#he deserves the world and that whole court case made me feel so many thing omg | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dallina17 · 7 months ago

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Taylor Swift five stages of grief playlist are like a big conversation between Emily and Lute. In Emily's case, is the grief of discovering someone wasn't the person you thought it was, falling out of love with her. And Lute is the grief of losing a friend and knowing your relationship with her will never be the same.

DENIAL

It starts in the court, Emily watching Lute say those horrible things and willing to kill those souls. But it's a mistake, right? Lute can't possibly be okay with this without a good reason. She knows.

I feel the lavender haze creepin' up on me. Surreal, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say. No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me. I just wanna stay in that lavender haze.

Meanwhile, Lute sees her friend hurt and confused, but she can make this right. She can convince her that those sinners deserve death. Emily will see this throught.

In the middle of the night, when I'm in this dream it's like a million little stars spelling out your name. You gotta come on, come on, say that we'll be together

...but she doesn't. And Emily can't believe that Lute really wants to kill those sinners that bad. Why would she? This isn't right. Why Lute is okay with this? This is a mistake, it must be a mistake, but everything tells her it isn't.

He says, "What you heard is true, but I can't stop thinkin' 'bout you and I". I said, "I've been there too a few times"

But Lute knows Emily just needs time, she will understand. In the meantime, they can still be friends... right?

But if I just showed up at your party, would you have me? Would you want me? Would you tell me to go fuck myself or lead me to the garden? In the garden, would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing?

Emily is betrayed, she needs to be away from Lute, think about this...

You said, "I know" when I said, "I need some time, need some space to think about all of this" You watched me go and I knew my words were hard to hear and harder to ever take back.

And so, as she starts to see that Lute isn't really the person she thought she was, she starts to feel...

ANGER

You took a swing, I took it hard, and down here from the ground, I see who you are. I'm sick and tired of your attitude I'm feeling like I don't know you

How? How could Lute agree with all of this? How could she kill all those souls? Lie to her for some many years? She thought Lute was her friend, a protector, but know she isn't sure anymore

Did you have to do this? I was thinking that you could be trusted. Did you have to ruin what was shining? Now it's all rusted. Did you have to hit me where I'm weak? Baby, I couldn't breathe. And rub it in so deep salt in the wound like you're laughing right at me

That's when Lute starts to realize that Emily isn't going to change her mind. She is really mad...

And it was like slow motion standing there in my party dress in red lipstick with no one to impress. And they're all laughing as I'm looking around the room. But there was one thing missing and that was the moment I knew

But Lute is mad too! What does Emily know? She has been protected her whole life and only sees the good that there is a humanity! But Lute has seen the filth! How horrible they are! They are sinners, they are wicked, they deserve death! She is doing something good, she is protecting Heaven, she is protecting Emily! How can she not see that?

While you were out building other worlds, where was I? Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? I made you my temple, my mural, my sky. Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life [...] If it's all in my head, tell me now. Tell me I've got it wrong somehow. I know my love should be celebrated but you tolerate it.

Emily doesn't want to hear anything. She is not stupid, she knows that there is bad people in the universe! Does Lute think she is stupid? Does Lute even really knew her? Every time she hears a word coming out of Lute's mouth, she feels her heart broke even more because dispite everything she still loves her

And you wanna scream, don't call me "kid". Don't call me "baby". Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else. Don't call me "kid". Don't call me "baby". Look at this idiotic fool that you made me.

But she can't stand this. She won't take part of this. Lute can excuse herself everything she wants, but Emily is not going to believe her.

Looking so innocent, I might believe you if I didn't know. Could've loved you all my life if you hadn't left me waiting in the cold. And you got your share of secrets and I'm tired of being last to know. And now you're asking me to listen cause it's worked each time before. But you don't have to call anymore. I won't pick up the phone. This is the last straw, don't wanna hurt anymore. And you can tell me that you're sorry but I don't believe you baby like I did before. You're not sorry.

Emily is going to act like a child? So be it! Lute is doing something right, if Emily can't see it, it's her fucking problem!! She has Sera's aprobation, she doesn't need Emily's. She doesn't care! And she doesn't mind losing her friend!

