Hanji for introducing you to him but he actually would thank them, because he never felt this way before.

The way you made him feel at ease, every time you'll hug him he feels contented and peaceful and whenever he feels your lips on his it is his paradise and his days without you in his side is hell.

So he couldn't afford to lose you now, not today not forever.

“I—I love you, Levi. Take care of yourself for me hmm? I'm sorry if I—”

“I'm not listening so whatever you want to say, say it to me when we get back inside the walls.”

Of course, he can hear you clearly but he's not strong enough to hear you say those words he doesn't want to hear you saying that you love him as if you're saying goodbye and that's not what he wants.

“Lev, I'm tired.”

“Baby just hold on, don't leave me please. I'm begging you.”

As he bursted into tears, his mind was filled with memories of you and him together.

Flashback

“Once we eliminated all of the titans, I would open a book shop and I will read for the rest of my life.”

“Where am I in your plans, brat?” he asked his arms wrapped around you as you rested your head in his hard chest. “You would be spending your days sitting beside me while I read.” you playfully said, pressing your lips in his jaw.

Levi looked down at you with a smirk, “That's not so bad but we should open a teashop with a bookshop inside it so people can read and drink tea.” you chuckled. His love for tea is really strong and to be honest there are four of you in this relationship.

Tea, Books, you and Levi.

Well at least there's no other girls, there's just tea and his cleaning obsession, “We'll do that and I'll tell Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Jean, Connie and Sasha to stay with us. I will be making apple pies and they would love it.” you've grown fond of the teens from the 104th, probably because you've seen how they've grown, how the playful teenagers became brave soldiers ready to fight for the humanity.

And you really want this nightmare to end so those kids would have the normal life, “I didn't know we're also planning to open an orphanage now.” he said, sarcasm perfectly implied.

“Quit talking as if you don't like them.”

“If you want children we can make a lot.” he playfully dipped his head down to press his lips on yours and you hold onto his hair as you returned his kisses, when he pulled away, his grey eyes were sparkling as a small smile made its way across his lips.

“God, I’ve never met someone like you.”

“Because everyone in this world is different and there isn’t another face like mine? Duh?”

Levi stared at you, left dumbfounded of how you sassily replied to his heartwarming statement, “You're picking up my attitude, it's alarming.” he sighed pinching your nose as you slapped his hand away.

“Your fault not mine.” You glared with a pout.

End of Flashback

“You can't sleep because our brats are waiting, Mikasa, Armin, Eren, Jean, Sasha and Connie is waiting for us to be back. We'll still eliminate the titans right? We have so much plans baby, don't leave me please.”

“I'm sorry Levi.”

°°°°°°

“Captain...” Levi lazily looked back at him just to see Armin standing awkwardly as he rubbed his nape, “You should eat and go get some sleep.” Armin told him politely, the blond teen doesn't want to make the Captain mad especially he knows what Levi is going through.

“No. Leave my office now.”

“Captain, we know that it's not easy but you can't sacrifice your health.” Eren appeared bebind Armin and soon after, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie and Jean appeared, each one of them carrying different kind of food but Sasha is holding a container of water because the others forbid him in bringing the food, knowing that she might get tempted to eat it.

“Leave me alone and let me work in my office quietly loud brats. None of you knows what I feel.”

“We do. You're not the only one who's sad, we missed Captain YN too but this is beyond our control. The least we can do is to take care of you because we know that she wouldn't want you to be like this.” Mikasa said, her voice devoid of any emotions as she walked towards the Captain as she placed down a tray of food on top of his table.

“We believe that you're old enough to eat by yourself and we wouldn't have to shove that spoon on your mouth just so you could eat.” Mikasa looked at the Captain blankly and when Levi looked up at her, he narrowed his eyes.

“It's really scary how you sounded like me some times, fine, I'll eat so you brats would shut up.”

The teens' faces lit up as they watch Levi eat, he still doesn't look like his usual self because of what happened but they're all not fine but they also knew that they will be.

“Levi! Captain YN is awake.” Hanji said in between hear breaths, Levi didn't respond and left his unfinished food while the teens followed him, running so they could match his pace.

Levi opened the door of the room and he saw you sitting on the bed, the bandage was still on your head, there was a clueless look on your face when your gaze landed at him and Levi immediately ran to hug you tightly.

You let out a sound of surprise and Levi pulled away thinking that he hurt you. “I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened to us? Do you want some water?” you smiled and shook your head, your gaze landed at the flower vase beside your table and Levi saw how your eyes sparkled when you saw the white Carnation.

“I recognize this flower...” you whispered in a soft voice, you reached out for the flower vase before glancing at the man next to you.

“But I don't know you. Who are you?”

The moment you said that, the teens arrived and they heard everything you said. You heard their gasps and you innocently looked up at them, “Hello kiddos, the nurse told me that I've been out for two weeks. I think I missed something, this man suddenly came in here to hug me.” Armin felt cold sweats on his forehead, he doesn't have any idea how to handle this situation especially they saw how heartbroken Levi is.

“Captain, he's your—” before Jean could even finish his sentence, Levi already cut him off, “Leave, brats. Let me talk to her alone.” you frowned at him before glancing at the kids, “Sir, you're not even suppose to be here. Why are you asking them to leave? I know them.” Eren didn't have to hear Levi's reply to you, he just dragged his friends away from that room, scared of what would happen next.

The room was filled with deafening silence after the teens left, Levi was looking down as his breathing got heavier at every minute that passes by while you were still sat on the bed still looking at him cluelessly.

“You don't have to remember me, just let me take care of you, this is better than losing you completely.” he whispered as he took the flower vase from you, placing it back to where it was. “Do you remember anything aside from the kids? Like how you got injured?” he spoke in a calmest way he could even if he's damn broken inside, the first thing he had imagine once you wake up is you hugging him, telling him that you're not leaving him just like what you've promised but here he is sitting on a chair beside your bed while you don't remember him.

When he didn't get any response from you he decided to stand up as his grey eyes got dulled again, it lost the sparks it has earlier.

“You're probably uncomfortable of having a stranger here. I'll go get the nurse.” he turned his back on you to leave but he heard your voice.

“Levi Ackerman, you'll just leave your girlfriend like this then?”

It only took him three seconds to return to where he was, his arms immediately wrapped around yours as he sobbed on the crook of your neck. “I was at the end of my wits, the whole world can forget about me but not you. Don't pull that shit again.” he scolded, you wanted to chuckle or laugh but you couldn't because you heard his sobs, he's like a child as he hug you tightly as if scared that you'll suddenly disappear.

You slowly pushed him away and wiped away his tears as you comb his hair, brushing off some strands of his hair that's hiding his eyes from you. “Sorry, it was a joke and it's obviously not funny.” Levi sighed as he closed his eyes before a low chuckle escaped from his lips, “I can't believe you even picked up my terrible sense of humour.” he whispered weakly as he pulled you close for another hug. For two hellish weeks he drowned himself in paperworks and in between those times he'll be looking after you while you sleep and it drained him a lot.

“You lost weight.” you stated. You memorized every inch of Levi's body and 2 weeks of being unconscious wouldn't change that fact, you knew that he lost weight, those dark circles around his eyes also suggests the fact that he didn't have lots of sleep.

“You scared me.”

“Where was the guy who told me once that he has nothing to be afraid of 'cause he got nothing to lose?” you brows raised and Levi rolled his eyes before leaning in to kiss you quickly.

“Brat, I have nothing to lose.” He touched your head, his grey eyes looking down on yours as a genuine smile made its way across his lips. “Or at least once had nothing to lose.” he whispered before cupping your face for another kiss, much longer than the first ones, it was also slower as if he's still trying to make sure that everything is real, he's still trying to make sure that his worst nighmare wouldn't happen.

His nightmare where he lost you.

#aot fanfiction #aot x y/n #aot x you #captain levi #levi ackerman #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #levi x y/n #attack on titan #levi ackerman fluff #levi x you #reader insert #snk x you #snk x y/n #snk levi #aot levi

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willowcrowned · 4 years ago

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kit fisto carpet artisan

thank you for reminding me.

So, the important part of the Kit Fisto carpet artisan au is that he leaves the Order to make carpets. The going theory among the jedi is that he had an uncle on Coruscant that left him a carpet shop and he decided to stop being a Jedi to carry on the dying trade, but no one knows but him, and he’s not telling. He also takes Nahdar, his padawan, with him. If Nahdar knows why Kit left, he’s not telling anyone either.

So by the time Anakin is sixteen or so, Kit Fisto, ex-jedi and carpet maker extraordinaire, has a bustling business just outside the senate district— close enough for any of the Jedi to visit. And oh boy do they visit.

Typically, when someone leaves the Order, it’s something only spoken about in hushed tones. There’s no gossip, nor speculation, because Jedi don’t gossip, and besides, they usually already have the reason— while no one is obligated to give a reason for leaving, it’s considered polite to do so. It’s not... dishonorable to leave, but a certain distance inevitably develops. Once someone leaves the jedi, they’re leading a completely different life, and most leave Coruscant entirely.

Kit Fisto is not typical. There’s no warning— not a single inkling that he might be considering leaving the Jedi. One day, he walks into a High Council meeting, declares politely that he’s leaving and taking Nahdar with him, and tells them all they’re welcome to visit him at his new address. (He also makes a point of leaving several of his belongings in his apartment, to give the more decorous members of the Order an excuse to visit.)

Come Monday, Yoda is on his doorstep, probing for answers. Kit does not give them, but he does give Yoda a tour and some tea. When Yoda comes back, cackling and pleased, everyone else takes this as the go-ahead to visit. The jedi visit regularly— only when he’s closed, and only when he has time, but they do come.

This is where the fun begins.

Anakin Skywalker, seventeen years old, very moody and very angry, has an appointment with Palpatine. Anakin Skywalker, seventeen years old, very moody and very angry, has been banned by Obi-Wan from using any speeders, bikes or otherwise, by an exhausted Obi-Wan. (Nominally, it’s because he started a fight in the salles two days ago, but if it keeps him from seeing Palpatine, then so much the better.) (Anakin knows what Obi-Wan is doing, and is furious about it. While perhaps justified, this does not help his case.) So what does Anakin do? He makes his own speeder from old parts. (If he’d thought to call Palpatine, the man would have sent a car for him, but since last time that happened he got a two lecture from both Windu and Obi-Wan, so he’ll just have to be sneaky.)

The problem with speeders cobbled together from old parts is that they have a tendency to break down, usually at the most inopportune moments. For Anakin, this is on the edge of the Senate district, since he was taking a circuitous route to see Palpatine in the hopes of avoiding anyone else he knows. Fortunately, Kit’s shop is nearby, and he’s been with Obi-Wan enough times to know the way.

Anakin walks into Kit’s Artisan Carpets, sopping wet from the rain that just started and looking like nothing so much as a wet kitten. Kit, who has all the grace and wisdom of a jedi master, does not tell him this, and instead offers him a towel and the use of his speeder when Nahdar gets back. In the meantime, he offers, would Anakin like to come see his workshop?

Now, keeping in mind that I know nothing about carpet making, and even less about artisan carpet making, I’m going to say that Kit shows Anakin how to do something simple that’s carpet related. And Anakin likes it. Anakin really likes it. He already loves working with his hands, but this is different. There’s no thinking involved, nothing but the repetitive movement of his hands. Normally, he hates being quiet, being still, but he’s so cold and tired that he’s able to just... drop into a trance. Before he knows it, it’s three hours later and he’s missed the meeting with Palpatine entirely.

Kit sends him back to the Jedi Temple more relaxed than he’s ever been, finally having been able to achieve a meditative state, and with an invitation to come back and help again whenever he’s nearby. When he gets back, Obi-Wan is amazed at how calm Anakin is, and forgets to lecture him on leaving the temple. Anakin does his homework, goes to bed, and when he wakes up, he doesn’t feel so awful.

The next time he comes back from Palpatine’s, riled up and wanting to scream, he stops by Kit’s shop and helps out with some repetitive carpet-related task. The dull motion helps lets his mind wander, but not too far— lets him be still without his brain beginning to scream. For the first time, Anakin is able to meditate without trauma flashbacks or overwhelming, near-painful understimulation.

Once again, he comes back to the Temple calm and slightly better balanced, once again, Obi-Wan doesn’t lecture him. The pattern continues.

Cut to two years later, when Anakin is having nightmares about his mother. Helping out in Kit’s shop lets him meditate on the visions, and Kit has been, well, really great to talk to about attachment. Palpatine is nice and all, but he doesn’t really get the Jedi— has never understood Anakin’s desire to be one. Kit, who knows what is like and is still more Jedi than most Jedi, in Anakin’s private opinion, does.

Kit talks him through visions, helps him articulate his fears, and sends him to communicate with Obi-Wan. When Anakin says that he’s having visions— not just dreams, but solid visions— Obi-Wan promptly requests a sabbatical, and they go to Tatooine.

Obi-Wan helps him rescue Shmi from the Tuskens, and since Shmi is still alive, Anakin has something to focus on instead of his own rage. No Tuskens get murdered— hell, Anakin is so worried about his mom it doesn’t even occur to him to go kill them until after she’s safe. By that point, he’s not in the thick of the moment, so he has time to imagine slaughtering every single one of them before he does it. He thinks of how good it would feel, yes, but also of the screams, of the feeling of their dying minds against his own, and recoils.

When they get back to Coruscant, new fence installed and comm numbers exchanged, Palpatine’s plan is ruined— Amidala already has a jedi protector, no one knows what to do with the dart, and Anakin is much more well balanced now that he’s seen his mother, knows she’s safe, and she’s talked him through his emotions in a way that Obi-Wan can’t.

Does Palpatine give up on Anakin as a lost cause? Absolutely not. He does, however, adjust the plan, leaving an even more obvious trail to Kamino. Obi-Wan still ends up on Geonosis, only this time Anakin is there too, and Padmé isn’t. And, here’s the kicker— neither of them managed to get the message to the Jedi Council, so they’re stuck in their little rotating columns while Dooku stalks around and lies blatantly, waiting for them to be rescued and for the war to start. But the rescue never comes.

After the fourth or fifth day of this, Dooku realizes that if Palpatine managed to mess up such a simple plan, it might not be a good idea to follow his orders. He defects, exchanging everything he knows (which is quite a lot) for amnesty. Obi-Wan agrees to the trade, and the three of them escape Geonosis to go face down Palpatine.

Anakin is predictably furious about this. He doesn’t believe Dooku, of course, and he’s raring to kill the guy, but he’s also pretty sure he can’t take on both Obi-Wan and Dooku and win, so he waits until they get to Coruscant to comm the council. (Dooku lets him do it. The backup will be useful and he thinks he can time it so Sidious is throwing Force lightning at them when Yoda shows up.) (He can totally time it right.)

Yoda shows up just as Palpatine whips out a red lightsaber, since Dooku went straight for the beheading without letting him talk, and Obi-Wan was holding Anakin back to see what would happen. Palpatine could have beaten each of them on their own, probably even two at once, provided Dooku and Yoda didn’t team up— but against Anakin, who could probably vaporize someone with his mind if he tried hard enough, Yoda, who’s seven hundred years old and still wins the jedi parkour championships every year, Dooku, who’s the best duelist the Order has seen in a long while, and Obi-Wan, who, while not space jesus, a prodigy, or seven hundred years old, is no slouch in any jedi department, especially the ones that involve keeping Anakin from doing anything stupid? Yeah, Palpatine loses.

They all stumble into Kit’s Artisan Carpets an hour later, smelling of ozone and repressed emotions just waiting to come out. Kit looks at them all, makes a pot of tea, settles Anakin at his usual carpet-task doing place for some much needed meditation, and locks them in the room to talk.

“So,” Dooku says to Kit the next morning, once they’ve sorted all the politics and some of the emotions out, “what possessed you to take up carpets?”

Kit tilts his head, considering, and answers. “I just felt like it.”

(”Really?” Nahdar asks later. “You’re not going to tell them?”

“Well,” Kit replies, “would they believe me?”

“I guess not,” Nahdar says, “but time travel is hard to believe in.”

“It was more of a vision, really.” Kit huffs. “Besides, I did feel like it. Getting stabbed gives one new priorities.”

