#and I was like ok I’ll just draw both + other scars. I need to hone my J skills I love her SO much but never draw her D:
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thegreatestheaver · 6 months ago
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quick J practice
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wordsbyrian · 2 years ago
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Worried for Nothing - Adriana Leon x Reader
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Summary: R is worried about scars, your girlfriend Dri is both sympathetic in making you feel comfortable but cocky about the fact that you have nothing to worry about
A/N: I wrote this, but honestly don't know how I feel about it
When you left your house today, this is not the situation you thought you would find yourself in.
You thought that you’d head to work, finish working on a client’s leg sleeve, maybe take a walk-in or two, and then go home.
A simple day by all accounts but you like it when your days are simple; it makes your life effortless when you have multiple simple days in a row.
Unfortunately, with the turn of events you are currently facing, your day just became anything but simple. 
It all started when Evie, the receptionist at the tattoo shop you work in, comes in to tell you that your girlfriend is in the lobby.
“Can you ask her to come back later,” you say, not looking up from the piece you're working on.
“She said, it's really important and that you forgot something when you left this morning,” Evie says, coming back after a moment, “She also said that she can’t give it to me so you need to go talk to her.”
Finally looking up, you see the somewhat aggravated look on her face.
Sighing deeply, you turn off your tattoo machine and give your client instructions to get up and stretch while you're gone.
Making your way into the lobby, you aren’t even remotely surprised to see your girlfriend holding up two short-sleeved shirts, one a Manchester United jersey and the other a plain black tee.
“Seriously Adriana?”
“Yes, seriously,” she says, looking at what you have on. “It’s 35 degrees (Celsius) outside, you’re not about to sit in the sun in that black hoodie.”
“You know I can’t come to the game if I don’t finish the tattoo you’re stopping me from working on?”
“She’s only got about 45 minutes left,” you hear Evie shout from somewhere in the back.
“Shut up Evie,” you shout back before returning your attention to Adriana, “Can’t we do this some other time?”
Adriana just sighs deeply and pulls you into a corner of the lobby.
“I know that you hate having your arms out because you don’t want people to stare at your scars but wear the shirt underneath your hoodie and promise me you’ll be smart if you start to overheat.”
“Dri.”
“No Y/N/N, I’m serious, don’t do something silly like have a heatstroke because you’re nervous,” she says, leaning into you. “Just remember to actually put on the shirt because I know you aren’t wearing one right now.”
One of her hands creeps up the inside of your hoodie, coming to rest in the space between your hips and ribs.
“You can't just try to seduce me into doing what you want me to,” you begin, stopping when she moves her hand a little higher, “Ok, maybe you can. I’ll put on the shirt; just stop trying to get me naked in my place of work.”
Placing a quick kiss on your lips, she pulls her hand away and says, “Thank you, I’ll see you after the game. Remember some of the team is coming to ours afterward.”
She presses the black shirt into your hands and leaves.
When the door shuts behind her and you begin to walk back to your station, you hear Evie’s voice call out from behind the counter.
“Whipped.”
“Fuck off, Evie.”
Later that day, after you’ve finished work, you find yourself sitting in the stands at Leigh with Toone’s boyfriend waiting for the final whistle to blow and end United’s dominant performance against Liverpool. 6-0.
When it does end, you make quick work of gathering your belongings and saying goodbye to Joe and the others you know in the stands while simultaneously sending Dri a text that you’re on your way home to finish off the massive list she left for you.
And it truly was a massive list but luckily, you managed to get some of it done in the time between when you left work and when you had to leave for the game.
This is how you manage to get so relaxed in your art room, locked away drawing a new piece with music blasting, that you actually forget that you have people coming over.
This forgetfulness unfortunately means that you walk out to the living room wearing shorts and a tank top. Stuff no one outside of your family and Dri, who's your family in every way except legally, have seen you in a long time.
“Dri,” you call making your way to the living room, “Have you seen the extra bulbs for my lightbox.” You cut yourself off when you see her standing there with Millie, Ona, and Zelem, immediately crossing your arms over your chest as a way to self-soothe. “Uh, hey.”
“They should be in the hallway closet but,” Adriana answers, “I’m not going to let you hide away drawing, so can you go start the grill please.”
“I can do that if you tell me where the vegan patties are. Those need to go on first.”
“They should be behind the sausages in the fridge,” she says as you begin to slowly back away.
Heading into the kitchen you find the aforementioned patties exactly where she said they would be and you even manage to sneak back to your art room to grab your headphone before heading into the yard.
As you man the grill, you're vaguely aware of the arrivals of more United players and whoever they’ve chosen to bring with them.
Eventually, you’re joined at the grill by Galton and Joe who help you bring the food over to where everyone’s gathered.
For the first bit of the meal, you’re more than content to sit and watch how everyone interacts with one another, it’s easy to see how they scored six goals today.
After some time passes and everyone has eaten their fill, the conversation takes a turn.
“Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room,” Millie asks.
“We’re outside,” you say plainly.
“Not my point,” the defender says rolling her eyes, “I just want to know when Dri was going to tell us that Y/N is built like a brick shithouse under all these oversized hoodies and flannel shirts.”
“Forget that,” Galton interjects, “When were you gonna tell us that she is covered in tattoos?”
You and Adriana share a look and a laugh before speaking simultaneously, “Probably never.”
That gets a smattering of boos in response but it just makes you laugh harder.
“Sorry,” Dri says trying to stop the grin from spreading on her face, “I just want to know when that would've come up in conversation. This is the first time most of you have met Y/N for more than five minutes.”
“That’s just because she rarely comes to the games and when she does she refuses to hang out after,” Ella says with a pout.
“Start playing games on Mondays and Tuesdays and I’ll stop having to go back to work afterward.”
“What do you do that you work nights on the weekend,” Zelem asks.
Galton cuts across again before you have a chance to answer.
“What do you do that allows you to be covered in that many tattoos,” she asks,  “Or do you have to cover them up every day before going in?”
“I”m a tattoo artist, so I only cover them up in public.”
Those seem to be the magic words because suddenly you find yourself drawn into a conversation with Leah, Ona, and surprisingly Joe, which ends up with the four of you inside your art room.
Once you get in there, you’re hit by the sudden realization that you have a huge and very graphic painting in progress.
A painting depicting the car crash that gave you your scars.
Luckily, none of the others seem to take any interest in it and instead immediately focus on the multiple smaller pieces you have scattered around the room.
Ella’s boyfriend seems to take a special interest in the ones that show off characters from your favorite shows, while Ona and Leah spend a lot of time looking at the ones with a ton of crazy shapes.
Hours later when the night is ending and everyone has left your house, you’re confronted by a smirking Adriana as you close the door behind the last person.
“What did I tell you,” she says.
“Are we really doing this right now? I’m tired.”
“We are,” she says, “because you were worried for no reason. No one noticed and Bunney even came back here trying to convince Ella that he needs a room for his nerd stuff like you do.”
“It’s not nerd stuff.”
“Baby, this is actually the part where you admit that I’m always right.”
Rolling your eyes, you lean to kiss her.
“Yes, dear.” A peck. “You were right, dear.” Another. “Like always, dear.” A third.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
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lovelynim · 2 years ago
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TickleTober 2022/Day 2 - Drawn On
Eighty-Six - Theo x Shinen
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Despite taking Theo a stupidly huge amount of effort, he managed to convice Shinen. All the other remaining members of the Spearhead Squadron agreed in letting the blonde practice some bodypainting technique he found while looking for art books, all but one. However, things were just about to change.
Shinen sighed, not exactly distressed, but also not the most excited person with the idea. He knew he should play along and it wouldn’t be bad to do something different, but as Raiden said on other occasions, Shin could be “a little grumpy” sometimes. 
Taking his jacket off, Shinen sat down, with his back turned to Theo, who was already waiting for the brunette. After all, he wouldn’t leave Shinen waiting for a single second because he couldn’t risk letting the boy change his mind.
Just like the rest of the squadron, they both agreed on painting the old Undertaker’s personal mark and, maybe under a symbolic reason, Shin chose his neck to be Theo’s canvas.
“I’m going to start now, ok?” Theo said, pulling the other shirt’s collar down a little to have a little more skin exposed.
“Alright, go on.” He answered, keeping his gaze distant as he let the other do as he pleased.
Theo couldn’t hold back the excited smile on his face. Nodding, he picked up the pencil, making sure it wasn’t too sharp, and decided to first trace some rough drafts and, later on, start making the outline of the mark. 
But things weren't really working as he planned. At the very first line, Shinen fliched, slightly scrunching up his shoulder.
“Sorry, did it hurt?” Theo asked with a pinch of worry.
“Not really.”
“I’ll keep going then, alright?”
“Mhm,” Shin hummed and the blonde couldn’t help to hear as he sighed again, as if trying to relax himself.
Placing his hand on the back of his colleague’s head to stretch, Theo decided to be a little more gentle while tracing over his neck. Maybe his skin was more sensitive around his scar, so he should be careful as he drew on him.
But Theo had barely managed to finish a circle before Shin started trembling. There definitely was something off about it.
“Shin?”
“Y-yes?” He huffed, coughing as he tried to ‘fix’ his voice tone, “is something wrong, Theo?”
“I need to hold still, I can’t finish the draft like this.”
“Sorry, it tickled,” he tried to admit as naturally as possible, maybe trying to not spark the other’s curiosity, but it was unavoidable.
“It what?” Theo gasped, even stopping for a moment.
“I’m not repeating myself,” Shin snapped back, letting out an embarrassed huff.
“Right… Just try to bear with me a little longer, okay? I won’t tell anyone,” Theo giggled quietly before resuming the drawing. 
Shinen closed his eyes shut as he tried to focus on something else, controlling his breath and letting his body as loose as possible. But as soon as Theo resumed, the feeling seemed much other than before.
“P-pfft- Theheheo- mhmph- it tihihickles…” The undertaker giggled, making the blonde slightly blush behind his back.
“”I know, but you are doing well…” Theo replied, trying to hold the other in place as he continued to brush the pencil over his friend’s neck, “I will be done in no time, trust me ~”
Just as predicted, the lines ended up as messed up as they could. Not a single straight line in sight and all the round ends were roughly sharped. Shinen struggled to not giggle during the whole process and they had to stop constantly to let the boy calm down before the blonde would resume drawing on his neck.
Despite the many obstacles in his way, Theo managed to make a nice (and rough) looking mark on the brunette’s neck. 
“Alright, we are done with the draft,” the boy cheered, placing the pencil down.
“Ah, so we are over?” 
“Ahm, not really. That was only the draft. I need to draw the final outline and paint it…” He explained and Shin could feel the pleading-puppy-eyes staring at his neck.
“Alright,” he sighed, biting his lip as he mentally prepared himself, “go on.” 
“Heh, as you say ~” Theo said, not really putting effort in making his tools feel less ticklish on his Shinen’s skin. After all, if he ever asked the blonde about it, he could easily claim it was all about making the artistic process more… enjoyable, for both of them.
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A/N: Second day, let’s go! I always wanted to write something for them and I just have to say thank you for my dear friend @wertzunge​ for the hcs that inspired me to write this ~
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cruciology · 4 years ago
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Under the Table
Requested by anon: Ok i don’t know if this is too smutty but could I request a sandor x reader where they’re at a tavern or something and reader starts touching him under the table. No one notices but he has to stay serious and tries his best to hide it and as soon as they’re both alone she’s getting her reward.
a sequel to my fic, The Princess and the Dog
The chilly air of Winterfell gave you constant goosebumps. You supposed it was better than being on the King’s Road as you had been for a month, but you were still cold, even with the new fur cloak you had been gifted by your father. You had a feeling it meant he had bad news for you, he just hadn’t told you yet.
You wrapped the cloak tighter around your nightdress as you stepped out of your room and into the hall. Your little sister slept like the dead in the room next to yours. It was only your first night in Winterfell, but you had taken notice of where the guards were placed. It was easy enough to avoid them as you sneaked to the end of the hall, passed where Joffrey and Tommen slept, and rapped on the Hound’s door. After a moment, it cracked open just the slightest bit. When he saw it was you, the Hound quickly pulled you in before anyone could see.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growled, shutting the door as quietly as he could. He had been in bed and wore only his pants, his hairy chest bare.
“I didn’t get caught, it’s alright,” you insisted. You were hoping he would be happier to see you. On the road, you were constantly surrounded by guards or your family. Besides a few squeezes of your hand in passing, you hadn’t felt his touch since you left the capitol. Your mother had kept her promise and hadn’t said anything after she had caught you with him in the library, but she kept a closer eye on you now. “I missed you,” you said softly.
His mouth was a hard line as he looked at you. Finally, he placed his hands on your hips, drawing you close to him. You pressed your face into his chest, almost crying at having him close again after all this time.
“It was stupid,” he said as he held you. You laughed.
“Don’t worry, I know you missed me too,” you said. He sat down on the wooden chair that stood by his window, pulling you by the hand until you sat on his lap. The cloak fell to the floor but you were warm enough when he wrapped his arms around you, his rough hands sliding over the silk of your nightdress.
Finally, you were able to press your lips to his. You kissed him gently first, as a lady should, but then you needed to show him just how much you missed him. Heat pooled between your thighs as you threaded your fingers through his hair, kissing him hungrily. He growled low in his throat as he kissed you back. His hand went under the hem of your nightdress, up your thigh, and you gasped softly as his finger entered you. You hadn’t even had enough space in the last month to touch yourself and his touch felt like magic as he stroked you from the inside.
He kissed your cheek, your jaw, then your neck, sending a chill down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. “How does that feel, Princess?” He asked against the shell of your ear.
“So good,” You muttered back, eyes closed.
You felt him start to remove his hand and squeezed your thighs tight in an attempt to keep him going. He laughed slightly as he brought his hand to his face. He licked you off of his fingers, groaning softly and sending another surge of heat through your body.
He kissed you roughly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “You taste so fucking good,” He said against your mouth. He gathered you up in his arms with ease, moving to take you to the bed.
Someone pounded on the door with a heavy hand. In an instant, you were on the bed, the Hound quickly covering you with the thick blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to the Hound open the door once again. It nearly froze when you heard your father’s voice in the hall.
“Didn’t wake you, did I, Clegane?” He laughed. He was drunk, it was clear from his slurred words. The welcome feast ended hours ago. He must have stayed up drinking with his old friends.
“Wasn’t sleeping, Your Grace,” The Hound spoke to your father with your taste still on his lips. “What can I do for you?”
“Put some clothes on, Hound, we’re going on a hunt,” The King said. You could hear him clap the Hound on the shoulder roughly.
“It’s well past midnight, Your Grace,” The Hound informed him.
“What are you, my wife?” Your father said. “I am your king!”
“Why don’t you retire to your chambers, I’ll get you more wine,” The Hound suggested. He knew your father well. He wouldn’t say no to more alcohol.
“Wine and a girl,” The King laughed. Your lip curled in disgust, but if it got him away from the Hound’s room without him seeing you in the bed, you didn’t care what your father did.
“Wine and a girl,” the Hound confirmed.
“Get one for yourself while you’re at it.” You heard your father stumble away. For a brief moment you wondered if you should worry about him, but there were dozens of other guards along the way who would help him back up to his room. He would most likely be asleep before the Hound could find him again.
You felt the blanket fly off of you as soon as the door was closed. “Go back to your room,” The Hound instructed. “Now.”
You stood up, not even coming to his shoulder. You reached up, touching the burnt side of his face, letting your fingers memorize the scar. His eyes closed just briefly. He put his hand over yours. You stood on your toes, kissing him gently before sneaking out again.
---
You never really drank. But after the news you had gotten, you decided now was as good a time as any. Your body wasn’t quite used to it, only having previously had a few sips here and there. As the residents of Winterfell were once again crammed into the dining hall, you nursed your third glass, feeling the warmth spread in your chest. Everyone was pleasantly drunk around you, save for the severe Ned Stark and his lady wife, so you didn’t feel left out despite sitting off on your own at a table near the exit.
You stared at the table where your newly announced betrothed sat. Robb Stark was handsome, strong, and kind. He had lands and a title. You would be the Lady of Winterfell. You had known this was coming, but it didn’t mean you had to like it. Your mother didn’t even try to hide the smug look on her face when your father broke the news to you earlier. You suspected it was directed at your guard who had been in the room as well, something you were sure she had planned. Your mother would get what she wanted after all.
“Princess,” You heard from behind you. Your heart lifted instantly.
“Sit,” You insisted, patting the seat next to you. The Hound’s eyes scanned the room and you rolled yours. “It’s not unheard of. You’re supposed to be guarding me, you can guard me from down here.”
“You’re drunk,” He noted as he sat next to you. You felt the bench creek under his large body. You wished that you were alone so he could pull you into his lap. You were so tired of not even being able to hold his hand.
“I might be,” you said.
“You are.” He grabbed a pint for himself, taking it halfway down with one solid gulp. “Celebrating your engagement, Princess?”
“Stop it,” you said with a tight jaw. “You know I’d rather-,”
“Be quiet about that,” The Hound said, his eyes darting around the room once again. A few eyes were on you, but they were passing glances, folks wondering why the Princess was off alone, but you knew they were not going to question your choice of company.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “But you can’t be upset with me, I can’t take that along with everything else. It’s not my fault.”
The Hound made a noise half way between a grunt and a sigh, but still didn’t look at you. “I know,” he said.
Your hand found his knee comfortingly under the table. It was probably the wine in your stomach that made you unafraid of any consequences. You were surprised he didn’t pull away, but he let you leave your hand there. You were feeling sad and stupid. You moved your hand up further, touching the inside of his thigh. The growl from his throat didn’t stop you. So long without touching him for fear of being caught and here you were now with your hand in his lap when the dining hall was full of eyes.
“Princess,” he said through clenched teeth. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He was trying not to draw attention. Just drunk enough not to care, you moved your hand even further. His breath came out as a hiss as you palmed the growing bulge in his pants. His massive hand clamped around your wrist.