Hello Mr. "Perfectly fine", how's your heart after breaking mine? Mr. "Always at the right place at the right time, " baby. Hello Mr. "Casually cruel". Mr. "Everything revolves around you" [...]. He goes about his day forgets he ever even heard my name. Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

So they part ways, and Emily is left with her broken heart. She never really asked Lute for anything, to feel the same way as she did. But this? This she can't tolerate. Even if a deep part of her still loves Lute, she knows she has to stop loving her even if she misses her. Because the Lute she knew, isn't the Lute she fell in love with.

What a waste taking down the pictures and the plans we made, yeah. And it's strange how your face doesn't look so innocent. Your secret has its consequence and that's on you, babe.

Or does she? As months pass, and she misses Lute more, Emily starts to wonder if there is a way to solve this. Sure she couldn't be completely wrong about Lute, she is still a protector and kind inside, right? She just has to help her realize how wrong is to kill those sinners. Maybe she can...

BARGAIN

I wish you would come back, wish I'd never hung up the phone like I did. I wish you knew that I'd never forget you as long as I'd live. And I wish you were right here, right now

So she decides to do something, hang out with her again, do what they did before, slowly help Lute to see what is correct. Sure she will eventually listen. And that way, they can be friends again, and maybe her heart won't ache so much anymore.

Open the blinds, let me see your face, you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody. Is it insensitive for me to say get your shit together? So I can love you

Lute also misses her friend. Maybe they can agree to not agree? Act like they did before this whole mess. Pretend that exterminations never existed, not think about demons, or anything that might bring trouble. Just the two of them being friends.

I told myself, don't get attached. But in my mind, I play it back, sinning faster than the plane that took you. And this is when the feeling sinks in. I don't wanna miss you like this. Come back, be here

But it's impossible. They can hang out everything they want, do the things they used to. But they are not on the same page anymore. Lute wants to pretend that nothing happened, but Emily can't simple ignore what Lute did, what she still wants to do, and tries to talk about it and change her mind. Lute doesn't want to hear anything about it, and they argue again.

And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound. It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town. And I just wanted you to know that this is me trying. (And maybe I don't quite know what to say). I just wanted you to know that this is me trying. At least I'm trying.

Lute starts to see that pretending that exterminations, all the things she has done, doesn't exist, is not going to work. Lute is the angel she is, she is a warrior, and protector, and yes, a demon killer, and as long as she is those things, there will always be a wall between Emily and her.

Our coming-of-age has come and gone, suddenly the summer, it's clear. I never had the courage of my convictions. As long as danger is near, and it's just around the corner, darling, 'cause it lives in me. No, I could never give you peace.

Emily feels her heart truly broken. Why she had to fell in love with her? Why with someone that was so different from the person she thought her was? She has to step away, for real this time, but it just hurts so much.

I get drunk but it's not enough. 'Cause you're not my baby. I look through the windows of this love, even though we boarded them up. Chandelier's still flickering here, 'cause I can't pretend it's ok when it's not.

It was always a lost cause, wasn't it? There is no way of fixing this, of being together again in any form, and Emily should be mad and furious and scream and break everything, but now all she has is a feeling of...

DEPRESSION

Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?. I'm getting tired even for a phoenix. Always risin' from the ashes, mendin' all her gashes, you might just have dealt the final blow. Stop, you're losin' me. Stop, you're losin' me. Stop, you're losin' me. I can't find a pulse, ny heart won't start anymore.. for you.

Emily cuts all comunication with Lute, because she knows that the more she tries to reach to Lute, the more she is going to get hurt. Is better to leave, to find another place to heal (like hell), where she won't feel this feeling of dying inside anymore.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, you were bigger than the whole sky, you were more than just a short time. And I've got a lot to pine about. I've got a lot to live without. I'm never gonna meet, what could've been, would've been. What should've been you. What could've been, would've been you

Lute also knows she has to stay away from Emily, at this point, the only thing they are doing is hurting the other. She doesn't want to hurt Emily. She still thinks she is the kindest, most lovable girl she knows, but she is destroying that sweet girl. They have to get distance, even if it breaks her heart.

Power went to my head, and I couldn't stop. Ones I loved tried to help, so I ran them off. And here I sit alone, behind walls of regret, falling down like promises that I never kept. And I feel like my castle's crumbling down, and I watch all my bridges burn to the ground. And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down, you don't wanna know me now

How did they end up that way? They were so close, they were the best of friends, they laughed, they shared adventures... and now everything is broken.

