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ro-is-struggling · 1 year ago

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Self care || Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky always seemed interested in your skin care routine, so when one day he arrives tired and drained from a mission, you take the opportunity to show him the importance and benefits of self-care.

Warnings: established relationship, brief mention to Bucky’s past trauma, a fuck ton of fluff, my little knowledge of skin care lol

English is not my first language

Word count: 2200

Notes: this was inspired by a dream I had. I thought it was cute and I couldn't get it out of my head, so I wrote this little thing. If it doesn’t make sense, blame my dumb dreams lol

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It was one of the first times you slept over at Bucky's place that you discovered he didn't have a skin care routine. He would look at you cleansing your face from the bathroom door, watching you apply creams and serums with a mixture of admiration and confusion in his expression. And every time you picked up a new product, he would ask you what it was and what did it do.

It didn't really surprise you, most of the men you had dated tended to use a small number of personal hygiene products and usually the facial skin was only treated with soap and water. And if that was men your age, it was to be expected that Bucky and his over one hundred years of age were not aware of the benefits of skin care.You found his reactions kind of adorable. It wasn't every day that you caught Bucky acting with the naïve curiosity of a child, and you couldn't help but laugh as you answered his endless questions.

"Please tell me you at least wear sunscreen." You said and Bucky remained silent. "Oh my God, Bucky!" you complained, explaining to him how dangerous the sun was for his skin.

"After all I've been through, I don't think a little sun is going to kill me, doll." He laughed, coming up to you to hug you from behind. You wrapped your arms around his, smiling at him in the mirror as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

The bastard knew how cute he was —looking at you through the mirror with blue eyes full of love—, and he was using it to his advantage to keep you from scolding him. He was probably right, the super soldier serum surely protected him from skin cancer in the same way it protected him from hits and falls that would be fatal to the rest of humanity. But still, it wouldn't hurt him to take care of himself a little every now and then.

"You smell nice." Bucky praised you, inhaling the subtle floral scent the creams had left on your skin. He gave you a kiss on the cheek, his stubble tickling your sensitive face. You laughed and he knew he had won.

"Don't think you're getting out of this so easily." you warned, tilting your head to the side so you could kiss him. "Flattery will get you nowhere!"

From that day on you decided that you would put together a skincare routine for Bucky. Super Soldier serum or not, everyone's skin needed a little help from time to time. And besides, you believed it was something that could benefit Bucky in more ways than just one. It would teach him to take better care of himself and to value the precious 'me time'. And god knew he needed that. So you made a mental note to buy a couple of products for him the next time you went to restock some of your kit and stopped thinking about it for a while.

That was until one day Bucky came home tired from a mission. You didn't quite know what he had to do and he didn't want to tell you much about it either when you asked him. Not knowing tore you apart, but you respected his wishes and didn't press the issue, deciding to help him in a way that wasn't invasive. You started with running him a bath, filling the tub with warm water and using some of your bath salts and lotions to create a more relaxing environment. You insisted on taking care of him, although Bucky didn't put up much resistance, surrendering to the soothing power of your caresses on his hair. Your fingers gently massaged his scalp, coating it with shampoo to remove all the dirt before rinsing it and repeating the process with conditioner.

He still found such intimacy a bit strange. Even though he enjoyed it, he still wasn't completely used to being cared for with the affection you showed him. It had been so long since anyone had treated him with such love and care that he could hardly remember it. But he felt safe in your hands, happy to have you in his life. A light of hope at the end of the dark tunnel of agony that had been his life. That was what you were to him. His second chance to live, to love. So he relaxed under your touch and let your gentle caresses take all the tiredness and worries out of his system.

But your pampering didn't end when Bucky got out of the tub. After he changed into his pajamas and laid down on his side of the bed, you emerged from the bathroom with a small white bag in your hands. You rested it on the nightstand and began pulling out various products he recognized from your skin care routine, arranging them in a nice neat line.

"Doll... what are you doing?" Bucky asked, looking at the pink cat-ear headband you held in your hands. It was the one you always wore when you did your makeup or skin care routine, a tool you used to keep your hair out of your face while you worked. He always thought you looked adorable when you used it, but he didn't understand why you were directing it at him this time.

"Taking care of you." You replied as if it were obvious, "I want to show you the benefits of having a good skin care routine." Bucky hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in to your soft smile and the sparkle of enthusiasm in your eyes. There was nothing he could say no to if you looked at him that way.

He gave you a slight nod and you took that as a signal to continue. You climbed onto the bed, settling onto his lap with one leg on either side of him, so you could face him and work more comfortably. Bucky put his hands on your hips instinctively, the cold metal of his fingers giving you goose bumps at the unexpected touch. But you didn't move them, you liked his hands there.

"First we have to make sure your hair is out of the way." You announced as you placed the headband on his head, making sure no hair was out of place or near his face. You couldn't help but let out a giggle as you admired Bucky wearing the accessory. The pink, furry cat ears looked so out of place it was ridiculous. The clear feminine energy of the headband clashed against the distinctive masculine look on his expression in a fun and charming way. It made him look adorable if you were honest, especially when he smiled at you. He could definitely pull it off.

"How do I look?" Bucky asked, batting his eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion.

"Adorable." You replied between giggles, before giving him a quick peck on the lips.

When you broke apart, you began your skin care routine, taking a piece of cotton and your favorite micellar water to cleanse Bucky's skin. He looked at you closely, taking advantage of the position you were in to admire your beauty up close while you concentrated on soaking the cotton ball in the liquid. You were the most beautiful woman in the world, he was sure, and not only that, you were kind and loving too. A wonderful person all around and he still didn't understand how he had managed to get you by his side, but he was happy about it.

"Why do you have to clean my face? I just showered." Bucky mumbled with his eyes closed, feeling your delicate fingers on his chin as you ran wet cotton across his face.

You let out a giggle. "Water is not enough! And regular soap is too harsh on the skin of our face, so you need to use a cleanser or cream that is meant for the face."

"I never heard about that." Bucky frowned, tilting his head slightly to the side in confusion.

"Because you're a guy and guys are used to using one product for everything hygiene related."

“That’s not true!” he tried to defend himself, although he didn't sound very convinced.

You decided to skip a few steps in the routine to keep things simple. The idea was not only to pamper Bucky and help him relax, but also show him that maintaining a skin care routine didn't have to be complicated and could bring him many benefits. So you went straight to the eye cream, taking some with your ring finger and carefully applying it to the bags under his eyes.

"Stay still! You're gonna make me poke your eye if you move like that!"

"It already feels like you're poking my eye!"

"Don't be so dramatic!" You laughed, men really were cry babies. "Just close your eyes and trust me." Bucky grumbled, pouting. You planted a quick kiss on his lips, and that seemed to please him because he kept his eyes closed and stopped moving. Carefully, you spread the eye cream over his dark circles, giving his skin time to absorb the product before proceeding with the last step.

"What is that?" Bucky asked you curiously as you reached for the last tub in the line of products.

"It's a night cream. You're supposed to use it at night after you wash your face to keep your skin moisturized."

"Isn't that what the other cream did?"

"No, silly! That was just for your under eye area, this helps hydrate the rest of your face. We need to give back all the good things we got rid off when we cleaned your skin of all the dirt and oils clogging your pores."

Bucky made an annoyed face, muttering about how complicated it all sounded. But the truth was, he was enjoying the extra attention you were giving him. He had you all to himself, the warmth of your body enveloping him in a comforting embrace as your fingers gently massaged his face. He couldn't think of a better definition of paradise than that. Just the two of you sharing an intimate moment, far from the horrors of the outside world. He could commit to a skin care routine if it involved at least a third of the pampering you were giving him at that moment.

"You don't need to use much," you continued your explanation, dipping one of your fingertips into the cream before bringing it up to Bucky's face. "Just a little bit here, here, here... and here." You painted a couple of white dots on his cheeks, forehead and chin, kissing the tip of his nose before applying a bit of cream to the area. It was such a cute and intimate act he almost blushed.

The first thing Bucky noticed about the cream was the scent. It had a light rose fragrance that was familiar to him, comforting even. It traveled up his nostrils as you massaged the cream into his face, sparking a warm and fuzzy feeling inside him. It took him a few seconds to understand that it was because that was the same rose scent he recognized on your skin whenever he kissed you, that sweet floral scent he had learned to recognize as home. He finally knew he had your choice in moisturizer to thank for it.

"You're using your cream on me?"

"Yes, it's the only one I had. The perfume doesn't last long, don't worry. I'll buy you an unscented one tomorrow."

"No, don't! I like this one, it smells like you... it's like having a little piece of you with me all the time."

You didn't expect him to say that, so you weren't prepared for the tingling warmth of love that coursed through your body. The idea that he wanted to keep you close at all times, that he recognized your scent and found comfort and safety in it, made your heart melt with love. Bucky was normally a man of few words, and tended to show his feelings with other things rather than words. Acts of service were his most common way of showing how much he loved you, although he also resorted to spending quality time together whenever you had free time. But every once in a while, he would manage to drop a sentence like that, which in concise words made it clear how much he loved you. Always taking you by surprise, he would drop them at the most casual moments, leaving you completely stupid for a few seconds as you processed his words and wondered what you had done to deserve having someone so wonderful in your life.

Bucky gave you a shy smile, cheeks turning pink under your gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable. He looked so adorable that you couldn't help but join your lips with his in a slow, loving kiss. He reciprocated immediately, one of his hands leaving your waist to cradle your cheek, pressing you tighter against him and deepening the kiss.

"I love you," you muttered against his lips, pressing your forehead against his as you gazed into his deep blue eyes.

Bucky smiled, feeling the last bit of stress evaporate from his system thanks to you and your sweetness. "I love you too."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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endless-ineffabilities · 3 months ago

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The Bolter (part eight) (18+)

Steve Rogers x f!reader / Bucky Barnes x f!reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : The reader, Bucky, and Sam embark on a mission to find the Flag Smashers. We see what Steve and the reader went through in the years following the snap.

themes/warnings : pining, angst, allusion to trauma, language, some smut

word count : 3.1k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist

2024, seven months after Steve’s departure

Being with Bucky back in the field isn’t how you thought it was going to be.

When Steve left, you figured it would be up to you to keep Bucky grounded, to be there when the weight of his past threatens to drag him down. You imagined yourself watching for the cracks, being the steady presence he needs. Even though you are just as broken, and you need the same help to keep from slipping, reluctant as you might be.

It turns out, it’s Bucky who watches over you more.

You feel his gaze every time you move, that soldier instinct kicking in the moment things get tense. The moment you both accepted the mission, he’s perpetually hovering at the edge of your vision, making sure you’re ready. That you’re okay.

Never mind that this is the life you’ve always known. Jumping from city to city, going after the supposed bad guys, getting bruised and beaten but doling it out just as hard. You knew it was about time – recuperating in New York and playing at living a normal life was never going to last long.

You gave up on normal a long time ago. The normal you dreamed of – lakeside house, dog, him – that was gone. And you just never had another vision to replace it, coming to accept the truth that always was, and always will be.

That you will never be able to leave the Huntress behind. You are the Huntress. Your ledger drips red.

But with Bucky, you didn’t expect to feel this… protected. It almost catches you off guard at times, but then there’s Sam, who thankfully keeps things moving. The three of you make a strange team, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You good?” Sam asks as he glances at you both. “We’re almost there.”

Bucky turns to you, awaiting your answer too, so you give a terse nod. The low hum of the aircraft vibrates through your body as you stand, the wind whipping from the open door, howling in your ears. Sam stands at the edge, completely at ease. The Falcon is no stranger to taking flight – jumping off of a fast-moving aircraft must be like child’s play for him.

“Alright, kids,” Sam says over his shoulder, smirking. “You ready for this?”

You shoot him a wry glance. “Not like we have much of a choice, do we?”

Bucky, deadpan as ever, mutters, “I hate this.”

Sam shrugs. “Then maybe don’t jump out of planes.” With that, he’s gone, wings deploying as he soars out of sight.

“What’s the plan?” you ask Bucky. He steps to the edge, glancing down at the forest far below. “I don’t need a plan.” Then he just drops out of the damn plane. No parachute.

“Are you kidding me?” you hurriedly peer at his figure, free-falling with his arms spread wide. “Fucking super soliders.”

With a resigned sigh, you check your own gear once and take a leap. The rush of wind hits you like a wall, and for a split second, you feel like flying. You spot Bucky below, just before he crashes through the trees. You brace yourself and land more gracefully, rolling through the bush.

You find Bucky sprawled on the forest floor, glaring at Red Wing which hovers over him. “You okay?” he croaks at you.

“Am I okay?” He’s going to be the death of you. “I’m not the one who jumped off a plane with no chute.”

You offer him a hand, and he stands abruptly, closing the distance between you. He’s so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him, his chest rising and falling with laboured breaths. For a moment, neither of you move. His gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes.

“Buck,” you murmur. “We have to go.”

“I –” he responds, his voice hoarse. “Be careful out there, okay, doll?”

Before the words can leave your lips, Sam’s voice crackles sharply through Red Wing, cutting through the moment.

“Hey, this isn’t a date, you guys! I might actually need backup.”

You both snap out of it, the heat between you quickly doused by the cold reality of the mission. Bucky pulls back, his expression shifting into a tight, almost annoyed glare as he steps away.

You shake your head, trying to refocus. “Right. Let’s go.”

“Get that thing out of my face, Wilson,” Bucky glowers, running a hand through his hair. “Before I break it in half.”

Your brows raise at his annoyance. Grandpa Buck needs to tone it down a notch.

Bucky says, “Send the bird ahead. We’ll see you in a minute.”

Sam’s voice patches through, “You two better not be slacking off back there –”

“Send it.”