“No one is even looking,” you said, not really caring if they were.
“Are you trying to lose me my head?” He asked. You noticed that he hadn’t moved your hand away from him. You squeezed him, making him groan. “Fucking hells,” he muttered, placing both hands on the table. He wasn’t going to stop you.
You made sure you weren’t looking directly at him as you stroked your hand up and down his length through his pants. You watched his hand on the table clench into a fist as he tried to keep a straight face. “It’s a lovely feast, isn’t it?” You asked, a wicked smirk playing at your lips. He merely grunted. The wine and the thrill of touching him once again made you forget for a moment the pressure you had felt since the news of your engagement.
“But I do think I have had a bit too much to drink,” You said, loudly enough for anyone at the tables near you to hear. Luckily, they were drunker than you. “Walk me back to my room, please.”
The Hound rose first, helping you balance yourself. You really did have a bit too much to drink. He let you go as soon as he thought you would be able to stand. You looked over your shoulder for just a moment, catching a glance at your mother. She sipped her wine next to your father, who was probably the drunkest one in the room. No one would say anything to the King about his drinking. Your mother caught your look but said nothing. She knew who your father would believe if you went to him with what you knew.
The Hound walked a few steps behind you as you walked out of the hall. The voices from the dining hall carried out into the corridor. As soon as you turned the corner, far enough away from the crowd, his hands were on you. You giggled drunkenly as he scooped you up.
“You’re going to get me in trouble, Princess,” he said into your neck, placing a sloppy kiss on the column of your throat. He shouldered the nearest door open. You should have been more worried about getting caught but the only thoughts swimming through the alcohol in your brain were about the Hound’s mouth.
The room was empty and almost pitch black, the only light coming from the full moon outside. The Hound sat you down on the plush loveseat pushed against the wall. You grabbed his belt, attempting to pull him towards you and finish what you had started in the dining hall but it appeared he had other plans. He pushed your hand away.
“Your turn, Princess.”
He lowered himself to his knees in front of you, giving you a breathless kiss, his massive hand cupping your cheek. Leaving your head spinning, he pulled away. He shoved your skirt up, gathering it at your thighs. He pulled you down to the edge of the seat, spreading your legs before him. He placed your legs over his broad shoulders, the metal of his armor cool on your flushed skin. From the wine or from him, you couldn’t be entirely sure.
He bit the inside of your thigh, placing a kiss over it just as quickly. You were just about to tell him not to tease you when you felt his tongue at your apex. Your hands went to his hair, your head going back against the love seat. It had been so long since he could have you like this, he lapped at your pussy hungrily, his fingers digging into your thighs in a way you knew would leave a bruise. That made it even sweeter.
“Sandor, please,” You begged, tugging at his hair, trying to pull him up to kiss you again. You weren’t sure how much time you had with him and you wanted to feel all of him before you had to part. Normally, he would tell you he was going to take his bloody time, but he was probably thinking the same as you.
The Hound wrapped his arm around your waist, moving you to lay with your head on the armrest of the loveseat, his body looming over you. He was always afraid to put his whole weight on you, but you liked feeling his presence. You helped him pull himself out of his pants and with one quick thrust, he was fully seated inside of you. He paused for a moment, his face in the crook of your neck. You guided his face back to yours, kissing him. You wrapped your legs around him, making sure he was as close as he could be to you. He rutted into you, each thrust punctuated with a grunt. He kissed your neck, your cheek, your collarbone, your mouth, any bit of you he could. His thumb found its way to your clit, finishing what his tongue had started. Your legs squeezed him tighter. You tried to stay quiet, but his free hand still went over your mouth, muffling the cry as you came, your legs tight around him.
He took his hand from your mouth, placing it on the loveseat next to you to brace himself. His other hand moved to the small of your back, pushing you closer to him as he fucked you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in to whisper in his ear, “Cum in me.”
The hand on your back moved to your outer thigh, squeezing tight as he shuddered, finishing into you with a final grunt. He hid his face in your neck, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.
“Stupid, that was stupid,” The Hound muttered into your skin.
You pulled his face towards you, making sure his eyes met yours. “I love you,” you said firmly. His eyes darted away again. You had said it only once before to him. He never said it back, it wasn’t his way.
Instead, he kissed you and responded, “Aye.”
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lucky-draws · 2 years ago
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hii I was just wondering if there are any songs you associate with particular mgs characters or ships? any playlists? I need recs for mine!! ty <3
HELLO!!! um OK i don't have any playlists of my own but there are definitely a bunch of songs i associate w mgs ppl/ships... (apologies in advance for a lot of them being by the same band LOL)... erm maybe what i’ll do is i’ll just list them here first without any explanation but then under a read more i will post the same list but with some thoughts/specific reasons why so you can choose whether to listen blind/draw ur own conclusions OR to read my thoughts beforehand etc, i wont talk abt every song tho just a few of them, SO yeah: by Depeche Mode: Judas - ocelot Bottom Line - ocelot Halo, Personal Jesus, Only When I Lose Myself - bosselot In Your Room - bosselot, or any other ship (horny) (lol) Never Let Me Down Again - kaz Walking In My Shoes - big boss Mercy In You - otasune/david pov Black Celebration - otasune Barrel Of A Gun - david, maybe venom snake too Policy Of Truth - sort of kaz and bb but more generally just like. lies. betrayal. etc. just general horny songs by the modes which u could apply to whoever include Rush, Higher Love, World In My Eyes (< that one’s kind of bosselot?) by the Pet Shop Boys: Opportunities (Let’s Make Lots Of Money) - Kaz (lol) Pandemonium - bosselot? Two Divided By Zero - otasune? vaguely... by Kraftwerk Computer Liebe/Computer Love - dr strangelove/strangeboss (lol), also maybe otacon actually (idk if there are any others by them i’d specifically relate to a character BUT. just the general electronic loneliness might bring some vibes to a playlist....i will just list some of my fave kw songs for fun lol: Radioactivity, Radioland, Airwaves, Ohm Sweet Ohm, Neon Lights, Pocket Calculator...) by Duran Duran Is There Something I Should Know? - very vaguely bosselot View To A Kill - a cheesy james bond film song but that makes it snake eater esque and therefore kind of bosselot or mgs3 in general (snake eater itself also definitely works as a bosselot song....get that tree frog in your playlists) by The Jam Thick As Thieves - bbkaz? ok that’s all i got for now rly, apologies that these are all the same kind of uh genre sort of. if u dont like depeche mode or synthpop in general then i guess this was no help at all.......LOL.......really tho depeche mode and metal gear just fit so well together in my opinion it’s a win if ur a fan of both....
so yh anyway hope u manage to fill your playlist!!! have a good day :-) <3
ok errm i wont talk abt every song bc that would be a lot but i’ll do the ones i have the most to say abt/think they need explaining/can actually articulate something abt:
Depeche Mode:
- Judas - ocelot and his devotion to bb. religious suffering. martyrdom. all the shit ocelot does for big boss. yeah.
- Bottom Line - kind of ocelot also, his devotion to bb again but specifically like. idk 'the apple falls, destiny calls, i follow you' was the line that made me go (!) bc i saw a post on here where someone i think it was a user called captmelbourne mentioned the whole. ocelot born from a snake shaped scar thing. 'destiny and shit' was the words they used i believe and like! fucking. exactly that... idk. ocelot and bb being so weirdly horribly intertwined bc of the boss is what makes me go insane every time
- Never Let Me Down Again - i sort of relate this to bbkaz like from kaz' pov...the 'he' the song talks abt being bb...'im taking a ride w my best friend. i hope he never lets me down again. promises me im safe as houses (as long as i remember who's wearing the trousers.)'..... just the whole kaz caught up in euphoria of being w bb except we know and maybe he himself knows that it will not end well. bb's power/control over and eventual betrayal of kaz etc. u know?
Pet Shop Boys: - Pandemonium - maybe the type of music itself doesnt feel that bosselot-ty but the lyrics sort of are, from bb’s pov marvelling at ocelot’s general lunacy, ‘in major trouble since u were almost a minor’...’sometimes i think we’ll both explode’...just their crazy dynamic basicly - Two Divided By Zero - you could see this as like philanthropy otasune, always on the run kind of thing....? idk its just a song that i like LOL ...half of these are like my fave songs anyway that i also happen to go (!) what if i forced this to be related to mg somehow LOL
Kraftwerk - Computer Love - just makes me think of strangelove + the ai pod, loneliness, literally ‘computer love’ in terms of building the ai as a replacement boss kind of thing.....and also maybe more generally otacon? makes me think of him pre-meeting snake, his lonely nerd era etc Duran Duran - Is There Something I Should Know? - only vaguely bosselot but i class it in similar vibes to snake eater ish, just the cheesiness, ‘don’t say ur easy on me, you’re about as easy as a nuclear war’ is very metal gear i think LOL, just in general mgs3 bosselot meeting, same w View To A Kill The Jam - Thick As Thieves - just vaguely bbkaz, ‘like a perfect stranger you came into my life, like a perfect lone ranger you rode away..’ just friendships falling apart etc...more childhood friends in the song than uh whatever bbkaz are but ya know, just vibes
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slutfor-fictionalmen · 4 years ago
Text
Perfect
Levi ackerman x plus size reader 
based off of this post; y/n and levi get into a fight
You stretch in your shared bed groaning as you move your sleep-sore muscles and look over at the statuesque man besides you. You sigh as you remember the argument you had the night before and sit up, throwing one of the mans larger shirts over your soft body and stepping into some lounging pants.
“I don’t care if i die! at least i do it doing something useful like actually KILLING the fucking things, not just standing around barking orders, like SOME Bitch i hapen to live with!” His words echo through your mind, causing you to stare out into the distance while you prepare your morning coffee. You remember you only stared at him, your heart hurt, you knew he had just faced many titans and made it out barely alive, the stress was overwhelming on him. Little did you know, he was in pain, he thought about giving up, letting them take him but he fought for you. And then he came home and hurt you. 
Levi laid on his side, staring at where your plush form once was on your bed. He watched you walk to the kitchen, his mind begging him to say something, anything, only to let his body win and pretend to be asleep. You were quiet that morning, he could see your stoic features, you didn’t give him your usual forehead kiss or greet him by asking how he would want his coffee. He knew what he said hurt, and he hated himself for saying it.
“I’m sorry i’m not what you wanted.” He wanted to argue with your response, tell you that he didn’t mean it like that, but he let you walk away, he fed into you both sleeping back to back. He fed into you both drifting to what felt like thousands of miles away. 
Levi’s thoughts were interrupted as he heard a crash and a very audible ‘Shit!” come from you. You look up and see levi enter the kitchen and look back down at the mug that’s in shatters and the blood on your palm. You decide to ignore him standing in front of you as you careful put the large shards in your uncut hand and let him sweep up the smaller ones.
“Are you ok?” He’s faced with cold silence as a response when you look him in the eye and turn away, trying your best to leave any room that he’s in. Tears fill your eyes as you look for the first aid kit, both the seriousness of the situation and the pain of the cut bring a sting to your eyes. Unable to find the bandages you eventually break down, sitting on the bathroom floor and letting the tears flow. Levi slowly walks in careful not to upset you anymore.
Your disoriented mind yells, “Where the FUCK are our FUCKING BANDAGES.” At him instead of what you really wanted to say. With tears in your eyes you watch him grab the first aid kit and cautiously grab your injured hand, and tend to it. Levi’s heart hurts as he watches you break down, he debates comforting you before deciding ‘fuck it’ and holding your plush form close. Your struggle against his arms was short lived when he pulled you into his chest, letting you cry it out before having a conversation.
“I- i just dont want to lose you, i can’t lose you, i’ve lost too many people i loved and i CHOSE you to love, do you know how much that hurts? To choose someone and have them not care if they die? Even almost losing you hurt, it hurt so fucking much, i can’t do that again. Yo-You can’t be so reckless levi..” Your eyes look panicked as you replay in your mind, watching him run straight into a cluster of titans with not a single regard for his own safety. 
Your body ached, levi guided you to your bed, giving you some aspirin and a glass of water. He sat next to you and kissed your hand, from fingertips to wrist, spewing admiration for you. “I’ll be more careful, i promise.” You pulled your hand away from his and moved it to his face, giving him a lopsided smile when he rested his hand on top of yours and turned his head to kiss your palm. His need for touch reminded you of your shared days as a cadet, dealing with the judgemental boys and the bed-ready girls. Levi was the only person you ever felt like you could talk to, his presence calming you from the trying times those three years brought you.
Levi was the only person to truly be intimate with you, of course you’ve had other partners, but none of them loved you as much as he did. Your thoughts were suddenly brought back to your first time with the boy, how a sparring match suddenly became much more lustful than both of you accounted for.
“Remember our first time?” Levi’s head perked up, processing the information suddenly given to him. His flush died down as he chuckled and met your eyes. “If course i do, why are you thinking about that right now though?” 
You lean forward and peck his lips, pulling away before he can react.”I just wanted you to think about the first time you fucked me so hard i couldn’t think.” A furious blush rises to his face as he looks at your smug smile. Shaking his head he goes along with the changing atmosphere, moving to get on his hands and knees, crawling a short distance towards you with a lustful look in his eyes.
You shiver as you look him in his eyes, relishing in this feeling, wishing he was always this attentive to your needs and feelings. You quickly dismiss the thought, giving your full attention to the man kissing all over your face, drawing out the process of kissing your forehead, cheeks, and nose, finally meeting your long awaiting lips.
 You feel electricity as Levi kisses you with love that quickly turns to unbridled passion, his slender hands feeling your plush body, making sure that no part of your body isn’t mapped in his mind. Levi pulls away and sits up, pulling his shirt off his thin body and signaling for you to shed your clothes as well. Doubt briefly fills your mind before you take your shirt and pants off despite it. Levi can only stare at your body, amazed at your curves, stretch marks, and scars. He adores your body, he adores how soft you are and how only he gets to see you in your most vulnerable state. 
His hands wander your body vigorously while your own hands move to the hair at the nape of his neck. Levi’s lips attach themselves to your neck as he gently cups your breasts, his thumbs rubbing your nipples over the fabric of your bra while he nips at the pressure point of your neck. You let out a small moan before he parts your legs with his knee and places himself between your thighs.
You reach behind yourself and unsnap your bra, hearing a groan erupt from his lips before he marks your chest up with lovebites, leaving you squirming under his touch. His mouth moves down, kissing down your navel to  reach the top of your panties. Levi squeezes the soft expanse of your stomach while he pulls your underwear off of your body. His calloused hands holding your soft thighs down while he begins to lick your folds. You buck your hips, attempting to grind down onto his tongue, but his grip prevents you from moving with ease. He teases your clit with his fingers before he inserts one into your wet cavern. “Oh fuck- levi, please, i need more.” He smirks and obliges, stretching you out with two fingers, thrusting and shucking at your plump clit. 
He feels you squeeze around him, knowing that familiar tight band like pull in your stomach was about to break, he pulls out, preparing himself to fill you up. He pulls off his pants and underwear in one go, letting his penis hit his stomach. Mind flooded with lust, you dont have time to admire his body fully, you just impatient waited for him to fill the growing ache, that was longing to be filled inside you. His dick twitched as he took in the sight before him, his beautiful y/n sprailed out in front out him, ready for him to take you.
“Are you ready beautiful?” You simply nod and moan as he suddenly enters you, pushing him to quickly develop a rhythm. You grip at the sheets while he pounds into you, the sounds of skin against skin echoing in the room, the thick smell of sex fuling levi to go on, having you a whining mess underneath him. 
He lifts your legs up, moving you to fuck you at a deeper angle. Your moans increase as he continues to thrust into you, causing friction against your clit. You feel the familiar band in your stomach begin to wind up once again, you know your climax is about to come and you could feel levi lose his rhythm you knew he was about to finish too.
“Levi, i’m so close, baby, please.” His larger frame works at your soft body, unraveling the tight band in your stomach. You cum on his dick before he pulls out and releases his load on your soft stomach. You both relish in the afterglow before levi pulls you both out of your serene state with a single sentence.
“I was a dick, i wasn’t thinking, i’m sorry. You’re perfect and i didn’t mean anything i said….. I promise ill be more careful.”
“I love you levi, don’t pull that shit again, ok?”
“I love you too brat.”
No you guys weren’t perfect, but at least this is a start.
Sorry it’s so bad!!!! this was just a brain farttt
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h0rnyshakespeare · 3 years ago
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could you do a fantasy au with bakugou as a kitsune? you’ve just recently moved into a cottage in the woods to get away from your previous life, when you stubble across baku in a trap surrounded by hunters! you of course aren’t going to let some assholes hurt an innocent creature, so you devise a plan to get him free. you draw the hunter’s attention away from the caged baku, causing them to run off. you then get to baku, and are able to free him. though a slight problem, the hunters are coming back, and they see you messing with their ‘find.’ while you’re frozen in place, baku literally picks you up, and jumps into the trees, evading gunshots. he keeps you there until the hunters go away.
after all this drama, you start hanging out with the kitsune more and more. you two get closer as time goes on, and bakugou becomes more and more infatuated and protective of you. he’s touchier, softer, and overall more gentle with you. he even lets you touch his ears and tail. everything is all well and good when oh no, the hunters are back, and they’re out for revenge. while you’re at the cottage, they ransack your home, chasing you out into the woods. you’re sprinting, calling for bakugou as the hunters are gaining. just then, none other than the fox himself jumps in and beats the absolute shit outta the hunters. he then turns to you, worry as well as rage in his eyes. he sees they’ve hurt you, and that’s the final nail in the coffin for what he’s about to do. “Stay with me.” he pleads. “you don’t have a safe home anymore, and even if you did, i can’t promise your safety. i NEED you to be safe, okay. stay with me as my mate. i’ll hunt for you. i’ll protect you. anything, and you’ve got it.” you’re stunned. eyes wide, you ask him why. why does he care so much? nobody else ever did, so why does he, as powerful and as beautiful as he is. the answer isn’t as hard as you would think “it’s because i fucking love you...”