Oh, I hate those voices, tellin' me I'm not in love anymore. But they don't give me choices, and that's what these tears are for. 'Cause we were happy, we were happy. When it was good, baby, it was good, baby, we showed 'em all up, no one could touch the way we laughed in the dark.

Lute focus on her job as the new lieutenant. She ignores the ache in her heart, she transforms the pain, this sadness, into power, to train, to lead, to be more powerful and to kill those fucking demons. While still hoping that one day, Emily will understand why she is doing what she is doing.

I cause no harm, mind my business. If our love died young, I can't bear witness. And it's been so long, but if you ever think you got it wrong, I'm right where you left me.

Emily, on the other side, decides to turn her sadness into something different. Focus on what she can do, instead of what she can't. She can't make Lute change her mind, but can help Charlie and the sinners, even if at nights she suffers, she desires that everything was different, and the pain is so much she feels she is going to die.

Maybe I was naive, got lost in your eyes, and never really had a chance. My mistake, I didn't know to be in love, you had to fight to have the upper hand. I had so many dreams about you and me, happy endings, now I know... I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale. I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet, lead her up the stairwell

...but she is stronger than she believes. Yes, it hurts so much. But also, the more she cries, the more the pain starts to go. The more she helps with the hotel, the more she smiles. She believed that her broken heart would kill her, that not having Lute in her life anymore would destroy her, but she is still standing. She is moving forward, without Lute, but in the right direction. And so she moves to the final stage.

ACCEPTANCE

Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned, everything you lose is a step you take. So make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it, you've got no reason to be afraid. You're on your own, kid. Yeah, you can face this. You're on your own, kid, you always have been

Lute isn't the person she thought she was, which is horrible. But she can try to change her, which will only hurt her, or she can just let her be. Do what she knows best, help demons, hope for Lute to open her eyes, but not trying to force her to do so if she doesn't want to.

That old familiar body ache, the snaps from the same little breaks in my soul, I know when it's time to go. Sometimes, givin' up is the strong thing. Sometimes, to run is the brave thing. Sometimes, walkin' out is the one thing that will find you the right thing.

Lute sadness also starts to go away eventually. She faces the truth. Her relationship with Emily will never be the same. And even if it hurts, she has to learn to live in a world without her friend.

Never wanted this, never wanna see you hurt. Every little bump in the road I tried to swerve. People are people, and sometimes it doesn't work out, nothing we say is gonna save us from the fall out. And we know it's never simple, never easy, never a clean break, no one here to save me. You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand. And I can't, breathe, without you, but I have to.

Emily sees Lute eventually, and as the time pass, she will notice that when she sees Lute, it's not the most beautiful woman she has ever seen, the one she wants to be with. She is just Lute, the leader of the Exorcists, and thus, someone she must stop if she tries to hurt her friends. She is not in love with Lute anymore, and that's okay.

There'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you. Both of these things can be true. There is happiness, past the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries. Beyond the terror in the nightfall, haunted by the look in my eyes, that would've loved you for a lifetime. Leave it all behind and there is happiness

And when Lute sees Emily, she sees how different she is, she hates it, but there is nothing she can do about it. That's fine. They are different people now.

You grew your hair long, you got new icons. And from the outside, it looks like you're trying lives on. I miss the old ways, you didn't have to change. But I guess I don't have a say, now that we don't talk.

Emily finally starts to be the person she was before, but wiser. This pain has made her stronger. She starts to smile again, be the seraph she was before, her pain fades away...

Rain came pouring down, when I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe. And by morning, gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean.

...and eventually, she will find love again. A real love. Without lies. Without secrets. Just a pure, sweet love, she will cherish forever.

I've been spending the last eight months, thinking all love ever does, is break and burn, and end. But on a Wednesday in a cafe, I watched it begin again.

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darsynia · 2 years ago

Note

do you take requests? if so, I’d like to formally request reader comforting Tony and just showering him in praise because he truly deserves it and we never see him get treated like that in the movies

it can end with smut if you’d like, up to you 🫶🏻

Summary: Tony Stark was a broken, angry man after he survived his snap to save the universe, but you've brought him back to life slowly, carefully, lovingly. He comes home with bad news after a meeting with his doctor, and you offer him as much comfort and encouragement as you can. Warnings: hurt/comfort, toxic anger, mentions of amputation (story is set post-Endgame) Pairings: Tony Stark/GN!Reader Word Count: 3,171

Thank you so much for your request! I've updated the layout of this story and hope that you did see it back when it was posted.