There’s a sound of reluctant compliance as Red Wing flies off toward the warehouse, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet moment that follows.

You turn to Bucky, a smirk tugging at your lips. “I think you scared him.”

Before you can say anything else, Bucky grabs your wrist and pulls you in, so quickly you barely register what is happening until you’re pressed against his chest. His breath is hot and ragged, and then his lips crash against yours. It’s sudden, urgent – like he’s been holding back for too long and something just snapped. His hand cups the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. He tilts your head back to deepen the kiss, his tongue invading your mouth.

He moans softly against you, and the intimacy of it leaves you breathless. You grip his jacket, fingers curling into the leather as if you’re afraid letting go will end the moment.

But it’s over just as quickly as it started. Bucky pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes are dark, conflicted, but still burning with that raw need.

“We don’t have time for this,” he murmurs.

You bite back a smile. “Hey, you’re the one who kissed me.”

His lips twitch into that charming, crooked smirk of his, his hand dropping from your waist. “I know. And I’ll do it again. Later.”

“Later.” You nod once, tilting your head towards the warehouse and walking away.

But you stop in your tracks when his metal hand gently wraps around your wrist.

“I’m here, okay?" he says. "Whenever you need me.” He’s here, and you know it means so much more than this mission. He’s here, and Steve no longer is. He has seen your faraway looks, he has felt you closing yourself off to him since that night you shared. And he’ll be damned if he won’t do anything about it.

You smile knowingly, his genuine sentiment not lost on you. “I don’t need looking after, Buck. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can, doll. But I’ll always be here.”

2020, two years after the snap

After the snap, the world fell apart. Half of everyone in the universe was gone, vanished in an instant. The weight of that loss followed all of you, an ache that settled in your very souls. It took a while before you got back to work, and missions became a way to forget, a way to escape the unbearable nothingness.

Natasha stayed at the compound, keeping things together, but Steve… Steve disappeared.

He would check in from time to time, brief and distant, his voice hollow over the phone. It wasn’t enough. You missed him more than anything – more than anyone, and he wasn’t even one of those taken away by the snap. You craved his presence, the way he made the world feel less heavy. But you understood. Steve was tired of being Captain America, of being the one to make things lighter for everyone.

Everyone needed the Captain, the guidepost, the symbol of hope. But no one had thought of Steve.

The pain in his voice was always clear. He couldn’t face what happened, not yet.

So you drifted. Side missions took you all across the world, each one a temporary distraction. You spoke with Natasha when you could, exchanging updates, but Steve was always on your mind. She mentioned in passing that he was keeping an eye on you from the shadows, watching your progress, making sure you were alright.

It comforted you, even just a little. You wished he would reach out, because it broke your heart. Knowing he was out there, struggling just as much as you were, but still not ready to come back.

A year or two passed, and you found yourself in Alaska, far from everything. The cold, the isolation – it felt like the right place to be.

The cabin you shared with Steve had become a safe haven, tucked away from the rest of the world. For two months, you stayed there, lying low.

Until one night, when the one you’ve been waiting for finally came back to you.

The knock on the door was soft, almost tentative. Your heart lurched at the sound, knowing instinctively who it was.

After all this time, what was there to say? Before you could overthink it, you opened the door.

Steve stood there, snow clinging to his hair and jacket, his eyes dark and tired. For a long moment, the two of you just stared at each other, unspoken words hanging heavy.

“Hi,” he said, voice low and broken.

You stepped aside, letting him in. He entered, lingering near the door, and for a moment, you wondered if he’d regret coming there.

“Steve…” you started, but the words faltered. What could you possibly say to him? That you missed him? That you understood why he left, even though some part of you resented him for it?

But then, he collapsed into your arms.

The weight of him hit you all at once, his body trembling as he buried his face against your shoulder. His arms wrapped around you, desperate, like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. You felt the sobs wracking through him before you heard them. The tears came hard and fast, his entire body shaking with the force of it, and you held him tighter, grounding him to you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, angel.”

“Shhh,” you soothed, your hand gently rubbing circles into his back. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry, Steve.”

He didn’t listen. “I failed you,” he said, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “I failed everyone.”

The torment in his voice was palpable, and it cut deep. You knew this wasn’t just about the snap. It was about everything he’d carried, the guilt he felt for not being able to save the world, for not being able to save you from the aftermath.

“You didn’t fail anyone,” you murmured, even though you knew he wouldn’t believe it. “You did everything you could.”

It didn’t matter. He still blamed himself.

This wasn’t the Steve Rogers the world saw – the stoic, unbreakable Captain America. This was a man who had lost too much, and for once, couldn’t carry the weight of it anymore.

The days that followed were quiet, but not uncomfortable. Steve stayed, though he never said how long he planned to be there. A routine developed quickly – small, domestic tasks that gave structure to the silence.

Mornings were spent in front of the fireplace, sipping coffee and staring out at the snow-covered landscape. Afternoons involved gathering wood, fixing small things around the cabin, and sharing brief conversations that never quite touched on what either of you really felt.

At night, the silence felt louder. Steve sat on the bed, his hands clasped together, staring at the floor as if it held all the answers he didn’t have. You knew he was hurting, but he wouldn’t let himself show it. Not yet.

It wasn’t until the fourth night that the tension between you finally broke.

It started with a touch – your hand brushing against his as you passed him a cup of tea. The contact was brief, but it sent a jolt through you both.

Steve’s eyes lifted, meeting yours, and for the first time in days, you saw something other than guilt in them.

Desire. Longing. The same raw emotion you’d felt for months.

He set the cup down, standing slowly as he stepped closer. “I missed you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I tried to stay away because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought… I thought I didn’t deserve to come back.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Steve…”

“I’m so tired of running,” he finally admitted, his voice breaking. “I just want to be with you.”

The space between you disappeared in an instant. His lips crashed against yours hungrily, like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. You responded just as fiercely, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. Everything melted away in that single kiss, and all that remained was the frantic, aching need you both felt.

Steve’s hands were everywhere – on your waist, sliding down your back, cupping the curve of your ass. The kiss deepened, and you stumbled into the bedroom, your bodies tangling as you fell onto the sheets.

“God, I missed you,” he rasped against your lips, “I thought of you… of this… every night.” His hand slid beneath your shirt, calloused fingers brushing against your skin, and a shiver ran through you.

“Steve… don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I need you.”

He growled softly, his eyes dark with desire as he hovered over you. “You have me, angel. You always had me.” His lips moved to your neck, trailing heated kisses down your throat, and you moaned loudly, your hands gripping his sturdy shoulders.

Steve’s breath hitched as he pulled your shirt over your head, followed by your sweatpants, and underwear. His eyes raked over your body like he couldn’t get enough. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his voice filled with reverence.

He hurriedly rid himself of every piece of clothing. You felt his hard, thick cock slapping against your pelvis as his mouth found yours again, hot and insistent, all tongue and teeth. He pulled away to pepper nips and bites along your jawline, all the while the slick of his tip left a trail across your torso, causing a rush of torturous heat in your stomach.

Your hand slid downward, guiding him to breach your entrance, and the slightest nudge of his hips forward was enough to drive you wild.

“Fffuck, angel,” he cried out.

“Language,” you teased, biting your lip.

“Oh, fuck it all to hell,” he retorted, his breath warm against your neck as he pressed kisses along your collarbone. You giggled at the fervour in his voice, and at the way he seemed to lose himself in you.

“Fuck everything but you, angel,” he murmured, lowering his head to suck at your breast, wet and eager. The sound of his lips popping free echoed in the room. “Fuck everything but us.”

“My, my, the mouth on you, my Captain,” you replied, your heart racing.

“Aw, shut up,” he grinned, his tone endearing.

“You’ve got something that can shut me right up,” you shot back, your voice dripping with flirtation.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathed the command against your lips, his eyes locking onto yours, filled with intensity.

“... want you, Steve,” you whispered, the words barely audible but laced with longing.

“Good answer,” he growled, and the world blurs away, as he suddenly thrust into you, his length burying deep inside your wanting pussy, your walls stretching around his sizeable girth.

His pace was unforgiving, a primal rhythm that made you gasp each time he hits home. “You feel so fucking good,” he rasps, each word punctuated with lust.

“Just like that, don’t stop,” you urged, your nails dragging along his shoulders, his thick arms, his back.

“Never gonna stop,” he promised, his voice rough as he picked up the pace. You could feel every inch of him deep inside you, pounding relentlessly, igniting all of your nerves.

“God, you’re everything,” he breathed as he slumped against you, his forehead resting against yours.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, wanting to drown in the intensity of the moment. “And you’re mine,” you panted, every ounce of longing pouring out in those words.

“All yours,” he promised, capturing your lips once more in a sloppy kiss.

The tension built until you could hardly breathe, and when you finally fell over the edge, it felt like the fragmented remains of the universe collapsed, leaving only bliss in its wake.

You lay entwined in the sheets afterward, your bodies still humming with ecstasy. You turned to face him, your heart still racing as you prepared to ask what you had been wondering.

“Why’d you come back?” you asked softly, your vulnerability shining through as you searched his eyes for the truth.

“Do you even have to ask?” he replied.

You waited, holding your breath, hoping for the words that would ground you.

“I will always come back to you, angel,” he whispered, his gaze earnest yet shadowed by a pain you both felt. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The world was whole again, pieced together by the man in front of you.

He was broken, and you knew it. But in that moment, you held onto the hope that his promise was true – that he would always return to you, no matter how far he drifted.

For the next month, the cabin became your world. You and Steve healed, or at least attempted to, together. The nights were filled with whispered words and soft touches, and the days passed in a blur of quiet contentment. But you both knew it couldn’t last forever. Reality waited for you outside those cabin walls.

Eventually, the time came to leave. You both drifted apart, returning to your missions, but the cabin became a place you’d return to, a refuge when the world felt too heavy again.

And Steve – he found himself again, slowly but surely, returning to Washington to help the survivors rebuild.

Until everything changed once more. Thrust back into yet another war, a switch flipped inside him as he faced even more losses, including Tony and Nat.

In the chaos of battle and grief, you lost him to a web of memories and the pull of his past. To the promise of a life of peace, a life without a fight waiting just around the corner.

The cabin, once a haven, became a ghost – a haunting reminder of what was and what could have been.

I will always come back to you, he promised.

And he did. Until he couldn’t anymore.

Read part nine here ~

taglist (let me know in the comments if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx @mrsevans90 @heartarianagran @tinystarfishgalaxy @mochibochinochi @spngingerbread21 @zbeez-outlet @rena15 @raging-panda @marveldaydreamer @integers @imthebadguyyy @iidear @blackhawkfanatic @smhnxdiii @nommingonfood @loki-laufeyson68 @queenofshinigamis @samkickikc @utterlyhopeful-fics @mthealy @angelbabyyy99 @rabbitrabbit12321 @cloudroomblog @haruvalentine4321 @pommblog @yujyujj @thetorturedbuckydepartment @sanoorie1 @cjand10 @micasaessakusa @croftyspock90 @froobaloob @mavrellover91 @dexter99 @barnes70stark @ordelixx @radiantdanvers @chaotic-wanda @mrsnikstan @otterlycanadian @baw1066 (continued in comments...)

Some notes in the margins...

I know I promised more Bucky, but we had to see what happened with Steve and our heroine during the lost years. There was so much to cover, but I condensed that time here. So, the reunion will actually be in the next part!

Steve is going to keep his promise after all! That tortured bastard almost made me cry while writing 😭

But it's going to be far different this time. Bucky is here to stay, and there's nothing anyone can do about it <3

#the bolter #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #chris evans #sebastian stan #chris evans x reader #sebastian stan x reader #mcu #captain america #the winter soldier #marvel #steve rogers smut

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l0vergirlwrites · 6 months ago

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how do i know it’s true? ; steve harrington

synopsis: to steve, nothing involving the upside down could surprise him after everything him & the gang have gone through. until you get taken by vecna—the worst thing steve has ever witnessed.

warnings: swearing, mentions of trauma, blood & injuries, anxiety, possibility of dying, possession, general angst & vecna (yes, that creepy dude needs his own warning). but don’t worry, there’s fluff scattered in between.

note: this fic is inspired by the blue nile’s “the downtown lights” (let’s pretend it came out before season 3 plz) & phoebe bridgers’ “garden song”!

for a moment, everything was fine.

well, your definition of fine was watching your friends climb up a makeshift rope of bed sheets from the upside down gate in eddie’s trailer. you couldn’t help but let out a few laugh sat their reactions when they landed on the mattress eddie had placed beneath the gate as a landing pad.

this was your normal now; casually going in & out of dimensions to solve supernatural puzzles & attempt to save the day all while wondering if you were ever going to finish your algebra homework (you secretly knew you wouldn’t ever find the time).

steve, being the helpful man he’s known to be, was kneeled on the ground with his hands cupped so he could hoist each person up towards safety despite his abdomen aching in pain from bat bites. he truly was your hero.

when it came to be your turn to climb, you couldn’t help but run a hand through his hair.

“chivalry sure isn’t dead, huh?” you ruffled his locks of brown & amber, feeling your heart beat a second faster when he smiled & scrunched his nose cutely at your action.

“definitely not when it comes to you” he winked smoothly, feeling pride in his chest when you grinned wider at him.

“okay, time to hop on up miss”

gripping onto the rope of sheets, you felt a pit in your stomach start to build, but steve tapping the back of your jean covered thigh snapped you out of it.

“i gotcha, don’t worry” he assured with a determined look in his eyes.

like hell he was ever gonna drop you.

so with a nod of your head, you lifted your left foot onto steve’s cupped hands & felt him push you up.

but then everything went black.

at first, you thought your nervous system may of just forced you to shut your eyes in fear of going head first & falling upside down through the gate (you still could not fathom the physics that explained how it worked), but to no avail, all you saw was black.

soon enough, you couldn’t feel the rope.

you couldn’t hear steve or your friends talking.

you couldn’t feel steve.

now, you were starting to panic.

just as you were about to scream, you felt something sharp on your neck. a long nail dragging across your skin too softly to break the skin. the hairs on your arms stood up, goosebumps littered your body, & all you could do was freeze.