OKAY this is definitely long and more of a vent than anything but i think it’s so cute! just imagine cuddling with him as soft and as cute as he would be, hanging over you like a jungle cat. very nice, very nice indeed
kitsune!Bakugou x gn!reader (I couldn't think of a title, sorry)
Genre: Fantasy
Warnings: Swearing caz Bakugou, brief mentions of gunshots (that’s it I think?? But if there’s anything I missed please let me know)
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: Tysm for requesting, this was such a cute idea! I’m sorry this took some time, exams are coming so my writing’s a little slow haha. I wrote this to be gn!reader but if anywhere implies otherwise please let me know :) And to everyone else who requested, I’m working on them!
Y/N: Your name
L/N: Last name
You had recently moved into a little cottage in the woods, not too far away from the main city, but enough to be away from the busy, commercial life you once lived. Others might disagree, but you felt more at peace among nature, like you were truly satisfied. You had never enjoyed living among many people, so you were excited to start your new life, out here in the woods. As you walked back to your cottage after taking a walk to familiarize yourself with your new surroundings, you heard a few voices up ahead. You groaned, not wanting to socialize with anyone, but before you could turn to take a different route to avoid whoever was there, you overheard one of the voices say, “We’re gonna get a fine amount of money for this creature’s fur, ya hear me? So make sure the trap is secure.” A couple of other voices mumbled in agreement. You frowned. Although you could not really make out what animal they had caught, you did know that whatever they were doing, it sounded illegal. You sighed. You did not want to confront anyone, but you made your way towards the voices. You saw three men surrounding a cage, holding… guns? “What have I gotten myself into?” you internally groaned, but it was too late to turn back now. “Um, excuse me?” you called out hesitantly. They turned at the sound of your voice, looking displeased. You smiled nervously. “Hi, um, it’s actually illegal to hunt in this area…” you trailed off, seeing their annoyance. “How would you know, you little punk? Go braid daisy crowns or whatever you do in this dump,” one of them sneered at you. You were slowly growing irritated, but you kept the smile on your face, determining to help whatever animal they had imprisoned. “Ok, well, I was going to let you know that if you walk a few miles from here, there is a hunting area. You guys aren’t the first hunters I’ve seen around here,” you lied through your teeth, trying to distract them to give you enough time to release the trapped creature. “If you check it out, I’ll forget I even saw you guys here, and no one will know that y’all were hunting illegally, ok? Plus, I’ve seen a lot of finer animals in that area.” “Maybe we should listen to her, boss,” one of the hunters said to the one who had spoken to you first. “I mean, it is just a fox, and if we’re caught…” he whispered the rest of his sentence to their leader, who in turn frowned. “Fuck, whatever. How far is the hunting area, kid?” he asked, the question directed to you. “Oh, um, about… 10 miles from here? In that direction,” you said, pointing. “You better not be lying to us,” the hunter glared at you, making you gulp. You tried to act nonchalant until they were out of sight, then immediately rushed to the trap. You gasped when you saw a beautiful fox with… tan, almost golden fur. You had never even heard of foxes that colour. The hunters were idiotic to listen to you and leave this amazing creature, but you were glad they did. The fox made a low, growling noise, snapping you out of your trance. “Ah, right, I’m sorry, I’ll let you out now, don’t worry,” you said, suddenly feeling stupid that you were conversing with an animal. You quickly set your attention onto setting it free. The trap looked complicated to deactivate, but you realized it was actually quite simple, and you managed to free the fox in no time. “There you go,” you smiled, “You’re free now.” Surprisingly, the fox lingered, studying you with beautiful carmine eyes. First tan fur, now red eyes? “You’re like something outta a fairy tale, huh? So pretty,” you said softly, gazing at it at wonder, when you heard distant voices shouting.
Crap. The hunters.
“You really thought you could fool us! There were no animals in that area!” “Ahaha fuck, I’m in trouble,” you murmured, thinking of a way to escape, when you remembered the fox was still here! “Hey uh, you really should get outta here-” you said, turning to find not a fox, but a man with fox ears and a- no wait, nine tails. Your eyes widened, freezing as you tried to process what just happened.
“Oi, dumbass, if you’re not gonna run they’re gonna get you, you know.”
“I- uhhh… well this is a weird dream,” you chuckled nervously. “Tch, idiot,” was all he said before picking you up bridal-style and running faster than the hunters could catch up. You felt something whizz past your ear. “HOLY FU- THEY’RE SHOOTING AT US!” you yelled, grabbing at the man’s collar. “Thanks for stating the obvious, dumbass!” he yelled back. “Now would you shut up so I can focus on not dying?” You quickly turned silent after that statement. Without warning the… man? fox? man fox?? suddenly took a huge leap into the trees, landing on a branch that somehow held his weight. You yelped, then quickly covered your mouth in order to keep quiet as you saw the hunters running past from underneath. “They’re gone now,” you heard the man speak as he set you down on the branch. The tree you both were on was sturdy, giving you a secure foothold. You turned to face him. “Uh, thanks for saving me back there, but I’m pretty sure you were a fox when I first saw you…?” “Tch. Humans really have gotten dumber over the past few years haven’t they. I’m a kitsune. Ya know what that is?” Your eyes widened. “A-a kitsune as in the ones in the fairy tales? The foxes who can shapeshift to humans, and have many tails…” you trailed off, feeling stupid that you had not noticed earlier. The kitsune smirked in response. “Yeah, and I have nine, meaning I’m the most powerful. You’re lucky I was there to save you.” “You saved me? Who was trapped in a cage, huh? If anything, you should be thanking me,” you huffed, annoyed. Who did he think he was? He said nothing, simply gazing at you with interest written all over the flaming pools of scarlet that were his eyes. You tried not to feel intimidated by them, not knowing what powers this creature possessed. You could not deny that he was beautiful as a human, alluring even, with blonde hair similar to his fox fur, and his body looked as if it were sculpted by gods. You gulped, forcing yourself to stop staring at all the scars scattering his bare chest. He smirked as if he knew exactly what you were thinking of, causing your face to heat up. “Where do you live, dumbass? I’m sure you can’t climb down trees.” You rolled your eyes, embarrassed that he was right. “Not far from here, I’ll manage.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” was all he said before he lifted you in his arms again, leaping to the ground and taking you home in no time. “I didn’t even give you directions,” you said, confused. He sighed. “I could smell your scent from here. Why do you live in the middle of the forest?” “Caz I want to??” you said. “That’s weird,” he responded. “Don’t you live here too though?” you retorted. You saw a smirk flicker briefly on his face before being replaced again with his bored expression. “I’ll see you around then, dumbass.” He said, turning to leave. “Wait!” you called out, immediately regretting it. Why’d I do that? But there was no time to question your actions as he looked at you, eyebrow raised. “Uh, I-I just wanted to know your name,” you said a little breathlessly. “Katsuki Bakugou,” he said, never breaking eye contact. “Bakugou, huh? Well, I’m Y/N L/N,” you replied. Bakugou shrugged. “I’ll be leaving then dumbass.” You huffed. “I literally just told you my name!” “And?” was all he said, before vanishing through the foliage of trees. You exhaled slowly, feeling a little disoriented. You had so many questions but decided not to think too much of the day’s events, instead opting for relaxing in your new home.
The next day, you decided to just hang out at home, yet you could not get the kitsune out of your mind, making you frustrated. “Ah, fuck it,” you mumbled, before heading out. You were not sure where you were going, but you walked in the same direction you did yesterday. “What are you doing this you idiot? What if the hunters find you again?” you thought, yet your body did not listen, continuing to walk in the same path. You did not run into anyone on the way. Unfortunately, that included Bakugou. You decided to just sit down under a tree and read the book you had brought with you. You had been peacefully reading for a while, the sounds of the forest soothing to you ears.
“Well fancy seeing you here.” You whipped your head at the sound of his voice. You saw the fox with tan fur you rescued yesterday. “Bakugou?” He transformed into his human form, grinning as he did so. “So, what’re you doing here, dumbass? Missed me?” You rolled your eyes. “You wish. I came here to relax for a bit.” “Whatever you say, dumbass. What’re you reading?” You showed him your book, causing him to snort. “What?” you asked, slightly irritated. What was his deal? “Your taste is so bland, I’m not surprised.” “Fuck off,” you responded. “As if you’ve ever even touched a book before.” “I have,” Bakugou said, raising his eyebrows. “Didn’t peg you as the type to read,” you said, getting back to your book. “Is that all modern-day kitsunes do these days?” Bakugou shrugged. “I’ve never met any others here.” You looked back at him, surprised. “So… you’re alone?” “Tch. I just prefer to be by myself.” You nodded. “Me too.” “Pfft, you? You look like someone who would love being around people, with how much you talk and all.” You glared at him. “And this is exactly why I like being on my own.” He raised his arms. “I guess I’ll leave then. Since you seem to really hate company, right dumbass?” “My name is not dumbass, it’s Y/N. Why’re you so rude?” you hissed. You were met with silence when you realized he had left. You could not believe you actually came out all this way just to talk to him, only for him to randomly leave mid-conversation. You huffed, shifting your position to get more comfortable. “I’m still here you know.” You jumped, hearing his voice from above you. “What the hell?” He snorted in amusement. “You really think you could get rid of me that easily, dumbass?” You rolled your eyes, but inside you felt secretly happy that he had stayed, and you hated it. “You’re so annoying,” you retorted, turning a page in your book, yet somehow not really seeing the words. It was quiet for a while, before Bakugou jumped back down to the ground, sitting next to you. “Read that for me,” he said in a tone unlike his usual one. “What?” “You seem to like this trash so much, so read it,” he said, making himself comfortable. You sighed. “Fine.”
And so began the afternoons you would spend with him. Every day, you would meet him under the same tree and read. Sometimes he would fall asleep next to you, exposing a more soft and vulnerable side of him, contrasting to his normally brash and rough personality. It was pretty sweet, and over time, your feelings for him only grew. You were not sure, but you felt that he too had become softer and gentler around you as time went on. He even let you pet his ears, blushing whenever you did so, trying to hide his flusteredness behind his colourful words. He even went as far as falling asleep on your lap in wolf-form, making you happy he could trust you with the more vulnerable side of him.
You were at home, about to leave to meet Bakugou, when you heard some commotion outside. You were about to check when you heard the door break open. “Find them!” you heard a loud voice say. Your blood ran cold. The hunters? Why were they so set on revenge? You heard something break as they stormed through your house. Before you could grab something to defend yourself, one of them burst into your room, causing you to freeze. “There you fucking are,” he said moving towards you, blocking the exit. Thinking fast, you opened the window next to you and jumped out. Thankfully, it was close to the ground, so you easily picked yourself up and you ran, not daring to look back, but you heard them shouting and running after you. You sprinted down the familiar path, calling for Bakugou as you did. “Goddammit, where are you Bakugou?” you yelled as the hunters gained on you, when-
“The HELL you fuckers think you’re doing, HAH?”
You had never felt so relieved to hear his voice. “Bakugou!” “Stay behind me,” was all he said before going absolutely feral. He beat them up in no time, then watched as they ran away in terror. When he made sure they were gone, he turned to you, anger dissipating, his eyes filled with worry. “You ok?” You nodded weakly, then raised your arm, showing him the wound you had gotten when one of the hunters had shot at you. “It’s not bad, don’t worry. The bullet didn’t hit me, just grazed my skin.” “Shit,” Bakugou cursed as he took your arm in his hand, examining it. “That’s definitely more than a fucking graze.” “It’ll heal, I’m good at first aid,” you said. Bakugou looked at you, incredulous. “Dumbass, this needs more than first aid, are you really that stupid? Don’t move,” he said as his hands began to glow. He positioned them above your wound, using his power to heal you. “Thanks, Bakugou,” you said when he was done. “Really, I appreciate everything.” “Katsuki,” he said, not looking at you. “Huh?” you said, confused. “Call me Katsuki, dumbass.” A playful smile made its way on your lips. “Sure, when you call me Y/N.” He chuckled, then looked at you with a serious gaze. “I want you to stay with me.” You looked at him, dumbfounded. “W-What? What do you mean?” “Your home isn’t safe anymore. Those hunters could come back anytime, I went easy on them. I need you to be safe, Y/N, I-” he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “What would’ve happened to you if I wasn’t there? Just… please, become my mate Y/N. I’ll do anything for you, I’ll hunt for you, protect you, anything you want.” You were stunned, trying to process what he had just asked. “Y-You want me to be your… your mate? Why? And why would someone like you care so much about someone like me when no one really ever has?” He blushed, looking away to glare at the grass. “Fuck, I don’t know, maybe it’s caz I fucking love you, dumbass.”
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withoneheadlight · 3 years ago
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I’m s o r r y but I made myself sad over this one so naturally I’m here to share the pain
Okay so I was thinking about the alternate timelines//realities thing and what if there’s a universe where Billy dies, and a universe where Steve dies,, and somehow they meet ~maybe in the Upside Down???~ and Steve is like 🥺 b i l l y,,, but Billy can’t deal with it??? Like, “you’re A Steve, but you’re not MY Steve”
| quick heads up!: mentions of death and mourning ahead |
.
Ahhhhhh, Kelly!. Bring the pain, bring the pain, we’ll deal with it together, cry together, blow our noses together! 😢😢
i’ve been having my mind full of that alt timelines/realities idea these last few days, and that’s surely the reason why that’s what I saw in your beautiful 3-sentence fic, both because a post i saw about one of the boys dying (i can’t find it now. please human who posted it, tell me if it was yours!) and bc of this marvel @edith-moonshadow (<3) wrote in one of my posts. and then you sent me this ask and wrote that fantastic piece and-- IT'S ALL BEEN VERY COSMIC AND PLANETARY ALINGTMENLY and i didn’t want to make myself sadder or make you sadder but,
,
I can imagine how it’d go. Both of them trapped on the upside-down. Both of them bleeding out. Sliced down as they are, right through the middle. Half a Billy and half a Steve, the wound still fresh with the part they’re missing and I imagine they could barely stand it, right at the beginning, the mere sight of that other that’s not― That’ just not. What was once love rotting into hate, into feeling trapped, doomed, to live in this cage with the constant reminder of their loss.
And Billy’d miss the way Steve used to roll his eyes at him, and the way Steve used to sigh all dramatic like ‘God, Billy Hargrove, you’re too much for me I swear’ but would then wink and pull him close and steal a kiss, voice falling low to smile a ‘Definitely way more than I deserve’ into his mouth. Would miss the way Steve used to brush his hair to the side, bite at the curve of his neck, and words, they always sounded better when Steve traced them against the shell of his ear ‘Tell me I’m your pretty boy’ he’d say and Billy would tell him, would try to catch his lips but ‘Ah-ah’ and Steve’d shake his head, brush their lips together ‘First babe, you gotta tell me how much I love you’, holding him tight and not letting him go ‘till Billy would get over the way his cheeks were blushing, and tell him. But―
This Steve. This Steve doesn’t love this Billy. Doesn’t love Billy. This Steve gets mad and yells at him when Billy’s been ‘Too fucking much, I swear! You’re too fucking much’ and it hurts, when he puts his hands on his hips and looks exactly like his Steve. And it hurts even worse, when he sets his jaw and looks wrong and like somebody else completely (And it hurts even worseworseworse, when he finally says it, what they both think. When he opens up those pretty lips Billy used to kiss, to love, those pretty lips that used to say ‘I love you’: “Of all the monsters in here, you’re the only one that gives me nightmares”).
This Steve never calls him by his name. This Steve doesn’t look him in the eye. This Steve hates him.
And weeks pass, and months pass, and they repel each other, can't stand each other but ―they can’t, either, even if none of them ever says it, bear the idea of splitting apart. And Steve’s house is not Steve’s house, but it makes do, with its walls re-painted in horrors and damp seeping through the floral wallpaper of the hallway his mama used to be so proud of. And there’s mold growing in the mattress and invisible night-terrors that bite living in the blankets and it gets cold at night. Cold and lonely and hopeless. And Steve doesn't want to and Billy doesn't want to but. They sleep together. Back to back. Touch only where they have to touch. Not to freeze (not to feel. Except they― ). Wake up together (like they used to). Steve's face buried in Billy's curls and the smell, the smell is the same. Exactly, perfectly, dishearteningly. The same. Right there, all along the tenderness at the curve of Billy’s (this. Not his. Thisthisthis. Never his) neck.
And weeks pass, and months pass, and it hurts. Every minute, every second and every tiny, tiny particle of time. Because this Billy is not Billy and Steve―
Steve’s missing a half. Steve’s an open wound and it doesn't matter how much alike they are, how much they feel (exactly, perfectly, dishearteningly) the same under Steve’s touch, because this Billy is another Steve's and he doesn't fit, and he wouldn’t ever heal, against his skin but― his blue eyes are the same and those curls of his look like they’ve forever captured the sun in the same way and his scars are gone but when the creatures hurt him and draw new ones Steve recognizes under his fingertips the familiar shapes of his back, the way Billy bleeds, the way his skin feels warmth against his palms and,
Billy.
Billy recognizes the way Steve touches him, the way he groans a "Be quiet for frikin’ once. And hold still!" but then, lower, softer, a whisper “Shhh. C’mon. Shhh. Just a second, alright? I promise I’ll be careful” and Billy does and bites down his tongue and the pain and the tears as Steve stitches the wound and Billy wants to ask him to sew his whole body, too, all along that wide wide line where it used to fit that half he’s missing, but what he says is "Would you kiss me once? Just once? So I can feel like I still have him?".