“Tell me about it,” Nahdar agrees. “Tell me about it.”)

#this happened because of that one post where a bot took over the kitfisto url to sell carpets #and apparently that concept was an irresistible temptation for me #that likely surprises no one but me #star wars #star wars au #kit fisto: carpet artisan au #willow's aus #kit fisto #star wars fix it au #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #count dooku

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animemental · 4 years ago

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FMA and Trauma Part 3

Hey everyone. I have two blogs: this one and one called pleasegivemescreativity. I made a mistake and accidently posted on the wrong one, so I am copying and pasting back onto Anime Mental. Sorry for the confusion.

This is Part 3 of my Fullmetal Alchemist series of posts.

*CAUTION: THERE WILL BE SPOILERS.

I want to talk about trauma. Trauma sucks. It feels bad, it can have a ghastly affect on your overall well-being and it is downright unfair. Trauma does not discriminate and it does not pull any punches. I think Fullmetal Alchemist is riddled with trauma, as most anime characters have experienced some sort of life changing event. But, the underlying theme of it really makes FMA stand above the rest.

Quick psychology lesson:

Trauma is an emotional response to an event. It is what we feel after something adverse has happened to us. You can experience a traumatic event through different ways: it happens directly to you; you witness it in person or through a screen; you are told about it; or it can happen to someone you know and you find out after the fact, such as learning about a tornado and discovering your friend was injured a few days later when you go to visit.

There are Big Traumas and Little Traumas. Big T’s are life threatening and can cause PTSD, like a natural disaster, war, sexual violence. Little t’s are highly distressing to the individual but do not fall into Big T category such as bullying, loss, break-up of significant other, basically non-life threatening events. You can still experience PTSD from Little t’s, it is just more unlikely. Oftentimes, when you experience consistent trauma, such as abuse or neglect, that becomes Compounding trauma. It stacks up like pancakes and can lead to other mental health issues such as anxiety, depression, bi-polar, etc.

FMA has some pretty obvious Big T’s. When the Elrics lose their mother and witness the horrors of Transmutation gone wrong, that is a Big T like no other. For Ed, having to re-connect his nerves whenever he breaks his automail is a Little t. Al has the constant worry (until they realize the blood does not wash away anymore) about losing his soul through the blood washing away or getting messed up in his armor, which is a Little t. When our body experiences trauma, the brain attempts to help us by shutting down our feelings when we are re-traumatized. It tries to keep you safe by stopping the pain which looks like anxiety symptoms that avoid the triggers. On the other hand, our brains are not wired to deal quickly with intense stress and often have a hard time processing and handling it. This is where the symptoms like flashbacks, intrusive thoughts, nightmares, etc. come into play.

**Edit: Our brain is not naturally wired to deal with intense stress. It can learn to do it but humans are not born with our amygdala ready to take on sexual abuse as if it is an expected, normal thing to deal with. Just to clarify my earlier statement and give an example. Proceed.

Some moments of FMA I think about are the Elrics reactions to the Butcher. You can see him start to break down in absolute terror when he realizes how dangerous the situation is and how helpless he is in that moment to help himself and Winry. Another is when Edward wakes up after nightmares about what happened to Nina and Alexander. During the episode with The Butcher, Ed even mentions that he feels so weak because he can’t even protect a little girl. That’s some trauma right there.

A good example of a repressed memory is when viewers/readers discover Al has blocked out the memory of his soul being trapped inside the monster thing they created during their mother’s Transmutation. I think most of the characters live in a state of repression just to get through the day. So many have seen or personally suffered horrors that I am glad are mostly fiction. The anime/manga’s subtle hints at normal reactions to stress and sorrow is commendable and helped me relate to the characters more as I watched the show.

Trauma is no joke my friends. If you or anyone you know suffers from symptoms of trauma that I have named, do not hesitate to seek the help of a mental health professional. That is why we are here and studied psychology.

So, that concludes FMA for now. Moving along, I am caught between a throw back or a current love. With that being said, I will make a decision but will keep it a surprise! If you like these posts, find them helpful or thin someone would benefit from reading, please like, comment, share, and tag me! I love talking anime just as much as I love talking mental health.

Disclaimer: I am a trained, licensed mental health professional with a graduate degree and in the process of full state licensure. What I discuss is an accurate as I know and have been taught. I am not diagnosing anyone by sharing symptoms, nor am I promoting self-diagnosis. If you have symptoms that are concerning, seek out professional help so that you do not assume and can get the proper treatment for yourself. Adios!

#fma #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #mental health #mental heath awareness #anime and manga #anime #anime icons #manga #ptsd #trauma #mentalwellness

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years ago

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Kurtbastian - “Always and Forever” Chapter 2

After the death of their daughter Grace, Kurt and Sebastian drift apart. Kurt wraps himself up in his grief so tightly he starts to push Sebastian away, and Sebastian, feeling himself shoved aside when he needs Kurt most, cheats. They make the decision to start over, to leave New York City and their pain behind, and start over again in a house Upstate. Sebastian buys Kurt a "fixer upper" and gives him free reign. While redecorating the room that will be his studio, Kurt comes across something interesting underneath the wallpaper. It starts to become an obsession for Kurt - an obsession that begins to replace Kurt's love for his husband, which Sebastian is holding on to by a thread. Can Kurt and Sebastian break through the pain and the hurt and find a way to fall in love again?

Read on AO3

Chapter 2 (5061 words)

The first evening in their new house becomes a long, exhaustive dance of unpacking and cleaning in preparation for the movers to arrive in the morning. What, in the past, would have been an upbeat two-step of flirting in the hallways while lugging in suitcases, punctuated by the occasional stop, dip, and smooch, is now a formal, boxy waltz, with Sebastian giving Kurt a wide-berth whenever he hears his husband coming, and Kurt pausing in doorways, eyes darting elsewhere when Sebastian passes by.

The rush to clear the dirt away and make things suitable for the furniture they chose to bring with them affords Kurt ample opportunities to send Sebastian on a host of errands, ensuring him stretches of time that he can spend alone to reflect and think.

Consider the past and plan for the future.

Even after the furniture arrives, they should have tons of space left. They had decided not to bring everything they own with them. They aren’t selling their penthouse. Keeping it furnished for the odd trip back seems like the practical thing to do. So, they only packed those things that they absolutely could not live without.

They didn’t bring any of the furniture from Grace's room. That Kurt donated to the Salvation Army with the exception of one item – a Winnie the Pooh lamp that he had found in mint condition, ironically, at the Salvation Army, on the day he and Sebastian found out their surrogate was pregnant. It's ceramic, hand-painted, with Christopher Robin and Winnie the Pooh sitting back to back as the base, each holding a handful of balloons. One red balloon, larger than the rest, contains the bulb, the colored plastic lending a rosy tint to its glow. Along the bottom edge are written the words: “If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart, I’ll stay there forever.”

Kurt’s mother had read him Winnie the Pooh books his entire childhood. He could recite most of A. A. Milne’s writings by the time he turned eight.

The year his mother passed away.

He'd read those same books to his daughter. She’d had them mostly memorized, too.

Seven hours of scrubbing, sanitizing, and (for Sebastian) racing around town wipe the two of them out, to the point where falling asleep is simply a matter of inflating an air mattress and putting heads down on pillows. They had picked up a Queen size one at a JCPenney along the way. It’s nowhere near as luxurious as the custom-made King size bed currently stuck in the back of an Allied Moving Truck, waiting to take a journey on the 495. This mattress is a tighter fit than they’re used to. It doesn’t help that the thing sinks in the middle whenever one of them rolls over. With the both of them measuring six-foot-plus tall, they have to lie in the fetal position to fit comfortably, which would require them to spoon. But Kurt finds a way to keep himself out of his husband’s arms.

The material the mattress is made out of seems perpetually ice-cold, not warming up a touch with their combined body heat, which Kurt didn’t anticipate. They have the gas and electricity switched on, but there’s something wrong with the central heating. They don’t have the requisite amount of blankets to keep from freezing, which adds to the misery. Despite being pissed at Sebastian, Kurt doesn’t have the heart to send him out at one a.m. to the 24-hour Walmart, so he closes his eyes and resigns himself to suffering until dawn.

For the next five hours, Kurt’s mind stays blank. No noise, no dreams, and no flashbacks, thank God. It’s not restful, but it’s the best he could have hoped for. The last half a year has not been conducive to dreaming. The nightmares keep coming, one after the other, the next one worse than the last, shaking him to his core until he jars awake with a pain in his chest like someone had tried, in steel boots, to stomp him into the dirt. But waking up doesn’t solve the problem. He doesn’t know what he hates worse – waking up weeping in his husband’s arms or waking up weeping alone.

Kurt’s feelings for Sebastian are complicated when he thinks they shouldn’t be. Kurt should either love him and forgive him or hate him and move on. But he loves him and hates him. His hands itch to hold him, but a second later, he wants to shove him away. He wants to go, but he can’t imagine leaving.

As much as it sucks, Kurt can’t imagine living without him.

He would prefer to go back to being shamelessly and hopelessly in love with him. Hating him has become a crutch. But it’s enough to get him through. Regardless of that fact, which should tie up the loose ends, mend the hurts and cool the hate, it doesn’t, because Kurt can’t find a way to forgive him.

A well-meaning Facebook friend had told Kurt over Messenger that the problem was Kurt’s pride had been hurt by Sebastian cheating. Push the pride aside and get over it. Ultimately, the marriage is more important. Then he said something about Kurt putting on his “big boy” pants, mentioned God, and quoted the Bible.

A minute later, Kurt blocked him.

That’s another blessing of moving - leaving behind the get over it already crowd. He hates them more than the forever sorry folks. The people who tell him to move on, to get over it, to put it behind him, don’t really care about him. They want him to stop complaining, as if they’re obligated to follow him on social media, and that puts the burden on him, in turn, to make them feel comfortable.

Maybe some of them do care, but not enough to put themselves in his shoes and understand that it’s just not that easy. Being on the outside of the swamp and looking in at a man who’s drowning, yelling at him to grab a branch and pull himself free, is different than being the man stuck hip-deep in mud that feels like cement and losing a fight that’s beyond his control.

Sometimes, as a matter of self-preservation, you simply give up.

Kurt doesn’t know who Sebastian slept with. He has his suspicions, but he doesn’t know for sure, and Sebastian won’t confirm. He says it’s because he wants to put it behind him, forget it ever happened, and that infuriates Kurt. If sleeping with another man was something Sebastian would need to put behind him, why even do it? Or (and Kurt hates himself for thinking like this), if Sebastian didn’t want Kurt to dwell on it, why not take steps to ensure that Kurt wouldn’t find out? Sebastian, of all people, should have known that this would eat Kurt up inside. It’s the kind of thing he’d never let go of. Yes, Kurt would be devastated if he discovered the cheating and the cover-up years after the fact, but he’d be in a better place to mourn his marriage apart from mourning his daughter.

What Sebastian did was selfish on so many levels.

Kurt knows that sex isn’t love, but he can't help wondering – was there a moment in the middle of all of it, caught up in the kissing and the fucking, where it felt like love?

Kurt met Sebastian in high school. Kurt wasn’t just a virgin back then. Oh, no. He had created his own category of virgin for which he could have had a cape and costume custom made – Captain Super Prude. Sex was a taboo topic for him, so much so that his high school’s chastity club hated him.

Apparently, he set the bar too high, made them look loose in comparison.

As much as he had fantasized about finding a special someone who would sweep him off his feet, gently usher him into manhood by making soulful but passionate love to him, he preferred not to think about it too often or too in-depth. The "talk” between him and his father was a mortifying experience.

There were pamphlets involved.

He still has some of them.

When it came to finding a boyfriend, Sebastian wasn’t what Kurt had planned on at all. Where Kurt was attracted to debonair, old-school, gentlemanly types a few years older than himself, Sebastian was crass, rude, explicit, and a year younger. On top of that, he was (to coin a phrase stolen from one of Kurt’s best friends, Quinn) the biggest French whore of them all. Sebastian didn’t care for romance and he didn’t attach emotions to sex, but he definitely had a way of making men fall in love with him. Kurt Hummel and Sebastian Smythe were the two people in the world least likely to fall in love with one another. But according to Sebastian, he fell in love with Kurt long before Kurt fell in love with him.

Sebastian claimed that Kurt was the first man he had ever fallen in love with, and at first sight, no less.

He whispered those words in Kurt’s ear the first time they made love.

He said those exact words during his toast at their wedding.

He wrote them in every birthday, Christmas, and anniversary card he ever gave to Kurt.

He said them over Grace’s crib the night they brought her home.

“Look at this little thing, Kurt,” Sebastian had sighed, reaching out to stroke Grace’s cheek. “Our daughter. Is it ridiculous that I’ve only known her for two days and I’m already in love with her?

“Technically, nine months and two days. But, no. It’s not ridiculous.”

“I never thought I could fall so fast in love with another human being before I met you.”

“Really?”

“A-ha.” Sebastian smiled when Grace yawned, her whole mouth moving in a complete circle before she settled down again. “I fell in love with you the second I laid eyes on you. And then, well, it was all over for me.”

Those words, the memory of that happiness, breaks Kurt’s heart. Could it be possible that, after close to twenty years of marriage, after reciting those words so many times, they didn’t mean anything anymore? Had Sebastian found someone else he could fall in love with?

Kurt has asked, but Sebastian won’t answer that question. He says it’s insulting.

Whatever the answer, he probably thinks he’s doing his husband a kindness. What he’s really doing is prolonging the torture, not giving Kurt the information he needs to make a decision that he can stand behind. Every time Kurt looks at his husband, he sees touches on his skin that don’t belong to him, kisses on his lips that he didn’t put there.

Kurt doesn’t know how to make himself see past them.

Instead, he looks away.

The second Kurt feels sunlight on his face, he’s out of bed. He grabs his messenger bag and pads down the hall to his studio before Sebastian can stir.

The room looks different with blurry morning sunlight bleeding through the windows. Kurt didn’t put black-out curtains up, and the sheer curtains that came with the house let fingers of light poke through, bouncing off the wallpaper and brightening the floor.

Yikes.

Kurt examines the floor now that he sees it clearly. It’s a mess - the wood warped as if someone had paced it incessantly. It had been varnished at one time. Spots of resin dot the boards like oily puddles. The wood itself (some variety of walnut, Kurt suspects) has blackened to a morbid pitch with age. It sucks up the light and gives little back.

“Oh, yeah,” Kurt murmurs, pressing around the brittle edge of one spot with his toe, watching it crackle into shards. “This has to be completely redone.”

He gets stuck on the idea that this room could have been his daughter’s if she were still alive. He and Sebastian had talked about raising Grace in a suburban environment, and as much as he regrets not giving her a house with a yard and room to grow, Kurt leaned heavily on the side of staying in the city. Some of his motives were selfish. He loved Manhattan. It had been his lifelong dream to end up there. He wanted his daughter to grow up with all of the things he didn’t – culture, diversity, theaters and libraries and museums a train ride away. He didn’t want her raised around the closed, narrow minds of small-town folk. He wanted her to be an independent thinker – liberated, rational, intelligent. But he also wanted her to be compassionate and kind. He wanted her to know the world, its wonders and its failings, the way it truly was, not the way it looked on a movie screen, and long to change it for the better. They participated in fundraisers, gathered donations for the homeless, and volunteered in soup kitchens.

Grace was a pure light, a driving force that, at her age, Kurt didn’t get the chance to be.

So in honor of her, he wants his workroom to be bright and colorful - a mixture of his vintage aesthetic and her fun-loving personality. He’ll paint the walls her favorite colors, put homages to her in the details, choose the furnishings she would have preferred.

Since this will be the room he spends most of his time in, he wants it to be everything about his daughter that he adored.

He opens his bag and pulls out his phone, checking the time. 6:08. The movers are supposed to arrive between eight a.m. and ten. But movers, electricians, plumbers, and cable guys never arrive on time. He fishes out his sketchbook, sits on the floor, and gets to work jotting down a layout. First things first, he decides where his drafting table will go, where he’ll store his bolts, where he’ll put his sewing machine, a spot for a work chair, marking places here and there for personal touches like his mother’s vanity, his first-ever dress form, a few of his awards...