“i think you know why you’re here,” a chilling voice whispered into your right ear, making you cringe as you felt the creatures warm breath fan against your skin.

vecna had you trapped. fuck.

“you know, living with the guilt you’ve harboured for so long must be quite exhausting—isn’t it?”

no, no, no, no. this can’t be happening.

“knowing that if you had kept your mouth shut, your anger controlled, that maybe—just maybe, your father would still be alive”

in a flash you were transported back to that haunted day, back to that road trip that your father forced you to go on. you never had a good relationship with him to begin with, so being stuck in a small space for seven hours wasn’t your ideal way to spend a weekend.

it was a few months after your parents finally divorced after years of fighting, screaming, family dinners that were unsuccessful. your father had wanted to bond, to atone whatever trauma he had inflicted upon you as a young child from refusing marriage counselling (or counselling in general) to work on his behaviour.

but as expected, he was too prideful to admit he was ever in the wrong.

which leads you to that moment in the car.

he blamed you for whatever wrong turn he had made a couple miles back, & since you were the one holding the map, it began a screaming match that festered into a tug of war. you tried to get him to let go of your wrists, to let you lead you both out of the barren forest covered dirt roads so you could ge to wherever the hell he wanted to take you to, but he wouldn’t budge.

however, one wrong move changed it all.

it was when you elbowed him the eye accidentally, causing him to yell in agony & involuntarily push his right foot harder on the gas. he wasn’t paying attention to his speed, nor the way the steering wheel was turning.

one minute you were on a dirt road.

the next you were upside down on a rocky ditch that was at least thirty feet from where the dirt road was.

your vision was blurry with blood from a cut on your forehead. your right ankle aching & smushed tight between your car seat & the concaved passenger door.

your father, who hadn’t worn his seatbelt, was partially through the car’s windshield, body covered in glass & blood & you couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

you stayed like that for hours, with the car alarm blaring in your ears until a first ranger showed up as your saving grace.

but your father didn’t survive. & you still believed it was all your fault.

“wouldn’t it be nice if you could let it go? atone for what you did? stop the guilt from eating away at you?” vecna’s voice boomed in your ears.

you were paralyzed in fear, praying this moment would be over.

*~*~*~***~*~~*~*~**~*~*~~*

“you got a good grip, y/n/n?” steve asked after you stilled for a moment, left foot still in the palms of his hands, waiting to be boosting upwards.

you stayed silent. frozen.

steve called out your name again as your grip loosened on the rope & your body began tipping backwards. he quickly reacted, catching your limp body in time before your head smacked the ground.

his heart stopped when he saw your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“no… no, no, no, no! fuck! please, please not you—not you” steve yelled, his hands cradling your face & occasionally slapping your cheeks gently with hopes you’d snap out of it—hoping vecna would let you out of his grasp so steve could make it better.

“steve? what’s going on down there?” robin yelled, her voice echoing into steve’s ears but his heart was constricting & his chest felt really heavy.

“he’s got her—he’s fucking got her & she’s not waking up!” steve yelled again, tears brimming his eyes in fear because he could lose you right now.

brushing your hair out of your face frantically, steve continued tapping your skin. “sweetheart, you gotta wake up. it’s steve—i’m right here. can you hear me? c’mon—come back to me, baby” he croaked as the minutes went on, drowning out the panicked voices in the gate above him.

“what do i do? what do i do—“

“steve! what’s her favourite song? we need her favourite song!” dustin yelled repeatedly, trying to wake steve up from his own panic mode.

it clicked—how could steve forget.

music.

“holy shit. that’s it. favourite song, favourite song…” steve began to feel hopeful, scouring his mind through a rolodex of memories until he found the one he was looking for.

“the downtown lights by the blue nile! the cassette’s in my glovebox! hurry!” he yelled with a heartbroken plea, his eyes not leaving your face. “c’mon, baby. wake up”.

steve didn’t care that he was crying now, but he wasn’t gonna give up on you. while the others were searching through the glove compartment of steve’s b&w & eddie’s stash of cassette tapes in case, steve just started to sing the song in hopes you’d hear him.

“sometimes i walk away, when all i really wanna do is love & hold you right…”

his voice was cracking with nerves, failing to stay completely steady as his chest hurt & his hands were trembling against your skin.

“there is just one thing i can say. nobody loves you this way,” he held back a sob, his heart clenching at how your eyes continued to roll back. “it’s all right. can’t you see, the downtown lights…”

~*~***~~~**~***~*~~***~**~*~

steve learned your favourite song early on when you started dating, around mid october after starcourt fell, where you invited steve over for a sleep over since your mom went out of town for a weekend.

he knew you hated sleeping in your house alone after the events of the summer, so he didn’t mind keeping you company. you both had sprawled out on your living room couch, coffee table filled with pizza, pop, & your favourite treat (which steve picked up on his way over as a surprise). the movie on the tv had become background noise by the time you both had finished eating, bodies turned to one another underneath the blanket you two shared.

“so, when am i gonna get a room tour, hmm?” steve asked as he brushed some hair away from your forehead, fingers tucking some starnes behind your left ear as you looked at him as if he had hung the moon.

“i’ll show you under one condition, harrington”

“i’m all ears” he said eagerly, scooting closer to you on the couch.

nervously, you raised your left index finger to your lips & tapped them, eyes flickering between steve’s brown ones & his pink lips. he watched you closely, getting an idea of what you wanted (which made his stomach roll with butterflies).

“ahhhh” he dragged with realization, “want me to kiss you? is that it?” he teased, making you feel smaller than you really were under his gaze.

but before you could turn away or back out, steve was cradling your cheek & bringing you closer to him. his breath fanned your skin, noses lightly brushing against the other.

“i really wanna kiss you too” he mumbled with a smile before leaning further to close the gap.

you hummed in delight when your lips pressed to his, fingers fisting the material of his sweatshirt because it felt so good. steve could hear his heartbeat loud in his ears as he continued to kiss you, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek to make you melt under his touch. the longer his lips meshed with yours, the more your body had moved to practically sit on top of his, chests just touching as your arms trailed up to wrap around his shoulders.

“steve” you breathed, pulling away with a pant but still staying close.

“was that too much?” he asked concerned, chest rising up & down as he looked at you with care.

it was you who kissed him next, one that lasted a few seconds before resting your forehead against his. “n-no—it was really nice” you exhaled with a smile, arms tightening around him when you felt his left hand resting on your lower back, rubbing up & down soothingly.

you both hasn’t realized that the movie was over & the channel had switched over to music videos. playing softly in the background was a song you had a deep spot in your heart for. turning towards the tv with a tiny gasp, you smiled harder when you saw that it was the blue nile.

“that’s my favourite song!” you whispered excitedly, turning back to steve when he tapped your cheek.

“what song is it?” he asked, not having too much knowledge about them.

“the downtown lights” you replied sheepishly.

“there is just one thing i can say. nobody loves you this way,” you hummed along to the lyrics with a small smile.

steve watched you, admiring how your face looked with the tv glow casting on your features. he thought you were just the best thing ever.

turning up the volume with the remote in his hand, steve listened intently to the lyrics, right foot tapping against the carpeted floor to the beat. “it’s really pretty—just like you” he said, smiling brightly when you chuckled at him.

“that’s so cliche, but thank you”

“cliche but true. & you’re welcome”

~**~*~~*~***~**~~**~**~

after he let the memory replay in his mind, the cassette tap for the band’s album “hats” landed by steve’s feet with a walkman & a headset.

“finally!” steve yelled more so to himself, brushing away a stray tear on his cheek to grab the items

first he put the headphones over your ears. then he attached the tape to the player & forwarded the tape to the song’s track number. turning the volume up, steve’s hands resumed their spot on your face to hold you, to coax out of whatever horrific trance you were in.

“hey, can you hear me? it’s steve, your steve. you gotta wake up, okay? you gotta come back to me” he begged, his hope growing thin as the seconds went on.

“everyone’s here—dustin, lucas, max, robin, nancy, eddie—we’re here. we want you back. we need you. i promise i won’t do anymore stupid impressions or be an idiot—i’ll be whatever you want me to be” steve continued to ramble, praying that you were listening, that you were coming home to him.

“i-i love you. & i can’t do this without you” he cried to you, not caring if any of his friends heard his love confession in the moment because you were still limp in his arms.

he could vaguely hear the yells of his friends trying to talk to you too, trying to lead you back to reality. but all steve could focus on were how your eyes continued rolling into the back of your head.

it wasn’t until the song was about to restart on a loop where steve felt your arms twitching, your chest raising up & down rapidly. before he could even blink your eyes returned back to normal, lips letting out panicked breaths as you scanned your surroundings, hands about to push steve’s away until you saw him.

“s-steve?” you asked wearily, voice feeling small & fragile after the return to hell you had just experienced. “w-what… i-i don’t understand…” you were at a loss for words, confused & scared.

“it’s me, honey—i’m right here. it’s okay now,” before he could finish, you were hiding in his chest, hands gripping the jean jacket he wore so tightly in fear that this was another trick. that maybe you weren’t safe & vecna still had you.

you sobbed hard, breaths becoming strained with each cry that tore through you. every time you closed your eyes, you were back there again—back in that god forsaken car with bloody vision & your father dead. back where vecna told you your worst fears.

“you’re safe. i’m here now. god, i was so worried—ohmygod” steve rambled assurances, cradling your head close like he was in disbelief too, making sure that you were really back in his arms.

surprisingly, the headset was still secured to your head, downtown lights continuing to play from the foamy speakers into your ears. the song calmed you down a bit, made you feel grounded. but it was steve’s touches, the smell of his cologne, & his soft whispers that called you home—back to reality.

“is this real?” your broken voice asked, needing to make sure it was really him.

so steve pulled your head back to hold your face in his hands. he smoothed the sweat, the baby hairs, the tears, & splotches of dirt off your skin, giving you the kindest look you’ve ever been given. “ yeah, i’m real. i’m not gonna hurt you. i gotcha, yeah? won’t let anything hurt you again, promise” he swore with honour, his own lip trembling when your eyes continued to well up with tears.

“god, i love you” he pressed his forehead to yours, exhaling a shaky breath when one of your hands pressed against his chest to feel his heartbeat.

that was the most intimate thing he’s ever felt.

“i love you too” you mumbled back to him, pulling him in for another bone crushing hug to say all the words you wanted to in the moment. steve got the message loud & clear.

#steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington is a sweetheart #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #celebrities #joe kerry x reader #joe kerry #joe kerry imagine #joe keery djo #stranger things netflix

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cressidagrey · 5 months ago

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The Ties that Bind - Chapter 5

Summary:

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings:

Mentions of Child abuse and neglect, Cassian feels horrible, Azriel gets a broken nose and for once, Rhys is actually not that horrible?!

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

For as long as Cassian could think, his brother had the unfortunate habit of not actually talking about his problems. Cassian liked to complain. Azriel never did, regardless of what went on in his life.

He stayed silent, seemingly thinking that even the slightest annoyance was something that he deserved for some god-forsaken reason.

So it shouldn’t actually surprise him that Azriel decided to go completely silent. He should be well used to it by now.

And still, Cassian worried.

“Anything new from Az?” he badgered Rhys during dinner, who just sighed.

“No.”

Mor was already rolling her eyes because he already had annoyed her during this week. He had not gotten a proper answer out of Mor either, because Mor had absolutely no clue where Azriel was or what he was doing. Amren had threatened to behead him if he asked her again if she knew anything and had then decided that not showing up for dinner was probably in her best interests, so Rhys was his next, long-suffering victim.

(Nesta had threatened to geld him, and he was kinda taking her threat seriously, so he had already exhausted that avenue of enquiry as well…and Feyre knew nothing as well.)

“And he really didn’t tell you what it was about?” Cassian wheedled, and Rhys just fixed him with a glance.

“I don’t know any more than what you do,” Rhys gave back. “You know how he gets sometimes. It’s better to give him time, we learned that the hard way,” Rhys said reasonably.

It was true.

They had learned that the hard way. It was much better to give Azriel the time until he came to them on their own until they were in the mood to badger him until blood was drawn.

The problem was just, that Cassian didn’t want to be reasonable.

“Normally we know that something is going on. It’s out of character for him to just…demand time off so suddenly,” he shot back.

“Then I imagine he has a rather good reason for it,” Rhys sniped, rolling his eyes.

“He’ll come to us when he’s ready,” Mor said with a shrug.

That’s what Cassian worried about. That Az was going to come to them when he was ready and not when he actually needed help, which promised to be far earlier.

“It’s not about Rosehall, is it?” Cassian asked suddenly. Was this about Azriel’s mother?

“Cassian, I really don’t know any more than you do,” Rhys said with a sigh.

Fine.

And then, just like somebody had summoned him, Azriel stalked through the door of the Dining Room.

Looking none the worse for wear, which was good…but also looked like he was getting ready for a war, shadows ominously swirling around his shoulders.

Before Cassian could even open his mouth, Azriel fixed him with harsh hazel eyes. “We need to have a talk, Cassian. Outside now.”

It was said so coldly, so evenly that Cassian froze.

“Why outside?” Feyre piped up curiously.

“Chances are, either Cassian will try to kill me or I’ll kill him. I don’t want to get blood on your rugs, so outside,” Azriel answered, not a spark of humour in these words.

“What have I done?” Cassian tried for levity but failed horribly, even as he stood.