And it's the same. And it's different. And it's not Steve. But it is. Steve. And they kiss and Steve’s crying, because is thesamethesamethesame, the way Billy’s lashes are falling and Billy wants to say ‘I love you’, but he doesn't, and it becomes a lump in his throat as they kiss and kiss and kiss for hours, on that bed they’ve been sharing, that bed they’ve only been touching for survival, and when they're done, Billy wants to ask Steve to sew his lips together too. So he can’t ask him again. So he can not want to but― the nights are cold and lonely and hopeless. So they touch. And they kiss. And weeks pass. And they touch and they kiss and they fuck. And months pass. And they kiss and touch and fuck and fight. And they need each other. Want each other. Hate each other. Hate themselves. And then Steve says "I'll never love you. I'll never love you like I loved him" and Billy says "Neither I will”. And they’re both are bleeding. Been bleeding for so long. Bleeding out. And they won’t heal, a Billy-less and a Steve-less, as they are. So it spreads. The rot. And it's even worse like this, hating what there’s left of themselves. Because they don’t fit but it feels like they do, when they touch and they kiss and they fuck. When they fight.
(When it feels like love but― isn’t).
(Can’t be)
And weeks pass and months pass and neither of them says it (‘Wanna touch you again, kiss you again, fuck you again’), even though they're both thinking it and it’s been almost two and a half years. Five hundred days. Five hundred nights. Of hiding from each other, of finding each other in this endless night, when the dormant creatures start to crawl out of their nests, when the darkness is filled again with growls and howls and screeches. With danger. Vines coming back to life after their hundred years of sleep and then something’s coming something’s coming something’s coming and,
“Take all you can”
“Get the bat!”
“Run, Billy run!”
“Block the door! Block the door!”
“The head! Steve! Slam ‘m on the head!”
“Come on, come on, come on! Let’s get the shit outta here”
and then,
“The gate. Somebody must be opening the gate”
They find it.
Seven feet. That’s how far it is. That's how close they are from making it. And must be some kind of cosmic joke, so Billy laughs at it. Gives that one to the universe. Chokes on his own blood.
Steve’s blurred, less and less clear every time he blinks. Still the most beautiful thing Billy’s ever seen.
“C’mon, pretty boy” he says. Squeezes Steve's hand tighter. Just one second. It’s the end of the end of the world and Billy feels like he’s spent a whole lifetime like this. Stealing Steve Harrington in seconds. So he can steal one more. That’s always been the deal. Just a little more, a little more, since the moment he saw him “You know you hafta go”
Salt. Tears. That detail, Billy always forgets: they taste exactly like the ocean.
“Nah. I’m thinking that― they won't split us apart. Not this time”
Tears. Salt. The ocean on Steve’s lips. Taste like coming back. Coming Back home. But,
“It’s ok, pretty boy. I’m not him”
Steve shrugs. Smiles. Dots on the curve of his cheek. Eyes like the first day of fall. It’s in the curve of his lips, where Billy’s history has always been rewritten.
“But there was a me, that loved you. And there was a you, that loved me. And I guess it’s just impossible. Not to do it again so―” and words, they always sound better when Steve traces them against the shell of his ear, says,
“Can you kiss me? So I can know how it is to have you?”
And it’s the end of the end of the world.
(But,
Time Swirls. Space wraps around itself. Reality flickers. So maybe― maybe it really is. The end. But. Maybe,
There's a house. Steve’s house. And is not the same. But it’s not different, either. And there’s daylight pouring down the hallways, burning bright against that soft-gold wallpaper his mama’s always been so proud of. And the mattress is soft and warm and feels familiar. And the blankets smell like softener and old memories. Like new memories. Like us. Us.
“Tell me how much you love me”
Steve brushes Billy’s hair to the side, runs his lips all along the curve of his neck, leaves a kiss behind his ear. And it’s the same, but it’s different and Billy know it’s always, always gonna hurt. Because they’re still a Billy-less and a Steve-less but. They’re always gonna be a Billy one Steve loved, a Steve one Billy loved. They’re this Billy and this Steve.
But there’s this one thing, that’s always gonna be the same. This one thing neither of them would ever do in halves.
“I love you with all my heart,” he says, and draws Steve closer, closer, ‘till there’s barely any space left between them.
And they allow themselves to feel, where their wounds touch.
Allow themselves to love.)
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ask-the-germanic-family · 3 years ago
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hii do you have any pruk or aushun headcanons? i love your writing so muchh everytime i see you on my board i feel so happy thank youu
Part 1: Aushun headcannons?
Hungary has a small tatoo of a piano inside a heart on her left thigh, she got it on a night out of drinking with Prussia when he dared her to get a tatoo. She obviously couldn't let herself lose to Prussia and went through with it. After Hungary sobered up she still loved it but was worried about Austria's reaction, after all he can be quite old fashioned at times. But she had nothing to worry about Austria was touched that Hungary would put a permanent reminder of him on her body. He was so touched that for their anniversary he got a matching one with flowers from Lake Balaton (the same as she wears in her hair) inside a heart. The only person to know about these tattoos is Kugelmugel, who when he first found out about them started drawing matching ones on himself with a marker pen.
Austria hates having his picture taken because of this Hungary's one of only three people trusted to take pictures of Austria.
Austria was the only one to believe Hungary 100% when she told everyone she had spoken to god. Hes thoughts were "well why wouldn't god want to talk to Hungary, have you seen her? She's perfect."
Austria doesn't understand Hungary's friendship with Poland but still supports it.
Austria's never liked battlefields, they're dirty and loud, the smell of blood covers everything and the haunted looks in dying men's eyes are something he can never forget. But still even when Hungary's armour and face is splattered with blood, when her hairs flying crazily around her and with a slightly feral look in her eyes he thinks she's beautiful. She's never looked better then when she's defending their people on the battlefield.
Austria hates seeing Hungary in pain so once a month when Hungary gets her period he goes overboard in trying to make her feel better. He will ask her every five minutes if she needs anything, he will run to the shops for tampons, pads or chocolate. He'll be constantly filling hot water bottles for her, will give her a massage if she's feeling overly stiff and will even play her songs on his piano to try and distract her. Austria's normally lazy so this is the most he works all month, by the time her period is over Austria will be on the verge of collapse from exhaustion. Which means Hungary will then take care of him, making sure he gets some rest.
They know each other so well that they both have a sort of sixth sense for when the other one is in danger. Hungary won't hesitate to charge in and protect Austria but Austria is aware he's weaker and will normally get help from either Prussia, Germany or Switzerland.
Speaking of siblings, all of Prussia's get along very well with Hungary. Liechtenstein is one of her best friends, Germany sees her as being dependable, Prussia is one of her closest friends and even Switzerland admires her strength. Actually if anything his family gets on too well with her, meaning they have less alone time as a couple. Especially Prussia who won't stop crashing their dates.
Austria was nervous when he first found Kugelmugel, although he wasn't currently in a relationship with Hungary he still loved her and was worried about how she would react to him having a child around again.
Hungary has a secret scrapbook of the future she wants with Austria. This includes wedding plans, pictures of potential future houses and even adoption papers so she can officially adopt Kugelmugel.
Austria didn't believe in soul mates until he met Hungary
These two are constantly trying to sacrifice themselves so the other can live. They've thrown themselves in front of bullets, swords and even arrows to protect each other.
Austria is scared of thunder storms, so he always calls Hungary to comfort him during them. Whenever Hungary gets these calls she immediately wants to come over but Austria is adamant she stays at home and avoids the storm because it's dangerous. She normally comes over anyway.
Hungary has been in many battles and has a few scars in various places. She hates them, but she hates them a little less whenever Austria kisses each one and calls them beautiful.
Hungary likes to go running early in the morning but Austria worries about her being alone in the empty streets. So he started running with her, even though Austria is very slow and runs out of breathe easily which slows Hungary down, she still appreciates the gesture.
Austria automatically hates Romania just because Hungary hates him.
Hungary won't hesitate to hit anyone with her frying pan who criticises Austria. (Prussia is normally the victim.)
Austria once tried to become more manly for Hungary by training with Germany. When Hungary found out she became concerned that her strength might be bothering Austria so she started acting weaker. They were both miserable until they confessed that Hungary loves Austria the way he is and Austria loves Hungary's strength.
Hungary is in charge of catching any spiders
Austria frequently commissions Kugelmugel to paint Hungary, what he doesn't know is that Hungary also commissions Kugelmugel to paint Austria. Their houses are full of portraits of each other and Kugelmugel's pockets are full of cash.
(This is my first time writing headcannons so hopefully this was ok, I'll add the pruk ones into a separate post to stop this one from getting too long. And thanks for supporting the blog, I'm glad it makes you happy :)
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nightwishesworld · 4 years ago
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Heyy! So this is my first time requesting so i’m sorry if I don’t make much sense lol. I just wanted to ask what qualities do you think each of the sisters look for/like either physical or personality-wise?
As in potential romantic partners? I hope that’s what you mean....
If not just hmu and I’ll make another one. There isn’t enough content for these three!
Bela
No crackhead energy- save that for when you hang out with her younger sisters
You have to be very patient with both Bela and her sisters
Bela wants someone to curl up in the library and share her thoughts and feelings with
Someone that grounds her through all the craziness that ensues in Dimitrescu Castle
Really lowkey dates are ideal (hikes to secluded parts of the forest, going around to all her favorite shops and letting her buy whatever she wants, reading to her in the library while curled up together enjoying a hot cup of tea, etc.)
Another level-headed person to intervene in arguments between her sisters
That being said, her sisters have to get along with you in order for the relationship to work
Just because she’s the oldest and unofficial peacemaker doesn’t mean Bela isn’t anything like her sisters. Quite the opposite actually.
If Cassandra or Daniela get her going she will lose herself in the moment and go absolutely crazy with them
HOWEVER, if they try to get you to join in their antics Bela snaps out of it just enough to become protective over you
As long as your safety is ensured she will let you tag along
Bela’s old and wise enough to know physical attributes don’t matter. 
Got scars? She’ll kiss ‘em. Long hair? She’ll braid it. Short hair? Run her fingers through it. No hair? She’ll just rub your head.
Man? Woman? Other? Who cares as long as you love her and her family for who they really are
Cassandra
Dates to the art museum are absolute goals
You don’t have to know a whole lot about art, just show genuine interest and she’ll be more than happy to explain it to you
Her partner has to smother her in love and affection 
PDA isn’t an issue for her (unless it is for you, of course)
She loves dragging you into her private Art Gallery in the castle to show off all her amazing works
Sometimes she uses you as her muse
One day you surprise her with a drawing you’d been working on for awhile and feel almost embarrassed giving it to her cause you think it’s nothing compared to what she’s capable of creating
It’s not worthy of such an amazing artist
Cassandra begs to differ. She is so touched by all the hard work you put into making something just for her she’s reduced to tears
She hugs you as tight as possible and whispers how much she loves you over and over again in your ear
She takes caution in handling the artwork until she finds a proper frame to put it in. From there she hangs it in her bedroom so she’ll always have a piece of you with her even when you’re not
Cassandra has very few physical preferences but does appreciate a woman with larger breasts (for cuddling!)
After a particularly rough day, nothing brings her more joy and snuggling in bed with her face buried in your chest
Even if they aren’t that’s ok too! Nothing can stop Cassandra Dimitrescu from cuddling with you (Unless you don’t want to)
Daniela
Daniela is your ride or die
Chaotic energy is recommended
She treats you how you treat her
You need to know how to have fun if you wanna have any kind of relationship with Daniela
Getting yourselves into the most trouble possible is really the ideal date in her mind
Daniela wants someone to topple the social hierarchy with
She’s a tad possessive when you’re around other people, especially if someone tries flirting with you
You can’t be squeamish around her...if you have a problem with blood/gore she’ll try to shield you as best she can
Loves bringing you to her room and going through her weapons collection with you
Every blade and bolt has its own unique story to tell and you’re more than happy to listen to each and every one
Tender moments with Daniela are a rather rare occurrence, but they do happen
She’ll never admit it, but she loves being wrapped in your arms
It always amazes her how quickly you can go from “total chaos” to “cuddly kitten” but she’ll never complain
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firelxdykatara · 4 years ago
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Touching Zuko’s Scar
It’s entirely possible that someone has written meta on this before, and possibly done it better/more eloquently than I’m about to. However, I have Things To Say and I’m going to say them, and hopefully my point comes across! This post is largely spurred on by a few posts I’ve seen in the tags lately which have... rather baffling takes on the whole ‘who touches Zuko’s scar and why’ situation, particularly in regards to feeling the need, for some reason, to diminish the scene in which Katara touches his scar and the importance of that moment for both of them.
From what I can tell, this was done in an attempt to prop up Maiko, which I suppose makes some amount of sense since that is a ship which can barely stand on its own without tremendous amounts of headcanoning to fill in the gaping holes left by the fact that the entirety of their relationship development happened off-screen (and the glimpse we do get into it in the ‘going home’ midquel comic leaves a lot to be desired in terms of why Zuko would even want to be with her, but that’s another discussion entirely). But it still doesn’t quite fit, because the scenes with Katara and with Song are so much more meaningful, both in terms of Zuko’s arc and the way the girls relate to him (and it also ties into Katara feeling so hurt by Zuko’s betrayal, and needing more than any of the others before she can forgive and accept him into the gaang).
Now, that out of the way, I do want to say up front that the intention here is not to be particularly anti Maiko, but to examine the situations in which Zuko’s scar is touched (or almost touched), and the similarities two of these scenes have which are not shared by the third (at which point, you’re obviously free to draw your own conclusions).
Also, please bear with me--I can’t take screenshots or anything, so I’ll reference scenes and the episodes they come from but there won’t be images.
Under a cut bc this got long
To start off, there are three moments in the entire series where a character touches, or tries to touch, Zuko’s scar with her hand. (I say ‘her’ because all three instances occur with girls near Zuko’s own age.) The first moment is in The Cave of Two Lovers, the second episode of book two--this is the moment where Song sees Zuko’s scar, recognizes it for the intentional burn from a firebender that it is, and reaches for it.
Song: Can I join you? I know what you’ve been through. We’ve all been through it. [looks at Zuko’s scar] The Fire Nation has hurt you. [she slowly reaches for his scar, but before she can touch it, Zuko grabs her wrist and stops her; she puts her hand back in her lap] It’s ok. They’ve hurt me too. [pulls up the leg of her pants to reveal the burn scars there]
The second moment comes at the end of book 2, in The Crossroads of Destiny, in a moment that is a deliberate parallel of Zuko’s connection with Song--but this time, he lets Katara touch him.
Katara: [she holds up a vial] This is water from the spirit oasis at the North Pole. It has special properties, so I’ve been saving it for something important. [moves closer to Zuko, standing in front of him] I don’t know if it would work, but... [Zuko closes his eyes, and Katara’s fingers touch his scar; the scene holds there as the music swells, before they’re interrupted]
Like Song did, Katara felt a connection to Zuko via a similar trauma he suffered. However, unlike Song, Katara knew who Zuko was--the banished prince of the Fire Nation, and someone who had been her enemy for most of the past several months. However, she still feels compassion and empathy for him, and it is for this reason that she takes his subsequent choice harder than anyone else in the gaang does (and why it takes more for him to earn her forgiveness).
Now, the third moment is... rather incongruous. There is neither compassion nor understanding involved in touching his scar, there is no real emotional connection, and it comes right on the heels of his girlfriend--someone we’re supposed to believe cares about him and his emotional wellbeing, since they’re in a relationship (which happened off-screen, but I digress)--shutting down his attempt to talk about his feelings, something that will present a conflict in their relationship later on.
Mai: [yawns] I just asked if you were cold, I didn’t ask for your whole life story. [she moves forward, smirking, and then chuckles, putting one arm around his neck and pulling his face towards her with her other hand] Stop worrying. [they kiss, and then Mai walks away, leaving Zuko to stare out at the horizon again; the wiki transcript says he looks relieved, but to me he looks resigned more than anything]
What’s interesting about this moment is, for one thing, it’s unclear if Mai is even supposed to be touching his scar at all. Giancarlo Volpe, the director for this episode, put the original storyboards for the scene up on his DeviantArt, and in them, it seems he was fairly careful to make sure Mai was not touching Zuko’s scar. This would make sense, considering that touching Zuko’s scar was presented as a very big deal--he specifically prevented a girl from touching his scar in the beginning of book 2, and at the end, he allowed another girl to touch him, showcasing vulnerability and trust in that moment. It is the culmination of one small part of his character arc, and that makes the moment that Katara touches his scar even more meaningful.
Of course, I can’t say definitively that it was an animation mistake or something that was deliberately changed during production (which, considering there is a moment later in the book where Bryke mandated a change, isn’t outside the realm of possibility), but it does present interesting implications.
However, even if you take the scene at face value and assume that Mai was intended to be touching his scar....it’s still presented in an entirely different framework than the previous two scenes, despite occurring almost immediately after Zuko’s moment with Katara in the caves (at least as far as episode count).
The different framework being, of course, the fact that it.... doesn’t mean anything at all.
In the first two scenes, Zuko’s scar and his pain--as well as the pain of the girls who are forging an empathic connection with him based on understanding each other’s trauma--is the focus. Touching, or attempting to touch, Zuko’s scar is the point--it is very deliberate, and there’s no way to argue against it because the writing is very explicit, and nothing else would make sense for those scenes. On the other hand, you could take out the moment where Mai touches Zuko’s scar and lose absolutely nothing--because the focus is not on Zuko, but rather on the fact that he was attempting to open up emotionally to his girlfriend (and note that this is the first indication we get in the show that they are together--take out the kiss completely and no one would even know they’re dating, let alone supposedly like one another even as friends), and was shut down with a sarcastic quip, ostensibly because Mai simply didn’t want to hear it. (This is in keeping with her later characterization, where she would much rather distract him and keep him from actually talking about any of his problems, but @araeph goes into the nature of Mai and Zuko’s emotional intimacy [or lack thereof] in much greater detail in this essay, so I won’t get too deep into it here.)