And photographs. Lots and lots of photographs.

He didn’t keep photographs in his studio at Vogue. He had an obsession with keeping his private life private, which he doesn’t apologize for. Since he met clients there, he liked to keep that space impersonal. Nothing to get in the way, spark a conversation that might derail the job at hand.

Unlike Sebastian, who hung candids galore. He stuffed the most Godawful photographs from their high school and college years into collage frames and nailed them to every wall of his office, squeezing things like his degrees and diplomas into far corners so that those pictures could be prominently displayed. He said that people knew the Smythes by name and reputation. If anyone wanted to see his credentials, they could Google them. But when people walked into his office, he wanted them to know that first and foremost, he was a family man.

Sebastian knew from childhood that he would become a lawyer. He never dreamed he would be a father.

Or a husband.

Those were the two accomplishments he seemed the proudest of.

Kurt regrets not having more pictures of Grace hanging on his studio walls, her smiling face to look at every hour of every day, watching his meetings, overseeing his layouts. She was his good-luck charm, his missing puzzle piece. She deserved a place of honor.

Now, he’ll give her one.

His stomach growls as he works. A smell from somewhere tickles his nose, and he groans. Just a few more seconds of sketching on the hard ground, and he’ll grab a bite to eat… maybe. With his ass numb, he doesn’t see a reason to get up, and bedsides, he’s on a roll. Car doors closing and constant banging echo in, and he winces, his head throbbing from lack of sleep. Dammit! If it would just stop till he finishes! It’s hard enough to concentrate as is! He hopes this is a one-time-only thing. He’d hate to wake up to that cacophony every morning. If he ever decides to go outside and meet the neighbors, he’ll have to find a polite way of asking them not to do whatever that is before he has his morning coffee.

Of course, soundproofing is also an option.

“Kurt? Kurt, are you… ?”

Kurt shifts his legs underneath him. He lifts a hand to massage his shoulders. That mattress must have killed his back. His arms ache something fierce. Sitting on this floor doesn’t help, the uneven boards digging into his legs, but it’s not an impetus for him to stop.

Just one more minute.

One more minute of sketching out this room, and he’ll join the world. One more minute to get his thoughts straight. One more minute to brush aside the things that like to torture him. Forget that his mother died when he was eight, his stepbrother when he was eighteen. Forget that his father passed away three years ago and his daughter six months ago.

Not too long after, his husband cheated.

Five.

That’s how many things he had loved in this world more than himself.

Those are the things that he’d lost.

They were the things he needed to forget in order to make it through till the evening.

He’ll replace the insulation and the drywall, smother everything in a noise-proofing compound, then paint the walls in swirls of pink and gold. He’ll do the ceiling in shades of blue, indigo, and violet, like the sky at night, and cover it in crystals to represent stars the way Grace had wanted to do with her bedroom. Kurt had promised her he would the second everything was over, when they could risk her being around the debris and the fumes.

He has never broken a promise to Grace. He isn’t about to start.

He scribbles those notes in sloppy script in the margin of his paper, wipes tears with the back of his shaking hand. He tries to focus on specifics to bring himself back from the brink of a breakdown. He needs a good cry, but he doesn’t want the comforting that will go with it if Sebastian hears him. He can’t right now. Sebastian comforting Kurt turns into Kurt comforting him back, and Kurt only has the strength to handle one outburst.

“Kurt? Did you want to… ?”

Kurt waves a hand to shoo away the buzzing beside his ear, relieved when it doesn’t take much more than that.

In order to paint the walls, he’ll have to take the wallpaper down.

That brings to mind the corner of torn paper over by the window and the word written underneath.

Darling.

That corner offends him. Kurt keeps entertaining the thought that that word has nothing to do with Sebastian, that there is another layer of wallpaper underneath festooned with line art of flowers, along with quotes from various love poems sprinkled throughout, circa 1800s. But then that would make that one tear and that one word an incredible coincidence since darling is the pet name Sebastian has called Kurt since day one. When he started doing it, every time he said it, Kurt had an urge to sock him on the jaw.

He was a pain in the ass, even back then.

Did Sebastian actually think Kurt would fall for writing darling on the wall? After the things he said? After what he did?

Kurt’s hand trembles so badly, he smudges the ink on his page. He stops writing, takes a deep breath, and counts to ten. He closes his eyes and concentrates on the sun warming his face. It’s gone now when it was there a second ago, which is disconcerting, but he has to ignore that and calm down.

He has to relax.

He promised he’d give this marriage a chance, that he’d try to make this work. Sebastian, so far, has held up his part of the bargain. He’s given Kurt space. He’s listened to him vent uncontested. He’s let Kurt keep tabs on him – where he goes, when he’ll be back, with photo texts in between to prove that he is where he said he would be. Kurt has to give him the benefit of the doubt. If Sebastian extends an olive branch, Kurt should take it.

But did he want to?

“I didn’t hear you when you got up this morning.” Sebastian’s voice starts Kurt’s hand up again. He wants to look busy. He doesn’t want to be caught in a position where he has to give his husband his full attention.

He hasn’t forgotten everything yet.

“Well, you were dead to the world,” Kurt replies, distracted.

“I’m just saying, see? You won’t disturb me. You don’t need to put a bed in here.”

Kurt bobs his head back and forth, adding a place in his layout for a foldout out of spite. “We’ll see. It’s only been the one day.”

“That’s true.” The way Sebastian says it, it sounds like a challenge. A tired challenge. Like Sebastian knows he’s already lost. “So, you like the room?”

“Yeah. I think I do.”

“And what about the rest of the house?”

He doesn’t know why Sebastian sounds like he’s asking. It’s a done deal. They both agreed on a new house. Sebastian found one he thought Kurt would like and bought it. What? Are they going to back out now and magically move somewhere else?

Will moving around from house to house solve what’s wrong between them?

“It’s fine, I guess. I don’t know. I think it’s hard for me to visualize without taking the grand tour. I’ll be able to tell better when I get started decorating.”

“Are you gonna hire that guru guy to help you with the yin and yang stuff?” Sebastian jokes cautiously. “That Kung Fu guy… what’s his name… ?” Sebastian snaps his fingers as if he’s seriously trying to remember.

“He’s a Feng shui practitioner, and his name is Carl.”

“His name's Carl?” Sebastian laughs. “No no no, his name is not Carl. Carl is the name of a dentist. He’s not a guy you call to Wang Chung your house.”

“Feng shui,” Kurt corrects again. “I hired him to help me create balance in our home.” He chuckles despite the fact he doesn’t want to find Sebastian funny. He doesn’t want Sebastian to affect him. But he’s right. The man’s name irked Kurt, too, when Isabelle referred him. “Ridiculous name or not, he seemed like a knowledgeable guy.”

“Do you think that Shaolin stuff could work here?”

Kurt pauses to give the matter some thought, and that kills the moment. The levity becomes saturated by the pain hanging in the room, and Kurt coils further into his sketch.

“That remains to be seen. But I think I’m going to try doing it for myself this time. Of course, the overall effect is going to be completely thrown to heck when you hire whoever never to decorate your office.” Kurt throws a derisive scowl over his shoulder. It misses its mark when Kurt won’t look Sebastian in the eyes.

Sebastian swallows Kurt’s scowl without thinking of a comeback. They’ve had that argument before when Kurt redecorated their penthouse. Kurt felt the need to redecorate whenever something big happened in their lives, but Sebastian’s office was off-limits, so it stayed the same. Kurt tried to find one or two things to put into his design scheme that would bring a theme from Sebastian’s office out so that the penthouse would blend, but whatever the thing he chose was – a print, a vase, an ottoman, or a coffee table – it stuck out like a sore thumb, until Kurt tried less and less.

“Can’t fight City Hall,” he’d say, returning to the business of finishing the rest of the space. Things changed around them, and yet, in Sebastian’s carefully curated world, life stood still. The last time Kurt redecorated was before Grace was born. Nothing in the penthouse matched Sebastian’s office after that.

“I want you to do it.”

Kurt stops scribbling. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

Kurt almost looks back to see if Sebastian is serious. He stares at the paper in front of him, the surface more ink than white. “Are you… are you sure? You always said that we need our separate spaces.”

“That’s only because you’re a little heavy-handed with the pastels. I trust you. Just don’t go making it all shabby chic.”

Kurt is speechless. This is the opportunity he has been waiting for their entire marriage – to decorate Sebastian’s office. Once upon a time, he saw it as the ultimate gesture of trust.

Back when he was naïve and fairly stupid.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Kurt debates standing up and giving Sebastian a hug or a handshake. This seems like a time that would warrant it. But when he rolls an inch to his knees, his entire body screams with pain. God, he feels old. How can he be this stiff after just half an hour?

Kurt returns to his planning. Even though he doesn’t feel prepared to leave his sanctuary, he fixes on that solid mask he’s been wearing for weeks around Sebastian. Just one more minute. One more minute, and he’ll go downstairs. He thinks he says it out loud. He expects Sebastian to go back to their room and get ready for the day, but he stays in place like a statue, watching Kurt draw, huddled over his sketchbook with his back turned to him and the door.

Kurt waits to hear the sound of footsteps retreat the way they came, but they don’t. His pencil stops above a square drawn in the corner meant to represent his stereo. He can’t continue his drawing with his husband watching, so he bites the bullet.

“Was there something else you needed?” he asks.

“They’ve… uh… got the bed in,” Sebastian says. “And the TV.”

Kurt scrunches his nose and lifts his head. What does he mean? The bed and the TV are on the moving truck. Kurt looks at his phone, resting on the floor by his knee.

“What are you talking about?” Kurt scoffs. “The movers haven’t even arrived yet. It’s only 7:15.”

“That’s right.” Sebastian speaks slowly, the way he does when he’s explaining something to Kurt that he thinks Kurt might explode over. He leans forward like he wants to come in but doesn’t without an invitation. “It is 7:15. In the evening.”

Kurt's head snaps up, eyes rolling because Sebastian is crazy.

There’s no way.

He's ready to object, but with his gaze away from his page, he notices something different about the light in the room. Instead of a soft, diffused blue, it has become a thicker yellow. Shadows stretch across the floor that weren’t there before. The room is warmer than he remembers, and the skin of his left shin, folded over his right, feels hot and irritated, like he might have gotten a sunburn.

“Evening?” Kurt shakes his head. “How can it… ? But… why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come get me?”

“I tried. I told you when the movers arrived. I asked you what you wanted for lunch. I brought you the portable heater and put a lamp in here when it started to get dark.”

Kurt looks around. In the emptiness of the room, they’re easy to see - a plug-in heater behind him, and, in the corner of the room to the left of the door, standing straight and tall like a structural support beam, a brass lamp without a shade, filling the room with artificial light.

The first two pieces of furniture in his new studio, and Sebastian put them there.

Kurt doesn’t want them. He’d rather be cold and alone in the dark.

“We don’t have WiFi or cable yet, but I set up the Blu-ray player,” Sebastian continues. “I thought I could go get some take-out, and we could have a picnic dinner on the bed. Maybe watch a movie?”

Kurt does a 180 on his sore ass and looks at his husband (which is to say he looks at a spot over Sebastian’s head) with a mildly confused expression. He’s not really thinking about the bed or the movie or dinner at all. Even though he was hungry earlier, apparently hours earlier, he’s not hungry now. He couldn’t be less hungry. His desire to eat simply evaporated. It's been waning for weeks. Sometimes he forgets to eat until Sebastian sticks a sandwich in his face. Sebastian has become devoted to keeping Kurt's stomach full. He knows better than to comment on his weight loss, but he keeps a stock of temptable foods on hand.

He’s keeping Kurt on life support.

Sebastian stuck a spear into the heart of what they had together. Now he’s keeping Kurt alive to help him fix it.

Kurt hates that he didn’t see it that way until just now.

“Kurt? Please?”

Here’s the olive branch, Kurt thinks. He has to decide whether he’s going to take it or toss it aside.

He had promised Sebastian he’d try, and Kurt has never broken a promise to Sebastian.

No matter how much he hurts, he’s not going to start tonight.

His father always said that a man is only as good as his word.

Kurt closes his sketchbook. “Alright. I’m coming.” He tries to unfold his legs, but his knees lock up on him, and he rushes to massage the beginnings of a cramp. Sebastian looks like he’s about to spring in and help, but Kurt puts up a hand. “I’ll be a minute.”

Nodding, Sebastian takes a step back. Even with that rejection, he looks happier, more hopeful. He takes his phone out of his pocket and leaves the room. The grateful smile on his lips should fill Kurt with warmth. It used to.

But it doesn’t.

After a meal of Szechuan from a questionable establishment (not questionably clean, just questionably Chinese) and The Devil Wears Prada (a movie Sebastian swore up and down he’d never watch again), Sebastian falls asleep with his head on Kurt’s chest. And Kurt lets him, even if he himself barely gets a minute of peace.

#kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #sebastian smythe #Kurt Hummel

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keanureevesisbae · 5 years ago

Text

“Henry Cavill is a dad”

A one shot in the universe of ‘Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat’

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran

Summary: After his hiatus, Henry is about to do his first interview in years at the James Corden show.

Wordcount: 1.5k

A/N: This family owns my heart, so I have some one shots prepared, so you are warned haha. If you haven’t yet send in a question for the Q&A session I have on Thursday (more information right here) and you still want to know something about the main and side characters of my fics, send in your questions (if you want to of course!)

Masterlist // Next one shot //

This was Henry’s first filming experience after adopting Vanessa and having Elodie. Elodie is now a a little over a year old now. Thankfully the movie was filmed in the UK, which caused him to stay with his beautiful family and it was worth it waking up extra early each morning, to go to set.

But now he is in the States and he is about to be on the James Corden Show. Before he gets on, he sees he has a few minutes to spare and decides that he should FaceTime Olivia, hoping she answers. When she picks up, he is mesmerized by her smile, though she is on ocean away.

‘Hi, my love. How are you?’

She smiles brightly. ‘I’m good, just enjoying my hot chocolate before I go to bed. How are you? Nervous?’

‘A bit,’ he admits. ‘But that’s just because it’s my first big interview since my tiny hiatus.’

‘Tiny?’ She cocks an eyebrow, before she bursts out in laughter. ‘A tiny hiatus that lasted almost two years, Henry Cavill,’ she chuckles.

Leave it to his lovely girlfriend to remind him of that fact. ‘How have the girls been today?’ he asks.

‘They have been really good today,’ Olivia says, before taking a sip of her hot chocolate. ‘Vanessa is sleeping in one of your shirts, because she misses you and it smells like you. Elodie keeps on looking at pictures of you whenever I walk around with her, points at it and mumbles: ‘Him’. It’s adorable.’

Don’t cry, Henry, he tells himself. You have to go up for an interview with an audience here in the studio and back home. You can’t have red eyes of crying. ‘Just two more weeks,’ he says, more to comfort himself than Olivia. ‘I really miss you girls.’

She smiles. ‘We miss you too, sweetheart, but you are doing something you love. Please, don’t feel bad and enjoy every minute of this.’

‘Yeah, I’m trying,’ he says. ‘How are you holding up?’

‘Just fine,’ she says with a smile. ‘However, I do think that I earned myself a nice weekend away with your mom and Belle when you are back.’

‘I do think that you’ve earned that,’ he smiles. God, Olivia is so breathtakingly beautiful. It’s still beyond him that this woman fell for him, allowed him to adopt Vanessa and that they had a baby together. It was hard on them, when Elodie was born. Because of the rough birth and the intense aftermath, Olivia had a hard time sleeping, constantly waking up with nightmares and flashbacks of the birth and leaving Elodie alone was a definite no no. Though she was getting help thanks to his mom, it still ate her alive and that killed Henry. He felt he wasn’t a good enough dad to Vanessa and Elodie, because he constantly had to call his mom. He felt like he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend to Olivia, because he didn’t know what he could do to help her out.

But thankfully, after six months, it all went uphill again. Olivia had processed the trauma of Elodie’s birth and finally gained back her sleeping pattern, causing her to get back her energy. She went back to work, but because she was breastfeeding Elodie, he came to her work at twelve, to pick up the flasks with milk and for Elodie to be peppered with tons of kisses.