Something had happened. And it must have been horribly, otherwise he couldn’t Otherwise he couldn’t…he couldn’t explain what had happened to Azriel.

“I hope to the cauldron nothing,” Azriel answered, his voice quiet, before turning on his heel, and going outside.

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a look of foreboding, though they weren’t the only ones.

Feyre and Mor were jostling for the best viewing position, while Nesta watched the whole thing with crossed arms, clearly thinking that Cassian must have been an idiot or worse…though he really had no idea, what Azriel could be so upset about.

Rhys demanded that they both handed over all the knives they wore, and to his surprise, Azriel not only handed over Truthteller but every other single knife he kept stashed on his body to Rhys without a word…well, that wasn’t particularly calming either.

”Hit me with it. What the fuck is going on?” Cassian asked with a sigh.

“I need to ask you a question. And I need you to answer me truthfully,” Azriel told him, his arms held tightly at his side, wings flaring.

“Yolanda Negrescu.”

It was a name.

“Who?” Cassian asked, coming up…completely empty.

“You don’t remember her?” Azriel asked him, staring at him like he was very much doubting Cassian’s ability to breathe at that moment.

“Should I?” He asked with a grimace.

“You slept with her, Cassian,” Azriel said, his face unmoving like marble.

Oh. He wrecked his brain. What did it say about him that he still kept up completely empty? He had no clue whatsoever who that had been. What Yolanda Negrescu may have looked like…

“Around 20 years ago,” Azriel offered up. So it had been during the Sealing of Velaris. Right. That narrowed it down. If one wanted to call his near-nightly trip to Rita’s or another pleasure hall that…

“You really don’t remember?” Rhys asked from the sidelines and Cassian growled.

“I have slept with a few dozen people in over 500 years. I highly doubt you still remember every single one of your conquests, Rhysie,” he groused. “So I slept with her, 20 years ago. What does it matter?” Cassian asked Azriel with a sigh.

“She’s dead,” Azriel said evenly.

“That’s…sad,” Cassian responded with a sigh. “But I don’t really know what you want from me here, Az?” Why did this result in Azriel coming here and demanding to speak to him? Why had this Yolanda even come up in Azriel’s work? What had happened to Yolanda Negrescu?

Azriel closed his eyes for just a moment, before they opened again, his resolve clearly hardening.

“She died in childbirth. 19 years ago,” Azriel said carefully. “Her daughter‘s Illyrian wings shredded her from the inside out.”

For just one moment it felt like he couldn’t properly breathe anymore.

If he had slept with her 20 years ago…and 19 years ago she had died in childbirth…and the child had Illyrian wings…By the cauldron.

No, this couldn’t be.

This was impossible.

“What?” Nesta spat out.

“Are you sure?” Rhys asked, his voice careful. Azriel just inclined his head.

This shouldn’t be happening. Cassian had always taken a contraceptive draught, he had never even thought about the possibility…he had never even…What?

How could…

A child? A daughter?

He hadn’t known about her. He had never…

She had grown up a bastard, just like him, hadn’t she?

The one thing he has always promised himself he wouldn’t do, father a bastard, and he had managed to do just that.

Not for 500 years, but clearly then his luck or his care had run out and he had saddled the poor girl with…he had killed her and hadn’t even been aware that he had done it.

And she had died giving birth to his daughter.

“I…I have a daughter?” he asked, his voice shaking, staring at Azriel who was still watching him.

“You didn’t know,” Azriel said flatly.

Cassian just stared at him. “What? No, of course, I didn’t know!” he snapped.

If he had known, everybody would have known. He would have never tried to keep his daughter a secret from his family! She would have been his, damnit!

Not thrown away like garbage, like he had been, but treasured and protected.

How could Azriel even think that he ever…

“How did you find her?” he asked Azriel weakly. “Where did you…”

How had Azriel come across her? The first time that evening, something like emotions flittered over Azriel’s face, just that Cassian couldn’t place them.

“I met my mate.”

He blinked, twice.

That was the last thing Cassian had expected after the news of that evening.

But it was good news, wasn’t it?

“You met your mate, Az?” Rhys asked, clearly surprised and Azriel nodded. “But that’s fantastic news! Where did you…“

And then the pieces seemed to come together for Rhys and Cassian at the same time.

Cassian’s wings flared. Pure protectiveness turned into rage enveloping him.

“Azriel. Tell me that your mate is not my daughter,” he spat out. A gasp of surprise, either Nesta or Feyre or Mor…but he didn’t care.

Azriel, his brother, met his gaze square on. It was all the answer he needed

“I am going to fucking kill you,” Cassian growled, as he attacked.

It had been a good call from Rhys to insist on them handing over their knives because like this it only ended in a wrestling match, that probably ruined half of Feyre’s landscaping.

Though he did break Azriel’s nose.

It did not really make him feel better. Especially because he just knew that Azriel had let him get that hit in.

“Don’t even think about laying a hand on her,” he growled, still throttling Azriel.

“Too late for that,” Azriel growled right back, every inch the freshly mated male.

It just fired on that protective fury. “She’s my daughter!” Cassian bellowed. “She’s still half a child!” Azriel had no fucking right to lay one fucking finger on her! She should still be…

“She’s an adult. Otherwise, the mating bond wouldn’t have snapped. Feyre was not much older than her,” Rhys gave back with a sigh. “Cassian.

“And that makes it right?!” Cassian snapped. “Azriel can’t have known her longer than a few hours!”

“Cassian,” Rhys cut him off once again. “She’s his mate. None of us told you to keep away from Nesta.”

“Fuck you,” he seethed. “She’s too young! She probably didn’t even have a clue what she was doing!” Azriel flinched, not saying a single thing and Cassian fixed him with a glare.

“You aren’t even trying to defend yourself,” Cassian realised. “You think the exact same.”

Azriel wiped the blood off his face as Cassian let off him. “She’s fucking traumatised, Cassian,” Azriel said sharply. “I didn’t even think about how bad it was until after.”

He nearly went back to throttling Azriel if Rhys didn’t intercept.

“Is she alright?!” Cassian demanded sharply.

“Physically? Mostly,” Azriel answered, shaking out his wings as he gained his feed. “I fished her out of a mountain lake after she tried to fly. She had a fever but that has disappeared.”

“She can’t fly?” Rhys asked, shocked.

Azriel shook his head, a muscle in his jaw feathering.

“Her grandmother raised her after her mother’s death. She spent her childhood locked in her grandmother’s attic. Her wings were bound to her back so tightly that there is scarring.”

All the tension, all the anger at his brother bled out of Cassian like somebody had hit his carotid artery. An attic.

His daughter had spent her childhood locked in an attic with her wings bound.

She had never had the childhood everybody should have…something like the childhood Nyx got to have these days…of wonder and happiness…Instead, she had been locked into a small dark space, with her wings, the pride and joy of every Illyrian bound to her back so tightly that it had scarred her.

Somehow that seemed just as bad clipping her wings.

“And mentally?” Rhys asked the question he was thinking.

“It could be worse,” Azriel admitted. “She‘s quiet. Halfway Feral. But sweet,” he assured him at Cassian’s startled look.

“Obviously Cassian‘s daughter,” Mor managed to bring out, a joke that fell flat.

“It gets pretty obvious once you realise it. She smells like you,” Azriel said quietly. “Just she has a tint of vanilla to her scent you don’t have.

“And otherwise….?” Cassian asked, shakily.

“She can’t read or write,” Azriel said quietly. “She expects everybody to be out to hurt her. Which isn’t far from the truth, because she got an employer that ignored the minimum wage and a landlord that offered to let her pay for her apartment on her knees.” He spat out the last few words and Cassian wanted to vomit.

She was…she was his little girl.

And she had been…she had been treated so abhorrently.

“What’s her name?” he asked Azriel. “What…”

“Her shadows named her Cilla,” Azriel answered quietly.

Cilla.

But only when Rhys pulled in a sharp breath did the rest of Azriel’s statement register.

“She’s a shadowsinger - just like you,” he realised weakly. Azriel just inclined his head.

Of course. Of course, Azriel hadn’t thought twice about accepting that Mating Bond. Not when Cilla was the one female in all of Prythian that could probably understand his brother. Not when she was the only one who also had this strange ability…

“You know what that means,” Azriel said quietly.

He did.

He swallowed, nausea building in his stomach when he reflected exactly on what it meant.

“What does it mean?” Nesta demanded, and he swivelled around, staring at his mate, who crossed the space between them…that reached out for his hand and squeezed it. “What does that mean for her?”

“It means that she spent so much time alone in the darkness that the darkness decided to talk back to her,” Azriel said, his voice painfully even. “Shadowsingers are made, not born. Most don’t survive their adolescence, driven mad by the sound of the shadows. Others… others find comfort in it.”

Cassian had never asked, but he knew which of these two possibility were the case of his brother. “Cilla only had her shadows for company for half her life. For that she is…surprisingly sane,” Azriel admitted freely.

“You said her shadows named her Cilla. What is her real name?” Nesta asked.

“I couldn’t find a birth certificate,” Azriel admitted quietly. “I only found her mother’s name through house-owning records…Her shadows gave me her former address, I checked who owned the house…I found her grandmother and her mother.”

“What did her grandmother call her?” Cassian asked, but Azriel just shook his head.

“You don’t want me to repeat that,” he told Cassian near painfully soft.

“Who does she look like?” he demanded next, trying to come up…trying to come up with what her mother, what Yolanda had looked like and came up empty, once again.

“Your hair but curlier. The shape of her eyes is you. Nose and mouth must be her mother's but her forehead is all you as well,” Azriel answered. It didn’t help. It didn’t…make it possible for Cassian to imagine…what his daughter, what Cilla must look like.

“And where is she?”

“My house,” Azriel answered quietly. “I…told her that I would get answers for her. She doesn’t know that I know you, but I…I asked her if she wanted to meet her father,” he said carefully and Cassian swallowed. “She wanted to know if her father knew that he signed her mother’s death warrant when he slept with her. And if he knew that she spent the better part of two decades living in that attic.”

“I didn’t,” he pledged. “I didn’t know,” he repeated desperately. Azriel just inclined his head.

“I know,” he answered with a sigh. “I didn’t think you knew…but I needed to make sure.”

Azriel’s eyes were asking for understanding and Cassian understood it.

Azriel was still in the throes of these early days of a freshly mated Male. Overly protective, overly territorial…it was a wonder that he hadn’t outright slaughtered Cassian for a perceived slight against his mate.

“What…What happens now?” Cassian asked shakily. What…

“What do you want to happen now?” Nesta asked him calmly. “She’s your daughter.”

She was. But Nesta was his mate, and Azriel was his brother and…

“She’s your daughter. The only opinion that matters is what the two of you want,” Nesta said carefully, looking at him, with these beautiful grey eyes and he could see the stark honesty in them.

She reached up to cup his cheek.

“She’s your daughter, Cassian,” she repeated, her voice soft. “We’ll deal with it…together.”

“I want to meet her.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #my writing #the ties that bind #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction

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kishibe-kisser · 1 year ago

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They realise they love you (Cyno, Dainsleif, Itto, Tighnari)

Tags: Cyno x gn!reader, TCG, Dainsleif x gn!reader, nightmares, mentions of trauma, Itto x gn!reader, mentions of discrimination, Tighnari x gn!reader, talks about plants.

Cyno: "Wait, no, how did you do that?" You asked, tossing the rest of your cards on the table in confusion. He was trying his hardest not to smile as he saw you're frustration. Cyno had just absolutely wiped the table with you in TCG and he thought it was hilarious. "That had to be cheating?!" You added on, in complete disbelief.

He loved this, playing TCG with you on a day off while sitting in the living room. He loved it even more that you had asked him to teach you how to play, your level might not have been that high yet but that didn't matter. It was fun to play against you and see the shock on your face when he whipped out a new trick.

"Totally within game rules." He nodded and you shook your head. Cyno found himself needing to hide the slight blush on his face, all happy because of how into the game you were getting. "Okay, we're doing this again and you're gonna show me how to do that." You said and started reshuffling your deck before grabbing the dice. Leaning over the table, Cyno kissed your forehead while holding onto the back of your neck. "You're so cute when you're frustrated."

Cyno loved that you took the time to learn something he enjoyed and threw yourself in head first, he loved you for it.

Dainsleif: He hated himself for it, how most of his nights were still plagued with nightmares about the things he had seen. He also hated how every night he went to sleep he hoped it would be different, knowing it wouldn't be. Tonight went exactly as you'd expect, Dain shot up from his bed and looked around the room. Clutching his chest, breathing heavily as you slowly woke up next to him. That was the worst part of it all, the way it effected you at least in his mind.

"I'm sorry, go back to sleep." He knew he sounded gruff, but he couldn't stand the thought that his problems were effecting you. "Now you know I can't do that." You yawned, rubbing your eyes and leaned into him. "Do you want to talk about it?" He appreciated the question and he knew that you already knew the answer.

"What can I do for you?" You asked, gently wrapping your arms around him. He took the initiative to lay you both down and burry his face into your neck. "Just this, nothing more."

Dainsleif loved knowing you would be there when his answer would change, when he would be ready.

Itto: While most of the stigma around Oni's had been cleared, sometimes Itto would come across someone who was mean or simply didn't understand. The mean people were easy to deal with, he'd simply be mean in return but the people that didn't understand, that was different.

"I'm scared." A child murmured to his friend and you and Itto wandered past. When it was kids it hurt his feelings even more and you knew that, stopping in your tracks to kneel besides the child. "Scared? Of an Oni? That's so silly!" You smiled, looking back at Itto who looked confused. "Oni's don't hurt people, especially not this Oni." You explained and he felt his chest ache as he looked at you and this child.