Mai touching Zuko’s scar doesn’t mean anything to the audience because it doesn’t mean anything to Zuko. He doesn’t react to or acknowledge it in any way, it’s as if he doesn’t even notice it happening (perhaps because it wasn’t supposed to? but again that’s speculation), and nothing in the scene would change if it didn’t. It simply doesn’t matter. On the other hand, Song nearly touching Zuko’s scar and then Katara actually touching his scar? They matter to him--and to the show, and therefore the audience--very much. Both moments are incredibly important to Zuko’s overall arc, because together, they show how far he had come in his own emotional journey over the course of the book.
Of course, it isn’t enough to keep him from choosing to side with Azula, because his journey was far from complete--but the fact that he was able to show such trust and vulnerability to a girl who had been his enemy not very long ago? That was huge. Because Zuko didn’t just let Katara touch his scar--he closed his eyes. She could have hurt him in that moment, but he trusted that she wouldn’t. He trusted that she was willing to use special water she’d been saving for something important--and he trusted that, in that moment, he was important to her.
It wasn’t just Zuko showing trust either, though--Katara showed trust in him. She trusted, after a few minutes of conversation and learning about the loss of his mother (and, specifically, the fact that the Fire Nation was responsible for the loss of his mother, just as it was responsible for the loss of hers), that he had changed--that he was different, and she could trust him. She was willing to use the spirit water she’d been carrying around for months on someone who had recently been so much an enemy that she fled from the tea shop, convinced that he’d somehow infiltrated the city and was planning something.
The fact that she trusted him in that moment is exactly why she took his next choice so hard, but it is also why their relationship cemented itself so solidly after The Southern Raiders, giving them quite possibly the strongest relationship in the gaang outside of Katara and Sokka.
Anyway, that was a lot of words for what essentially amounts to this: Song attempting to touch Zuko’s scar in the beginning of book 2 is explicitly paralleled by Katara being allowed to touch his scar at the end of it, and both moments occur during scenes where Zuko’s pain and trauma are acknowledged and validated, and where the person he’s speaking with feels a connection to him because of that shared trauma--because they understand what he has been through. It’s likewise important to note that while Song didn’t actually entirely understand, because she didn’t know who Zuko was or what being traumatized by the Fire Nation actually meant to him, Katara did--and she still was able to feel for him, connect to him, and want to help him.
By contrast, the moment with Mai occurs in a scene where Zuko’s pain and trauma are invalidated and dismissed, where his girlfriend attempts to distract him rather than help him through what is clearly a moment of great emotional turmoil. No, she shouldn’t have to be his therapist, but emotional support is vital in any relationship--especially when one party is traumatized and desperately needs support and love--and it is notably lacking from Maiko, starting from their very first romantic scene together.
Make of that what you will.
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thetaoofzoe · 4 years ago
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FIC: Syverson the Protector Pt 4
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*   Syverson The Protector - Part I (pairing Syverson x YOU)
*   Syverson the Protector - Part II (pairing Syverson x YOU)
*   Syverson the Protector - Part III  (pairing Syverson x YOU)
Summary: You are an embedded journalist and on a mission, everything goes wrong. The two of you have made it to safety and now it’s time for the healing to begin. 
Rating for this part: Budding romance, Fluff, medical related content, I’ve picked ‘Henry’ as Syverson’s first name and he’s grown his hair out :D
Must be read in order, no part can stand alone. I expect to have at most,  two more parts, 5 and concluding in 6. 
Word count: 2293
Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist
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Lying flat on his back, Syverson stared morosely at the ceiling and listened to the gentle thwapping sounds of the bedside machine that was currently and eagerly siphoning fluids out of his intestines. He let his mind tick over what the machine was actually doing to him and blearily considered why he wasn’t in constant pain from the electronic manipulation of his own vulnerable flesh.
Surely those plastic tubes driven into his guts should hurt, right?
Sure, you’re right, his mind chattered, a little giddy to be imparting an unknown bit of information, but consider this: morphine – a wounded man’s best friend.
My best friend, he thought and then as if the devil knew it was being called, another machine beeped and a flood of soft luscious haziness rushed into his bloodstream and he immediately relaxed. This tired mind drifted and it didn’t take long for him to slip back into sleep.
Hours later, Syverson startled out of a clinging and sticky dream with a desperate gasp. He felt hot all over, stiff and aching and the very thought of trying to move elicited a terrible pain response. Hot, oily bile crept up in his throat and his mouth watered in that awful familiar process of preparing him to violently empty his stomach.
I have to sit up, his brain screamed. I have to sit up. I don’t want to puke still lying on my back!
A broad cool hand pressed down on his chest and another closed about his shoulder. Someone was speaking but he couldn’t make out the words through the heavy veiling fog that enveloped him. He tried to speak to the person, and tried to tell them that he was going to be sick.
‘It’s ok, Henry,’ a voice was telling him. ‘You’re ok. I’ll help you roll onto your side if you need to vomit.’
Swallowing jerkily, throat working hard to force the urge back down, Syverson clamped his teeth and shook his head.
‘All right. How about we move you a bit. Are you ok with that?’
Move? God no. I can’t bear that. Moving meant pain.
He shook his head again, but the warm voice came back to him, sounding much more insistent this time.
‘I can help you, Henry, or I’ll put the positioner in bed with you and it will make you move. We want to prevent pressure sores, remember?’
Syverson took in a breath and after a moment nodded to show that he understood. When the man leaned in close, Syverson could smell his cologne. It was a pleasant and fresh woodsy scent that reminded him of his cabin back home. A sudden homesick ache tightened his chest and tears wet his dry eyes. He didn’t like feeling that way, but everything seemed to be out of his control now. He hated it.
Nevertheless, he put his arms around the man’s shoulders and gritted his teeth when his body was repositioned and stretched out again on the stiff mattress.
He gasped and couldn’t believe how out of breath such a small exertion had left him. But, he noted, he did feel better and the nausea had subsided.
The urge to eat suddenly struck him and he blinked up at the nurse.
‘What time is it?’ he rasped, voice rusty from disuse.
‘You hungry?’ asked the nurse with a grin.
‘Yeah, I could eat,’ he answered, wriggling a little to get more comfortable in the pillows under his head.
‘I can get you something, but it’s after breakfast and not quite lunch.’
Syverson nodded. He didn’t care. He just wanted to eat.
‘Fries and a coke, then,’ he said closing his eyes and grinning a little.
The nurse laughed and gently patted his shoulder condescendingly. With the state of Syverson’s gut, there was no way he was going to survive ingesting any amount of carbonation. That little fact didn’t stop the cravings though.
‘I’ll see if there’s some soup still left. I think it’s chicken.’
When he was alone again, the memories came back. After the jeep explosion, he was sure that he was going to die out in that sandy wasteland. Had it not been for you, he was sure that he would have died. Had it not been for the beautiful, plucky reporter, some stony faced military man would be paying his parents a visit to inform them of their youngest son’s passing and that his body would be flown home for burial.
Instead, he had been saved. And when he found that you’d been housed in the civilian wing of the hospital, he wanted to see you. He wanted to thank you for saving his life. When visiting you was denied, considering the fragile state of the both of you, Syverson had instructed that the well stocked gift shop be bought out and carted to your room, all with his heartfelt thanks.
He owed you his life. A few flowers and a couple of teddy bears was the least he could do.
The plastic and faux wood table rattled next to him and snapped Syverson out of his muse. He opened his eyes and watched as the nurse positioned the table over his bed and put down a ceramic bowl of steaming soup. He groaned and strained a little to help himself up into a sitting position.
The nurse was distracted and looking down into his other hand.
‘I ran into your girlfriend’s nurse in the hallway and she gave me this to give to you.’
God, he sounded so smug and Syverson wanted to punch him square in the face.
Girlfriend?
His brain searched for a face to put to the name but came up empty. He’d broken up with his ex more than five years ago, right before his latest deployment. And then it clicked.
The reporter. You.
The nurse handed the card to Syverson and upon seeing it, his heart sank. It was the same envelope that he’d sent along with the gifts. Had you refused his outpouring of affection? He slowly opened the envelope and breathed out with relief when he saw the new message that had been written for him.
He didn’t want to smile at the note in front of the gossipy nurse, as he didn’t want to encourage any nonsense rumours, so he kept his elated reaction to himself. But inside his heart soared and the soup tasted better than anything he’d ever eaten before.
**
The day that you both championed and dreaded finally arrived. The day you could get out of bed on your own and walk down to the men’s wing to pay your captain a visit. He had come a long way, you’d heard from the nurse, but would still have trouble doing any taxing travelling. However you were well enough to make the trip.
‘That is, if you still want to,’ said your nurse with a glint in her eye.
Oh, she thinks she’s funny, does she?
You sighed luxuriously and stretched back on your pillows. You’d managed to wrangle an extra set so that you could prop yourself up like a royal lady taking in visitors for the afternoon. You ran the edge of your thumbnail across the thick scar skirting the side of your left palm, scratching it lightly but thoroughly. You had recently had your bandages removed and the sight of your hands was shocking. The backs of your hands had taken the brunt of the burns and they were wrinkled with scar tissue which butted up against new skin growth. A daily cream was a must to keep the tissue from tightening up and preventing normal usage of your hand. You scooped up a handful of the waxy smelling stuff and massaged it into your hands as your nurse watched you expectantly.
Her expression fell a bit when you didn’t answer right away.
Serves her right, you thought, casually kneading fingertips into the palm of your opposite hand.
‘I mean, you don’t have to, if you’ve changed your mind.’
She picked at a bright yellow rose bud that had fallen off of one of the new crops of flower bouquets. Henry had made sure to keep you flush with fresh beautiful flowers. You had to draw the line at the character balloons, and had to tell him that he should stop sending them because the hollow sounds of them knocking together at night was creepy and it kept you awake.
‘I haven’t changed my mind, Barb,’ you said and gave her a smile.
I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to see him again.
‘Well, good. He’s been asking after you… like… constantly now.’
You said nothing, but a tiny grin stretched your lips.
Constantly?
‘We can whip out the chair and wheel you over there after lunch.’
Your heart leaped with sudden and visceral terror.
It’s soon. So soon. Too soon! Today?
You swallowed hard and felt your face heat with uncertain embarrassment.
‘S-sure.’
‘Ok, I’ll reserve one and be back in a few hours.’
Barb turned around and left the room. You could hear her chuckling as if this matchmaking was the best thing that had happened to her all year.
You sat up in bed, greasy hands limp in your lap and you made a face when you sniffed at yourself under your hospital gown. No way were you going to present yourself to Henry, or anyone else who would be in the day room, looking like you’d been in an accident.
Heaven forfend.
So, you washed carefully and put on the pale peach coloured long-sleeved pyjama set you’d received from the Ladies’ Supply. The Ladies’ Supply was an organisation of volunteer women who ensured the dignity and comfort of women at the military hospital through social visits, clothing donations and other feminine needs.
You did your hair the best you could and whiled away the hours until you heard the squeaky wheelchair being rolled into your room. With heart crashing excitedly against your ribs, you perched delicately on it and Barb rolled you away.
**
The day room was spacious and welcoming and abuzz with activity. Some of the men were still hooked to IVs and sitting by the wide windows and others who were more capable were dispersed amongst the tables either reading or playing cards or just talking with each other. There were also some women in there, so you didn’t feel like you were entering the lion’s den. You spotted Henry by one of the card tables and you wanted to put your feet down on the floor to stop Barb from rolling you right up to his side. Unfortunately, you didn’t do it in time and when you squeaked to an unceremonious halt at the edge of the table, he glanced up from his cards.
The look on his face when he recognised you was one that you would store in your memory for an eternity. He put the cards face down on the table and made to stand up. You immediately put up your hands to stop him.
‘No, no, don’t get up, you don’t–‘
But, he had already struggled to push himself up and out of the chair and you didn’t want to take that victory from him. You stood up as well, ready to give a firm friendly handshake, or a paltry pat on the shoulder but he had other intentions. He dragged you into his arms, and crushed you to his meaty chest, before you could manage to say, hello.
When he finally let you go, you both went back to your respective seats, feeling overwhelmed by the perfect greeting.
Grinning at him, you made a gesture to your own head.
‘Your hair… it’s all curly!’
The last time you’d seen him, his hair was shorn right to the head, and there was really no hint as to the texture or really even the true colour. So it surprised you to see a neatly clipped mop of glossy brown curls. Henry put a self conscious hand into his hair and ruffled his fingers through it.
‘I like it,’ you assured him, hoping to put him at ease. ‘I like it a lot.’
Grabby hair, your brain chittered. Perfect length for grabbing.
With that the two men who had been playing cards with him at the table, picked up and left, taking the not so subtle hint that they should leave the two of you alone.
‘I’m glad to see you. Finally,’ he said, wincing a little when he shifted in the chair.
‘Does it still hurt?’ you asked, reaching out to put your hands over his on the table.
‘I’m getting over it,’ he said, dodging the question effortlessly.
He turned his hands up to hold onto yours and you felt as shy as a virgin on a first date. So, what could you do but make a joke the break the tension.
‘I mean… if I had to get blown up to get a date with you in a hospital day room, don’t know if I would do it again. Ehh, I probably would.’
Your eyes swept up to his and he stared at you a moment, puzzled and when you gave him a little hesitant smile, Henry started to laugh. The sound it lit you up with happiness and then the awkwardness was broken.
You spent about an hour chatting and if you were honest, most of it was spent flirting, until you started to feel tired.
You didn’t want to overstay your welcome and he seemed disappointed (much to your juvenile delight) when you said that you were leaving.
‘Tomorrow then?’ he asked, big blue eyes bright and eager, his hands unwilling to let you go again.
‘Yes, tomorrow.’
-End part 4
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warlockfemale · 3 years ago
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Happy Birthday @jovialjuggernaut-draws I am so sorry that this is so late!
Bruce’s colors have always been muted.
He knows because he was told by a doctor after one of many tests. His parents had both smiled widely and told him just what an exciting thing it was. How he had a soulmate out there someplace and waxed poetry about just the sort of things Bruce would notice once he’d found them. He is one of the 30% of the world with someone made just for him that would be found out once his skin touched theirs.
What they hadn’t told him was how only 6% of the world consisted of people with soulmates that had one one another. What would have devastated Bruce once became a relief because he wasn’t destroying another’s life by making them step into the darkness with him. He was happy to date around and allow whoever had been burdened with him to go on with their own life.
And now he was staring in shock into eyes greener than anything Bruce had ever seen before in his life.
“Shit.”
“Shit!” Edward Nygma agreed. He stepped back, cleared his throat, and swiveled around. “Girls! I’ve changed my mind!” Bruce’s mind had frozen into a blue screen so all he could do was stare at the green clad (god is this how so many people usually saw the world?) trio stride out. As if Edward had an important dinner date he was almost late to while Bruce’s entire worldview was trying to stop tilting. He was sure the entire gala was staring at him or Edward at that point, wondering just what Gotham’s most popular billionaire had done to put the robbery to an end so fast.
“Bruce? You doing ok?” Hands started patting him all over. “Bruce? You’re looking really pale here.”
Shit.
* * * *
Bruce wasn’t brooding. He was analyzing the situation from all angles after debriefing it in the batcave to all persons that might get affected. Dick still refused to answer his phone so Bruce asked Wally to tell his son to check the text. Jason apparently thought there was nothing to worry about (and started laughing) and Alfred seemed less concerned about Bruce’s soulmate being a criminal and more worried about how Bruce was reacting.
Bruce wasn’t brooding and to prove it he went to answer the door soon as the bell rang.
“Delivery for a Mr. Wayne!” Nina Damfino grunted as she shoved a heavy green wrapped box into Bruce’s arms. Unlikely to be an explosive since she’d delivered it and Bruce doubted he could get away with chucking the thing away onto the lawn. So he regrettably started unwrapping the thing; hoping that Edward was watching and wincing at the unnecessary mess made of the custom paper. Taking a deep breath (and hoping that Riddler hadn’t somehow bribed Ivy into giving up some pollen) Bruce opened the box.
What. The. Fuck.
Those were Bruce’s statues. The ones depleting Zal and Rudabeh, stolen from the museum they had been on loan to years ago.
Bruce slammed the door shut in Nina’s face.
* * * *
Of course someone had noticed what was going on. Bruce hadn’t been able to stop himself from gawking at just how many different colors the world had now. Or maybe Riddler had bragged to the entire city about it. Either way Bruce was suddenly bombarded with reporters from the society page. One of them had the gall to ask when the wedding was.
“I have a preteen son,” had been Bruce’s statement hoping that could clear things up. “He is my first priority.”
In hindsight that might have been the wrong thing to say.
* * * *
“So I’ve changed the rules a little. My riddles will lead you to criminals and this time they won’t be me!” Jason was practically vibrating in place from mirth as Bruce stared fixedly at the letter laying on the table. Gordon was giving Bruce A Look.
“Word on the street is something happened at the Wayne gala.”
“Hrrn.”
“Riddler donated back some of the art he stole. Wrapped with a bow.” And with a two sheeted riddle that pretty much translated into one giant insult that the museum’s director was still trying to puzzle out. Jason had thought the entire thing was great after the director’s snub at the “newest Wayne charity case”.
“I heard.” The wall really needed to be repainted.
“Batman I need to know if this is going to explode into something I’ll need to worry about.” That had been Dick’s exact words when he’d come into the cave last night.
“I’m looking into it.” Alfred had already started to make pointed remarks about manners and facing life’s problems. “Now ‘You don’t have to look for a night on the lawn’-”
* * * *
“You know Riddler tried to bribe me into sharing information about you today at the library.” Jason tilted his chair back onto the back legs as if he had not just nearly given Bruce a heart attack with his words. “Don’t worry, I held out for a triple scoop sundae before letting him know your favorite color.”
“Jason, he's a dangerous criminal!”
“Eh I grew up with worse.” Bruce breathed in deep trying not to let Jason see just how troubled that fact always made him. Jason usually said things like that off hand, just another fact about the world. The sky was blue, Selina liked to steal things, and Jason’s childhood until now had consisted of trying to survive. “His eyes aren’t mean. And you’re soulmates.”