Though they are apart now, from the looks of it, they are managing just fine back in London.

‘I miss you,’ he confesses.

‘Oh Henry honey,’ she says with a smile, ‘I miss you too. I can’t wait for these two weeks to be over. I don’t know how the time difference will be able to allow it, but Vanessa would love it if you FaceTimed her before she goes to school.’

‘I think it’s around one in the morning, but I’ll make sure we can FaceTime, love.’ He sees his manager walking in, saying that he is up in a few. ‘I have to go,’ he says, though he’d much rather talk to her for an eternity.

‘Okay sweetheart, good luck with your interview. I love you.’

He’ll never get tired of hearing those words. ‘I love you too, beautiful.’

After a few minutes, he enters the stage, hearing the loud screams of fans in the audience. Though he loved being a family man (and still loves that more than anything in the world), this is something he definitely missed. He shakes James Corden’s hand, sits next to Reese Witherspoon, his co-star for their newest movie.

‘Thank you two so much for being here,’ James says. ‘But before we are going to talk about your movie, that from what I’ve heard will be an absolute hit, we need to talk about the elephant in the room.’

Henry already knows what this is about and he can’t help but smile. Did he turn into a mushy man when it comes to his family? Yes, he totally did and he isn’t regretting that for a single moment.

‘In case you missed it, which I cannot understand, because it went viral: Henry Cavill, out of nowhere, posts a picture, announcing that not only he has adopted his girlfriend’s daughter, but they were also expecting a baby together, little miss Elodie.’ The picture he posted a few days after she was born, appears on the screen, causing people to awe. ‘Tell us,’ James says, ‘how did this all happen?’

Henry chuckles. ‘Well, I met Olivia, my girlfriend, when I accidentally fed Kal some kibble that made him throw up blood. I called a few animal clinics, but hers was the first to pick up.’ He knows that he has a disgustingly soft smile on his face, but he can’t help it. ‘But she brought her six year old daughter with her, because she couldn’t find a sitter. And well… One thing let to another. I fell head over heels with her and Vanessa was and still is the most adorable girl.’

‘Didn’t it scare you that Olivia already had a daughter?’

‘Not one single moment,’ Henry confesses.

The crowd goes ‘aw’, something that he wasn’t actually expecting.

‘Look at your smile: you are totally living your life with your cute little family.’

‘Oh James,’ Reese says, ‘you have absolutely no idea. I met them and oh my, they are the cutest. Olivia is such a wonderful and powerful woman and their daughters… Vanessa is so well behaved and smart, like I felt dumb after meeting her and Elodie is so precious, constantly hiding her face in Henry’s neck, before glancing at you with a smile, before hiding again.’

Henry can’t help but beam with pride. ‘I’m so lucky,’ he chuckles.

‘Is it hard for you being away from them now?’

He nods. ‘It is. I have been there for them for so long now, but I know that my parents are there for them if they need anything, so that helps me ease my mind.’

James nods. ‘Will you ever take them on a red carpet event?’

Henry shakes his head. ‘Olivia hates those types of events and I don’t want to expose my daughters to any of this. They haven’t chosen for this life, so I want to keep them out of the spotlight for as long as possible.’

James cocks an eyebrow. ‘However you share a few pictures of them every once in a while.’

He can’t help but smile. ‘Well, I just really want to show them off.’

‘That’s a real dad,’ James chuckles. ‘How old are they now?’

‘Vanessa is nine and Elodie is one,’ he says. He should stop smiling, but he can’t help himself.

‘My oh my,’ James says, ‘this is so adorable. Henry Cavill is a dad.’

He knows that he is a dad, but to hear someone else say it, is still a bit unbelievable. As a joke Belle calls him ‘Olivia’s baby daddy’ and while his brothers are embarrassed for him, he actually doesn’t mind. ‘Yeah, I’m a dad indeed. It’s crazy.’

‘You have three lovely ladies around you now, how do you manage?’

He shrugs. ‘Just fine. I love being around them. Vanessa is such a funny, lovely and smart young girl and she continues to surprise us with everything. Elodie just turned one, but it’s amazing to see how she is developing. I obviously missed that with Vanessa and it’s so fascinating to see how Elodie is learning new things about the world and all.’

‘Are you a nervous parent?’

‘He is,’ Reese answers before he gets the chance. ‘It’s really endearing though, but he is constantly on the look out, to a point where Olivia has to snap him out of it.’

‘Yeah, it’s true,’ Henry admits. ‘It’s just that they are all my girls and I want to take good care of them.’

The audience goes ‘aww’ at the exact same time in the exact same key and he can’t help but blush like crazy.

James nods. ‘Man, you really are happy. They are so lucky to have you as a dad.’

‘Well,’ Henry says, ‘I’m really lucky to be their dad.’

Taglist: @thelastsock // @flhorah // @sausagefest1996 // @laufeysodinson // @xxxkatxo // @memoriesat30 // @henrythickcavill // @crimsonrae // @henryobsessed // @madbaddic7ed // @summersong69 // @lyrafraiser // @peakygroupie // @coldmuffinbanditshoe // @mary-ann84 // @thereisa8ella //@crazyandanonymous4u // @xuxszx // @emmaofgreengabbles // @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair // @onlyhenrys // @omgkatinka // @oddsnendsfanfics // @speakerforthedead0 // @agniavateira // @gearhead66 // @chamomilebottom // @diegos-butt // @yoyoanaria //

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x Olivia Tran #Tran-Cavill clan #mister cavill your dog is kinda fat

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bbq-hawks-wings · 4 years ago

Note

Enji doesn't realize he's adopted Hawks until he has a nightmare about protecting his (5) kids & Hawks is one of them. He tries to tell himself that dreams aren't meant to be taken seriously but he can't deny it after a week of worrying & feeling oddly affectionate towards the kid. He doesn't know how to handle it especially on top of his family issues. But it slips in when he starts to get overprotective in the field. Hawks is taken aback by the changes. In the midst of Hawks dealing w/his own