"Here, he'll even let you feel his horns." You said and picked the kid up, lifting him to Itto's impressive height. "See kid! I don't bite." Itto said, bending his neck so that the child could gently touch his horns. The kid laughed as Itto shook his head and hair like a mane, loving the sound of both you and the kid laughing. "Nothing to be scared of." You added on, smiling at how silly he was.

Itto loved how you always stood up for him and helped people understand him, he was absolutely in love with you.

Tighnari: He found it hard to concentrate on his notes as he watched you browsing through his books, reading through the information about plants and animals all located in the forest. It wasn't like you were being annoying while doing it, no he just couldn't concentrate because of how cute you looked.

"What can you all do with Rukkhashava mushrooms?" You asked, wandering over to his desk and showing him the plant from a drawing in his book. Tighnari smiled, taking the book from you and looking over the page. "A bunch of things, personally I like cooking with them the most." He said, pulling you into his lap as you continued to flip through the pages.

"What about this?" You asked pointing to another type of plant. "Why do you want to know my dear?" He asked, kissing your cheek gently. You looked at him with a shrug, shutting the book as you did so. "Well, you spend your days with all of these things and have all of this knowledge about it all... feel like I should know some of it too. It seems important to you." You admitted, watching him hide his face in your shoulder to hide his blush.

You took interest in his work and made sure he knew he was heard, he loveed you for it.

A/N: some harmless fluff to reign in the weekend. This was special req from a friend.

#genshin x reader #cyno x reader #cyno #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif #itto x reader #itto #tighnari #tighnari x reader

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readychilledwine · 8 months ago

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The Prettiest Fuck You

Summary - After the birth of Rhysand and Feyre's 3rd child, Tamlin sends a coded message with the help of his mate

Warnings - slight jealously, mentions of breeding, little IC slander, Tamlin is in a goofy mood

Prompt Day 3 - Mate/Flower Language

A/N - just a short little silly for @tamlinweek I'm so excited for the masterlist for today to pop up. I'm going to eat it all up. I fell in love with the idea of a fuck you bouquet after several reddit posts and a few on here, and Tamlin would seriously love to send one. I just know it.

Tamlin Masterlist

You blinked at Tamlin as you looked over the list of flowers that he had given you. Fox glove, yellow roses and carnations, Cyprus, babies breath, and marigolds?

Insincerity, congratulations, disappointment, death, and jealousy? You put the list down on your work table, silently hoping it would somehow magically disappear under the thousands of stems and ribbons from all the arrangements you had worked in today. “Tamlin-”

“Just do it.” He tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed your nose, trying to convince you with that signature smile.

“Tam-” You wanted to object to what the bouquet said, even if you would be able to make it absolutely stunning.

“It's fine.” Both hands were on your face as he kissed you softly.

“Ta-”

“It will look beautiful. You make everything so beautiful, dearest.” You couldn't help the soft smile. His words were not a lie. You were the most sought-after florist to the 7 courts for a reason.

You shook it off, focuing again. “Tamlin, this is-”

“Perfect to congratulate them with!” He walked away from you, chuckling as he did. You had little choice. It was a done discussion.

Your mate wasn't a bitter male all the time. Life shined in those bright green eyes, and they were always full of wonder, amazement, love, joy. But the Lord and Lady of Night announcing the birth of their 3rd child and waiting for the praise and attention that was bound to come with it? That made Tamlin bitter, sick, angry.

He had been too stuck in himself, too trapped in years of trauma, to offer Feyre the life he had offered you. One safe from any duties you did not want. One safe from politics. One where you were free to give him a child at any point. One where a family was wanted, but in due time, instead of an expectation to prove your court was moving on.

You were not Tamlin's symbolic incubator. Your womb was not meant to be used to send a message. You were his wife, his love, the one he showered in red roses and baby's breath, a sign of his eternal love and devotion. You two would have children someday. You would have an army if he'd allow it. But for now, until this lingering bitterness passed, you two would just continue to learn and grow together.

You went back to the task at hand

Gathering the buds he had requested and inspecting each and every single one to ensure its perfection and beauty. If you were going to do this. You were going to do it so well that Rhysand would not come mist your mate and then trap you in that damned Stone City. Tamlin learned through you to speak through flowers when they were sent as gifts or placed in his home. He had learned to say congratulations, to say his sympathy, to say his love, to show support. He had learned a new form of expression through you, and as intricately laced and weaved the flowers he had picked into an arrangement, you realized you thought him too well.

The flowers were beautiful, varying shades of yellows, oranges, whites, reds, and you had mixed your favorite feather-like greens in. It seemed so innocent to anyone who didn't know what the flowers symbolized, the language they spoke. It said “Fuck you and die,” in the most beautiful way possible.

You signed as you picked the vase, enchanting everything to last and stamping the card with the sign of the Spring Court, a rose and thorns. You sent it, hugging yourself slightly before walking into your shared room. it was quiet behind that door, and when you opened it, you could not help but to smile.

Centered on your vanity sat a bouquet of White tulips, red roses, and red spider lily. You knew immediately who they were from, who had made the arrangement, and who may be missing her favorite flowers from her garden.

It was stunning. Shades of red and white mixed with greenery that it was so perfectly balanced. It was huge, occupying most of the corner it sat on. He had surrounded it with poetry and chocolates. "Tam," you took one of those soft roses in your hands, smelling that familiar scent and sighing so happily.

You jumped as arms went around your waist, and kiss was placed to the side of your head. “How did it turn out?” His voice was laced with pride over his own creation.

“Gorgeous. I wouldn't make it any other way. Regardless of what you wanted it to say.”

“Elain lives in Day now, right?” You hummed and nodded. “But she will come visit them, won't she?”

“Of course.”

“Perfect. Perfect. And how about your flowers? How did they turn out?” Your mate, so handsome and strong, tended to need those compliments, and you were eager to hand him praise.

You turned into him, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. “So beautiful. Thank you for including Spider Lilies. This has to be the most stunning arrangement you've made so far." You touched the spider lily, fingers lingering on the off shoots as you did.

“Growth and new beginnings,” he whispered the meaning to you and watched as you nodded, looking up at him through watering eyes.

“And purity and true love.”

“To symbolize us, y/n.”

“To symbolize us,” you repeated.

Rhysand placed the bouquet from Spring centered on his table. He always admired y/n's work. Yes, Elain did wonderful things with flowers, but centuries of practice and studying had allowed you to create masterpieces with the blink of an eye. He smiled before walking away. Leaving a stunned Elain and Lucien to silently laugh.

Her mate leaned into her ear, red hair falling over her shoulder. “He really out did himself with this one.”

Elain had tears forming, “She made it so beautiful.”

“Do we tell him?”

“No,” Elain fixed the flowers from where they had been resting on Rhysand's chest. “Let Tam have this. I have enjoyed him alive lately. His gardens are exquisite."

"You're exquisite," Lucien squeezed the now supple hips of his mate, loving their new plush. "We should really visit soon."

"We should."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

#tamlinweek2024 #tamlinweek 2024 d3 #tamlin x reader #tamlin x you #tamlin x y/n #lucien x elain #elucien

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fandomsnrambles · 9 months ago

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The spinjitzu family has recently become my roman empire for some reason, you’re all going to see so much of them 😭

Anyway, i’ve been thinking about his relationships with his sons recently. And I know he doesn’t have a good relationship with any of them.

I know people argue ‘Wu was his favourite’ but i think if we actually look at how he acts, you realise he didn’t really have a favourite. I also feel personally inclined to respectfully mention that just because Garmadon said it, doesn’t make it true. Characters have biases that mess with their worldviews after all. It’s like saying Wu’s to blame for the devourer’s bite because he said he was. Even though he was like seven, maybe nine and had no idea that snake even existed.

Thats why you should take everything they say with a grain of salt and then consider their actions.

Wu’s relationship with his father is complicated. In the spinjitzu books he mentions how he wants his father’s approval, but doesn’t know how to start with getting it. We also get hints of the FSM’s (flawed) parenting methods in the show. I’ve noticed he’s emotionally distant even if he’s physically there. I mean, Wu says his father talked to them (Garmadon and Wu) less after the Aspheera incident. Makes me think that the FSM was definitely not there emotionally.

Due to this, Wu’s emotional needs as a child weren’t really met. His fathers distance hurt him and the FSM (maybe accidentally) neglected him. I say accidentally because i’m pretty sure the FSM is a traumatised child soldier who doesn’t know how to properly cope with everything so they just shut down/dissociate.

Wu was also raised with high expectations (alongside Garmadon.) This probably put him under a lot of stress to keep up. I’m thinking gifted child who got burnt out and more depressed as he aged.

I also think the FSM has trust and paranoia issues. You can look at Nineko and the way they went about dying for this. This guy really hands their son a script of where he died without telling him he gave it to him and mentions the bare minimum details. (I wonder if mentioning too much details got the FSM hurt. Maybe thats why he’s so distant.) Of course, trauma doesn’t really excuse being a flawed parent.

I also feel the need to mention that Wu unintentionally copies his father’s trauma responses. Heck, we could even talk about how Garmadon does the same, and later Lloyd. They all bottle their emotions and issues and hope nothing bad ever happens with that ever. Too bad for them though, we know how this ends

(Oof this is ✨generational trauma✨ at work)

Moving on to Garmadon, we know that after he got bitten by the devourer, the FSM helped him through his episodes and tries his best to find a cure. From this i can honestly say that the FSM did love and care for his sons. But this doesn’t mean they knew how to properly show that they did (especially because he doesn’t have a proper basis for what parent-child relationships should even look like.)

We see this when we get to know of Garmadon’s insecurities as a child. He doesn’t think there was anything wrong with him and seems to hate how the FSM tries to find a cure for him. Maybe because he doesn’t like the implication that he needs ‘fixing’ more than anything else. Garmadon’s also different than Wu in the sense that he grows more resentful of his father as he grows older whilst Wu clings to his father’s attention to get approval/praise.

I also want to mention how this resentment built up also affects how his perception of Wu’s relationship with their dad. He thinks Wu is favoured probably because Wu doesn’t have the venom and is the good one (because the venom apparently makes Garmadon the ‘bad’ one) and he sees his younger brother as the golden child. This probably built to jealousy and then guilt for the jealousy because Garmadon does love his brother a lot.

The high expectations also come’s into play here. It probably puts a lot of weight on Garmadon’s shoulders. Which doesn’t make his growing feelings of resentment better nor does it make his insecurities about his venom any better.

What makes this whole situation worse is that NO ONE in this family knows how to communicate. Wu doesn’t tell his dad or his brother how he feels, Garmadon doesn’t as well and FSM wouldn’t be caught breathing a word of his feelings to be honest.

This whole family would rather die than communicate ffs.

In conclusion:

#ninjago #sensei wu #lego ninjago #ninjago wu #lord garmadon #ninjago garmadon #ninjago lloyd #kinda? hes mentioned #master wu #sensei garmadon #garmadon #ninjago fsm #fsm ninjago #first spinjitzu master #ninjago first spinjitzu master #btw i hc he/they pronouns for the fsm #along with aroace #spinjitzu brothers

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robin-the-enby · 1 year ago

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Black butler Ciel with a older sister who rather spend more time reading, writing, spend time in her imagination, or her own self interests than run the company. She has her own business of running a successful book series.

Pairing: Ciel Phantomhive x older sister!reader Warnings: mentions of past trauma (not descriptive) A/N: Thank you very much for the ask and, as usual, I'm so sorry for the delay. If you don't mind, I decided to write this as headcanons. Also, the relationship between Ciel and the reader is strictly platonic. I have decided that I will not write romantic Ciel works anymore, because he's a child. And while I did have a crush on him when we were the same age, I have moved on and it would be highly inappropriate, I believe.

I think it's safe to say that you are very important to Ciel. You are his last living relative after all.

It doesn't matter if you're close or not. I don't think Ciel would appear to want to be close to anyone, even a relative. But that isn't really the case.

Now, he's definitely not clingy. He's self-sufficient, maybe a little too much. He definitelly doesn't need to rely on you.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't like to spend time with you. On the contrary. And since you are the quiet type, it makes spending time together much more comfortable for him.

He would be the type of person to do his own thing and let you do your own, just...in the same space. He could be sorting paperwork in his office, but you would be there as well, just a few meters away from him, scribbling down in a notebook on drawing in your sketchbook.

It's comfortable, it's quiet, and it means the world to him. If he looks past the age difference (and that little voice that tells him that maybe your roles should be exchanged), he almost feels normal. And that type of peace is very rare in his life, so he takes any and every chance to spend time with you like this.

It was very strange to him though, mostly at first, when he returned to the mansion. The way you are so different. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that you have no interest in the family company, or that you rather spend time in your own head than in th real world.

He does get the appeal of that, it's just that he thinks it's...foolish. He is a logical person, who always thinks ahead, to rule out any possibility of others taking advantage of him again. If he submitted to the luxury of running away from the past that still haunts him, he would achieve nothing.

But the more time he spends with you and the more he integrates himself back into the regular world (as regular as it can be for him at least), he sees that you're many things, but not foolish. Yes, you're a dreamer, perhaps a bit naive, but not stupid.

In the end, he prouds himself to be your brother. You have a great imagination and sometimes you help him more than you could imagine. If he has a case to solve, you help give him an outside look into things from a perspective he could never even imagine.

He appreciates your art as well. It would depend on your style and whether or not you were spared the torture he went through to determine how much, but he definitely appreciates it and thinks it's beautiful. If your style is a form of self presentation, translation of your shared traumas and deepest feelings, he might like it just a smidge more.

When you present the idea of publishing your own book, he is definitely on board. He likes to read your stories anyway, he can't see why others wouldn't enjoy it. He would definitely help you find the best publisher and arrange the best deal for you (with a little help from Sebastian, if needed).