“I cannot tell you how little that reassures me,” Jason grinned and tipped his chair back into place the little brat. Bruce ruffled the boy’s hair as punishment earning a fake glare and slap at his hands. “But really Jason, you need to stay safe.”
“Uh huh. Think I could take on the Riddler.” Not reassuring. “I also made sure to be in sight of Barbie at all times.” Much more reassuring since Bruce had personally seen Barbra flip two grown men over her head at once. Another grin, bigger this time. More of a smirk that had Bruce raising an eyebrow. “I also told him that you liked flowers.”
“Jay lad please tell me-”
“Sir there seems to have been a delivery for you.” Alfred’s face was carefully blank, a sure sign of just what Bruce was going to find at the door. “If you do not mind.”
“Don’t worry!” Jason called out happily as Bruce stared in disbelief at the sudden garden now growing on his steps. “I made sure Ivy wouldn’t be out for blood!”
* * * *
“Ah detective!” Edward’s green suit might as well been the only spark of color in the diner as Bruce entered it. As pressed and clean as always while the man himself gave a small toast with his coffee cup. “Glad you could make it! And you solved my riddle! Very good!”
“Riddler.” Bruce sat down at the diner bar taking in Edward’s appearance. “What is it now?”
“Is that any way to talk to your new partner?”
“If you think this game-”
“Oh please,” Edward waved his hand like a magician retrieving their rabbit. “You might think Bruce’s secret is safe but I am a genius. He’s helped fund the Justice League.” Edward leaned in, eyes darting around the near empty diner as his voice lowered. “He’s funding you. I have to play on the side of angels for the only one in the universe that can understand me?” He stood up, throwing cash upon the bar and a grim smile on his face. “Now let’s get to chasing down those criminals. Quick crime question. Who was the biggest thief in history?”
Bruce stared at him, then the newspaper resting under Edward’s coffee cup. “Atlas News? Where is this going?” Edward’s face lit up, eyes gleaming as he didn’t even bother trying to hide his utter delight.
“The game, my dear Watson, is afoot!”
“Awwww.” Nightwing cooed into the communicator from his perch as Edward stumbled out the door. It was not adorable, Bruce reminded himself sternly, for a grown man to go scampering out the way that Edward did with such a look of utter pride on his face for having “bested” Batman. They both had a job to do and he was yet convinced that Edward wasn’t just trying to play another game. “Just for the record. Batgirl says you’re an emotionally repressed coward.”
Batman never sighed. In public.
* * * *
“Why hello there Mr. Wayne. Fancy seeing you um… here. At home. Working in your study.” Sometimes it was easy to forget that Riddler’s over extravagant self praise and mocking towards others covered up a socially awkward man. Alfred’s rather pointed eyebrow raise before the butler closed the door let Bruce know just how little the household held his own social skills. Perfect match Jason had cackled madly last night. One never shuts up and the other just grunts.
“I have a secret.” Bruce managed to grind out as he stared at the area above Edward’s ear. He could do this, he’d managed to disarm a bomb with Firefly setting things on fire last month. He has given this speech several times into the mirror and once to Alfred. “It is a rather large one and will affect any… relationship that I may have.” Bruce chanced a look at Edward’s face and was slightly alarmed to see the man’s lip’s twitching. “You deserve to know and if this makes you decide that a-”
“Unless your secret is that you’re Batman I don’t expect-” Edward trailed off as he stared at Bruce’s face. The green clad man’s face went blank as Bruce went through all the contingency plans for when this went bad. “You’re Batman?” Edward burst out laughing, hands flying to the desk to keep himself upright as his body shook hard. Bruce’s hand flew up to sturdy the man just to be swatted away. “I knew it!”
“You couldn’t have known I was-”
“No, no. Not that. Well, somewhat.” Edward’s eyes really were a bright green, brighter than any other color as he bent forward to give a quick peck to Bruce’s lips, one thumb rising up to trace the small scar on the corner. “I always knew you were the only one who got me.”
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jawabear · 4 years ago
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Hi~ Can I request a fic? for season 3 Javier Peña. Maybe some soft Javi. With y/n being a colleague, but struggling to get back to work because of mental trauma. If that's ok with you.
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Don’t leave (Javier Peña X Reader)
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Not my GIF
A/N: Hey! Here’s another request for my sweetheart Javi. Thanks to anon for helping out a little more. However, I feel like this isn’t great? But I really hope you like it. Thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy it! Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.
Genre: Angst, fluff
Warnings: fem!reader, injury detail, mentions of blood, violence, tears, mental trauma, comfort
Summary: After a mission turns south and months of being off work, she has to face the reality of going back to work.
-
She didn’t know what came over her.
Everything moved in slow motion as one of the men lifted their gun and pointed it over at Javier. She wasn’t in control of her legs as she ran between them.
Her blood seemed to run cold when the gun went off. There was a ringing in her ear. She could hear another muffled gun shot and the muffled call of her name but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything other than fall to the ground.
“Fucking shit (Y/N)!” Javi yelled as he crawled over to her lifted her shaking torso into his lap. “Why the fuck did you do that, you idiot!” he scaled her. He pulled his radio from his belt and gave an order to call for an ambulance before he threw his radio to the ground.
She looked up at him with wide eyes full of fear. She was barely breathing and her lips were trembling. He looked down her body to her stomach that was flooding blood that was seeping into her blue shirt. “J-Javi..” she whimpered. Her voice was barely there though.
“The ambulance is on its way (Y/N). You’re going to be okay” he told her trying not to cry at the sight of her lying petrified in his arms. “You’re gonna be okay (Y/N)”
Javier didn’t move from her. He held her almost lovingly in his arms, gently stroking her hair as he whispered the same words to her over and over again, it got to the point where he was more convincing himself than her was convincing her. But she never responded to him. She just continued to stare at him with the same terrified eyes.
“Peña, la ambulancia está aquí” (Peña, the ambulance is here) a voice came over the discarded radio beside him.
He picked up the radio and put it back on his belt. “Hold on (Y/N)” he whispered to her. He slipped one arm under her knees and the other under her torso and carefully lifted her into his arms as he stood and walked as quickly as he could outside where the ambulance was waiting.
The paramedics raced over to him seeing the state that (Y/N) was in. He walked her over to the ambulance and placed her onto the bed on the inside. She gripped hold of him like her life depended on it, because it felt like it did. She felt that if she let go of him, that would be it for her. “Don’t leave” she whispered desperately.
“I won’t leave you (Y/N)” he told her as he managed to pry her arms from him “I’ll come see you. But you need to go right now”
“Javi..” he had to ignore her as he jumped out of the back of the ambulance. He took one last look at her, tears beginning the fall down her cheeks, either from pain or from the fact he was leaving her. He felt unbelievable guilt wash over him but he had to close the doors.
(Y/N) drew in a sharp breath as she splashed water over her face bringing her back into her equally painful reality. She looked at herself in her bathroom mirror and hated the sight. Seeing how her eyes were red and puffy for her uncontrollable tears of fear. Seeing dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. Well, peaceful sleep. The sleep she had been getting was plagued of the memory of the event or nightmarish versions of it. Although she still hadn’t come to terms with the fact it was a reality.
But the scar on her stomach was evidence enough.
Taking in a few deep breath, she turned off the tap stopping the water. She stood there for a moment longer, griping the sink in both hands as to try and ground herself. She was trying to brace herself for today.
She knew it wasn’t going to be easy. She would most likely suffer for the whole day. But she had to go back at some point, and if she didn’t now, then she never would.
(Y/N) let out a slow breath and pushed herself off the sink and slowly made her way out of her bathroom. She now face a new challenge; getting dressed. She already had her clothes laid out on her bed, but she didn’t quiet know how to go about it. If she were in any other state, it would be simple. But the injury to her stomach made it all the more difficult.
It had been six months almost to the day since it happened. She had been at home for those six months, bored out of her mind and in incredible pain. She spent most of her day in bed for it was too much to move. Only getting up to use the bathroom, get a drink or make some food. But even doing that let her in excruciating pain and short of breath.
The highlight of her week would be when Javier would come round to visit her, to check on her. He always brought over some ice cream because it was easy to eat, plus she loved it. But since he had been delving deeper and deeper into the Cali Cartel, he had been flying between Bogotá and Cali quite a lot so his visits became less and less frequent, leaving her all alone with her nightmares.
But she didn’t blame Javi for leaving her alone. He was doing his job and she wasn’t prepared to get in the way of that. She was convinced that if it wasn’t for him, she would be dead anyway. She was immensely thankful to have him as a friend.
(Y/N) was also thankful that the ambulance showed up when it did. Not just because it meant she got to the hospital quicker, but because she was a second away from confessing how much she loved him. She believed she was in the verge of death and didn’t want to go without telling him, but she knew if she did, she would have to live with the embarrassment that he did not feel the same. They were friends. Just friends.
Somehow she managed to get changed into her fresh clothes. Today she was returning to work. Ambassador Crosby had warned her against it saying she still needed time to rest both physically and mentally, Javi said this too but she couldn’t spend another minute at home on her own. She had to get back to work.
The journey from her apartment to her car took twice as long than it should have, and the journey from her car (in her car) to the embassy was just the same, but that was partly due to traffic.
When she finally made it to the embassy, she couldn’t bring herself to get out of her car. She sat and watched people walk in and out of the building. To them, everything was normal. But to (Y/N), having to walk back into the building was like walking into the jaws of death.
(Y/N) leant her head on the steering wheel and squeezed her eyes shut, drawing in shaky breaths as she tried to calm herself down and hype herself up for going back inside. “Come on (Y/N)” she whispered to herself “you got this far. Just a few more steps and you’ll be there”
She drew in a few more breaths before grabbing her bag and pulling herself out of her car. She took her time in walking to the embassy, those who were outside gave her looks as she walked past them but she tried her best to ignore them. But when she got inside it was no better. Everyone looked at her and whispered amongst themselves. She was the desk agent that got shot. Thats what she was known as now. Not the smiley, happy, caring agent she was before. She was the one who got shot.
To get to her own office she had to walk past Javi’s. She looked into it and saw it was empty. She also noticed that Van Ness and Feistl’s desks were empty too, meaning they were all out scoping for leads in the Cali cartel, most likely in Cali.
Finally she got to her office and saw a pile of papers on her desk. At least she would have something to distract her. At the top of the pile was a note from the Ambassador welcoming her back and telling her to take it easy.
She sat down in her chair and let out a sigh as she examined the stack of files she had been left to deal with. She grabbed a pen and the top file and began getting to work trying to focus only on the paper rather than the nightmarish visions at the back of her mind crawling closer and deeper into her.
It can’t have been any more than ten minutes before she got a sharp pain in her stomach causing her to stop and sit back in her chair. She was overcome by sudden frustration at the fact that she couldn’t even do her work.
“What are you doing back?” Came a voice form the door way. She looked up and saw Javi standing there.
“Working” she mumbled picking up her pen again.
“Clearly you’re in a fit state to be working” he said.
“I cleared it with Crosby”
“And he told you to take another few weeks off” Javi stepped into her office and closed the door before taking the chair opposite her and crossing one leg over the other “like I did. Why didn’t you listen?”
“You can’t say that” she said with a slight smile “you didn’t listen to me. You remember when we were still in training and you literally shattered your leg? I told you to rest but you came back way too soon”
“That was different (Y/N)” he told her “that was my own fault”
“And so was this” she told him “I’m the one who jumped in front of the bullet after all...”
There was a heavy silence over the two of them as she just stared at the piece of paper on her desk. There were so many thing Javier wanted to say to her. So many things he could’ve said to break the silence but he was scare the open his mouth. Scared that everything he wanted to say would just tumble out of his mouth in a mess that she couldn’t understand and he’d embarrass himself in front of her. But it was selfish of him to be thinking about his own stupid problems when the woman he loved took a bullet for him. But there was one question that was at the forefront of his mind.
“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He watched her as she dropped her pen again and her bottom lip trembled. She brought her hand to her forehead and turned her head from him slightly.
(Y/N) drew in a sharp breath before she started to cry quietly. She didn’t want him to see but there was nothing that could stop him considering he was sat right in front of her. Javier stood from his chair and pulled it round to her so he was sat beside her. He rested his hands on her thighs, rubbing them in a loving manner.
“I’m sorry Javi” she sobbed into her hands “I’m so sorry”
“Hey,” he said softly as he reached out to grab her hands to pulled them from her face making her look at him. His heart sank when he saw her bloodshot, watery eyes. A similar broken look in her as to when it happened. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for” he said rubbing the back of her hands with his thumbs.
“I was an idiot...” she sniffed.
“Yeah, you were” he agreed with a nod making her laugh slightly. “But I would’ve done the same for you” he told her quietly.
“Javi..”
“I’m serious (Y/N). Had it been the other way round, I would’ve taken a bullet for you”
“I wouldn’t want you to do that for me”
“And I didn’t want you to do it for me” he said “and...I’ve never been more scared in my life” he paused for a moment. His grip on her hands tightening as he swallowed thickly trying not to cry himself. “The thought of loosing you...I couldn’t do this without you (Y/N). I couldn’t live in a world without you. You mean more to me than you will ever know...”
He saw tears fall to her hands and heard her drew in shaky breaths. He moved further to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. She gripped his suit jacket and sobbed into his shirt. “I’m so sorry Javier. I don’t want to live without you”
“You won’t (Y/N). I’m going to help you get through this. You will get through this” he told her placing a soft kiss to her hair “I’m not going to leave you. Not this time”
04/01/21
Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade
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kiraakirana · 4 years ago
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a place to start - h. kakashi
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It has been a few days since the construction next to Y/N's house started. Day and night was filled with hammering sounds, and to make it worse, it was right next to her bed. As a result, she couldn't sleep for days. Kakashi, who had been one of her longest friend, noticed how restless she was because she couldn't perform up to her usual standard during missions.
"What's up with you these days?" he asked while sitting down next to her.
"I haven't slept in days. The construction next to my house continues even at night, damn it," she replied groggily, resting her dizzy head against the tree trunk.
It was a few minutes before Kakashi opened his mouth to speak again but this time, he said something truly out of character, "Want to stay by my place?"
Y/N slowly processed his words and turned his head to look at him questionably, eyebrows furrowed. "I mean, it's okay if you don't want to. It's just that you have low iron or something right? It could take a toll on the success of the mission if you're sick."
Y/N bursted out laughing, hearing Kakashi trying to explain himself while scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "You know, that was so out of character. You're such a private person so this is kind of new. Anyways, thanks, Kakashi. I'd drop by your place tonight."
-
So that was how Y/N end up on Kakashi's bed while he lied on the couch. It had been an hour since she laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling because no matter how tight she close her eyes, she couldn't put her mind at ease. She saw Kakashi reading his book and sat up. "Kakashi, why don't you just sleep next to me?"
"Huh?"
"Sleep next to me," she said, patting the empty space next to her, "I feel kind of bad if I sleep here and you on the couch. I'm not a messy sleeper, so you don't have to worry about being knocked over," she grins, tucking her messy hair behind her ears.
"Are you sure about that? I'm fine with being here, you know. I usually don't sleep anyway."
Noticing how Kakashi seemed set on his decision of not moving, Y/N walked to him and linked her arm to his, dragging him to the bed. "If I'm with you, you have to sleep. You're going to die from your lack of sleep someday if you keep doing that."
"Is that even possible?"
"I don't know," Y/N said, laughing a little. Kakashi chuckled and ended up sitting next to her, a book on his hand as she drifted off to sleep. When Y/N woke up an hour later to check on Kakashi, she saw him sleeping peacefully. Not used to seeing Kakashi like this, Y/N smiled to herself. She knew Kakashi suffers from insomia due to everything that happened in his past. She can't help but worry about him most of the time, despite knowing how much of an excellent shinobi he is. Therefore she was glad to see him in such tranquility, it's the least she could do.
-
It was around 2 in the morning when Y/N heard Kakashi's heavy and irregular breathing. He was sitting up straight with his hand covering his face. "Kakashi, what happened?" she asked worriedly as she sat facing him.
"Sorry," he whispered weakly, "I woke you up, didn't I?"
Y/N has lost all her rationality and didn't think about it when she pulled him in for a hug, resting her head on his shoulder. She ran her fingers through his white hair soothingly, "Shh, nevermind that." She pulled him closer so that they could share her body warmth since she noticed how cold he was, "It's okay, now. I'm here," she calmly said.
She knew it had to be one of his mental breakdown from a nightmare he must've had. She knew from the longest time that Kakashi was always suppressing his emotions. In a way, they're the same. They both had no one to confide into. She knew how lonely that feeling is, so now that she's here, she didn't want Kakashi to feel go through that alone. She often wished that she has someone by her side during her nervous breakdown, therefore she wanted to be there for Kakashi.
She also knew loneliness is hard to erase, especially if you had been so used to it. But if her presence could make even the slightest difference in his life, then she's willing to do whatever it takes, no matter how long.
She felt Kakashi shivering so she started drawing small circles on his back to calm him down. Once she felt that he had regained his regular breathing, she pulled him away as she stared into his eyes and unmasked face, hands resting on his shoulder.
She started caressing the scar below his eye and gave him a smile. "Kakashi, please know that you're not alone. I will always be with you when you need me, you don't have to shoulder your pain alone, you know. I'm willing to share it with you.
And your past, we both know we can't change them. They make us who we are. In other words, past is bittersweet. But despite everything, despite what your past may be, I'll accept you for who you are. Because the present you has become very important to me," she took a deep breath as she studied his face which he kept hidden from everyone. "And more than everything in the world, I don't want to lose you. So, thank you, for surviving until now."
The next thing she did was something done unconsciously and without much thinking about the consequences it may bring. She rested both of her palms on Kakashi's cheeks and leaned in, planting a soft kiss on the scar below his left eye.