issues w/his parents Enji acts w/out thinking & puts a comforting hand against his head. It's the same gesture Hawks has seen Enji give (or attempt to give) his kids. Both realize the parental gesture at the same time. Hawks has no idea how to deal w/the sudden change in their dynamic. Everyone thinks Enji did something bad because neither knows how to approach it. Hawks tries to switch to his happy facade out of habit but Enji calls him out on it because he knows it's fake. Rei & the others think its time to finally talk about their unspoken adoption. Hawks is just so uncomfortable the whole time because he's not used to people wanting him & he's not sure what he should do. Rei tells him to take time to think about it but not to push them away. No one bothers him at dinner but he's still trying hard to comprehend being accepted into a family.

~~~

He lies awake that night in his own bed, at his own apartment, wondering what to do with these feelings. They’re not bad feelings, per se - just uncomfortable. He doesn’t hate them or not appreciate them, but he just doesn’t know what to do when he feels them. He doesn't know what to do with a father figure raising a hand to him in a sign of affection and comfort for his emotional struggles. He's doesn't have a memory of a mother who lovingly smiled at him, held his hand, and excitedly told him she packed his favorite things in his lunch because she knows he has a lot to do that day. He's always dreamed about it, but now that he has it-?

His breath hitches. He has it now? If he does, why does it not feel as good and magical as it's supposed to? Why isn't his heart full of sunshine and butterflies like it should be, and why does thinking about it leave him nauseated and dizzy? He remembers those rare, lonely nights in a room as a tiny boy just wishing someone would hear him crying after a nightmare, come through the door and hold him until he felt safe enough to fall back asleep. Now he has people willing to offer as much at the slightest hint he might want it, and all he wants to do in response is shrink away.

He feels like he's done something wrong - he doesn't belong here! This isn't his family. They left him behind a long time ago. He isn't their son or their brother. He can't replace Touya.

He frowns at the memory of Touya's picture in the family butsudan. It was surreal at how different the feelings and memories of the boy was among members of the family, and he felt so out of place that despite technically having met that person the boy in the photo was a complete stranger. He never told the family he overheard their conversations about not knowing whether or not to take it down the photo or to keep performing the daily rituals after truth about Dabi came to light.

God help him, he really doesn't belong here.

But they want him there, don't they? He's not quite sure why - he just started showing up because of business; but eventually that became pleasure instead. Now they don't want him to leave. He also doesn't want to leave. What a mess.

"Just stay." The little voice in his head gently prods him. "This is ok. It's not bad."

He has a quick flashback to being little again and testing out his writing lessons by spelling out "Todoroki Keigo" in secret on a piece of scrap paper. Ugh, he wishes he could fold himself into a tiny piece of paper and float away on the breeze - how embarrassing. He also can't help but wonder what that same little boy would think if he knew what he knows now about the Todoroki household.

"But it's not like that anymore. They're happy. You're happy."

"Not completely." He allows himself to answer out loud, to dispell the lie. He thinks about the grimace on Natsuo's face whenever his father came up in conversation. He thinks of the tiny ticks of each family member used to things being a different way - a bad way - as they try to adjust to a new reality. Flinches, held breathes, increased heart rates - even those with the best poker faces can't hide that from him.

"That family won't ever be able to go back to the way it was."

It was quiet for a while, with just the ambient hum of the city outside his window for a backdrop when the voice spoke up again.

"...Maybe that's why they want you to stay."

He blinks. They're not the same. He's different from them, and maybe it is easier for them to be ok with that because... they're also trying to be different?

He's not sure what he's trying to tell himself, but something kind of makes sense in it. Maybe it's not a matter of him fitting into something old the way it used to be because what they're attempting to change into isn't the old thing anymore. Maybe they're not trying to fit him into an old spot to fill something that's now empty. Maybe they're making a new one for him so there's room for him to be there.

It still doesn't do anything to answer the question he's afraid to ask: why him?

He hates that question. He hates every time he has to ask it. It's never a good reason. He's either the default or the last resort. It's never been a good thing.

It's quiet again. He closes his eyes and lets the answer fly away unanswered.

"... Because they like you."

His eyes suddenly open. They like him? Well, sure, everyone likes him - even grudgingly. He makes it a point to be liked or to be enjoyable to hate. But... They do like him, don't they?

Recent memories fly into his head. Shared jokes and heckles. Smiles. Concerned gazes. Rosy cheeks and empty sake bottles around the kotatsu. Words of encouragement, admiration, and appreciation. Not remembering falling asleep after dinner but waking up to a blanket draped around his shoulders.

Maybe... Maybe they do like him.

"I don't want to go away."

God, not the water works. He screws his eyes shut at the prick in the corners of his eyes.

"I want to stay."

He can't stop the images of each Todoroki and their preferred ways to address him. Whenever Endeavor used to address him before it was short and terse; but, "Hawks" always had a note of warmth in it these days. His relationship with Rei was cold and professional at first, but now when she called to him, it was so soothing to hear knowing it came accompanied with a welcome into her home. The way Fuyumi used his name to scold him at his antics was the exact same she used for her brothers. It may have started ironically, but Natsuo refers to him almost exclusively as "Aniki" at this point, and now even Shouto occasionally says it long after the joke is over.

He takes slow, steady breathes to even himself out again and keep the tears from falling. He isn't about to call all of them liars. They don't have a reason to lie to him. They mean it when they tell him that they consider him family.

"I'm so sorry if we ever made you uncomfortable," Cool hands cup his as he recollects earlier that night, "...and it would be understandable given what you've been through. I can only hope you believe me when I say that our home is your home, and you will always be welcomed like family here because..."

"Please, I want to see them again."

Ok.

Maybe he's not ready to completely jump into this. It still feels too much like a fantasy to be real yet. He doesn't want to run away, either, though. This is something he's only dreamed of having his whole life, even if it feels overwhelming in the moment. For now, he'll just go back and take it slow. He can't necessarily pretend nothing happened, but he does want to embrace that it has even it he just has to take it one day at a time.

He can't help but give a chuckle.

Todoroki Keigo, huh?

#she speaks #let's talk hawks #she writes #i don't know what the addition is but I wanted to tack it on #thanks for sending me your writing anon!#i always try to get back to these longer asks and share them with everyone #even if it takes me a minute

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thebeebi · 4 years ago

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The promise pt. 4

pairing: Namjoon x reader, ft. Yoongi

warning: disturbing, violence, yandere themes, a bit of fluff, possessiveness, smut (in the future) and swearing, more will be added in the future

genre: fantasy, modern

word count: 1.9k+ [part 4]

a/n: Hello, hello! I posting this a bit later because I almost choked on McD. Well there goes 4 months of dieting and eating healthy. Well enough about me. I just gotta say this part will end with something cool. And by something, I mean Min Yoongi, because he is cool. Anyways, enjooooy ♥

taglist: @thisisval

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

He wanted to keep his promise even if it meant to get blood on his hands. He would do anything for her. But was that really what she wanted?

Namjoon was angry. How dare she?! The visions of Y/N and Yoongi being intimate kept on flooding his mind even after he left her alone. He knew he hurt her. He knew he broke her heart but the idea of Y/N possibly loving anyone else than him was too scary. Made him furious. After all he did for her. He killed his own parents just so she could be happy. He did everything the book told him to do, to make her eternally happy. He slit the throat of his own father for her. He stabbed the silver dagger into his mother’s heart just so he could make Y/N happy. How dare she?! He killed his own best friend just because he started hanging out with Y/N. He killed Hoseok just because he smiled at Y/N. Namjoon killed everyone who showed a bit of emotion for Y/N and he was willing to kill anyone else, as long it would make Y/N happier. He kicked the door to his room and headed towards the nightstand to throw around all the decorations Y/N put there. He went around his room to find all the things she gave him just to throw them on the floor and step on them. He was panting, but still ready to find more things. He looked at the pocket watch Y/N gave him for his birthday which was calmly laying on the shelf above the fireplace. When he wanted to walk to grab it, he was interrupted by the cracking sound of glass. He looked below his feet just to see himself standing on the photo of him and Y/N. Namjoon moved his feet from the photo frame and reached down to pick up the photo which was poking out of the broken frame. He stared at the photo which was the cause for everything.

Flashback…

A loud rumble of thunder woke Namjoon up from his sleep. He looked out of the window to see the night sky being lit up from time to time. The sound of strong rain filled his mind as he rubbed his eyes until suddenly they opened wide and his head snapped towards the door. Namjoon was thinking about the person who slept in the bed right across the hall. He slid down the mattress, making his way out of the door. His steps were quiet, trying to not wake up the entire household. He tip-toed towards Y/N’s room, wanting to check up on her. When Namjoon opened the heavy door, he could hear Y/N whimpered in her sleep. Once again, she was dreaming about the same thing. That nightmare had been slipping into her calm nights whenever the storm started. He sat close to her on the bed gently moving hair that had been sticking to her sweaty forehead. “Everything is alright, Y/N.“ He whispered and took the sleeping girl into his embrace. “It’s alright, I am here.“ He kept on repeating trying to calm her down. Namjoon could feel the tense from her body slowly vanishing. He kissed the top of her head as he exhaled harshly. Once he was sure Y/N was alright, he started drifting off but a familiar voice woke him up. “Please... don’t do that!“ He heard her many times begging someone in her dream to not do that. At first, he thought it was just an ordinary nightmare, but after so many sleepless nights during the stormy season, he knows it was no ordinary dream. He asked Y/N many times what was the nightmare about but she never remembered it. Namjoon knew her since childhood but never knew there would be any problem in her family other than her alcoholic father. He closed his eyes trying to listen to the raindrops but opened them immediately feeling Y/N shift in her sleep. “Joonie?“ She asked innocently hugging the older male around the waist burying her face closer. “What are you doing he-?” Before she could ask the question, she saw the room being lit up by the lightning. Y/N sighed and knew right away what was going on. “…again” She whispered. “Maybe I should see someone.”

End of flashback…

Namjoon’s thoughts were interrupted by the loud thunder. The memories of the night when Y/N got another of her nightmares were slowly fading away as he looked at the door. He was worried but at the same time relieved that she no longer had them. They fixed it. Well, Namjoon did. He told to the hypnotist to get rid of Y/N’s nightmares. Now he knew what haunted her and he did not want Y/N to remember it nor find it out. Namjoon hid his face into the palms and swiftly rubbed it in frustration. He regretted telling Y/N to stop whoring around the moment it escaped his lips but back then he reasoned with himself, that for sure she let Yoongi touch her. Let Yoongi touch something that belonged to him. No, she would not do it. You just overreacted. You know she loves you. Namjoon reasoned with himself and sighed. He knew Y/N loved him yet he lost control. He wanted to resist her. For the past few years, Namjoon wanted to kiss Y/N but he always resisted. He knew later it would feel so much better. Later when he would finally fulfil his promise. But tonight he lost control. Not that he regretted kissing her lips. Hell no, but Namjoon wanted Y/N to feel special. She might have if he only did not ruin it by his stupid act. He stood up ready to go to Y/N’s room to apologize.

Y/N was slowly walking towards her room wondering what happened. All they did was a simple kiss. A simple heated kiss that has gone a bit further than friendship allows. She was confused. Whoring around? Y/N scoffed at Namjoon’s remark as she closed the door behind herself. She walked toward the cabinet and took out the key that she had never used before. She walked again to the door to lock it. She was confused, mad and determined to not let Namjoon enter her room. Not after what he did. She saved her first kiss for her first love wanting for it to be special. And special it was until he opened his mouth and his harsh words shattered her soft heart. Not that she hated him for that but Y/N was definitely not ready to hear that from the man she loved all her life. A loud thunder made her look out of the window. All she saw was the sky being lit up. She wanted to walk towards the source of the daylight to pull a curtain, but a soft knock halted her steps. She knew it was Namjoon. Y/N backed into the door to lean on it, ready to listen to everything he had to say. Even if she was mad, Y/N knew one word from him would make her legs weak. When she heard the sound of Namjoon holding the handle, she put her hand on the key, making sure she locked it right. Y/N could hear Namjoon sigh but was not entirely sure if she wanted to forgive him that easily. “What do you want?“ she tried asking calmly making sure that Namjoon would hear her question. “I want to apologize, princess. Let me in,“ she knew why he came, Y/N knew Namjoon would not be mad for long. Even if he told her such things, Y/N was sure there was a proper reason for his reaction. Her Joonie would not do that to her. He still loves me. She smiled as she turned the key to unlock the door, opened them a little as she stepped back. It was a cue for Namjoon to walk inside of her room.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “I am so sorry, princess,” he whispered in Y/N’s ear and hugged her tighter. Y/N grabbed the side of his shirt and pulled herself closer, even though it was not really possible anymore. “Joon,“ she spoke softly. “you shouldn’t have said that. Did you know that you stole my first kiss?“ Y/N hit his hip. Namjoon stunned by the sudden announcement but glad that he was her first. Just as she was his. He let go of the short girl and messed up her hair laughing. “I didn’t steal it. I simply gave you something your eyes” he held Y/N by the cheek as he ran his thumb softly over Y/N’s eyelid “...and your lips“ he continued as the thumb slid down to Y/N’s lips “wanted.“ He pulled his hand away once Y/N parted her lips while looking at him. When his arm swung back, Y/N took his hand and pulled him towards the sofa. “We need to talk, Joon.“ She said as she pushed a bigger man to sit down while she found her place next to him. Namjoon sighed and was about to reply when Y/N looked down. “Joon, is that blood?” he followed the direction of her eyes and looked at his shirt which he did not change after wiping the blood from his palm into it. Fuck.

Yoongi stood still seeing Namjoon pulling Y/N’s hand. As always.Yoongi closed the front door and walked inside his house. He pulled the diary which he hid before he opened the door for Y/N and opened it on the last page. He read it once again and then pulled out a pencil to mark important information.Plague. Disappearance. Y/N. Namjoon. Forest.“ Hmm,” Yoongi hummed as he made more circles around Namjoon’s name, the word forest and stared intensively on the part where it is written that back then people kept on disappearing. What if…Yoongi started internally talking to himself trying to put pieces by pieces. “What if Ms Y/L/N did not get sick because of the plague but it was something else? What if she just wanted to protect Y/N and left.” He reasoned nodding at first but then shook his head. “After Ms Y/L/N disappeared only my dad died and no one else disappeared. But after so many years, the disappearances started happening again.” He squeezed part of his nose between his eyes and exhaled frustrated. “What about the forest, though? There is for sure a reason why my father wrote it down.” He closed the diary and pushed it further from him and scratched the back of his neck. “I guess I need to go to the library to look into history books of our village and see if there are any mentions of disappearance and the forest.” He stood up from his chair wanting to walk out of the house, only to hear the loud rumble of the thunder. He sighed and opened the door. He walked out, trying to cover himself so the heavy raindrops will not soak him soon. He walked towards the centre of the village, passing by the bakery and a little tavern, that was busy as always. After all people in it did not care whether there was rain or sun outside, as long as they had drinks. Yoongi crossed the street to walk on the stairs of the library just to find out it was already closed.Looks like my research has to wait till tomorrow.He thought as he turned around to walk back but stopped in the middle of the street just to look at the tavern again.Would they talk if they were drunk enough?Yoongi remembered all the times when people started avoiding him just because he asked about the dark forest. After all, a drunk mind speaks a sober heart. And with that Yoongi opened the door to the place he thought he would never visit.

a/n I think I will have to put this story on hold. I AM SO SORRY. There are 2 reasons for that. I have to figure out this whole circle I created. (Because I know what I want there, I just do not know how to put it into words and I kinda want it to be mindblowing, which so far does not look like that.) Second and most important reason is that youtube removed my 45 minutes piano music thanks to which this story even started. I listen to that while writing this fic. I gotta find another one - preferably even darker. ♥ I will come back soon! Hopefully you will stay tuned for that. Thank you for all the love!

#bts smut #namjoon #bts fics #namjoon x reader #bts namjoon #bts yandere #kim namjoon #bts rm #bangtan #bts #bts fanfics #bts au #rm x reader #yandere #namjoon yandere

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katehuntington · 4 years ago

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Title: Black Dog - part three Word count: ±2700 words Episode summary: When Sam gets an anonymous phone call with information about his father, Dean receives a text message with coordinates to different location. The brothers clash and split up, one following orders, the other trusting his instincts. Meanwhile, in the wilderness of Cascade Range, Washington State, Zoë loses grip on a personal case and is forced to confront her demons. Without back up, this might very well turn out to be her final hunt. Part three summary: Two leads point into different directions. Which one are the Winchester brothers going to follow? Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Swearing, smoking, weaponry. Descriptions of torture and murder. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Descriptions of suicidal thoughts and tendencies, depression, panic attacks, hallucinations. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 & @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E03 “Black Dog” Masterlist

Dean gives his Chevrolet Impala a final clean up and looks at the end result. Ronny nods satisfied, too. “Good as new.” They mechanics carefully beat out the small dent in the lid and restored the paint with a polisher. The lock of the trunk took some time to replace, but now it closes perfectly.

“Thanks, man,” Dean says gratefully, offering him some money for the work. “Any time. Put that away. I owe you Winchesters more than that,” Ronny reminds him. “Sure you guys don’t want a beer?” Dean hesitates, but then shakes his head. “I’d love to catch up, but we should get going. The world isn’t rid of all evil motherfuckers just yet.” Ronny chuckles at that. “Fair enough. Good to see you again, though.” “You too. Take care, Ron,” the oldest Winchester brother returns.

The ex-hunter retreats back into his garage, and Dean glances at the trunk for the second time and smiles satisfied. He’s glad he got it fixed. The clunking sound every time they hit a pothole was driving him crazy, and with enough arsenal for a small military operation inside, he wasn’t really keen on leaving it unlocked either.

As he takes a look around the abandoned street, he realizes he’s missing the tall individual that usually occupies the passenger’s seat. Where the hell did Sam go? Instinctively, Dean scans the area, uneasiness evident in his stomach, a sensation which arises ever since he was a kid, whenever he loses sight of his little brother. Then he spots him a bit further down the road. He’s on the phone with someone, and for a second he wonders if it’s Zoë he’s having a conversation with.

Waiting for his brother to return, he leans against his car, shoving his hands in his pockets. The sun feels nice and warm on his back as it burns away the coolness of the night. Now that he has nothing to do for a moment, his thoughts sneak off. He doesn’t like it one bit, but he can’t help but think of the huntress they crossed paths with a little under a week ago. He may pretend that he doesn’t give a shit, but he has to admit that she has been on his mind more than a couple of times. Not that he likes her, fuck no, but Sullivan left an impression that has him wondering. She has been through more in the twenty-five years that she has walked this earth than most endure in an entire lifetime. Maybe that is why he deep down cares; he can relate to her.