When your book becomes a hit in London and the readers as well as critics start asking for a sequel, he feels proud. Proud of himself, for helping you make your dream come true, but mostly proud of you. For not conforming to expectations of others, who would assume you'd take over the Phantomhive company, but instead following your dreams and working hard to make them come true. It is that kind of strength he really admires. But of course, he knows how the world works and so he thinks his help was neccesary (and would continue to be in the future).

In the end, you have sort of a symbiotic relationship. Whenever you need anything for your work, Ciel gets it for you. Art supplies, sketchbooks, he can get you anything and you best believe it'll be in the best quality as well. He also helps you make deals with potential publishers or anyone who is interested in your work, making sure no one tries to scam you and that you get the most benefits from your labour.

In return, he asks for nothing. You already give him everything he needs from you. Your company. He gladly takes on the task of managing the family business, if it means that you can still sit by him in his study, scribbling away, as if nothing in the world had ever gone wrong.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #black butler headcanons #headcanons #ciel phantomhive #ciel phantomhive headcanons #ciel phantomhive x y/n #ciel phantomhive x reader #black butler ciel #sister reader #older sister reader #fluff #black butler fluff

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traumasurvivors · 11 months ago

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Here’s a link to a blog post on my personal website on a topic that I think is very important.

I’ve also put it below the read more for people that don’t like external links. But if you're okay with it, checking it out on my personal website is really nice (and even giving it a heart if you can)! I don't make money from my website, so there are no intrusive ads or anything like that to stop you from reading the article.

Embracing Your Inner Child

This applies to anyone, but I really want to emphasize this to my fellow survivors who went through trauma as children and/or teenagers.

I’m so sorry you lost part, most or all of your childhood. That doesn’t mean it’s too late to give your inner child what you can. This includes comfort but it also includes doing the things you didn’t get to if you can.

Play the fun games. Buy the tasty treats. Go on adventures.

It’s never too late to feel a little more of the kind of joy you had (or should have had) as a child. You may not be able to be a child again, but you can still help and support your inner child.

You might have been told that a fun idea you had was “silly” or even “stupid.” When you have those thoughts now, instead of rejecting it, embrace the “silly” idea and let yourself enjoy it. It’s not shameful or wrong to do the things your inner child wants to do. It’s okay to be “immature” sometimes, even if you’re twenty years old. Or thirty. Or sixty. I just want to say that I don’t think any of this is immature, but I know that is a bias and judgement a lot of us might pass on ourselves.

A short, not at all complete list of things you might do for your inner child:

Watch childhood movies or tv shows (Did you watch “Blues Clues”, or “Pokemon”? Maybe “The Land Before Time”? There’s no reason you can’t still enjoy them.)

Listen to “silly” music, maybe singing along or dancing to it (for me, one favourite is “I Just Can’t Wait To Be King” from The Lion King. I know every word and have a dance party everytime it comes on my shuffle.)

Go to the park and use the swings (I don’t know why, but flying up just a few feet can make me forget all my “grown-up” worries)

Have a treat just because (maybe that big sundae your parents never let you have, or the chicken nuggets you haven’t had in a decade). Maybe you want to fulfil your childhood dream of having ice cream for breakfast!

Go to the toy store - maybe even get some stuffed animals or other toy items. (I just recently realized that I can fulfill my childhood dream of collecting certain toys that I never got to have when I was younger!)

Ride a roller coaster and scream your head off on the way down (I like to try to be in the very first car)

Make creative, crafty stuff - like a painting or drawing, or decorating a picture on construction paper with googly eyes and glitter or a clay model with a weirdly shaped head (even if the result looks like something you’d expect to see in a kindergarten class, or the process makes a mess that looks like a glitter bomb went off)

Another aspect of embracing your inner child is trying to give your inner child the person you needed when you were a child.

This might mean standing up for yourself when others try to put you down or take credit for things you’ve done, even (or especially) if no one else spoke up for you when you were a child.

It might mean offering comfort and compassion to yourself, and not being too hard on yourself when you make mistakes that you would have been insulted for as a child or don’t know something that “everyone learns as a child.” Maybe now you can teach yourself that accidents happen, and spilling a drink or breaking a plate is not the disaster and failure of character that you were told as a child.

It might mean being patient with yourself when something is harder to do than you feel like it should be (whether you actually aren’t able to do it as easily as others, or you have unrealistic expectations of its difficulty because of the expectations put on you as a child). There are lots of instructional videos out there to help you to gain basic cooking or cleaning skills. If you never really learned to read, there are programs to help you. If you weren’t allowed or able to learn to manage your emotions or relationships in healthy ways, there’s help out there for you. There is absolutely no shame in not learning any kind of skills you feel you “should” have learned as a child, and it is okay to learn them as an adult.

You may have had to grow up too fast. You may not have been allowed to do the fun things. You may have suffered trauma that shattered your childhood. I’m here to tell you that you still have an inner child, and embracing that inner child is good for you. Just because you’re an adult, at any age, doesn’t mean that you’re too old to have fun.

No one else gets to decide what’s right for you - you get to decide what you enjoy and what you want.

And it’s never too late to remember, indulge, listen to, and embrace your inner child. Let them be a part of how you choose to move forward. It’s time for us to realize that there is no one way to be an adult, and we get to decide what being an adult means to us. And if that means I want to rent a bouncy castle for my birthday, then that is my perfectly valid version of an adult birthday (a birthday which my inner child would be thrilled about, by the way).

#my blog posts #embracing your inner child #my post

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sepublic · 2 months ago

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You know a dynamic I’d love to see more of? Willow and Odalia.

Because Odalia is directly, intentionally responsible for all of Willow’s trauma; As was Alador, but he seems to be more of an enforcer like Amity was, not making that decision because he’s apathetic about the situation in Escaping Expulsion and even holds Odalia to her word. So while he went along (and I’d like to imagine Willow having VERY mixed feelings on him for a while), Odalia made that decision to begin with.

Boscha already bullied Willow, she didn’t need Odalia to tell her to and we have no indication there was any order; But I imagine it wouldn’t have hit so hard to have Amity as a friend to defend her. But to have Amity leave her, reinforcing Boscha’s assertions of Willow being Half-a-Witch? And then becoming friends with Boscha, just to show she’s found someone better, that person who hurt her? It must’ve made the pain felt tenfold.

And we see how years of loneliness and cruelty genuinely wore on Willow’s psyche, becoming legitimate trauma that she struggled with until the penultimate episode of the series! And all because of this adult singling out this child specifically, deciding she’s not good enough. It’s so cruel to target and even threaten her to their daughter. What are these grown-ass rich people going after a lower-class kid for?!?!?

When Odalia sees the photo that Amity has, it’s not just Luz she’s taking issue with, it’s also the presence of Gus… and Willow, who was specifically forbidden from the start. So it also comes back around to Willow in a way, and her friendship with Amity returning, a promise we see come through in S2B.

How does Willow feel to see these adults come after her, all over again?! Amity promised to stand up to Boscha, but not her own abusive parents; That’s something Willow couldn’t even do with her loving dads, it’s no wonder she didn’t expect that from Amity. She must’ve been reorienting a lot of feelings towards Amity, knowing she did care, was coerced, felt she was protecting Willow and in a way she was! She was protecting her future, but then so was Harvey and Gilbert. And it still frustrated Willow deeply to have these people choose that over Willow’s actual happiness.

But amidst beginning to forgive Amity, Willow was also reorienting her feelings towards the Blight parents; Because while she might’ve thought of them as having an influence on Amity’s decision, now she knows they directly chose and forced it for her. In their presence, Willow reverts back to the same, meek insecurity she has around Boscha and Amity back when she was a bully. But outside of that, now Willow has to handle this newfound rage and resentment, because what’s wrong with you, that you have to go after me then and even now?!? All this time there’s been this looming specter she’s just never known about until now.

Odalia and Alador are right here, doing the same thing all over again. At least with Alador, Willow is there to see how he doesn’t actually care, which I imagine would contribute to forgiveness in the long run. But Odalia is insisting upon it and won’t let it go years later. And seeing Odalia actually follow through on that years-long threat towards Willow, as Amity feared, must’ve felt insane; The loaded gun she never knew was there finally went off.

Now Willow has to grapple with the consequence she agreed with Amity to face, and she’s not going down without a fight! She’s getting that reconciliation with her first friend and her future in a school she loves, and Willow musters up that courage when she sees Odalia getting into Luz’s head, making that call to find their own way to Odalia’s face.

Thankfully, Amity followed through on her word even more than she promised; She helped Luz, Gus, and Willow get back into school, Amity and Luz did most of that work for her. And it’s nice to not be the one supporting people or handling it by herself for once.

And I think of how Willow must’ve felt when Odalia no longer had any power over her, that the specter of the Blights no longer did; Nobody to fight, just… reconcile with. And Willow sees Alador do it with Amity, so maybe she feels more charitable towards him, enough to consider it as a future option. Willow resolves Hermonculus as another tormenting adult in her life, shoving it in his face that she’s not just good enough as a student but better than him even!

And when she found out Odalia was holding her kids hostage, I bet Willow found a little vindication in the opportunity to supplant her. So when it became apparent just how low Odalia was, being willing to aid in genocide under the delusion of benefiting from it, I wonder how surprised Willow really was, if she retroactively felt more threatened, or wasn’t going to be afraid any longer.

Nor would Amity and Alador, the latter of whom would become more sympathetic to Willow’s eyes. The satisfaction that must’ve come from seeing Odalia’s source of wealth collapse before her despairing eyes, when wealth was what she did all of this for, including targeting Willow… That must’ve coalesced into just grim pity for a woman who threw away everything to have it all. This was the one who did Willow so much pain?! In the end, Odalia was nothing to her now, Willow had more important things to worry about, like her friend.

Not to mention, I think of how Odalia would’ve had a confrontation with the kids in the finale, before it got cut presumably for time, and to make room for Camila to take her place. Better call in the end, but I can only imagine Willow seeing Odalia again by her lonesome, trying to go after another kid but thankfully failing. And after resolving the trauma Odalia started years ago, Willow decides to just smash her with a giant vine. Repeatedly.

I think Willow hates Boscha —and even Hermonculus— more due to dealing with direct bullying for years, because Boscha kept choosing to attack her even when nothing was at stake for her; Odalia at least left Willow alone once she got what she wanted, she wasn’t trying to be personal… Boscha and Hermonculus are definitely more personal enemies to her than Odalia, who is Amity’s abusive mother.

That said, I’d have loved a moment of Willow confronting Odalia and getting to be personal about it, at some point in S2 or S3; Odalia made it personal from the start, she singled Willow out. She’s been an enemy of the Parks, I can only imagine how Gilbert and Harvey felt if Willow ever cleared to them why she’s reconnected with Amity, how that happened. If Hooty was still aware even as a puppet, how good did it make Gilbert feel to crush Odalia beneath his weight and become a burden for her to struggle with?

For the other kids, there’s a connection; That’s Amity’s mom, Gus’ dad was friends with her, Hunter technically worked with her for a bit. But just as for Luz, for Willow it is only ever adversarial. Odalia took a while to single Luz out when she learned she was Amity’s girlfriend and not just part of a group of rabble, but these two genuinely dislike each other specifically, and it’s so unbalanced the nature of this dislike.

And if you really want to get speculative, what if Blight Industries is the reason why Abominations are considered more lucrative than Plants? Given the coven’s use of Abomatons, it could be a metaphor for STEM being used for military purposes… Which also means that Odalia’s ‘entrepreneurial’ take on Alador’s work led to Willow having to struggle in a track she hated, and be bullied by Hermonculus and Boscha because she was a fish on dry land. And if she ever makes that connection to Odalia, then it doesn’t matter if it wasn’t personal and indirect, not after the birthday incident…!

#The Owl House #Willow Park #Odalia Blight

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bibibbon · 9 months ago

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MHA chapter 420 rant

New chapter new rant it's become somewhat of a thing at this point 😭

So hori's out here deflating any stakes or tension as always. I personally hated what happend last chapter with Izuku losing both his arms but I did wish for hori to continue on the path he chose instead of completely reversing it with some bs in this chapter. Heck I don't understand how Eri even had enough energy to heal his arms considering it was stated chapters before that she couldn't and shouldn't help Izuku it wasn't her fight and neither should she be forced to watch what's going on but here we are.

Heroes are hypocrites when it comes to Eri and she deserves better. Oh Eri the ever so lasting plot device. As someone that likes Eri's character and wished for her trauma and what she went through to be explored this is just bs and shows that the heroes are incompetent hypocrites at their jobs for allowing Eri to mutilate herself (the same thing overhaul did to himself) so she can be useful to these people who she views as her saviours?!?!?! Let's not even tall about the fact that ECTOPLASM stated that he helped her with that and allowed her to do that like?!?!? You're an adult who is supposed to be supervising the child and you almost failed to stop her from running away into the battlefield but allowed her to do that to herself. Let's also talk about how aizawa horribly failed as a guardian like its clearly stated in the chapter that she did want she did because she was inspired by aizawa and how he cut his leg off so she mimicked him so she can be helpful?!?! Aizawa isn't angry, worried or disappointed but shocked and that's it nothing else he doesn't even reprimand her like seriously 😑.

Present mic and kurogiri deserves better. We still don't know where present mic is but he deserves better than this I still hate how his feelings aren't acknowledged in this bs and he is just there pushed to the side as support. Kurogiri is a mix at this point they seem to realise that oh oboro is dead he ain't coming back but kurogiri is acting on memories that haven't died and to be honest Iam sick of hori drawing the same memory panel over and over we should just get new content show us them play fighting or doing something that friends do idk 🤷‍♀️

Wasted potential aizawa at this point. I lasted made a post about aizawas wasted potential but dam does it really show and basically at this point hori reduced all the characters involved in the kurogiri situation to just that and it's sad like we could of had more and we should of. Aizawa was doomed from the start as he was hori's mouthpiece which sucks

Iam not a fan of everyone coming in to fight AFO. I already hate the fact that AFO is back but having everyone who hasn't had a big moment or can still fight yet come into the fight is horrible. Iam ok with having a few characters come in but having some endgame avengers type of thing is horrible especially because class 1A and izuku aren't shown to have a strong bond a lot of the time it's one of the reasons why the vigilante arc fails and why a lot of other moments concerning class 1A and izuku fail.