Build Me a Cocoon So I Can Crawl Inside Your Love

Tony’s back from the specialist’s appointment he didn’t want to let you come along for, and he looks really discouraged. The gamma radiation damage had required an amputation above the elbow. It was a strategic choice, designed to offer the best possible outcome for prosthetics. The problem is, it hasn’t been healing well enough to be fitted yet, and by the look on his face, that’s still the case.

Every time he goes in to be assessed, the fitting date is pushed back, and Tony comes home feeling some kind of way. This time he’s sad, resigned even, which you suppose is better than when he was angry and ready to burn off enough flesh to start over. Tony Stark’s righteous anger is hard to refute, but his sadness? It breaks your heart.

You’d met Tony after the heroics, after the messy divorce, after the custody battle. He was never a man who knew how best to heal, and healing the whole universe of its colossal loss was meant to kill him. When it didn’t, he… didn’t handle that very well.

If you had been a home health nurse, one of the court-ordered psychologists, or even among the number of Morgan’s many home tutors (the daughter of the savior of the universe was too valuable to go to regular school, one of the things Pepper and Tony had fought over, with Tony on the side of ‘I know what boarding school and isolation does to a rich kid, you cannot do this to our daughter.’ He’d lost.), Tony would never have given you the time of day. He wants nothing at all to do with anything from before, not even by association.

No, you’re an artist. He’d run into you completely by accident on one of the worst days of his new life, though the events did end up creating an accidental bond. In a bid to completely revamp his life, Tony had been spending time at national parks, and, woefully unprepared for the heat, he’d stumbled into your day camp set up. You’d fed and watered him, but then he’d had a phantom pain attack, and in response, an attack of temper.

“-- not expect to spend the rest of my life in this much fucking PAIN!” Tony had roared, his remaining hand scrabbling at the knot made out of the empty bottom half of his right sleeve, trying to untie it. You’d come over to help, and in blind frustration, he’d shoved you away, probably remembering someone else, someone who made him feel guilty for being angry.

You’d fallen back into your easel, your ass sliding across your unfinished art, ruining many hours of work.

There was no way you wanted to make things worse for him-- after all, he was the reason you got some of the people you loved most in the world back! --so you’d tried to minimize the damage. They were only things, after all, and you could recreate what you lost. The two of you had quarantined yourselves at either side of your camp, each tending to your own ‘wounds.’ In all honesty, you’d expected him to walk off, but he hadn’t.

An indeterminate number of minutes later, after you’d cleaned everything up and were trying to decide how best to carry it back down to your car, Stark’s left hand thrust into view. He was holding a piece of paper, a receipt, it looked like, with some information scrawled onto the back of it.

“Figure out how much that all cost and I’ll reimburse you. Send me a message on that. It’s private, so,” Tony had heaved a sigh, then continued, “--don’t share--”

“Are you kidding?” you’d said, covering his shaking hand with yours instinctively, to steady it. “I wouldn’t dream of making your life worse, after all you’ve done!”

“Please.” You can still remember his voice, how weary he’d sounded. “No Thanos.”

“Yeah, I’m with you there. Fuck that guy,” you had blurted. “I meant your inventions, the prosthetics! Not just that, but in three months you’ve revolutionized the entire industry, created a whole new sweat-wicking fabric-- can I ask you?” You’d turned around, still holding onto his hand like a complete idiot, too excited to realize you were holding him physically captive. “Is it the same stuff you came up with for Banner? Because that is just genius-- though, I guess I don’t need to tell you that! You’ve always been a genius. I bet you have fifty hard drives full of that kind of stuff, really useful inventions, but people like Obediah Stane and the jerks in the army weren’t ever willing to listen.”

Tony had just blinked at you, a tiny, molecule-thick smile forming on his lips. You knew he’d been in self-destruct mode for months, but impossibly, you did not choose that moment to keep your mouth shut.

“I’m sorry you’re in such pain still. I follow tech news but don’t know much about the actual process, but that’s even more amazing, you know that, right? Pain saps creativity, and so does sadness. You’ve done all that while you’re hurt and miserable? True hero, I swear it.”

“Are you for real?” he had asked, his face a mix of consternation and reluctant happiness. “No one put you up to this? Rhodey?”