Dean exhales, not dwelling too long on the reason behind the intrigue. Instead, he wonders if Sam’s presumption is actually true. The fierce Zoë Sullivan being in deep shit; he can barely picture it. She always seems in control, even when things don't go as planned. She caught him off guard. He, Dean Winchester, can you fuckin’ believe that? The older Winchester sibling rolls his harmed shoulder, testing its mobility. She shot me, for fuck’s sake.

Even though he has been in the field longer than she has, Zoë seems to expertly know her way around the world of monsters that is their reality. She’s a bright girl, skilled, fast, fearless. She has every aspect of a perfect hunter. But after those last words back in Paragould, he was left with the impression that the battle she was going towards, is one she didn’t expect to win. It truly felt like a final goodbye. A disturbing question pops up in his head; did he make a mistake not going after her? The two guys they saved from a werewolf in Waco probably don’t think so.

Dean stares ahead, pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth while contemplating his choices. Maybe they should go after her anyway, see if they can pick up her trail. North is indeed a big place, but then again, a hot chick on a Harley Davidson would stand out. It’s a long shot, but if they play this right, they may be able to find her.

The matter escapes his mind when he feels his phone vibrating, the buzzing device startling him slightly. Somewhat annoyed by his own reflex, the hunter takes his Motorola and notices the small icon of an envelope in the right upper corner; he has received a text message. It’s probably Erin, his hook up back in Waco, who had to wake up alone this morning. She must be wondering where the man she met in a bar three days prior has gone. But when Dean opens his inbox, his eyes widen in shock.

At the top of the list of incoming messages, it says ‘Dad’.

Dean’s heart has picked up speed, now pounding twice as fast than it was seconds ago. Last time he checked, his father’s phone was inactive, and now there’s a message coming in from that number? Different scenarios flash through his mind, not sure if he should prepare for good or bad news. With shaky fingers, he opens the text.

Job: 48°13’11.00”N 121°41’4045”W

Dean exhales, still staring at his cell. He can’t fucking believe it. John disappeared from the face of the earth, nowhere to be found, and after all this time he sent a few numbers and letters. The older Winchester brother huffs out a laugh. It doesn’t matter, though. Relief frees Dean from the crippling worry that he has tried to stuff down for over a month now, but kept him up at night nonetheless. This text confirms what he’s been hoping for; Dad is alive.

Thrilled, Dean turns around and glances down the street, noticing Sam, who hastens towards the car. He can’t wait to share the news, knowing they have both been so desperate for a breakthrough.

“We’ve gotta go,” they both say at the same time. “Me first,” Dean demands, childish. “What are you? Seven?” Sam huffs, raising an eyebrow to match with the sass. Despite his accusation, he counters in the same manner. “What I’ve just heard is bigger.” “Bigger than this?” Dean brags while flashing a grin, victoriously handing his brother the Motorola.

Curiosity wins and Sam takes it, attentively reading the message. His eyes narrow, but then his jaw falls open when he realizes who the sender is. John’s youngest son isn’t impressed, though. In fact, what shows on the display infuriates him.

“That’s it?” he scoffs, agitated, giving the phone back to his brother. “After a month of silence, that’s what he gives us?” “Sam, don’t you realize what this means? He’s okay!” Dean brings to mind. “Don’t bitch about this.” “Just because he’s able to send us a text message, doesn’t mean that he’s okay. We’re not even sure it’s him!” Sam returns bitterly. “Oh, come on. This is so Dad. One word and coordinates, that’s straight up Marine Corps right there. It’s more convincing than his fuckin’ signature,” the older brother argues.

“And what the hell are we supposed to do with this? Trust him blindly and do a job he can’t find the time for because he’s hunting whatever the thing is that killed Mom?” Sam assumes, his arms flying up before he lets them come down to his sides again. “Exactly,” Dean states, matter of factly. “Don’t you see, Sam? This is what I’ve been telling you. He doesn’t want to be found, he wants us to hunt.”

Dean opens the passenger side door and rummages in the dashboard locker. When he straightens his back, he pulls out a brown notebook; it’s John’s journal. “This book. This is dad’s single most valuable possession. Everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. He could’ve taken it with him, but he didn’t. He’s passed it on to us.” Dean looks deep into his brother's eyes while he points at the leather bound book that is the representation of the Bible to the Winchesters. “Dad’s journal, the text... Dad is telling us he wants us to do what we were trained for.”

“You know what I want? I want to find him,” Sam returns determined, handing back the phone. “And how the fuck were you planning to achieve that, huh?” Dean returns. “I don’t need a plan, I already know where he is,” the younger brother states.

Puzzled, Dean stares at him, waiting for an explanation. There has been zero contact between their old man and Sam for years, and now all of a sudden he has figured out where John is at? “How?” he questions, suspicion rising. “I just received a call. He’s in Tennessee. In Nashville to be precise,” his sibling states. Dean frowns. “A call? From who?”

The shrug of Sam’s shoulders is nonchalant. “I think she might be a hunter or something.” “She? Does this mystery lady have a name?” Dean questions further, trying to get details while frustration bubbles in his chest, triggered by his brother’s short answers. “She didn’t give it, but it doesn’t matter. We’re going to Tennessee,” Sam decides.

Dean laughs out loud, dropping the journal on the passenger’s seat before he turns away. Then he returns to glare at Sam as if he just made a joke. “You wanna go to fucking Nashville based on an anonymous call? Did the sun fry your brain or something? This could be a fucking trap, Sam!” Dean shouts, indignant. But his sibling is determined. “I don’t care. If he’s there, I’m going.”

Dean steps closer and halts right in front of him. He has to look up to stare into the eyes of his taller brother, but that doesn’t make him any less intimidating.

“Dad has given us an order,” he growls, his words spoken in a low tone. “I said: I. don’t. care,” Sam battles him. “Well I do, you stubborn dumbass!” Dean counters with a raised voice. “What you are planning to do is fucking dangerous! Dad doesn’t want you on his tail, you’ll blow his cover!”

“You’re calling me a dumbass?! Dad is after an incredibly powerful monster by himself, alone! He’s the dumbass for not accepting our help! We already lost Mom, I lost Jess, I’m not going to lose him too. I want answers, I want a piece of that son of a bitch that ruined our lives and I want it right fucking now! If Dad doesn’t want me there, that’s his problem!” Sam shouts angrily.

“You’re going against him?” Dean isn’t impressed with the outbreak, and slightly shakes his head. “Oh right, I forgot. That’s what you always do; the exact opposite of what he asks!” he continues cynically. “He doesn’t ask. He orders,” his brother corrects. “And you follow those orders like a fucking lapdog.” “It doesn’t matter how he tells us what to do, Sam! He’s our God damn father, so you better suck it up and fucking LISTEN!!!”

Dean is sure one of Ronny’s neighbors is going to emerge from one of the houses, telling them to shut up and take this argument elsewhere, instead of fighting it out in the middle of the street. He doesn’t care, however. His little brother has forgotten his place, and he needs to set him straight.

“I do whatever the hell he tells me to do because I trust him, because I respect him, which is something I’m gonna strongly advise you to do as well, because your attitude fucking stinks,” Dean lectures, his moss green eyes penetrating, fire burning in his irises. “Now get in the fucking car, because we’re going to drive to wherever those coordinates lead us to.”

Puffing his chest while straightening his back to make himself seem even taller, Sam crosses his arms. His older sibling might think he has all the authority, but he’s not a little kid anymore who he can boss around. Those days are long gone. He thought his departure to Stanford taught Dean a lesson or two, but apparently he needs to remind his brother that he plays by his own rules, and no one else's. “I’m not going with you,” he decides, standing his ground.

For a moment, Dean just stares at him, giving him a second to reconsider that conclusion, but Sam doesn’t even blink. Their gazes battle, the air between them almost too thick to breathe, rivalry carving a deep canyon between the two. “I’m gonna give you a choice,” Dean snarls. “You can come with me and solve that case, or you can go fuck yourself.”

Sam gulps, but stands his ground. His facial expression doesn’t change as he steps back, away from his brother, and heads over to the back of the Impala without breaking eye contact, until he opens the trunk to grab his duffel. The glare Dean receives when he slams the lid closed says enough; he’s not coming along for the ride.

Stunned, Dean stares at him and huffs in disbelief. Un-fucking-believable. He has always known Sam was stubborn, but now he takes the cake. Disappointed, the older brother shakes his head. This is the second time Sam has chosen a different path and leaves him without even batting an eye, but it scares Dean just as much as when he left and went to college. He’s not alright with what he’s about to do, but he can’t give in. He has to listen to his father. Frustratingly, he pulls open the door of the Impala. “Goodbye, Sam.”

Trying to hide his unpleasant surprise, the man left in the road watches him. He didn’t expect this, Dean taking off without him, but then again, how could he not expect a soldier to follow orders from his general? It doesn’t change anything, though. He is dead set on investigating this lead and finding his father.

The man who is about to put a distance between himself and the one person he swore to never part with again, glances in the rearview mirror. He wishes he hadn’t, because the coldness in Sam’s hazel eyes seems foreign, yet familiar. As Dean starts the engine, he realizes he is either having a major deja-vu, or is reliving one of the worst days of his life. Despite the painful pressure that’s building in his chest and the panic that floods his brain, he lowers his right foot on the gas pedal, and the car rolls away. He doesn’t drive off as fast as he normally would, because he’s fighting the urge to turn around. Pained, he glances in his mirror again. “C’mon, Sam. Move,” he begs.

But Sam doesn’t even lift a finger, and he remains in the exact same spot. Then he does move, but not in the way Dean hoped. His little brother turns his back on him and heads towards downtown Hillsboro, in the opposite direction.

With a deep sigh, Dean shakes his head, clamping his left hand around the wheel until his knuckles turn white. “Stubborn bastard,” he sighs.

His jaw clenches, as West Elm Street flows over in Route 22 and the landscape around him changes. Small homes and sheds make room for stretched out farmlands. But he doesn’t notice the scenery. His conscience is fighting his heart. He wants to hit the brakes and pull the car into a 180° so badly, but he has to listen to his father. Never in his life has Dean done anything else than that, disobedience not being a word one could find in his dictionary. Yet in this situation, both of the options are pitfalls. It doesn’t matter which way he goes, he will make a mistake either way. Because the one line that his father drilled in his mind over and over again keeps haunting him.

Take care of Sammy.

He grinds his teeth, but continues to drive further and further away, his upbringing leaving him no choice. The hunter has made his decision; he’s going to find the location of those coordinates and do the job his Dad has given him. He knows what he’s doing, he’s just hoping Sam does too, because if something happens to his little brother, Dean knows he will never be able to forgive himself.

Well, shit. The boys have gone separate ways. Who do you think will find what he’s looking for?

Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part four here

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stereden · 4 years ago

Note

Author commentary: THE BOYS FINALLY BREAKING DOWN IN SHANKS CABIN PLEASE AND THANK YOU

One of my all time favourite scenes and also one of the ones where I made myself cry writing it xD

Buggy’s breakdown had been planned from the very first moment Buggy appeared at Marineford: even without that particular clusterfuck, Buggy had just spent months in Impel Down with no news of his crew, then had to deal with the nerve wracking experience that is Monkey D. Luffy and the escape of Impel Down itself, which, honestly, would be enough to give any reasonable person a nervous breakdown (hence why it had no effect whatsoever on Luffy)

But then came Marineford, and with it multiple triggers and aggravating factors for Buggy.

Psychological/emotional factors, first: having all these escaped prisoners look to him for leadership; the realisation that his captain had had a kid and never told them; the realisation that the Rogers gathered to save the kid but couldn’t be bothered to come and save him; the setting, much too reminiscent to Loguetown and Roger’s death; a kid being held responsible for his father’s sins; the emotional toll of having oversensitive Haki and being in the middle of the biggest battlefield ever, bigger even than Edd War had been; seeing the Rogers again for the first time since Roger’s death; seeing Crocus again, with everything that happened there; being alone until Rockstar makes it there; being terrified of being recognised and hunted down again; the parallels between Roger’s death and Newgate’s attempt at going out in a blast of glory while allowing his kids to escape

Add in the physical factors: a battlefield full of giants on both side; Devil fruits aplenty rewriting the laws of physics; too much noise; too many smells; the very buildings being liable to collapse at any moment because of Devil Fruit fuckery; Buggy’s own physical state being... very not good after Impel Down; Buggy being very aware of just how small a fish he is compared to everyone else there...

Buggy’s breakdown was sealed in stone long before he decided to step in between Akainu and his prey - that part just made it even worse than it would have been. Add in Sengoku targetting him, then Blackbeard getting a bit too interested, and the fact that Buggy didn’t have a panic attack right there and then is a testament to his survival instincts, honestly.

Now Shanks, Shanks on the other hand would have been mostly fine if Buggy hadn’t been in danger. It sounds callous, putting it like this, but it’s definitely Buggy’s role in it that pushed him over the edge. Sure, he would have been very worried about Luffy, and probably would have had a heart attack or ten, but he would be nowhere as badly off as he was with Buggy in the middle of things - and, he would probably have been even more worried but a lot less on the edge of a flashback himself if it hadn’t been broadcasted.

Because this whole thing, this is way too similar to what happened to them when they were kids and being hunted down by Roger’s enemies. Having Buggy be in danger, be hurt while Shanks can do nothing but watch, is the worst form of torture, a reminder of those years they got separated and Buggy went through hell without Shanks being there to help him. And, unlike with Luffy where he can at least somewhat trust that Newgate’s people won’t let the reckless brat die on them, if only for Ace’s sake... He has no such assurances in Buggy’s case, with the exception of Rockstar, who he couldn’t be sure had made it to Marineford until he showed up on the screen. Until he saw Rockstar, he had absolutely zero assurance that someone out there was watching Buggy’s back. Worse, he knows Buggy is this close to a breakdown and has no guarantee that he’ll be able to keep it at bay until Shanks can get there. And then Buggy, who’s not exactly a crack shot with a gun, is suddenly facing a rampaging Akainu with only a gun in hand, and he somehow manages the perfect shot, but then Sengoku is about to attack him and then Blackbeard, and yeah, no, that does it, Shanks is done with everything.

Now on to the breakdown proper (after six huge paragraphs of what led to the breakdown itself xD)

It was very important for me that the breakdown take place privately, in a space that feels safe for both of them: so, of course, it had to happen in Shanks’ cabin. Not only is it isolated and you would have to go through every single Akagami + Force and Speed in order to get to them, this is a space that is basically infused with Shanks presence, which would have a soothing and comforting effect for Buggy.

They both really, really needed a hug, so of course that’s the first thing that happens in that scene. Physical reassurrance that the other is real, is here and alive.

It was also important that, while Shanks was also on edge and about to have his own breakdown, Buggy had his first: he’d been pretending to be fine for too long, but now his mask is breaking, and Shanks has already proven himself to be very, very good at pushing his own breakdown aside to care for those he loves (see: Smiling at Luffy and comforting him despite just getting his entire arm bitten off by a giant seamonster). And Shanks, objectively, has been through less, emotionally and physically speaking, than Buggy, and the best way for Shanks to help himself right now is to help Buggy.

The shower scene just had to happen, because I’m a sucker for someone crying fully clothed in the shower and someone else stepping in to comfort them scenes.

The fact that they maintain physical contact during the entire scene is very much deliberate. They are both very much codependent and tend to touch all the time whenever they meet up, but this is compounded by Buggy having just spent months alone in an unsafe environment where any touch meant pain. Buggy is very much touchstarved, and also needs the grounding effect of Shanks’ touch to prevent himself from spiralling or dissociating. In return, Shanks very much needs the reassurance that Buggy is right there, alive and breathing despite everything that happened.

Same for the sleep schedule and nightmares: it’s in part a return to habits they got while on the run (one sleeping, one keeping watch for enemies, which also means someone being there to wake you up if you’re having a nightmare) and also a way to help each other through the nightmares that they’re both going to have for a long time after this mess.

I’m also a sucker for non-sexual intimacy, so that added to that part as well.

The thing is, while both of them have crews that they love and who love them right back, and who can and do support them and help them as much as they can, the fact remain that, most of the time, the only person that can really help them is each other. It’s not just the shared past and shared trauma, though that plays a role as well; it’s also a matter of a. unconditional trust and b. their position as equal vs their position as captain over their own crews. Even if they’re not too big on authority and hierarchy within their own crews, the fact remains that their nakama are their responsabilities and they don’t want to burden them with their problem or feel like their crew needs to protect them when it’s their jobs to protect their crews.

(And also, maybe, not wanting their crews to go on a murder spree on their behalf, but that’s another matter entirely)

So the only person they can really go to when they reach their limit is each other, but because of circumstances (cough cough Garp throwing a tantrum cough cough) they hadn’t been able to see each other in person in over three years. Denden calls help, but they’re not the same. So it’s not just Impel Down and Marineford and seeing the Rogers that just hit them, it’s also over three years without seeing each other and being able to help each other through memories and nightmares both.

One of the things I really wanted to get through with this scene is that there’s no shame in having emotions, nor in expressing them - expressing your emotions is healthy! No toxic mascuilinity here, no sire! Not expressing them in a situation where it could be dangerous is one thing, but you are allowed to be vulnerable and need help and ask for it.

This is probably a much longer commentary than you expected haha but I hope you enjoyed it!

#stereden talks #one piece #dvd commentary #stereden writes #buggy the clown #akagami no shanks #Watashitachi wa Roger kaizoku desu (we still stand proud)#the breakdown scene #yes i made myself cry writing that particular scene #Anonymous

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blkmxrvel · 5 years ago

Text

Haven’t Forgotten My Way Home [17] - (CONVERTED)

Pairing: Kara Zor-El x Female!Reader

Summary: In the D/s society of National City, men and women abandoned by their Dom/mes or otherwise deemed unfit for life “outside” end up at the Mount Overland House for Orphaned Submissives. It is here that Kara Zor-El finds Y/N Hastings, broken and fearful from mistreatment at the hands of her former Dom. Can Kara coax Y/N back into the world that once so terrified her, and show her the true meaning of care and submission?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (Flashbacks, Mentions and Descriptions), Misogyny, Domination/Submission.

A/N: hi, back from the dead just to finish uploading this story conversion bc I’ve gotten a lot of asks about it! Still not writing anything myself so 😗 yeah Hope you enjoy

“Kara, is that a zip drive in your hand or are you just happy to see me?”

“… no?”

“I’m not watching any PowerPoints.”

“I brought cake?”

Lena sighed heavily and stepped aside to let Kara pass through the front door. “I regret ever telling you that cake is my weakness,” she pointed out. She closed the door and turned to Kara with a searching look. “And I imagine you’re here to talk to me about yours.”

“Am I that transparent?” Kara asked, sitting both the zip drive and the chocolate cake (extra icing) on the table. She sighed and sat down on the couch, then glanced up at the ceiling. “You don’t, er, have anyone tied up at the moment, do you?”