Iam a fan of the civilians trying to help however they can but no inko?!?!!?!!. I loved that we got the page of civilians genuinely wanting to help Izuku and offering their shirts to stop the bleeding also even though we don't get much from the all might guy I genuinely loved the development he has gone through. Sadly, I was expecting to see inko in this chapter and considering we had a whole page dedicated to the civilians it's sad that we didn't get any update on inko as she was probably there watching what happend to her son

Eri's dream. I loved that Eri's dream is something way outside of heroics and it's something that doesn't involve her quirk at all. It makes me remember of izuku holding her hand and telling her that he supports her dream. I wonder if Eri and jirou hang out often or anything considering that jirou is Eri's inspiration or if present mic also inspired Eri. it's sad that Eri's character is never truly explored considering what happend to her this chapter and the double standards that are with both heroes and villains.

ALSO MONOMA YOU DESERVE BETTER YALL TELLING ME THAT DENKI ALREADY QUIRK EXHAUSTED IS OUT HERE FIGHTING BUT MONOMA CANT FOR SOME REASON IS VILE

#mha critical #bnha critical #mha #hori is a bad writer #horikoshi critical #izuku deserves better #eri deserves better #mha 420 #bhna critical #bnha #i dont know #monoma deserve better #present mic deserves better #kurogiri deserves better

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maochira · 1 year ago

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Ways of being a father (Blue Lock)

Lyrics chosen and translated from Alligatoah's song Nicht adoptiert ("Not adopted")

Note: I didn't write something for every set of lyrics, but still wanted to keep some in to assign characters. Also thanks to @remy-roll for helping me a little 🫶 mwah mwah

gn!child!reader (reader is implied to be different ages in different parts)

If you're listening to this, you're alive, congratulations / I always knew you'd become more than a broken condom

Let's be honest, you weren't planned. Being a father initially wasn't part of his life plan, but then you happened. But he wouldn't replace you for anything in this world.

-Shidou, Barou, Karasu, Oliver, Noa, Ego, Raichi

Cause I don't believe in marriage you were born a bastard

-Oliver, Otoya, Karasu, Nagi

Sure, we love you, but there's a reason for that, kid / Nature arranges it like this so we won't kill you

Sometimes being a father can be frustrating and exhausting. But no matter how annoying you might get, his fatherly instinct always wins. In no way would he ever intentionally do harm to you.

-Barou, Ego, Kaiser, Raichi

It looks like you're family / Looks like it's just us now / We've got to get through it now, blood's thicker than beer / Sorry, you ain't adopted

-Lorenzo, Lavinho, Chris, Oliver, Karasu

I have no idea how to take care of children / But don't worry, I'll find a tutorial

He went into fatherhood completely without knowing what to expect. It all came a bit out of sudden for him, and he was too anxious to prepare himself properly. But when he held you in his arms for the first time, he knew he'd figure it out just fine.

-Nagi, Isagi, Bachira, Zantetsu, Kurona

The good thing is, I don't even have to share any knowledge with you / You can just read the wiki entry

-Nagi, Oliver, Zantetsu, Lavinho

I won't always be there for you, I have to party hard too / Did I say "party"? I mean "work"

Being a father doesn't mean that's the only part of his life now. He'll try to be there for you whenever possible, but there will be moments when he gets lost in other things.

-Otoya, Oliver, Karasu, Lavinho, Shidou

Joking aside, the ego-pig in me is happy that you are coming / Cause then I can play with Lego blocks

A part of him is still a child as well. And hey, being a father means he gets to play with toys again - that's something he can look forward to.

-Bachira, Shidou, Lavinho, Nagi, Isagi

Cause even though I'm putting effort and thinking about how / I can take the pressure off and still get you into bookstores / Something I do will lead to trauma, c'est la vie / I'll be the star of your psychotherapy, have fun

As careful as he is with you, he knows at some point he'll do something wrong. He's perfectly aware of how he won't always be the perfect father, but he's still trying his best.

-Barou, Ego, Noa, Isagi, Kunigami, Reo, Yukimiya

You're programmed for me, I'm programmed for you / Now we're sittin' here, I say now we're sittin' here / Sorry, you ain't adopted

He didn't choose to have you as his child, and you didn't choose him to have as your father. But still, you're perfectly made to be this role for each other.

-all of them.

You may not become president or student representative / Reality will throw your dreams in the chick shredder / I know what I'm talkin' about, life ain't no show

You won't achieve the greatest things in the world, and that's okay. You don't have to do that to make your father proud. He knows exactly what it's like to fail, and that's why he will always encourage you to reach your dreams, no matter how big or small they may be.

-Reo, Ego, Barou, Raichi, Kaiser, Tokimitsu, Yukimiya

You'll see my burdens, I've given them to you / If you think your genes are bad, they're Papa's genes / But you're my update, you can fix the bugs

You may not be a carbon copy of your father, but the similarities are undeniable - both the good and the bad.

-Ego, Barou, Shidou, Kaiser

In the beginning it's ambition like in a chess duel / You will emulate me until you outshine me / The balance of power is on my side - currently / But your chance is good, because Papa's withering parallel like a leaf

Being his child also means being his rival - in a fun way. If there's something to compete in, there will be playful competition. Board games, soccer in the backyard and running random races when you're just walking somewhere together - things like that.

-Shidou, Bachira, Karasu, Lavinho

This has to come out now 'cause later I won't be the same / When you're around I'm sure I'll write some corny shit / No more tasteless jokes, no more Hitler comparisons

He was more of an immature person before, but he knows after your birth he has to become more serious as a father - at least that's what society expects from him.

-Bachira, Oliver, Karasu, Shidou, Lavinho

I stand in front of the mirror and see a caricature / But I train every day for my father figure / I practice "La-Le-Lu" on the keyboard / And I subject myself to a motherfucking radio censorship / And I learn all the movie clichés, after birth / You'll get a wristwatch with your name engraved on it

At first, knowing he'll be a father soon felt so unreal to him. But the closer the day gets, the more the realization sets in. But that realization makes him nervous, so he's putting extra effort into learning how to be the best father he can be. And even though he doesn't want to be "like the other dads", he finds himself following every cliché possible.

-Zantetsu, Tokimitsu, Isagi, Snuffy, Yukimiya

Even though being strict clashes with my liberal nature / I'll pretend I'm interested in your Spanish exam

He doesn't care how much of a good or bad student you are, but he knows you'll have to pass school somehow. As much as he doesn't care about your grades, he pretends as if he does to keep you encouraged. But of course you'll get praise for your hard work when you get good grades.

-Isagi, Chigiri, Bachira, Ness, Yukimiya

I'll be mad at you for every adolescent booze story / But don't be afraid of me just because I fuck your mother

-Oliver, Karasu, Lavinho, Shidou, Raichi

I'm just an old cynic who writes frustration poems / But I swear I'll give it all to you till the end of my chapter

He'd do anything and everything for you. He will always make sure you feel safe and loved, no matter what age you're at. Even when you become an adult, he will always be your father and protect you as good as he can.

-all of them.

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vclvetfleur · 1 year ago

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Obedient Chapter 3

roman roy x fem! reader

Summary: You get invited by Roman to go to a party to celebrate Kendalls win in getting a new investor. But Roman's envious and jealous nature can't allow his own brother to be happy. He uses the party to ruin it leaving you alone to explore the party by yourself.

Warnings: implied child abuse and past assault, sexual dysfunction, talks of mental health, drugs and alcohol abuse, mentions of ED

Word Count : 4.5K

Notes: Wow. This was the most i've ever written. I think I need to go back to edit the warnings. Now that I have a kind of header for my fan fic now. I also do want to mention that I am going to make y/n a dominant person overall, but not in any sexual way. I also do want to mention again, this is a work comes for my own therapy and some of my own personality and traumas. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 3: An Original Paul Gauguin

You sped to the shower the minute you stepped into the apartment. You needed to get ready for this party. You turned the water on before checking it. “Ow!” You yelped, backing away from it and carefully trying to lower it. You lowered the shower head before grabbing your phone, going onto Spotify and playing whatever came onto your shuffle playlist. You left the phone alone as you finally went under the water. One of your favorites eventually came on, prompting you to sing along to it.

The shower was meant for two things, to finally get rid of whatever the fuck you put your hair through and removing all the makeup you had on.

And to just sing. It made you ignore your body as much as you would usually stare at it. You were particularly the most secure with what you looked like. It was a lot worse, but you were still making progress to appreciate it for what it even was. Most people told you that you were fine or that you looked good, but nothing really convinced you other than random hook ups that came in and out, but that only helped if they were even able to make you cum, which they usually couldn’t. You weren’t sexually inept, you hooked up with a lot of people, you were able to have sex. You even thought you were good at it by what you were told by countless suitors that walked in and out of your bedroom, just you seemed to never enjoy it or get comfortable enough. You always wanted to get over with it as soon as you realized it wasn’t what you were expecting. You’ve only had your expectations met a few times, enough to count on one hand. But regardless, it reminded you, you liked sex. Just you couldn’t find the right thing. It kind of made you jealous of your friends. Even Roman with how perverted he was, he seemed to actually be able to enjoy himself. If you took what he was saying as even truth, which you mostly didn’t. I mean who would text someone if they were saying they were going to an orgy?

You scrubbed down your body with soap once you finished your hair routine. You never knew what to put into it to make it look like everyone seemed to. Everyone liked your hair, but you just always thought it could look a lot better than it did. Midway into your shower you heard loud banging. You turned your water off and looked at the bathroom door. Who the fuck? You stepped out, wrapping a towel around yourself before leaving the bathroom. You checked your front door, seeing the stick that you got off of amazon to keep your door locked was still there. You removed it and unlocked the doors to only open it to see a tall and large man. “Roman sent me to hand this over to you.” He cleared his throat, avoiding looking at you. You nodded slowly before grabbing the box from him. You brought it into your apartment, setting it on your dinning/coffee table. “You should expect me again by 8:30. Roman wants me to pick you up before the party.” He explained once more before leaving. Weird. Why couldn’t this be done in a simpler way? Is he sending an assistant to his own assistant? You shut your door before grabbing your door stopper and putting it up against your door, locking the locks right after. You took a pictures of the box, sending it to Roman.

‘is this the box you sent to bomb my house?’ you tried to joke

‘bomb squad is on their way. thanks asshole.’

You went back to the bathroom, setting your phone on the counter. You wiped down your body and then ruffled your hair into the towel in an attempt to dry it. You quickly put on some underwear and a large shirt to get ready in. You hopped onto the counter, scrolling through Pinterest to find some kind of inspiration to do your look for the night. You watched as notifications from Roman flooded in. You couldn’t find anything good on Pinterest anyways. You opened Roman’s text, snickering at them.

‘no dumbass they’re what your wearing. pick something. but if you pick the ugly one your fired.’

You left the bathroom and rushed back to where you left the box. You grabbed a pair of scissors from your kitchen and opened the box up to see 3 dresses that were left in there. They were so plain. You never realized how boring rich people’s clothes were. Sure, celebrities and artsy rich people were fashionable, but not the others. Except for Shiv, she actually knew how to style whatever boring thing she put on her body to make it look good. You just decided on the less boring one before refolding the rest and putting them back in the box. You spent the rest of the night getting ready, making sure you looked professional, but loose enough for the party. You couldn’t be so uptight at a party, right?

You had been texting Jess the entire time, getting her opinion. She gave you all the advice you needed. She was shocked to even hear about your good day with Roman today. She assumed I would’ve lost it by now. She nearly has with Kendall. She has even mentioned to you a couple of time how much she wanted to quit sometimes, but she felt so much pity for Kendall. How could you not? Spending less than an hour with him made you realize how sad he was, imagine spending hours, day to night, with him.

Thank god, Jess was also showing up. She had to. She needed to make sure Kendall did nothing stupid that could be used to blame her for ‘not being there’. You were gonna at least have someone to attach to there. Before you knew it, you heard knocking at your door again. You had already gotten ready and just quickly grabbed your bag before answering the door. You double checked your belongings before pulling on your heels for the night. You opened the door and saw the same large man from earlier. You walked out, locking your door before following him out to his car. It was a brand new Rolls Royce. You got in to find it completely empty. It was huge. There was a little cooler in the back with a bottle for some liquor and mixers. You were too scared to open it though. You didn’t know if it was even for you to touch. You left it alone and stayed in the back, watching the city from the window. You were raised in New York. You just lived right across from Manhattan in Brooklyn. You used to be able to go down to the parks to stare at the skyscrapers at night and see all the light coming from it. It was gorgeous. Always has been. You could only really take in the beauty of it when in the car. You drove through most of Manhattan before finally stopping. You watched the driver leave before he opened the door for you. You moved over to step out to only realize the door wasn’t for you. It was for Roman. You scooted back over to your spot, maybe a bit farther too.