Realizing what she had done, she dropped her hand and hung her head embarrassedly, "I'm sorry." It was also an effort to hide her blushing cheeks because she was feeling hot all over. Has she lost her mind? What on earth was she thinking?
Kakashi suddenly grabbed her hand and brought her closer. There was almost no space between them. Her heart was beating like crazy. She was afraid that he could hear the loud beatings because then he would know how much she's in a disarray right now.
Kakashi looked at her eyes in a way he had never before. There was a hint of gratefulness and determination in his eyes before they dropped to her lips. He leaned in and kissed them slowly but immediately pulled away as he wasn't sure if she wanted it or not.
Y/N who felt her knees went weak, was sure she could turn into a puddle of water at any given minute. She turned her head away, trying to hide the rosy tint of her cheeks. Kakashi dropped his head on her shoulder and said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
Surprised because he seemed to misunderstand, Y/N grabbed his shoulders and brought her hands to his cheeks before pulling him in for another kiss. This one to reassure him, that she too, felt the same way. For a very long time now, to be honest. But it was today that she finally came into peace with how she was feeling, no longer in denial about it and no longer trying to refuse it.
It was another short kiss. She was nervous and she wasn't exactly experienced on kissing. Kakashi on the other hand, was a very experienced kisser. He knew exactly how to put butterflies in her stomach (an in other areas as well, lol jk).
They pulled away for a second. Registering everything that had happened. Deciding that they both want more since those two short kisses don't seem to pay for the amount of years that they've both spent liking each other in secret, Kakashi leaned in and once he's close enough, Kakashi whispered, "Thank you, Y/N," before kissing her again. This one is long and passionate. She swore to God she could feel Kakashi saying 'I love you' against her lips. Damn, her head's in a frenzy and she felt her entire body heating up.
Still feeling very shy, once they pulled away from each other, Y/N buried her head in the crook of Kakashi's neck. She was a blushing mess. What she didn't know was Kakashi also has the same tint on his cheeks. They both ended up laughing while still embracing each other. Praying to God or whoever it is above to stop the time for a while.
She didn't know what she has done to earn herself a very precious person. Kakashi who was always followed by the shadow of loneliness and thinking he's going to be alone for the rest of his life, questioned himself if he truly deserves such a goddess who loves him for everything that he is.
"I promise I'll always stay with you."
It was a place to start. For the both of them who finally found light in their darkness.
- A/N: I just watched a bit of Kakashi's backstory since I'm still on season 6 of Shippuden, but I can't imagine the pain he goes through at such a young age. I feel like despite Kakashi trying his best to discard his emotions, he'd still be really fragile and nothing comforts him more other than reassurance and appreciation (as much as he hates to admit it). He can be really soft when he finally lets his guard down with the person he trusts (and believe me it takes tons of years for this man to open up but once he does, he'd turn jelly around you and becomes a big puppy who just wants to cling around you) or in other words, turns into a completely different person who craves affection. Ok that's too long for an author note lol. bye guys.
oh and i found the picture on pinterest but i couldn’t find the artist so you can notify me if u know who the artist is and i’ll credit them!
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sequinsmile-x · 3 years ago
Text
If Tomorrow Starts Without Me - Chapter 9
Rating: Mature (smut in this chapter)  Words: 7,261
Read it on a03, or below the cut
Let me know what you think :) 
October 2003
“I am going to kill her.”
Aaron turns from where he is preparing drinks for some of their guests to see his wife standing behind him, fury on her face and their 1 year old settled on her hip. He immediately knows who she is talking about.
He sighs as he abandons his task. “Em, sweetheart, love of my life.” He tugs her towards him and settles his arms around her and their son. “It is your birthday, and this little one's first birthday.” He says, tickling Theo’s side to get a laugh out of him. “Your mother has been here for all of 20 minutes, what has she said to have you considering murder already?”
She huffs out a breath. “She said I coddle him too much.”
Aaron’s eyebrows raise at that, not expecting Elizabeth to have commented on Emily’s parenting. It was something the older woman usually stayed away from, a silent acceptance that her daughter was a better mother than she ever had been.
“All that happened is he wanted to be picked up, so I did. And then she said that.” She carries on, clearly more upset than annoyed by her mother’s comment. “In front of everyone I might add.”
“Em.” He tucks some hair behind her ear, getting her attention to be focused back on him. “You are an excellent mother, please don’t pay any attention to her.”
She lowers her gaze from his and clears her throat. “I know I’m probably a bit over the top.” She says, as if he hasn’t spoken at all. “But we waited so long for him, and went through so much.”
“Emily.” He tilts her chin towards him, makes her look at him. “You are an excellent mother.” He repeats. “To both Theo and Jack. Don’t let her get to you okay?”
She nods and clears her throat. “Okay.” She looks back out of the kitchen over her shoulder. “I don’t want to go back out there.”
“You and Theo are the main event, you have to go back out there.” He reasons with her pressing a kiss to her lips. “Go see the team, I’ll put Jack on Elizabeth duty.”
She smiles at him and kisses him quickly before leaving the room, talking to Theo as she rejoins their friends and family.
Jack runs past the kitchen, so Aaron shouts for his attention. Jack walks up to him, a questioning look on his face.
“I need you to distract Elizabeth, okay?”
Jack sighs. “Why? What did I do wrong?”
“Jack, that's rude.” Aaron chastises whilst smothering a laugh. “Please.”
“Was she being mean to Emily again?” Jack asks, concern spreading over his face, his eyebrows tightening in a way that was so Haley it made Aaron’s gut twist.
“I think Emily is just a bit overwhelmed, and you know how they get to each other.” He says politically.
Jack seems to think about it for a second, before nodding. “It’s going to cost you two boxes of Lucky Charms.”
Jack leaves the room, leaving a very confused Aaron behind.
“I think I just got bribed by my 10 year old.”
__________________
November 2003
They are eating dinner all together when it happens. Aaron has Theo on his lap, giving Emily a break so she can eat a meal that wasn’t cold for once. Emily is telling him a story about Derek and Spencer’s antics in the office, a child friendly version since Jack is sat right opposite Aaron, when Theo wriggles out of his fathers lap.
“Ok, buddy. Down you go.” Aaron says, briefly putting his fork down as he settles the one year old on the floor, assuming he was after the toys that were scattered around the dining room.
Instead, Theo walks over to Emily, like he had done it a thousand times, and places his hands on her thighs, clearly wanting his mother’s attention.
The rest of the Hotchner’s speak almost in unison.
“Oh my god, did he just walk?” Emily asks, dropping her own cutlery down, abandoning her meal immediately.
“Shit, he did.” Aaron replies standing himself.
“I’ll go get the video camera.” Jack says, running off in search of it.
Theo looked incredibly confused over why everyone was suddenly looking at him so intently, and when Emily stands herself, he falls down, landing on his bottom, and he cries.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Emily croons as she picks him up, pressing a series of kisses to his face to cheer him up, knowing he really wasn’t hurt. She looks over at her husband. “Aaron, he walked.”
“Got the camera.” Jack says as he runs back into the room, camera on and recording and Emily smiles at him.
“Thanks, Jack.” She hands Theo over to Aaron. “Aaron, you take him, let's see if he does it again.”
Aaron nods, taking Theo and taking a few paces back from Emily, setting Theo on the ground. He stands there for a moment, looking confused.
“Go to Mama, buddy.” Aaron encourages, pointing at Emily who was crouched on the ground, arms out.
That, as Aaron expected it would, has Theo smiling and walking slowly over to Emily. He almost trips over a couple of times, unsteady on his feet, but he makes it, falling forward into his mothers arms.
Emily scoops him up and kisses him repeatedly, tears falling down her face as she does so. “Oh my sweet, clever boy.”
Theo tilts his head at her and places a hand on her cheek. “Mama sad?”
She shakes her head at him and presses a kiss to his face before looking over at Aaron and Jack, both beaming at her. “No, Theo. Not sad at all.”
__________________
February 2009
Emily really tries to not roll her eyes as Aaron insists on putting the car seat with Amelia down on the porch rather than let her hold it for the 10 seconds it will take him to open the door.
“Doctor's orders, sweetheart. No heavy lifting.” He says to her as the door opens and he picks the carrier back up.
She does roll her eyes that time as she walks past him. “Aaron, she’s not even 6lbs. I don’t think that counts as heavy lifting.”
Aaron raises an eyebrow at her when she winces as she sits on the couch, her c-section scar pulling. If she had the strength she would have got up and hit him, and throwing something at him was out of the question because he was holding Amelia. So she settled on just glaring at him.
“Jessica will be here soon with the boys.” He says as he lifts Amelia out of her carrier and brings her over to Emily without her having to ask. “They are both so excited to see her.”
“I know, Theo wouldn’t stop talking about her when I was home a couple of nights ago.” She takes Amelia into her arms, still blown away by how tiny she was. “I’m so glad you’re home, baby. No more nasty hospital.”
Emily thinks it must have been the longest week of her life, watching her tiny little girl in the NICU, her breathing suddenly becoming a problem on her first night in the nursery. Emily knows she’ll always remember the moment when the doctor came into her hospital room, where she was still recovering from surgery herself, and explained that Amelia needed a little extra care.
A combination of the pain, the hormones and the fear that there was something seriously wrong with her baby had left Emily inconsolable. Aaron sat next to her, his arm wrapped around her, as he asked the doctors the practical questions. Strong and dependable, and right by her side as he always was.
After too many nights sleeping on an uncomfortable bed in Amelia’s hospital room, Aaron having only convinced her to go home once, she was grateful to have her daughter home.
“She looks just like you.” Aaron says, stroking a finger over the baby’s head.
“You said the same about Theo.” She teases, looking up at him, a happy but sleepy smile on her face.
“You have seen our son right? He’s your double as well as your shadow.”
Amelia sneezes, drawing attention from her parents back to her. “I always forget how fucking cute it is when they do that.”
“Now she’s no longer living inside of you, you should probably work on cursing in front of her.”
“We managed to make Theo’s first word ‘mama’ despite my love of the word fuck.” She says, smirking at him when she curses again. “I think we can do it a second time.”
“Oh no, her first word is definitely going to be ‘Dada.’” __________________
May 2009 They get Theo to bed with a story from Emily, his concern about her going back to work manifesting in him all but refusing to go to sleep. The knowledge that when he woke in the morning his mother wouldn’t be there making him more difficult than usual.
She closes his bedroom door softly behind her, making sure he doesn’t wake back up as she sneaks out. Emily yawns as she walks to their bedroom, exhaustion seeping into her very bones. Amelia did not enjoy sleep, or at least seemed to consider it some kind of challenge to stay awake as long as humanly possible.
She enters her bedroom and sighs when she sees Aaron pacing the room, Amelia still very much awake against his chest. He turns to look at her, a tired smile on his face. “I think it’s fair to say she’s officially the most stubborn Hotchner.”
Emily laughs as she walks over, another yawn escaping her as she wraps her arms around her husband, resting her head on his chest next to where Amelia was. “If I feed her she’ll fall asleep.”
He hums and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Sounds good.”
He passes the baby over, to Emily who whispers to her daughter as she takes her into her arms. She settles on her side of the bed and sits up against the headboard, readjusting her shirt to feed Amelia. She leans her head back and closes her eyes.
Aaron joins her in bed, sits up next to her as she nurses their daughter. “You ok sweetheart?”
She nods and lifts her head to look at him. “Just thinking about tomorrow.” She looks back down to the baby in her arms, who was already drifting off to sleep. “I hope it’s an easy day. No big cases. Just lots of paperwork and an evening back here.”
He leans in and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You do remember it's the BAU right?”
“Shut up, Aaron. Let me hope just for a second, ok?”
He suppresses a laugh and watches as Amelia finally succumbs to sleep. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” __________________
“Emily.” Jack’s voice is gentle but it's enough to wake her up. She blearily opens her eyes and sees her step-son standing next to her side of the bed. She shifts slightly, feels Aaron’s grip on her waist tightening, a gentle pull of her body back towards him that was strong enough to move her despite the fact he was sleeping.
It was the only time he was really touching her, his instinct in his sleep was still to seek her out, to pull her into his embrace. When he was awake it was a different story. He’d avoid her affection. Something he had never done, shying away from gentle touches to his skin, or kisses she tried to press to his forehead or cheeks. The joy of being reunited, of all of them making it, had faded into the awkwardness of learning how to be around each other again, and it hurt her more than she would care to admit.
“Jack.” Her voice cracks, sleepiness still present at the edges of her consciousness. “Is everything ok?”
“Theo is having a nightmare, I can’t wake him up.”
Emily gets out of bed quickly, carefully removing herself from her husband's grasp in an attempt to not wake him up. She follows Jack to the room he and Theo were sharing and her heart clenches in her chest when she can hear him whimpering in his sleep. She sits on his bed next to him and strokes her hand over his head, running her fingers through his hair. The sight of the cut on his forehead still made her breath catch.
“Come on sweetheart, you need to wake up.” She strokes his cheek with one hand, and rubs his back with the other, gently bringing him back to consciousness. He wakes up, eyes shooting open as he looks at her. “There you are, sweet boy. You’re ok.”
“Mommy?” He sits up and throws himself at her, seeking solace in her arms. Emily wraps her arms tightly around him, feeling him press his face into her neck, his tears wetting her skin.
“It’s ok, I’m here.” She presses a kiss to the side of his head. “Mommy’s here.”
“George said you were dead.”
Emily tightens her grip on her son, her hatred for Foyet burning through her veins. “He lied, honey. I’m right here.” She soothes him enough for him to pull back and look at her and she smiles at him, she runs her thumbs over his cheeks to wipe away his tears. “Do you want to come in and sleep with me and Daddy?”
He nods enthusiastically, tightening his grip on her again. She stands, lifting him onto her hip. He was really too big to be carried like this now, making her glad it was only a short walk back to the room her and Aaron were sharing. Theo rests his head against her shoulder and she presses a kiss to his head, and speaks words of comfort against his skin.
Emily turns to Jack who was still standing by the doorway. “Will you be ok?”
He nods. “Yeah I’ll be fine.”
She smiles at him and walks past him, grasping his arm briefly as she does so. “Thank you.”
Emily reenters the main bedroom, frowning when she hears crying as she walks in. She finds Aaron standing, Amelia crying in his arms. As soon as the little girl spots her mother she starts to squirm and reaches for her, more tears appearing on her face.
Emily sighs as she places Theo on the bed, placing the already sleeping boy under the covers on her side of the bed. Once he’s settled she looks up at Aaron, and sighs when she sees Amelia is still reaching out for her.
“I only fed her just before we went to bed, so she should be ok until morning.” She walks over to where he is standing, a still struggling Amelia in her arms. “She doesn’t do well in new places, or with new people.” She curses herself as soon as she says it, her exhaustion making her brain short wire. Things she wouldn’t usually say slipping past her carefully constructed walls. The way he looks at her cracks her heart. “Aaron, I didn’t mean it like th-”
“It’s fine, Emily.” He says, passing the screaming Amelia into her arms.
Once she has Amelia in her arms she presses a kiss into the baby’s head, shushing her as she tries to calm her down. She doesn’t miss the pain on Aaron’s face when she looks back up at him, the way he frowns at her when she can almost instantly soothe their daughter when he hadn’t been able to.
It breaks her heart too, memories of the relationship Aaron and Amelia had before all of this, before Foyet, floating around in her head. Images of how he had been the only one who could get her to laugh when she first started doing it, dragging the sweet sound out of her as often as he could. She remembered walking into their living room to find Amelia doing tummy time and Aaron laying on the floor right in front of her, whispering nonsense to their daughter.
In the two days since they had been reunited they hadn’t addressed it, hadn’t acknowledged that Amelia didn’t recognise him, how hurt he was by it, and that he would have to start that relationship from scratch.
“It will get better, Aaron.” Emily says, gently rocking the baby and rubbing her back as she tries to soothe her back to sleep. “It will just take a bit of time.”
“Yeah.” He says simply, looking away. “I’m going to go make a drink.” He points towards the main suite. “Do you need anything?”
She shakes her head, resists telling him that it’s 3am and they should just go back to bed now that the kids are settled again. “I’m ok, thanks.” She leans forward, closes the gap between them and presses a kiss to his cheek and ignores how he flinches away before he leaves the room.
Emily settles Amelia back into her crib before she climbs into bed next to Theo. The little boy immediately seeks her out in his sleep, his hands digging into her pyjama shirt as he moulded himself against her. She wraps her arms around him and closes her eyes, hoping sleep would find her easily.
When she wakes in the morning, Theo is still pressed close to her, and it’s clear Aaron’s side of the bed has not been slept in. __________________
Her parents show up at the hotel that evening, and Emily doesn’t think she’s ever been hugged so fiercely by either of them. The 6 months it has been since she last saw them is not the longest she has ever gone without seeing them by far, but it was different. She’d felt it too.
Theo and Jack are next, pulled into equally adoring embraces by their grandparents. Elizabeth and John both barely cover their upset when Amelia shys away from them, her face buried into Emily’s neck.
Emily is grateful that for once, her mother pays attention to the look she gives her, the silent request to leave it alone.
They spend a few hours together. It’s awkward, and if her parents notice the way Aaron is acting, how he keeps distancing himself from her, they don’t address it. When Theo gets too tired to keep his eyes open, falling asleep against John’s side, Emily gets him up and leads him to bed.
“Mommy, can I sleep with you and Daddy again?” He asks gently, almost embarrassed by the request.
She bends down to his level and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Of course, sweetheart. But it’s going to be a little bit before we go to bed, ok?”
“Emily.” Aaron’s voice makes her whip round to look at him, the annoyance on his face confusing her. “Can I have a quick word with you?”
“Yeah, ok.” She turns back to Theo and smiles at him. “Why don’t you stay out here with Grandma and Grandpa for a bit, I’ve got to go speak to Daddy.”
They walk into their bedroom, and she sneaks a glance at a sleeping Amelia in her crib as he closes the door. When she turns to look at him he looks angry.