“No,” Lena smirked. “She’s gone to the pharmacy.”

“Oh,” Kara said as her friend sat next to her and crossed her legs. “I hope everything’s all right?”

“Everything’s just fine,” Lena said, and her smirk widened into a full-blown smile. “She’s gone for a pregnancy test.”

“Lena!” Kara gasped, launching herself at the woman and pulling her into a hug. “Lena, that’s amazing!”

Lena returned the hug, laughing. “We don’t know for sure yet, of course,” she cautioned. “But we’ve been trying for a little while and Sam's late, so…”

“This is the real deal, huh?” Kara said, pulling away and smiling with a wistful look. She’d known it was real when Lena had told her of her claim, but a baby… She couldn’t help but wonder what if-

“Kara?” Lena placed her hand on Kara’s knee, rubbing gently. Her voice was full of concern as she asked, “You’re not… jealous, are you?”

“What? No!” Kara said, shaking her head vigorously. She willed her smile to be a little less sad, realizing that Lena had completely misunderstood the emotion behind it. “You know I love you, Lena, but you also know I stopped caring for you like that a while ago.”

She hadn’t expected for their relationship to deepen the way it did. She was young and Lena was more experienced, both in their lifestyle and in life. Most people didn’t start relationships after their training was complete, but after Kara had spent her week on her knees learning from Lena, things had changed once she’d gotten back on her feet. In Lena she had found a caring Dominant, someone willing to take time for Kara, to teach her things that Kara couldn’t learn from books. And in Lena Kara had found an equal, someone who inspired her intellectually, met her attitude measure for measure, and had been responsible for more than just one awakening.

So it wasn’t any wonder Lena was concerned about residual feelings. Kara knew her feelings for the woman to whom she’d given her virginity wouldn’t just fade away, but she also knew that they could change. And, “It’s not really you I was thinking of,” Kara confessed, “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Lena said, seeming relieved.

“Just imagining what it would be like to know she was going out to buy a pregnancy test. For herself, or me.” Kara shrugged. “I guess I am quite transparent.”

“And a bit jumping the gun,” Lena said matter-of-factly. “I’m not sure either of you are ready for that leap yet. But you obviously didn’t make a PowerPoint to discuss what movies Y/N likes.”

“Wizard of Oz,” Kara muttered half to herself, and then sighed again. “I don’t suppose you really need to see the PowerPoint, though it’s a very good one, if I do say so myself.”

“And the subject?” Lena said, getting up to pour herself and Kara a drink and to cut the cake for them to share.

“Forty slides of reasons why I cannot fulfill Y/N’s request for me to dominate her.”

Lena’s hands stopped in mid-air, the knife hovering over the cake, and she gaped at Kara. “She asked you to dominate her?”

“Yes.”

“And I’m correct in assuming that you said no?”

“Would I be sitting in your living room, looking appropriately and movingly distressed if I had said yes?”

“Watch yourself, Kara,” Lena said sharply. “You know I will not accept disrespect, no matter how distressed you are, and even if you are not my submissive.”

Kara rolled her eyes, even as she winced. She well remembered the pain in her 17 year old bottom from every smack of Lena’s hand, and then the belt. But that didn’t compare to the humiliation of seeing Lena’s disappointed face beforehand as she gave Kara the lecture about respect, or being put over Lena’s lap with her skirt flipped up and her panties down.

“I’m sorry,” Kara said quietly. “I just…” She trailed off and accepted the drink and plate Lena handed her before sitting down next her again.

“You didn’t want to say no.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then why did you?”

Kara shrugged again. “I don’t know. Because she isn’t ready. Because I’m not ready. Because she has nightmares every night of him. Because she flinches whenever I raise my voice? Because if I even say the word ‘whipped’ or ‘paddled’ or ‘punished,’ she looks at me like she’s seeing him. Because—“

“You’re scared.”

“I really hate how you put words in my mouth.”

“You hate the fact that I’m right more.” Kara hmphed, and Lena chuckled a little. “You’re scared to dominate her, but you’re not happy with just casually dating either.”

Their society hadn’t really been built around casual dating, Kara knew. Back when her parents were young, when their parents were young, it was unspoken that when you found a Dominant, you were claimed by them before you even thought of doing anything with them. It was to be forever, a bond that was never to be broken. Kara had to admit that she preferred the way things were done now. If she had been born decades ago she would have never even thought about giving herself sexually first to Lena, instead of to her intended. But she was grateful for the experience, and even more glad that Dominants and submissives had the freedom to choose who they wanted to be with, and were allowed to have the sort of “trial and error” relationships that wouldn’t have been possible in the past. No longer did submissives feel as if they had to submit themselves to the first Dominant they came across, and no longer did Dominants feel as if they had to make a claim as soon as they reached a certain age.

And dating Y/N was nice… for the little time they had done it. Kara felt a particular twist in her stomach as she wondered if she’d ever be able to feel that way again, to be excited waking up the morning of a date. The rush of kissing in the moonlight before Y/N went inside Nia’s house. Sitting across from Y/N in a crowded coffee shop and knowing that Y/N only had eyes for her.

But Lena was right. For Kara, that wasn’t enough. She’d always pictured herself as meeting The One – the submissive with whom she’d share that unbreakable connection. She was probably too melodramatic for her own good, she’d been raised on musicals after all; but Kara had always imagined it would be the meeting of eyes across a crowded room. Two people gravitating towards each other, reaching out to grasp hands and… that would be it. Lover and friend, Dominant and submissive, together forever.

It was a child’s dream, and she was no longer a child. But that didn’t stop her from wishing.

“What exactly is it that you think I’m afraid of?”

“Why are you afraid of going to New York?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?!” Kara snapped, slamming her drink down on the table in front of the couch. She saw Lena’s lips tighten, and Kara took a deep breath. “Y/N seems to think I’m terrified of that as well.”

“And let me guess, you shut her down.”

“I didn’t shut her down; I merely told her the conversation was closed.”

“Refresh my memory on how that is different.” Kara didn’t say anything, just crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at the carpet. Lena sighed. “Do you remember when I was training you, and you sassed off at me so I whipped you?”

“How could I forget? I felt it for a week afterward.”

“And what’s part of the reason?”

Kara refused to look at Lena. “You accidentally wrapped the belt over my hip.” Lena had taken the utmost care with her, but she knew from her classes at the Academy that sometimes accidents happen. And that the most important thing was to tell your Dominant. But Kara had wanted to make Lena proud, hadn’t wanted the woman to see her as weak when Kara was working so hard to be good. A good submissive-in-training, a good Dominant. So she had kept quiet, even through the pain.

“And you didn’t tell me until I saw you looking at the mark in the mirror later that night.”

“No, Miss Lena.”

It felt weird, saying that, because she wasn’t a submissive and Lena wasn’t her Dominant, but Kara hadn’t spoken to Y/N for the last three days – she hadn’t called – and Kara had been struggling to maintain control of a life that she felt was spiraling out of her reach. Lena had always, ever since Kara was seventeen, been able to pull Kara out of herself and take that control, even for just a little while. Enough for Kara to clear her head and start thinking rationally again. Sometimes it was just nice to have Lena wrap her arms around Kara and pull her close, for Kara not to have to think about being strong and brave and dominant.

“What did I tell you that night, once I’d made sure you were all right and after I’d apologized for being careless?”

Kara nuzzled herself deeper into Lena’s arms, taking a deep breath and letting the worries that had overwhelmed her slip away a little. “That communication was important. That you can’t have a true relationship between a Dominant and a submissive unless both parties know they can talk freely, about anything and everything. But this is different,” she protested.

“No, it’s not,” Lena said firmly. “You’re afraid to go to New York, and you’re afraid to dominate Y/N just as much as she’s afraid to be dominated by you. You have a right to talk to Y/N about being afraid to dominate her, and she has a right to ask you why you’re so scared about that, and why you’re so scared to go to New York. And if neither of you talk about either of those things, then every fear you have right now of being like him is going to come true.”

“She’s not ready,” Kara said, sitting up. “She tells me that she doesn’t want to have to choose all the time, but how can she say that when she’s never even had choices?”

“You know,” Lena mused, smiling a little at Kara, “As much as I like wolves, you and the council did rather just toss Y/N out to them.” Seeing Kara’s look of confusion, she continued, “Think about it. Y/N’s life, although harsh, was all she’s ever known. And though she left on her own, she was still ripped away from it. And now you, and the council, and everyone involved is telling Y/N that she has to do it all herself, that she can’t have any support system. No wonder she’s terrified.”

“Having a support system is a lot different from being dominated, though,” Kara said, standing up and beginning to pace around Lena’s living room floor. “It isn’t as if she’s completely alone. She has Alex, and Maggie. Nia and her physical therapist and Miss Holliday. She doesn’t need to be dominated; she needs to learn what it’s like to have friends. She needs to learn it’s okay to have her own needs and desires and to have all of them met. She can’t do that if someone starts dominating her just months after she got away from that… that asshole. I can still be supportive of Y/N while not being her Dominant.”

“And you can dominate her without being her Dominant, and without taking away her choices.”

Kara didn’t see how that was possible. As much as just casually dating Y/N wasn’t enough, she didn’t think she could dominate her, either, not without the intent to claim her. And Y/N was nowhere near ready for that. Kara didn’t know if she’d ever be ready. No, the important thing was that Y/N knew she had choices, and that she learned how to make them. Maybe then, after a few years, they’d both be ready to try.

“Plus I could get in trouble with the council,” Kara offered, but knew by the way Lena rolled her eyes that she’d seen past the feeble excuse. She was good at that.

“The council,” Lena scoffed, shaking her head and moving to refill her drink. “The council, my darling Kara, is nothing but a group of old men sitting around thinking that they know what’s best for the Dominants and submissives of our society. And frankly I don’t think they should be telling me or you a damn thing about how to live our lives when they probably can’t even dominate their own penises into doing what they want.”

Kara choked on her drink and tapped her chest, spluttering. She stared at Lena in shock; her former lover simply smirked at her. “So you’re telling me to go against the council? Against what I think is the right thing?”

“I’m telling you to stop being so scared.” Kara sat back down on the couch and Lena once again patted her knee. “Tell me, when she asked you to dominate you, what terrified you?”

Kara thought for a moment. “How much she wanted me to punish her. I didn’t think, after all that she’s been through… I thought that would be the last thing she’d ask for.”

Lena nodded. “She probably wanted you to physically punish her too.”

“I’ll never,” Kara said vehemently. “I’ll never do that to her. Ever.”

“Notice that you just said you will never, not that you would never.”

“I hate you and your word-twisting ways,” Kara muttered, and Lena laughed. “I just don’t understand why she would want that. After everything he’s done to her, why would she want me to punish her? To spank her?”

“She obviously did something that made her think she needed to be punished.”

“She was being a grumpy brat.”

“Oh dear, you have met your match, then,” Lena said, sounding more than a little gleeful. “I can’t wait to see how this plays out.” Seeing Kara’s glare, she cleared her throat and continued. “So she did something that upset you, and she wanted to rectify the situation. In Y/N’s mind, wrongdoing equals punishment. Punishment results in forgiveness, forgiveness means moving forward with a clean slate. So that sounds remarkably—“

“Submissive,” Kara finished for her, sighing. “So it’s the not the punishment she wants, it’s something normal. Something she knows. Even if it means I’d punish her physically, she’d try to take it just so she could have that little piece of her life back. But isn’t that proof that she isn’t ready?”

“No. It’s proof that she’s trying to take control of her own life.”

Kara blinked. “I don’t follow.”

“A Dominant doesn’t need a submissive, but you can’t dominate anyone until you have a submissive. And you can’t have a submissive until one chooses to be yours. Until someone chooses to give you that control, you don’t have it. And Y/N made her choice. She took control of her own choices, her own wants, and tried to give you her submission. Everything you would be in that relationship is because she has made the choice to give it to you.”

“I don’t know if it’s me she wants, or just… someone to be nice to her.”

“No one’s saying for you to claim her.”

“Then what are you saying?” When Lena was silent, Kara pressed harder. “Lena, you know I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t value your opinion more than most, probably even more than my daddies’. You’re the one that taught me, and if I’m going to be a good Dominant it’s partly because of what I learned from you. Please.”

“Do you think you’re going to be a good Dominant?” Lena met Kara’s eyes, challenging her. “Isn’t that what’s really holding you back, both from dominating Y/N and going to New York? You don’t think you’re good enough for either.”

Kara felt the chill run from the base of her neck down her spine, and she struggled to maintain her control over the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her at Lena’s words. How many nights had she lain in bed since she was 18 years old, dreaming of New York, of Broadway, of the school where people would appreciate her, where she would feel home? It had been a long time since she felt the excitement of new possibilities, of new discovery. She’d gotten used to getting up every day, the three cups of coffee before 9 a.m. that would barely sustain her for the rest of the day. Gotten used to meeting life’s broken, the castoffs, the unwanted, and feeling powerless to fix any of it. But gradually thoughts of New York had been replaced by helping who she could; dreams of Broadway had been pushed aside in favor of being the leading actress in a play of saving the world. Or at least the Lima part of it.

And then she’d met Y/N Hastings.

Now things were different. Now Kara got up every day not just thinking of the wounded submissives, but thinking of one. And lately the thoughts of one were overriding the thoughts of many. Y/N made her feel… awake, for the first time in a long time. Things that Kara hadn’t felt since she was on her knees for Lena, in Lena’s arms, in Lena’s bed came rushing back to her with a force that she hadn’t known even with her former lover. And there it was, the desire to care for one, the desire to control one, the desire to bring one to her knees and then lift her back up.

The one that felt like home.

But it scared Kara to death.

Because when she thought of Y/N on her knees, it wasn’t Kara herself she saw behind the other woman. It was him, with his harsh words and brutal hand. But the words were in her voice, the hand attached to her arm, and Kara knew she would rather die than be to Y/N what James had been. She tried to tell herself that there was no possible way she could be like him, that the very fact she’d rather die than treat Y/N badly would be the prevention of it, but Kara knew, again, that even experienced Dominants like Lena sometimes messed up. What if she destroyed Y/N even further than she had already been? What if she punished her the wrong way, said the wrong thing, was the wrong Dominant for the girl and neither of them realized it until it was too late? What if, just like in her dreams for Broadway, Kara suddenly found herself lacking?

What if she wasn’t good enough?

“You’re getting too far inside your own head,” Lena said quietly, a hand on Kara’s shoulder pulling her out of her thoughts. She smiled fondly, wrapping her arm around Kara and hugging her close again. “That’s why I almost never put you in the corner that week. I don’t know if you noticed that. But I could see that you liked to think about things far too much, and you’d end up beating yourself far more than I ever would.”

“What if I’m not good enough?” Kara asked bluntly. “What if I do this and I’m not what she needs, what if I’m the worst possible person for her and I end up hurting her worse than even he did?”

“Again, no one’s asking you to claim her. You just need to find a good balance, something that works for both of you.”

“How do I find that balance?”

Lena smiled and squeezed Kara. “By listening to your nature. To what’s in your heart. Kara, you’re more than good enough. For Y/N, and for New York. You’ve been wonderful, taking care of your father and doing your job. But maybe now it’s time for you to focus on yourself, and on Y/N too. You’ll never know, you might find out you’re exactly what she needs. And she might be exactly who you need. But you never know until you try. Oh, and Kara?”

“Yes?”

Lena hugged Kara close to her, pulling the girl’s head onto her chest. “I am so proud of you.”

Lena’s words echoed in Kara’s head hours after, when she lay in her bed in the darkness, idly petting Arnie and staring at the phone resting on her chest. People had told her before that they were proud of her, her fathers mostly, but somehow it was different, coming from Lena. It was almost like vindication, reassurance that the path she was on was the right one. Even if she wasn’t sure of it.

She glanced at the clock. Two twenty-three a.m. She glanced down at the phone again.

What would it take, Kara wondered. What would it take for her to stop being scared? What would it take for her and Y/N to throw caution to the wind and trust each other? What would it take for her to find that balance, the mix of dominance and freedom that Y/N not only craved, but needed? What would it take for Kara to be who she was born to be, and to maybe find the person she was born to be with?

A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.

Kara picked up the phone and took a deep breath, pressing a button. The speed dial kicked in instantly.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Then, just as she was about to hang up, a sleepy but panicked voice. “A-are you all right? Do you n-need anything?”

Kara smiled a little to herself, reaching up a hand to wipe at the tears that had begun to fall.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Yes, Y/N, I do need something.

#kara danvers x reader #madi converts #kara danvers #kara zor el x reader #kara Zor-el #lena luthor #supergirl x reader #supergirl

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truelovevoltage · 4 years ago

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Ice Princess - Krioff

“Anonymous said: For kriof, he notice that mc would carry around a box with markings. It turns out that she used to be a princess that has ice powers, which cause her parents to be afraid of her except for maid. One day she and the maid decided to have a sleepover together as way to help mc feel better; she was so happy her powers got unlock which led to accidental maid die. After her death, mc found a way to lock her powers which was the box. Afterward he and mc became close and end up falling in love. I hope it help”

Y/N and Krioff weren’t always close as they are now, they use ignore each other presence when one of them passes by. But for Krioff to ignore someone while he walks down the hall is normal, it’s nothing new. Y/N on the other hand was used to greeting everyone she met, that is until the incident happen. Ever since then, she wasn’t the same Y/N anymore.

Krioff noticed the small box with markings that Y/N would always carry whenever there’s a lot of people around her. No one’s really suspicious about it because it looks like something she’d hold to carry her things such as her reading book, pencil and paper because she tends to sketch sometimes.

One day Y/N came out to the backyard and she sat at her most memorable spot with her maid. Krioff can only watch and observe her from afar but he did notice the box beside her again. It made him curious what was inside the box that she carries around and wanted to confront her about it.

He walked towards Y/N, “May I sit here?” He asked.

“That’s fine, as long as you don’t bother me.” She stated.

It was now or never, he was going to ask her about the box no matter what. Curiousity killed the cat they say, but curiousity is killing him softly and wanted to get over with it. “Just one thing though... Y/N what’s in that box? And why do you carry that around?”

Y/N stopped what she was doing and drop her pen. She looked at Krioff and he was determined to know what was in the box. She sighed, “Well if you must know... You might as well listen. But let me tell you this I am not repeating it okay?” She looked at him before starting her story.

”First of all you should know by now that I tend to push people away because she’s afraid that she’ll hurt them, even her own parent feared me. Why? You might ask, its because of the power that I possess”

Flashback

Her parents were afraid of the power she posses and could possible harm them or the kingdom that they rule. They didn’t see Y/N as their daughter but they saw her as a threat, this meant that they did everything to keep Y/N away from the public and the eyes of their people. No one knew what the Princess Y/N looked like unless they’re inside working in the castle.