“Hey, looks like I don’t have to actually fire you.” He laughed before sliding into the car. He turned to the cooler, pulling out liquor from it and glasses that were set on the sides before pouring himself a glass. He looked at you and offered, but you decline. “Boo boring. Come on. Just drink. You can even watch me; I won’t date rape you.” He shook his head before making you a drink regardless. You sigh before taking the drink from him. He relaxed in his seat, looking off at you as you were sat up straight, holding the top of your drink avoiding his glare. You looked incredible to him. He admired his choice, but all the small ones you made to your appearance. Granted, his choice wasn’t that huge since you were the one in the dress, but he liked to take credit. His eyes wandered over you, knowing you weren’t looking at him to even notice how he was staring. Either way he was always on the radar of recovering from his actions. He took a sip before clearing his throat to get your attention. “So, did the bomb go off in your apartment? Womp womp. Looks like you’ll live with me.”

You nearly spit your drink up, looking at him shocked to even hear something like that from him. Or anyone in that regard. “Why would I live with you?” You attempted to wipe your mouth without ruining the lipstick you have one, even though you had more in your purse. “Y’know so you can do this assistant stuff easier.” He tried to make his case, but he knew it was idiotic.

“Roman, you can’t just-“You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose before taking a drink.

“Well, thankfully it was just a joke. Fucking crybaby” He whispered the last part to not annoy you any further.

Before you knew it, you were at the party. “Why did we need a car if it was only a few blocks away?” You asked before stepping out of the car with Roman. You just followed him to wherever he was leading you. “Cause I’m rich.” Was his only reasoning to it. You acted almost like a little puppy, following Roman around only because you knew you had to. There was no way you were going to even know how to begin a conversation with these people. “What’s the party for?”

“Uh- it’s some swinger party my brother threw together. You have your keys?” He turned back to you. You looked in your bag before putting your own hand out with all the fingers down except your middle one. “Hardy har har, aren’t you fucking hilarious.” He was unamused.

The elevator opened to the penthouse. It was a party for a win in one of their investments that they just had made, but parties were another way to bring in more investors and find more people to buy their business off of. You walked right behind him, looking around to find Jess. You couldn’t bare being here alone any longer. You weren’t alone technically. You were with Roman, but he didn’t seem like he was very much in a laughing mood with you anymore since you both stepped in the building.

Roman was planning to make the investors back out. All because Kendall made the deal instead of him. He needed to figure a way to make this a move on him rather than his brother. He needed a way to make Logan just pat him on the back for his work. This is all Roman ever did. He didn’t do work at the office because he saw no point in it. There was more use of his time. Meeting and having ‘fun’ at these stupid events were his way of making deals. It’s what he did. Informal. No rules. He was held to no obligation that the office had. “Uhh, why don’t you just go around and well, fuck off for a bit.” He asked you while looking way to distracted to even look at you. Your face dropped. You finally thought Roman was going to be a bit nicer now. But you thought wrong apparently. He was acting like a dick again. You just nodded and walked away. “Noted.” His head turned back to you; his lips pressed into a thin line. He knew it was mean, but he had no time to waste. He made a B line for the investors. And he did what Roman did best. Ruin his brother’s reputation to complete strangers and lose their trust in him.

You wandered around, looking at various art pieces on the wall. You enjoyed art, especially ones there you knew weren’t just copies of the original. It was like looking at a piece of history up close. You got lost in the painting before hearing someone talking to you. You looked over to see a tall younger woman with blonde hair. “It’s an original Paul Gauguin” she quietly said, looking your way after taking a moment to look at the painting. Her dress fell right above her knees and the collar sat right below her collar bone. It was a very vibrant blue velvet. It wasn’t too boring, you assumed. She let her hand out before smiling. “I’m Willa, I swear I think you’re the only person my age here.” She laughed before you took her hand. She seemed quiet; kept to herself. “Y/n.” You introduced yourself. “Uh so what do you do?” You prompted. At least that’s what you assumed people in this kind of environment said. “I write plays.” She said proudly. “Oh wow, anything I might’ve seen?” You began to question. She shook her head no before holding a kind of hurt smile. Willa was never proud of her own work. She use to do acting, but that wasn’t paying the bills nearly enough, so she decided to start escorting for rich guys before she realized she enjoyed writing a lot more than acting. But at least she figured out what she wanted to do with her life early enough. Her boyfriend couldn’t say that.

“That’s fine. Well when you do, I would love to get a ticket to it, are you writing anything currently?” Willa began to go into her whole passion project that she had just started working on before the conversation getting interrupted by an older individual. “Hi darling.” He smiled before wrapping an arm around Willa’s waist and leaving a kiss over her cheek. “Oh hi Con.” She said in an uncomfortable tone. She never really seemed comfortable around him. Always shifting away when he kissed or held her. Never prompting affection in the first place. “Connor Roy.” He started.

“Roy?” You questioned. “Are you their cousin or uncle or?” You wondered before getting cut off with an answer. “I’m Logan’s son.”

You looked shocked to even hear he had another son other than Roman and Kendall. In the entire week of working with them, you never heard of him yet. They never even quiet mentioned another brother. They just mentioned Shiv. “Oh well it’s nice to meet you. I’m (y/n).” you tried to be as likable as you could after the awkward interaction.

“Oh, you’re Rome’s assistant, right?” He asked. You nodded, puzzled on why he even knew he had a new assistant. How much do they talk? “Ya, dad told me about you.”

Logan Roy knew who I was!? I never even had met him yet and he knew who I was. I had passed by his office and had been in eyes view, but I never actually met him. Willa looked at you like she knew something you didn’t want to hear. You were just still in shock of someone as big as Logan knowing of your existence to the point, he mentioned me by name to someone else. “What’d he say?” You asked.

“Oh, it wasn’t anything on you. Just more about Roman. He was just going on about how he thought Roman was being reckless again and just- “Connor went on before halting know he should stop. You just nodded slowly before tapping a waiter on the shoulder and grabbing a drink from their hands. You downed it quickly before excusing yourself. Holy fuck. This was big.

You needed to find Jess immediately.

You looked around for her before spotting Kendall. He didn’t seem to good. He had already had quite a few drinks in him. If Kendall was near, so was Jess. Before you knew it, you spotted her. “Jess.” You whisper screamed before taking her arm. “You are going to shit your pants when you hear this. Logan knows who I am. He was talking about me to fucking Connor. Did you even know they had another brother? I didn’t! What the fuck?” You were panicking. What could Logan have possibly been saying? Sure, he was talking about Roman, but why did I need to be brought into it? Fuck.

“Hey, relax. It’s okay. He probably just seen you walking around. That’s all.” She tried to assure you it was okay. She took your hands and tried to remind you to take easier breathes. “See.” She smiled before continuing to breathe with you. She had seen you at such low points that she knew exactly how to pick you up from a slump. Not always, but before they started, Jess was the person to call to help you. You were upset she never studied Psychology; she’d be great at therapizing people. Hell, she basically does it for Kendall now.

Your nerves were still shot, but better than earlier. “Uh- can we get a drink please?” You asked. She nodded before holding your arm and guiding you to the bar. You ordered yourself 2 drinks, both for yourself. Jess just got herself a wine. Jess stopped over drinking after working with Kendall. His issues scared her enough that she felt like she needed to be sober to deal with any situation. She drank from time to time, just never when she knew Kendall would need her. And after his relapse, she couldn’t afford to get drunk. She needed to make sure her boss didn’t end up like a real life BoJack Horseman.

You downed your drinks as quick as possible before finally settling on some champagne. You knew to keep your pace. “So, what’s wrong with Kendall?”

“The investors backed out. He tried to talk to him, but there was no convincing them. I don’t know. The poor guy just needs a win.” She sighed, watching him to make sure he didn’t act out.

“So, this is what was stressing you out so much.” You finally realized why Jess had been having so many outbursts outside of work or just seemed a lot more stressed in general. She was a lot more anxious. She was on edge a lot of worrying Kendall was gonna send her a text to make her worry about what was gonna happen next to him. “You have no clue. This is barely anything I went through. This is a tame night dealing with Kendall. At best, I’m just going to make sure he gets into bed tonight.”

“Aww are you gonna tuck him in and read him a story?” You laughed. She tried to hold her giggling before lightly nudging your arm. “No, but you might soon with Roman’s insane mommy issues. But honestly thinking about it, that might make him hard.” She sounded grossed out at the idea before laughing along with you.

Speak of the devil himself. Roman finally decided to actually have fun. He seemed a lot more off edge. He probably just took a molly in the bathroom or something. “Aren’t you supposed to be babysitting him?” Roman asked Jess before sitting at the bar with the two of you. “I’m an assistant not a babysitter Roman. You should know that you have one now.” Jess was unamused. She had a hatred for Roman. Most people did. But she saw him as someone who was actively trying to ruin Kendall. Which he did, but especially after Kendall’s relapse.

Roman was there when Kendall relapsed. He ran to even get him and help him out. He was scared for him. But after all that went down in the deal and all that drama that came with it, Kendall and Roman were once again strained.

“Yea, but this one is kind of defected. Might need to get it fixed at a factory or something. Oo should I get the new model?” He pointed at you. It really sunk in that Roman believed you were an object. You quietly sipped your wine. Jess knew how annoyed you were though. She could read you easily. Your jaw was clenched tighter, and you got this disassociated gaze when you got annoyed. “Kind of hard to do my job when my boss spends most of his morning making sure the cum in his hair dried up enough to hold for the rest of the day.” You shrugged. He couldn’t even begin to know where to start with mocking you for that comment. “Look just cause you’re… a commoner, doesn’t mean you don’t understand what mousse is. And no, not like the animal that Kendall clear looks like.” He giggled behind his drink before watching Kendall make a complete ass of himself.

“Okay, he just called me a commoner.” You whispered to Jess. You tried to breathe in and out slowly before losing your cool.

“Huh? What was that? I don’t speak church mouse, speak louder than that.” He put his hand on his ear, leaning closer to you to understand what you said. He was insisting you repeated yourself. He actually didn’t hear you. But he did like hearing all the insults you were willing to throw back at him. He thought you seemed to take his jokes well enough.

“I said you’re a fucking dick.” You said blankly to his face, looking at him directly. Your face stone cold as you gave him the meanest look you had.

“Ooo scary.” He wiggled his fingers. “Oh no. The peasant- “he tried before you had gotten up and stormed off away from him. That was enough. You came to the party to see what he needed if he did need you, but he made it clear enough you were here just to be embarrassed and humiliated by him. Who else would? No one was his friend anyways. Jess got up quickly and followed you. You headed out on the balcony. Most people were inside anyways. And the cool air felt good. “Hey, don’t take what he says seriously; that’s just how he is.” She tried to rationalize.

“Ya, if so, people gotta stop making excuse for that fucking prick. Who the fuck is he to act like that? Just because daddy gives him the money and fucking bull dogs to do so? Nuh-uh fuck him. That was- UGH!” You clenched your fists as you tried to hold back from screaming. “I don’t care. Fuck him.” You paced back and forth. “Fuck that dude. Dirty fucking unwashed little ferret.”

Roman had decided to look for you too. He might’ve crossed a line with you. He didn’t mean to. He knew he could be harsh, but he didn’t ever mean to come across as that bad. He never knew what was too far in all honesty. All of his boundaries were broken down since he was a kid, so he no longer had any. He knew his would be unlistened to and broken, so he assumed everyone else’s were too. He stepped out and found you. “Uhh Jess, Ken is about to do a backflip, so I think you should go back in.” He warned.

“Fuck off Rome, no he isn’t.” She scoffed, her arms crossed, staring back at him. But he refused to make any effort to even look at her. He avoided all eye contact. “Just please. Yea cause the junkie who you ordered coke for earlier is so okay right now after blasting through 6 lines and 3 shots.” He sounded annoyed. You weren’t sure you could even believe his lie. There was no way Jess was willingly getting him in touch with a dealer. She groaned before leaving you alone with Roman.

“Uhhh soo, that was I guess, I mean, I guess I violated some workers right law or something.” He tried to start the conversation. He never knew how to apologize.

“Yea. Multiple. For the past couple of days.”

“Right.” He noted before leaning against the railing across from you, making sure to give you space in case you pushed him off the building. “Uh so, which part made you so upset so I can just apologize and you let this go.”

There were no words to truly describe Roman. How could he really believe that it was that simple?

“Roman, I’m not forgiving you.” You laid out the truth. You were so embarrassed of yourself. Just earlier today you were practically cuddled up with him thinking he was actually kind of cute and funny. But he was just some other capitalist billionaire prick. The image and stereotypes were true.

“Weeeeeell you kind of have to. You are my assistant.”

“I just tolerate you.” You said coldly. You refused to look his way. You looked around the city to see the light that you admired earlier. It seemed to rest your nerves just a bit. They had a calming effect on you.

“Oh, come on, don’t be a fucking snowflake.” He whined. He was so pathetic looking. His eyes turned into pleading. They were practically like a little child who knew they did something wrong. His lips twitched to hide his discomfort. His head even lowered. He was a billionaire, and she was just on his payroll.

“Seriously? This is why I don’t forgive you Roman. You’re sorry but I’m a snowflake? Really? Do you even know how to form the words ‘I’m sorry’?” You berated him. “No. Do you? Well? No apparently not.” You finally faced him. You knew his ego was bruised. It was evident. It almost made you feel sorry for him. But you just couldn’t. You couldn’t feel sorry for someone who refused to take accountability for their actions. “I’m gonna go home Roman. I will see you tomorrow in the office.”

“But-“ He tried to reach out, but he knew he should probably back off for now. He didn’t wanna upset you anymore than he has.

You made sure to say goodbye to Jess and Willa before you had left, but you knew you’d see them both very soon.

You left and got into the Rolls Royce that waited for you and Roman. You told the driver to go without him. You relaxed on your way home. You were just happy to leave that mess. You couldn’t stand being there any longer than you had to. You walked back into your apartment and kicked your shoes off. You locked the door before making your way to the bedroom. You stripped down and laid onto your bed as soon as you possibly could. You quickly set your alarms before calling it a night.

Note: Poor Con, always the forgotten child :(

Chapter 4

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