“No offense, Mr. Stark, but if War Machine flew my ass up here to make you feel better, do you think I’d have the guts to tell you that?”

It’s been ten months, the first six of which had been full of affectionate-antagonistic messages sent back and forth, sometimes with large gaps. You hadn’t wanted to take payment, he’d insisted, and you’d both found creative ways to either send money or send the sent money back, right up until the time he’d found out you were about to become homeless.

Tony Stark had moved you into his house. He’d risked the headlines, the speculation, the condemnation, and done it anyway. It didn’t feel like billionaire behavior at the time, and it still doesn’t now that you’re in the clandestine relationship the media speculated about. It felt like something someone does because they love you.

You’re not sure you’ll ever get over that. You don’t want to.

Even so, he’s hard to live with sometimes, even especially on days like this. You almost miss the anger. His attitude today feels like resigned, miserable acceptance, the thing he’d already gone through when he’d lost custody of Morgan to Pepper. You two had already hashed that out, and he’d agreed he wasn’t any kind of parent, might not be for a while. He’d tried to say he wasn’t any kind of partner, and you’d spent a few nights specifically proving that was bullshit.

Sometimes you want to scream at the whole world. To you, Tony Stark is the best of them, because he didn’t have an unassailable moral code. He hadn’t been a model of perfect humanity, and he still isn’t. And still he’d saved everyone. He’d saved people on planets ‘hitherto undreamt of,’ to quote an interaction he’d be upset you’d found out about. You’d thought about trying to rehabilitate his relationships with the people from Before, but it’s going to take a few more years of love, affection, and encouragement to get him there.

It used to be one step forward and four steps back, but now it’s more the reverse. He’s thriving, and you know it’s because he’s getting to hear the good things first, instead of constant critique.

“You’re too quiet,” Tony says from the couch.

“I was gathering rose petals,” you lie. It’s a running joke between you, but one of these days you’ll actually do it, set up a bath or something, knock his socks off.

“Please say it’s for some kind of mind-numbing tea that lets me skip forward a few days,” he groans, scrubbing his hand over his face. “I need the stronger painkillers. I know I said I wouldn’t--”

“Hey, hey,” you soothe, coming over with the pills already in hand.

Tony makes the same face he always does when you anticipate his needs. It’s surprised, pleased, even confused, but the percentages have steadily changed to be more pleased, less confused, and almost never surprised anymore. That’s progress.

You sit on the arm of the couch, next to his residual limb, and he frowns up at you.

“Don’t think I don’t notice that you keep doing that.”

“Do what?” You know, but you want him to address it.

His glare is sexy as hell, but you push your desire back and focus on his emotional state. In your head, you’re cheering him on, and maybe he can feel it, because he says, “I can’t touch you with my hand over there. Not without twisting around.”

You run your hand through his hair to soften his reaction to your response, and thrill at the rumbling ‘mmmm’ sound he makes. “Because I love all of you. If I don’t shy away from your pissy attitude when you’re an entire grump, I’m not going to shy away from--”

For the first time since you’ve been together, he reaches out with his right arm and sweeps you off of the arm of the couch and onto his lap. You try not to react, try not to show how important the moment is, but Tony’s looking right at you, and he can tell something’s up.

“Really?” he says, shaking his head in confusion like you’re some sort of bizarre cryptid.

“You never touch me with your right side on purpose,” you say carefully.

He leans down to kiss you, and it’s not a lust kiss, it’s gratitude, and something about it is sweetly calming. You can tell he got bad news today, but he’ll tell you when he’s up for it, and until then, you can show him he’s loved. When the kiss ends, he leans his head in the direction of the bedroom, and you nod.

It’s mid afternoon, but the blackout curtains on the windows lend an air of evening finality to the room, which you maintain by putting on a small, dim lamp by the bed. Tony changes out of his formal clothes while you watch appreciatively, and when he’s in his sweats, he walks over and lets himself fall onto the bed.

“Fuck,” he says. “Would it be crazy to just--”

“Sleep?” you finish with him. In response, Tony hugs you to him, and you kiss his chest. “Alarm?”

“No, I’ve figured out you’re mostly harmless by now,” he jokes, the words broken up by a ferocious yawn.

The two of you wake up in a jumble. Tony’s rolled over and thrown his right leg possessively over your hip. He’s awake, as it happens, and when you meet his eyes, he gives a little tug of his left arm, which you’ve been sleeping on. The two of you adjust, which mostly means you end up facing each other, each on your own pillow pile.