Although she has ice powers, she feels like the love from her parents are colder compared to it. She never understood why her parents were very distant to her, but whenever she saw a maid’s love to their child, she felt envious. Sometimes she’d wonder if her parents regretted having her at all or that they wished she was never born.

One day her parents appointed a maid to take care of Y/N. She was around her age and didn’t have any family, the maid was taken in and they’d train her in order to have a place to sleep in. Y/N didn’t know the importance of a friend or feeling love and wanted because she was never given that kind of affection from her parents. But everything changed when the maid came into her life.

Y/N was happier and would smile a lot. But because she was quite young, she didn’t know how to control her powers just yet. That was easily solved due to the young maids observation. “Your Majesty, I think the Princess’ mood can either cause greatness to our kingdom or the opposite of it.” Both the King and Queen looked at the young girl thinking that she’s crazy. “What do you mean by that exactly?” The King asked.

“I have noticed that whenever the Princess is happy or in a good mood it’s always warmer around her or the weather outside in general even though it’s the peak of our winter season. But if she’s in a foul mood the temperature drops therefore there are time during our winter season comes early. However this is just an observation Your Majesty, it is just a theory.”

The King and Queen thought about those times where their winter came sooner that they’d expect that’s why the people in their kingdom would start harvesting or travelling to neighbouring kingdoms to trade their crops. They wanted to test this theory and maybe they’ve been doing everything wrong. Maybe it was time to stop getting scared of their own daughter and maybe start showing her some love.

It was hard for the King and Queen to show their affections at first and it took Y/N by a surprised by the sudden turn of tides that her parents have been acting, not that she hates it or anything but she loved the attention. She was finally getting the attention she wanted from them from the longest time and that was because of a young maid’s observation. “Thank you, it seems like you know our daughter well more that we do.” The Queen thanked the maid. “I don’t have a family anymore but I know how much they loved me and when I saw the Princess, I wanted to help her. There is nothing you should be thanking me for Your Majesty.”

Years have passed and the Kingdom was doing well. There were no more unpredictable winters and Y/N was finally happy. As they grew older their friendship grew stronger. They weren’t a Princess or a Maid, they were bestfriends, sisters even. No one could separate the two and she was the one who showed Y/N the feeling of being loved. And because the Maid made Y/N happy, the King and Queen did not object Y/N’s wish that the maid will sleep in her room with her rather than the maid quarters. It was the least they can do for helping them how to control Y/N powers.

One night on a full moon Y/N invited the maid over to her room. Y/N wanted to know what the world was like out there. “Your Highness the temperature is dropping but the surroundings were still as beautiful as ever.”

“Man, I wish I could go out there someday.” Y/N sighed, she was jealous. She really wants to see the outside world and experience it herself rather than hearing stories. Just then Y/N stomach growled loudly and caused the her and the maid to laugh.

The two of them ventured out to the kitchen trying to make minimal noise because they didn’t want to wake up the people in the castle but the two could stop giggling. Y/N was very happy that day that her powers slowly started to show. The maid knew her powers and she thought that it was very cool that Y/N has powers like that.

“Are you going to make your special shaved ice again Your Highness?” The maid beamed with happiness.

“You’re never going to get tired of eating the shaved ice I make huh.”

“Never!” She replied causing Y/N to chuckle.

Even though they tried to be quiet, the Queen walked down. “Mother!” Y/N yelped in surprise as she hid her hand behind her back and hoped that nothing happen. Regardless of how much she wanted to stop her powers then, most of it hit the maid square on the chest and Y/N only noticed when her bestfriend fell down to the ground.

“No, no, no. This can’t be happening. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” It was starting to get harder for the other girl to breath because her chest was struck with Y/N’s ice powers. The Queen stood there in shock, she didn’t know that she would witness this, she knew that it was an accident as well but that didn’t erase the feeling that she might be Y/N’s next victim. “Your Highness please don’t cry. I know it wasn’t your fault. It was an accident so please don’t cry. You don’t want me to remember your crying face now do we? And I must say this is the only time I can say that you have an ugly cry.” Y/N knew that she was trying to make her feel better and she also knew that she’s trying to take tension away.

“Come on now Your Highness, please smile for me. And promise me that you’ll always be happy no matter what, at least for the both of us.” Y/N could only nod as she cried holding her best friend in her arms. “Can you please smile one last time for me Your Highness? Seeing your smile always made everything better for me.” Y/N wiped all her tears and showed her a smile. “I’ll always remember you Your Highness. I hope you’ll always remember me.... Farewell, my friend.” Her hand went limp and Y/N cried. The Queen woke up the King and told her the news. They needed to think something fast.

The King and Queen new that your powers could either benefit them, or be their worst nightmare, either or, they weren’t going let this happen again. They already neglected her before and that made things worst, now all they could do is guide her and seek help on how to control her powers.

The King thought of an excuse why Y/N needed a new maid and everyone believed them. It was also easier because that maid didn’t have any family therefore no one will look for her even she’s gone.

Ever since the death of her best friend she would try to distance herself from others even her parents. She was afraid that she’d accidentally hurt them just like how she did to her only friend. The King and Queen assured her that it wasn’t going to happen, they will do everything to help Y/N control her powers even if it takes years.

Each day that Y/N mourns for the death of her dearest friend she promised herself not to leave the room anymore unless it’s an important matter. She took out on of the gifts that the maid gave her three years ago when she went to town and shopped around. That was the only thing she had in remembrance of her and she would think about the happy moments they had as she held them. The maid already helped her once when she noticed that Y/N’s mood affects a cold and early winter or warm winter at its peak. And now her gift is acting as an absorber of her powers to lessen it or possibly helping her control it without Y/N even realizing it.

End of Flashback

“And that’s the end of the story. I keep this box around me to keep me from hurting other especially the ones that I love.” Y/N stated.

Krioff can only look at her with admiration. He didn’t know that she went through a lot. Plus he couldn’t believe that her own parents even hated her for in the beginning. They didn’t even bother loving her first and showering her with the love she needs but he was glad someone what there to show her what love was and he wouldn’t mind if he’s going to be the reason why she opens up to people once again.

He knows that its still too early to tell but he wanted to get to know her more and make her happy. He just wanted to be there for her because she doesn’t have anyone else. He wants to fill that void in her heart and although it’ll be a challenge he will take that challenge head on and conquer in no matter how long it takes.

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junie-bugg · 5 years ago

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The Boy In My Bed - Everlark Fanfiction

Hey, here’s an Everlark fanfiction I wrote when I should have been doing one of my many homework assignments. This is my take on the Mockingjay ending involving Katniss and Peeta’s relationship. WARNING: there is some mention/description of sex. This whole little one-shot is basically Katniss and Peeta coming to terms with being intimate in their relationship outside of the prying eyes of the Capital.

I do not own the characters. Please do not steal my work!

Enjoy!

The first night I hunger for more than just his warmth next to me in my bed, he is having a nightmare. He doesn't thrash around and scream like I do. Rather, he tenses. His body is stiff under my hands. At this moment he is so unlike the Peeta I've come to know: soft and gentle. At this moment he is as tensely wound as one of my bow strings before I let an arrow fly. I see his eyes moving back and forth under his tightly closed lids. They flutter like bird’s wings. He is seeing things I cannot. I quietly wonder what they are.

I hold him against me until the nightmare stops and he wakes. He doesn't say anything but he does place a warm hand to my face. I do the same. I feel his tears under my palm. I do not tell him that the feeling of his large hand on my cheek makes me wonder what it would feel like on my bare hips and stomach. I do not tell him that the sound of his deep breathing next to me makes something between my legs curl in pleasure. Perhaps tonight is not the night to tell him or perhaps I'm too scared to. All I know is that when I wake up he's gone back to his own house across the green and his side of the bed is cold. I see his kitchen light on through my window. It's not yet dawn. He left earlier than usual.

He's in my bed more nights than he's in his own, but it's still not enough. I slip on my mother's bathrobe, the one she wore when she lived here, and pad down the stairs. My house is dark and empty. When Prim and my mother were here they would fill the rooms with firelight and soft chatter. Without them, there is nothing. The only time I feel like this house is a home is when Peeta comes to sleep in my bed. We haven't talked much since he planted those primroses in my garden, but he knows me well enough that he doesn't have to ask to come under my covers. If I didn't want him there I could just as easily kick him out.

I grip Buttercup by his furry underbelly and carry him into the cold morning air. Dew laden grass blades cling to my bare feet as I walk. Buttercup doesn’t growl in response to his rough treatment. He knows that when I bring him to Peeta's, he gets food.

The hallway is warm and smells of baking bread when I open the door. Buttercup lets out an agitated meow as I unceremoniously drop him, letting him pad his way to the kitchen on his own. Peeta looks up as I enter the room. The shadows under his eyes are blue and his skin looks grey against his blonde curls.

"You look terrible," I say.

"Good morning to you too." He continues molding dough. I smile slightly when I see that he's making a batch of the cheese buns I love.

I wrap my arms around my middle, trying to calm the butterflies that have started to appear whenever he’s around. "Your nightmares are getting worse."

"If I could stop them I would." He snaps, agitated. "I know crying isn't what you expect of a bed partner."

"Peeta," There's a hardness in my voice that I mean to soften. The words come out harsher than I want them too. "I'm worried about you."

"I know, Katniss. I'm sorry." He grips the edge of the table with his flour-covered hands. His knuckles spasm under the force. "I'm just tired."

I hesitate and let the moment close. The kitchen is silent except for the soft roar of the oven and Buttercup's purring. He's playing with a piece of string on the floor. Before, this would have been a setting where I wouldn't have dreamed of touching Peeta. But things have changed between us since the games. There's no faking love for cameras that don't exist. It's just me and him in this warm kitchen. I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his chest. I rest my ear against his back so I can hear his heartbeat. It's strong and steady. I'm reminded of when it stopped during our second games and how I almost lost him.

"I want you to move in with me."

He tenses under my arms.

"Are you sure you want that, Katniss?"

"What do you mean?"

He untangles my arms from around his body, getting flour on my sleeves in the process. A dull pang of hurt leadens my limbs. "I've been having more flashbacks. The shiny memories haven't stopped. Sometimes I'm here and I'm baking or I'm painting or I'm just lying down on the couch and then the next moment I've blacked out and broken something or I've hurt myself."

It's true. I awoke one night to find him muttering under his breath and rocking back and forth on the edge of the bed. He had scratched his palms to shreds with his own nails. The only thing that had calmed him down enough for me to clean and bandage his wounds was when I sang him a song. When he finally heard my voice he seemed to be coming out of a trance. But I'm no better.

Almost every night I wake up in a cold sweat, a scream ripping my throat apart. Some days I muster up the strength to go to the woods and hunt or even go into town to trade. Other days I can't get out of bed. Instead, I just stare at the wall blankly and refuse to eat whatever Peeta brings me. I can tell he's worried about me just as much as I'm worried about him.

"You've taken care of me, Peeta. Let me take care of you too."

We hold each other close in the soft glow of the oven.

It doesn't take long for Peeta to move all of his personal belongings into my house. He has a few boxes of clothing that Portia made for him to wear during our victory tour. He has his easel and an assortment of canvases, brushes, and paints. What surprises me is how much baking material he has. I watch him carry heavy sacks of flour, sugar, and salt from his kitchen into mine. The muscles in his arms and back ripple in the sun. He has an assortment of cake decorating tools that I've never had the chance to look through. He smiles as I lift frosting tips and cookie cutters from their organized drawers and set them all up in a line on the counter. He has so many. He places his shoes next to my mud crusted hunting boots by the door. He places his coat next to my father's hunting jacket on a peg in the front hallway. He places his lips on my temple every morning.

I watch him paint. He brushes colors onto those stark white canvases to create breathtaking landscapes. He begins hanging the paintings I’ve said are my favorites around the house. A spring day by the lake. The beaches of District 4. The training center garden we spent a full day in before our second games. I use the animals I kill and the plants I collect to trade for frames in town. He smiles each time I bring one home for him. If he wanted to he could sell his paintings for a profit but he never does. I understand why. Each picture he makes is a memory. Selling them would be wrong.

He paints a portrait of Prim for me. I’m angry when I see it. So blindingly angry that I hit his chest over and over as he wraps himself around me and tries to apologize. When I’ve cried myself out in his arms we hang it in her old bedroom. I don’t go in there very often but when I do I feel her small child’s eyes follow me. Peeta did a good job. It looks just like her.

One day I peek into the old office that has become his studio. He’s crying as he paints a portrait of his father from memory. He has no real pictures of him to use as a reference.

The first night I work up the courage to straddle him and begin taking off my shirt he grips my hands to stop me.

“Katniss, you don’t have to.” He whispers. He looks sad with his eyebrows drawn over his clear blue eyes like I’ve confused him with someone else. I’m too embarrassed to tell him that I want his hot mouth on mine and I want him to want me. I’ve never seriously considered being intimate with anyone before. Not Gale when I was younger and not Peeta when we were thrown into our first games together. Back then, by the river where I pulled him from the mud and the weeds, I had looked away when he took his clothes off. Now I wish he would realize I’ve changed my mind. I want to see him. All of him. And I want him to see me too.

But instead, I quickly pull my shirt back over my bare chest and roll to my side of the bed. He doesn’t touch me again that night and I don’t want him to. My breath quickens and my face burns with embarrassment.

I don’t sleep. I have too many thoughts racing through my head. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the boy with the bread doesn’t love me anymore. He has his reasons. Because of me, he can’t go a day without a tracker jacker venom-induced flashback. Because of me, his family is dead. Burned to a crisp in those firebombs that took his home. He has his reasons but at this moment I hate him for it. I rise and dress to go out to the woods. I can tell by Peeta’s breathing he isn’t asleep either. He probably never was. We don’t look at each other as I finish dressing and leave.

Out in the woods, my head isn’t any clearer. I’m too angry to hunt or check traps so I just fume in a tree. I twirl the stem of a stray leaf between my palms and think about Peeta’s eyelashes. The sun is starting to set when I decide I should head back home.

Haymitch and Peeta sit at the kitchen table. They aren’t talking but when we’re all together we never really do. What is there to say? Instead we usually just sit and enjoy each other’s company. They are all that’s left of my family here in 12. Today, Haymitch has decided to come at least partially sober. Even when tipsy he’s observant.

“I thought you two were starting to get along again,” He raises an eyebrow at our cold greeting. “Moving in together and all.” He munches on a cookie Peeta has made. The beautiful yellow flower collapses under Haymitch’s jaw as he bites into its petals. Soon Haymitch has eaten all the cookies and has downed more than half of whatever spirit is in his bottle. He begins to stagger back home and I slam the front door on him more forcefully than I mean to.

“Katniss?” Peeta’s voice carries from the kitchen. “Can we talk?”

I don’t respond and elect to silently head up the stairs to take a bath instead. I’m acting childish but I don’t care. I’m hurt.

That night Peeta slides into bed next to me. I expect him to stay on his side and avoid touching me again. Instead, I feel him prop himself up on one of his arms as he begins playing with my braid. I yank it out of his fingers.

I want to stop this. To stop being angry but it’s so hard. I’ve come to realize I love him more than I thought I could. I think bitterly that our roles have switched. He loved me when I barely knew who he was. Now I know that he, soft and sweet like the bright dandelion I associate him with, is the one I love and now he won’t even touch me.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you.” He starts. His voice is barely a whisper. His words are low and rough. A shiver travels along my spine and begins pooling between my legs. God, even after last night I still want him. “I’m just afraid that if we are together that you’ll be the one to regret it.”

I am fully unprepared for this. Somehow, this simple confession from Peeta hurts me more than if he didn’t want to be with me. He thinks I would regret being with him. That I’ll regret loving him. A guilty twist runs through my body as I realize I’m not always the nicest person. It comes naturally to Peeta, to be loving. I have to put in an effort. I’m protective, but I’m not as affectionate as he is. Somehow he doesn’t know how deeply I’ve come to care for him. I thought after the games and the war he may have had an inkling of an idea of how deep my feelings run. It’s no longer for the show. Who’s watching us here? I let him kiss me and take care of me and sleep in my bed. But somehow I think he still believes he’s just a place holder for somebody else. But there is no one else, and there hasn’t been for a long time.

I shift so that I’m facing him. He’s still propped up on his arm, cradling his head in his large hand. I look into those blue eyes. The same ones I saw in the cave, on the beach, and in the bunker. The man those eyes belong to has changed, but they themselves have not. They’re just as blue and as beautiful as the day he threw me the burnt bread.

I breathe his name. Our lips are almost touching.

“You’re all I have left,” I whisper back to him. “I could never regret being with you.”

I don’t have to say anything else. This time he lets me straddle him, undo my braid, and take my shirt off. I guide his hands over my bare breasts. It’s a good feeling, to have these painter’s hands on me. He’s gentle and warm. The calluses that have formed on his fingertips from holding brushes and metal cookie cutters glide over me and make me shiver with pleasure. He lifts himself up so I’m sitting in his lap and begins taking his own shirt off. He lets me help and I run my fingers down his solid chest. Our lips meet as he whispers my name. I truly am the girl on fire when Peeta’s inside of me. I feel his hardness between my legs and know that maybe this was always meant to be.

He lays me down and brings his body on top of mine. His lips burn trails along my skin and I feel like I’m evaporating under his touch.

We’re slick with sweat and both breathing heavy when he finishes onto my stomach. I guide one of his warm hands down between my legs and help him rub tight circles into me until I too tense and gasp. It feels like I’ve reached the ocean in Peeta’s painting. It’s waves lap over me again and again and again until I’m exhausted and gasping for air.

When it’s over we hold each other and try to match our breathing. We’re both burning like furnaces and I’m reminded of kissing his hot lips when he was sick with fever. I’m afraid to let him go. The night air outside of the circle of his arms is cold and I want to stay in this moment a little longer.

Suddenly he’s laughing in my ear. It’s one of those clear childlike laughs that I haven’t heard come from him in a long time.

“What?” I lift my head from under his chin to look him in the eyes. I see small tears running down his face. “Was it that good?” I tease.

“I just...I never really thought…” he’s crying more than he’s laughing now. Almost hysterically. I hold him tighter, expecting him to sink into a flashback and start tensing up.

Instead, he asks: “You love me. Real or not real?”

I say: “Real.” And after all this time, I mean it.

#everlark #katniss #peeta #the hunger games #fanfiction #haymitch abernathy #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #real or not real #smut #everlark smut #everlark fluff

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