“Aaron? What’s wrong?”
“He can’t just sleep in here every night. You have got to stop coddling him, Emily.”
Her eyebrows raise at that, defiance washing over her face. “Coddling him? This would be the second night.” She crosses her arms and tries to keep her cool. “He’s my son. He is upset and confused by everything that’s happened. You didn’t see how upset he was when he woke up last night. So if he wants to sleep in our bed until he’s feeling more settled then that’s what I’m going to let him do.” She runs a hand through her hair. “We don’t even have Archie to defuse it, I left him behind in all the panic.”
He wants a fight, she can tell. The tension radiating off of him in waves. “It’s not just Theo. It’s all three of them. They are too attached to you.”
She tilts her head at him and furrows her brows. “Of course they are attached to me, I’m their mother.”
“You’re not Jack’s.”
She can’t help the gasp that escapes at that, the words he’s only ever thrown at her once before. When Haley had just died and they were trying to find their footing again. She turns to leave, knowing that if she said anything further it wasn’t going to help.
“It’s not like you to walk away from a fight.”
She stops in her tracks and turns to look at him, indignation all over her face. “No, it isn’t. But I did. I tore our family apart because you asked me to leave, and now we are living with the consequences of that.” Emily blows out a breath, tries to calm down. “It’s not my fault Amelia doesn’t recognise you, Aaron.”
He hates that she knows him so well, that she can so easily get to the bottom of what is really upsetting him. “What are you saying? That it is my fault?”
“You started a war with a psychopath that you couldn’t finish. And me and your children had to live with the consequences.” She shakes her head at him. “And if you think for one second that it was easy, you are deluding yourself.”
He opens his mouth to say more, to throw more barbs her way, but the door to their room opens and Jack is standing there, a nervous look on his face. “We can all hear you.”
It’s enough to snap them both out of it, Emily sighing when she thinks about the fact her mother of all people would have overheard everything that had been said. She looks back at Aaron who won’t meet her eyes.
“I’m going out.” Aaron says, leaving the room before she can protest. Emily closes her eyes to stop herself from crying, not wanting to break down in front of Jack and with her parents in the next room. She looks at Jack and tries to smile, mutters an apology as she fails to do so.
Jack nods at her before following out after his father. “Dad, wait. I’m coming with you.”
__________________
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Emily turns to look at Derek, who was standing behind her with his arms crossed and a concerned look on his face. “Yes. I think I need to do this.”
Derek stares at her a second before looking past her to the medical examiner, giving the other man a quick nod. The medical examiner opens a door to a small room and leads them in, a body covered in a sheet laying on a metal table in the middle of it.
Emily can’t help the gasp that escapes her when the sheet is pulled back, the mess of Foyet’s face being brought into view. She closes her eyes for a second and takes a deep breath before making herself look again.
He was unrecognisable. His face was a mess of bruising, dried blood and broken bones and teeth. She couldn’t believe that Aaron, a man who had always touched her so reverently, like she was made of precious jewels, had done this. That the same man who had comforted their children with such tenderness over the years had beaten this man to death, and clearly kept going much longer than was necessary.
She can’t blame him for it, not for a second, because she knows she would have done the exact same thing.
Emily takes a step forward, gets slightly closer to Foyet, and leans down to him. “You lose.”
She walks out the room without looking back. __________________
When Emily gets back to the hotel she sees her mother sat out in the living room, Amelia in her arms, Theo nowhere to be seen.
Elizabeth looks up at her and smiles. “That didn’t take long.”
Emily smiles and nods walking towards the couch. “Thanks for watching them.”
“Did you get what you needed from it?”
“Yes.” Emily replies, sitting next to Elizabeth. Amelia immediately reaches for her mother as soon as she is close enough. Emily smiles as she takes her into her arms, pressing a kiss to her dark hair as she does so. “I think so anyway. Where’s Theo?”
Elizabeth smiles at the mention of her grandson. “Your father is reading him a story, hopefully he’ll fall asleep in his own room tonight.”
Emily sighs. She had left so soon after Aaron and Jack had that there hadn’t been the chance for this conversation earlier. “Mother, please-”
“I’m not criticizing you.” She interrupts, placing a hand on her daughter's leg, trying to soothe her in a way that had never really existed in their relationship. “I promise.”
Emily stares at her, tries to find some of the underlying passive aggressiveness that usually existed in her relationship with her mother. But she found nothing except concern, and something that looked like sympathy. “Ok.”
They sit in silence for a moment, both laughing when Amelia suddenly hauls herself up on Emily’s lap, hands tangling in her hair as she balances herself. Emily smiles at her daughter as she replaces her hair in Amelia’s hands with her fingers. Her heart clenched as it always did when her baby’s hands grasped on tight.
“She’s changed a lot.” Elizabeth says, briefly running a hand down Amelia’s back.
Emily nods. “Yeah, well that’s what 6 months does I guess.”
“You’re still angry at him for asking you to leave.”
Emily turns to look at her mother, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not-”
“You are, and I can’t blame you. I would have been too.” Elizabeth smiles at her. “I was angry. I went to visit him in the hospital the day after you left.”
She frowns at that. “You did?”
“I did. And then I understood.” Elizabeth can’t help the laugh that escapes when Amelia suddenly launches herself forward, head resting on her mother’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine. You both just need to talk to each other. You’ve always got through everything.”
Emily smiles, tightening her hold on her own daughter as she settles into her. “Careful, Mother. It’s starting to sound like you actually like Aaron.”
Elizabeth smiles at that. “And he can never know.” __________________
They drive in mostly silence after Jack gives him the street address to the apartment they had stayed in during their time in witness protection.
Jack looks at him for a long moment, contemplating if it was really his place to say anything about the argument he had overheard. He turns back to look out the windscreen before he talks, and watches as the city gives way to countryside, memories of the drive out here for the first time seeping in. He remembered Theo and Amelia crying in the back seat. Theo because he had some vague understanding they wouldn't see their father again for a while. Amelia because she absolutely hated car journeys.
Mostly Jack remembers catching Emily’s eyes as he looked into the back of the car, how sad she looked despite the encouraging smile she plastered on for him.
“I think you need to give Emily a break, Dad.” He finally says. “She did her best.”
“Jack, it’s complicated.”
“I know it is, but none of it was her fault.” Jack replies. “Or yours.” He adds quickly, not missing how Aaron’s hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter. Jack clears his throat, an admission leaving his lips before he even realises he was going to say it. “I made her cry once.”
He watches his father frown at that, a question on his face. “Jack?”
“I accused her of sleeping with Sam. I knew she wasn't. I also said she wasn’t my mom.” He says, reminding Aaron what he had overheard earlier. “I just wanted to hurt her so I felt better. It didn’t work.” Jack looks out the window, avoids looking at Aaron. “I think you and me have that in common.”
There is a pause, and Jack swears he hears his dad mutter something about therapy being worth every penny before he speaks loudly enough for him to actually hear. “How did you get so smart?”
Jack smiles at him, and for the first time since he heard Emily and his dad argue he feels relief in his chest. “I’ve had three pretty great parents.” _________________
The apartment is smaller than he imagined it being, the space not seeming enough for his wife and children to have lived in for so long.
It’s clearly been abandoned. There is food left out on the kitchen counter, toys scattered through the living room and he can imagine the panic Jack must have felt when Foyet walked in, claiming his parents were dead.
“It’s a shithole, huh?”
Aaron turns around to look at his son, raising an eyebrow at his turn of phrase, Jack’s only response being him holding his hands up in surrender. Aaron then spots something orange sticking out from under the couch. He bends down to get it, his sore ribs protesting the action, and he picks it up. The fur of the stuffed cat is slightly rougher than he remembered it being, another six months of being fiercely loved by Theo wearing it down slightly.
“Hi, Archie.” He says. “It’s been a while.” __________________
When Aaron and Jack get back, Archie tucked under her husband's arm, she’s reminded of when they left the toy on a plane years ago. Theo was so small then, Amelia not even something they had considered they could have.
“You went to the apartment?” She asks, a frown on her face. She hadn’t been sure what to expect when he had stormed out hours again, but this certainly wasn’t it.
“I wanted to see it.” He says it's like the most simple thing in the world. “Why don’t you go give this to Theo.” He hands over the stuffed cat and she nods, sneaking quietly into the room Jack and Theo were staying in and smiles when she sees her son fast asleep. She places Archie next to him and presses a gentle kiss to his forehead.
Emily turns when she hears noise behind her, and she sees Jack holding a sleeping Amelia in his arms, Aaron behind him with the portable crib the hospital had provided in his hands.
She frowns slightly. “What’s going on?”
“Jack said he’d take Amelia so we could talk.”
Emily turns to Jack. “Are you sure?”
Jack nods, placing his sister in the crib once Aaron sets it down. “Of course.”
She pulls him into a hug. “Thank you.”
They walk over to their room, making Jack promise to come get them if there is an issue with either Theo or Amelia. The door closes behind them and it’s instantly awkward, she stands in the middle of the room with her arms crossed over her chest, looking at anything except him.
“I’m sorry.” He speaks first. “I was out of line earlier.”
She looks at him. “I’m sorry too.” She swallows against the lump in her throat. “I hate this Aaron. I hate that this feels so awkward. It’s never been like this.”
“I hate it too.”
She takes a step towards him. “Then you need to tell me what you’re thinking. I’m a damn good profiler, but I can’t actually read minds.”
He smiles at her, closes the small gap between them and grabs her hand. “I killed a man.”
“I know you did.” She says softly, gripping his hand tighter.
“I didn’t have to kill him.” He says firmly, his voice emotionless. “I could have stopped, and I didn’t.”
“I know.” She repeats, and she smiles sadly at him when he looks at her. “I made Derek take me to see Foyet’s body when you were gone today.” He opens his mouth, words of what she is sure are anger about to spill out. “I needed to see him, Aaron. I had to see it for myself.”
He clenches his jaw tightly for a second before releasing it, nodding at her.
“I’d have done it too.” She says, running her thumb over the knuckles he fractured on Foyet’s teeth. “I’d have killed him. Without a second thought. It doesn’t make you like him.” She cups his cheek. “You are not the same as that man.”
He sighs at that, resting his forehead against hers. “He gave me the same scars as him.”
Emily feels like her breath stutters in her chest, the realisation that was what he had been thinking about all this time hitting her like a truck. “Aaron.”
He pulls back from her, completely removing himself from her grasp, and he unbuttons his shirt, revealing the pattern of scars on his chest. Mixed in with large purple and black bruises she knows are from the final showdown with Foyet.
There was some redness to the scars, raised and slightly puckered still, but she imagined they looked better than they once had. Not for the first time she wishes she had been there with him when he was healing, and she hates that he went through so much alone.
She reaches out and touches one of them, runs her finger over the healed skin. He flinches under her touch and she pulls her hand back.
“Em...”He looks away from her, as if shielding himself from her reaction. Like he had spent the last 6 months convincing himself that anything Foyet had done to him would make her love him less instead of more. It makes her want to go back to the morgue and get a couple good hits in herself, fiery protectiveness for the man who had given her everything licking at her insides. She gently reaches out for her husband instead. Tracing a finger softly over one of the scars before she looks up at him.
“Baby.” She puts a hand on each of his cheeks and makes him look at her, her thumbs tracing his cheekbones. She feels tears gathering in her eyes, and she shakes her head at him. “They don’t matter. I’m not looking at them and thinking of him. I just see you. Just like I always have.”
He stares at her for a moment, as if he is trying to gauge if she is telling the truth, and then he surges forward. His hand tight in the back of her hair as he kisses her fiercely, pouring half a year's worth of love into it.
Emily loses herself in it, letting herself be overwhelmed by the kisses he presses to her lips and down her neck, his hands wandering up the back of her shirt, spanning the whole of her back in a way she has spent months dreaming of. Her memory hadn’t served him justice and she has to choke back a moan as his thumbs graze past her breasts.
Her brain comes back online when he presses her into the bedroom wall, a laugh escaping her mouth as he sucks on her pulse point. “Aaron.” She pushes at him slightly, grabs his face in her hands and runs a thumb over his bottom lip. “Honey, we can’t do this. You’re injured.”
He turns his face to press a kiss to her palm. “Em, please. I just need to feel you.” He presses his lips to her throat and her eyes close, the heat climbing in her body overwhelming.
She wanted him too, so much. This final reaffirmation that they had lived, they’d survived something awful and somehow, by some miracle, still had each other.
“I want you too. So much.” She says, her hand travelling to the back of his neck. “But let's take it to the bed ok?” She pulls him forward to lean his forehead on hers and smiles against his lips. “I don’t think either of us are quite up for fucking against the wall tonight.”
He pulls her tighter to him, and leads her over to the bed without another word, taking her shirt off as he does so.
They lay on the bed together, hands exploring and rediscovering each other slowly. Peeling off their remaining clothes as they go. She feels like her body is on fire, his revenant touch making her shudder.
He sucks a bruise on her shoulder and she decides she’s had enough. Emily pushes him back onto his back and swings a leg over his lap, both of them groaning when she settles over his lap, a jolt of pleasure runnin through both of them. Aaron makes a move to sit up and she gently pushes him back down, linking her hands through his, their fingers intertwining.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” She whispers as she leans down purposely not leaning on his purple mottled skin, kissing him hard on his lips.
She sits back up and sinks onto him, almost biting through her lip to prevent herself from crying out at the feeling. She stays still for a second, allowing herself the chance to adjust, to enjoy the feeling. Then she starts to move. He sits up suddenly, wraps his arms around her and ignores her protests.
“It’s worth it.” He says into her neck, pressing kisses into her skin. “Always...always worth it.”
She nods, unable to argue with him. She moves her head back so she can kiss him, wrapping her arms around the back of his head as she does.
They fall apart together, swallowing each other's moans as they do. Emily rests her forehead against his, breathing heavily as she tries to regulate her emotions. Tears spring to her eyes before she can stop them, and a sob escapes her just as quickly.
“Oh, baby. It’s ok.” He says gently, hugging her to him. He kisses her forehead before pulling her head towards his chest. “You’re ok.”
“I missed you so much.” She cries against him, fingers clawing at his still sweaty back. “So fucking much.”
“I know, sweetheart.” He kisses the top of her head, feels his own tears flood his lash line. “I missed you too.” He strokes the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. “But I’m here. We’re here. It’s over.”
Emily pulls back from his embrace and he immediately cups her face, wipes away the tears on her cheeks despite the fact he knew they’d be instantly replaced. “It’s over.” She repeats back to him before resting her head against him again. “It’s really over.”
He nods, their foreheads clashing slightly. “I love you, Emily.”
She laughs, like it’s the most obvious thing he had ever said, and she palms his face, cupping his cheek. “I love you too.” __________________
She demands to go to the house the next day, just the two of them. He’s unsure at first, doesn’t know if it is a good idea. But she is insistent, and he has never been one to deny her. Elizabeth and John come back around to stay with the children, both Theo and Amelia hesitant to be separated from their mother. It had led to a lot of tears, some from Emily although she would deny it if he brought it up, but they left eventually, a promise that they wouldn’t be long hanging in the air.
Emily is out of the car and through their front door, crime scene tape was still hanging from the frame, before he even had the car parked up. He walks in after her and finds her sood in the doorway of their dining room.
“I used to love this house.” She says without turning to look at him, eyes fixed on their dining room floor where he had left Foyet’s body only three days beforehand. “It was the first place that ever felt like home to me.” She sniffs, the heel of her hand coming to her cheek to wipe away a tear that he can’t see. “I loved our apartment, it’s the place where we became us. But this is the house we bought to have a family in. Even though that never quite turned out the way we thought it would.”
“I’ve always loved it too.”
She looks at his knuckles, still swollen, cuts standing out against his skin. “Theo took his first steps here.” She looks back at the floor. “I’d always think about that when we had dinner as a family. How he shuffled out your lap and just started walking.” She bites her lip, chin wobbling as she remembers the moment that seems so long ago now. “Now all I can think about when I stand here is that you beat a man to death. Or that the last time I came home and I found our living room stained with your blood.”
“Em.”
“I’m not saying it’s your fault.” She finally looks at his face, takes one of his bruised hands in hers and delicately runs her thumb over his damaged knuckles. She sees the doubt in his eyes, the concern she had caused with their crossed words the day before and she's so mad at herself for it she could cry. “None of this is your fault.” She emphasises. “ I just don’t think we can live here anymore.”
He feels relief he wasn’t expecting, a tension he hadn’t realised was in his chest starts to fade at her words. His time alone in the house, and the events that had bookended it, had tainted it for him. The innocence that had once lived in the walls of their house, their sanctuary from the horrors they saw in their work, torn away. “Then we find somewhere else to live.”
She looks at him with curiosity in her eyes, and she tilts her head slightly at him. “You say it like it’s simple, finding somewhere we can call home.”
“Em,” He runs his hands up her arms, finally settling on her shoulders as he pulls her into a hug. “You and the kids are my home, you’re all I need.”
Emily holds him just as tightly. “You’re mine too. I think you always have been.”
__________________
One Month Later - December 2009
Amelia is standing on his thighs, hands squishing his cheeks when he gets the call. JJ’s name flashing across his screen automatically makes his heart drop. The last he’d heard from Emily they had caught the guy. His motivations for one of the murders were still unclear, and Emily was driving with one of the local detectives and the unsub to take him into custody.
She’d even commented that she would be home for putting the kids to bed on her first case back at work. She had asked Derek to take the lead for the first couple of cases back, so she could readjust to it after such a long time away.
He balances Amelia with one hand, the little girl still not quite able to stand completely by herself yet, and grabs his phone to answer it. “JJ, what’s wrong?”
“She’s ok.” JJ starts off, sounding unsure over the phone. “She said not to call, but I thought you’d want to know.”
“JJ, just tell me.”
JJ sighs, as if preparing herself for his reaction. “Emily’s been in a car accident.”
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