“Did the nap help any?” you whisper.

“Always and never,” he says back, and you get it. Some things just… stay broken.

Girding yourself mentally for a negative reaction, you reach up and set your left hand against the spiderweb of scars on the right side of his face.

“I have wanted to say this for months, but every time I thought about it, I recognized that you were too hurt, too full of distorted, hateful thinking to accept it.”

He breaks in, his wry expression undergirded with iron. “You’re so sure I’m ready to hear you now? After the news I got?” You can feel the tightness to his jaw under your fingertips, and you lean over to kiss it away. The way the tension eases almost as soon as your lips brush against his skin is answer enough.

“Yes.” You slide your hand down to rest against his chest, partly to feel the steady beat of his heart. “Your father did too little too late, and it’s okay to acknowledge that.”

“You’re starting there? I need a drink,” he teases, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, and his leg doesn’t tense up like he’s ready to get up and run away from what you’re saying.

“Hell yes I’m starting there. You watched me try to live up to my friends’ expectations, do you remember what you said?”

His lips twitch with reluctant amusement. “I said ‘those fuckers want to make you into the friend they want, not the friend they already have.”

“Exactly.”

“Point taken,” Tony grunts. “Next?”

“It’s not your fault that you made things that were misused by people with shitty intentions.”

He turns in bed, shifting so he can lay on his back. You cuddle up, rest your head on his shoulder. “And when those people were the government?” he asks.

“What’s the alternative? Watching them self destruct with Hammer’s shit? When you saw the weapons dealing get too far, you cut it off. You lost a ton of money. You gotta let that go, Tony. You were misled, you lived the life you thought you were meant to, right up until you didn’t.”

“Noted.”

You skip over some things. They’ll keep, and the last thing you want to do is have him sit there worrying about what you’re going to say next.

“Last one for now: that thing with the nuclear warhead and the Chitauri is the most heroic thing you’ve ever done,” you say, scooting impossibly closer. He’s gonna challenge this one.

Tony’s scorn as he turns his head to look at you is palpable, as expected.

“Hear me out: it was amazing that you built the suit for the stones, ok? But you had time to figure that out. You decided about that ahead of time. You had the choice. But the nuke? You just worked on instinct. Do you understand how amazing that was? You knew you could do it and you did it-- and you were afraid. You were terrified, Tony. That’s heroism.” His jaw is working like his teeth can’t settle against each other, and you run your fingertips through the too-long hair spilling over onto his forehead. “You also sat through that even though you wanted me to shut up.”

“True.”

“You want to tell me more about your day?”

“Not even a little bit,” he grins, but you start rubbing comfort along his chest, kissing his shoulder, and he sighs. “They’re going to take more off. Reset the stump, basically. They say that will give it a better chance of actually healing, so I can end up with something I can actually do something useful with.”

“You’ve got a million ideas for prosthetics for your suit, don’t you?” you guess. “It dawns on you that this is the issue. He hasn’t been himself without the fucking Iron Man suit, because even though it’ll conform to him, it’s not pain free until his arm heals. Tony’s been knocked back to larval form for over a year.

This whole time you thought he wasn’t doing anything with the suit because it nearly killed him, because it reminds him of Before, but that’s not it at all. Tony Stark’s suit has always been his saving grace, and he hasn’t really been himself without it.

You extricate yourself and sit up. “Holy shit.”

“Now what?” he says, vulnerable, irritated.

“This is it, this is the thing we’ve been waiting for. When did they say they’re going to do the surgery?”

“You’re excited about this?”

You stand up, too full of energy and excitement to stay still. “Tony, you’re not seeing the big picture! You’re, you’re…” You light on it, a remnant of the very few visits he still has with Morgan. That light at the end of the tunnel is so distant as to be physically painful, but you go for it, because he needs this hope, and so do you. “You’re like a cross between the seventeen-year cicadas and the Very Hungry Caterpillar, Tony!”

He’s shaking his head, sitting up in bed, hand going to massage his stump, brows furrowed.

“The suit! You’ve been exiled from it, right? Because it hurts. It hurts to leave your most vulnerable part exposed and unarmored, and the effort it takes to be the old you long enough to code it to account for what’s missing hurts too. It’s been symbolic, all this time, right?”

His left hand is fisted in his lap, and his jaw is tight, but Tony nods.

“You’ve been buried in the ground without it, it’s the only place you’re safe.” You’re probably pushing the metaphor too far, but you love this beautiful, glorious genius, and it’s not your fault you weren’t smart enough to figure this out before. “You had to heal your heart first, in order to have enough physical capital to heal your arm. You had to be willing to give something up for both-- your privacy, your right to avoid being vulnerable around someone else. Literal inches of the precious amount of arm you have left.”

“Breathe, will you? You’re turning purple,” he teases. It’s a deflection, but a gentle one. You can tell he wants you to continue, even if he can’t bring himself to admit it.

“It’s almost time to come up from the ground, Tony-- and honestly? I think if that arm of yours took less time to heal, you might actually have trashed the rest of your suits. You needed the time. And now, you can turn into a fucking IRON BUTTERFLY. You can already make that suit do anything. Fuck actual prosthetics-- as soon as you figure out the best way to pad out your stump, the sky’s the actual--” you break off and tear up.

Tony gets up, comes over, pulls you close. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the fuck are you--”

“You haven’t flown. Since you snapped. You love to fly.” You’re fucking inconsolable. Tony’s toxic fury has led you to compartmentalize everything about his life Before, but it’s part of him, and if you’d have just made those connections earlier--

Tony’s got his hand on your face, walking you back to the door of the bedroom, and now he’s kissing you. It’s tender, forgiving, and despite yourself, you cling to him, your guilt slipping through your fingers no matter how hard you try to grip it.

“Goddamnit, Tony!” you whisper when he shifts his lips to your cheek.

“You called me a butterfly. This is self defense.”

You sniffle defensively. “You’re a beautiful butterfly, Tony. An Iron Monarch.”

“Not yet, I’m not. But you’re going to fucking drag me there, aren’t you?” He sounds pissed, but for one of the first times since you’ve known him, it’s not a toxic anger. It’s the kind of angry you get when you’re loved so much you’re given what you need, not just what you want.

“You’d better fucking believe it,” you say.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x gn!reader #hurt/comfort #tony stark imagine #tony stark x you #iron man x reader #iron man x you #tony stark #iron man #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #iron man x gn!reader

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ncitygirls · 3 years ago

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forgive - hyunjin x f reader

angst, fluff, smut, royal au, 4.1k

to die just as one graduates to motherhood is the tragic fate of countless women of your time. though there is no shame in falling victim to eve’s curse, one does feels a deserving sense of pride in their ability to look the devil in the eye and turn one’s cheek. to crawl through the forest of death and drag oneself towards the light. many are denied the privilege of survival. living is a sign from the heavens that perhaps there is a reason for such trials. that strife is a lesson in one’s journey, a meaning to life.

but to die before bearing your husband a son is a fate you would readily accept in place of the dark nothing you nearly surrendered to. the thought drifts into your mind the moment your greatest trial and grandest reward shifts in your arms, your daughter’s wails slowly rising in pitch and frequency as you smile loftily at her bundled form in your lap. she sings a song most would call unbearable. the screech so shrill, it pierces through even the most impenetrable guard. but never through you. you could continue to find peace in the deafening sound had it not been for your husband. your dear, sweet husband.

your king.

your king, whose presence thus far escaped you. that is until he asked, just a decibel louder than the wailing infant, “could you please settle her, sweet?”

“oh,” you glance at his rigid form, across your living quarters, to find his pretty scowl trained on his heir, only softening when his eyes meet the familiar orbs of his queen. “my apologies, hyunjin. is she distracting you?”

“no,” he breathes, allowing his head to fall back on the loveseat, his sculpted cheek puffs. “it’s just annoying.”

“it?” your eyes quickly return to him, only to be met by the back of his morning paper. “i do hope you are referring to the sound itself and not to your child, my love?”

“does it matter?” he sighs, realising moments too late that the room has stilled. “my dear, i did not mean to offend.’

“of course not, your highness,” ah, ‘your highness’. you call on the title in the times you wish to hurt him most. “she is but a child, of course you meant her no offense. i ask for your mercy, sire.”

“i sense hostility in you.”

“shall I call on a nurse for you, your grace?” he wonders for a second what the reason could be before you readily come to his aid. “it is most unlike you to use sense of any kind.”

“that was out of turn-”

“me? my king, you believe it is i who is out of turn?” hyunjin knows there is no answer to such a question. because yes would present grounds for annulment and no would mean he is wrong. and kings cannot be found in the wrong. “not the new father who refers to his daughter as ‘it’? of course it is not he who is speaking out of turn, not when he is a king.

“when he is a man.”

“ah, ‘men are the source of all the world’s ailments’, must we hear excerpts from your manifesto again, my love? it is only noon,” he assumes you hear only humour in his tone and decides to take it a step further. “is it in your plans to fill the house of hwang with women just to spite me?”

“oh,” you breathe, smiling softly as he watches, “is it a son you desire, hyunjin? is that what you want?” his eyes squint as he watches his love rise to place his only heir in the cot before you glide over to him, sweetness vanishing from your eyes as you succumb to your wrath. “you want a son, king hyunjin? then give me one.”

“leave us.” the servants standing by flee the room, quick to abandon a maid who halts as hyunjin blocks her path. “take the child.”

she takes a hurried step towards your child before she is stopped once more. “take my child and i will take your hand.” the poor girl is quick to abandon her king’s direct order before fleeing the scene, closing the door as she departs.

a biting silence takes the place of the bodies that once filled the chamber, thickening every corner of the room. minutes pass before hyunjin realises you have no further interest in him. “if it were not for the fact my heart beats for you, my beloved, i too would take my leave.”

“your heart? is that what beats in your chest, hyunjin? a heart?” he scoffs, unbothered by the deflection masked by your jab. “kings are meant to rule, not jest. do not humour me.”

“was your tea cup mistaken for a bedpan?”

“i almost died, jinnie!” he withers as you tremble, your eyes misting as you try to find someone resembling your beloved in the man sat across from you. “i almost lost my life bearing you the heir you prayed for, only for you to treat her with the same regard one does a child born in illegitimacy.” he wishes to deny it, and you see it too. but your eyes are alight and hyunjin swears he sees his end in them. “she is your child, hyunjin. and should she be your only, she will wear your crown with pride and rule as well as any boy ever could.”

“i know that.” your scoff stung like a strike to the cheek and winds him like a blow to the gut. “i do. y/n, i swear it to you.”

“then perhaps you should act like it.” he finally sees what fuels your rage and rests behind your eyes: disappointment. “you cannot love me and not my kin, jin. i won’t allow it.”

“my love,” he reaches for you but you repel, moving instead to the babbling baby. “you mistake my desire for a son as a lack of joy for my daughter.” pulling your hands from the sides of the cot, he dwarfs them with his own. “i love her with everything i have in me. i swear.”

“had my father received me as you did our child, i would not believe that to be the case.”

“forgive me, my love.” you’re quick to cast your gaze elsewhere, ignoring his puppy eyed plea. “i will pray the heavens take mercy on me, but i need you to first. please believe me when i say i love her. i do. she is half of the greatest woman to ever walk this kingdom, i worship her.”

“then why? why the cold shoulder? why treat her this way?” he suddenly finds himself unable to answer, opting instead to rock the baby, basking in her glow. with a soft sigh, you raise a hand to his cheek, offering him reprieve as he burrows into your palm. “what troubles you?”

“nothing, my love.” your disbelieving gaze sends his shoulders south, his whole frame sagging. “it’s just my dealings with the courts.” of course. the courts. “i spent every night bowed in ceaseless prayer. i prayed for your health, for your life, for our child. i prayed until bruises formed on my knees, my love. and still i prayed. but as i prayed for my family, they prayed only for my successor, for a boy.” though you find it impossible, he manages to lower himself further. folding himself into you, almost in two, hiding his long face from view. “once I caught wind of their talks with the lord, i condemned it. i condemned any prayer against my wishes but the court can do as they please in their solitude and i know we do not rule on fear but after her birth, for the first time in my life? i wished we did.” it was inexplicable, the difficulty you had beholding an enraged hyunjin, the skin curving around his knuckles and jaw as they tightened with every word he uttered, your heart tightening in kind. “i wanted to make heads roll, to end them for the disregard they paid my child, my family, my wife.” it starts to make sense now, his grinding teeth and red rimmed eyes. his late and sleepless nights. the nights hypnos granted him even a slither of reprieve were spent clinging to you, a cold sweat soaking the sheets, puzzling you beyond belief. it all makes sense. “the courts have filled me with doubt. they warned of foreign enemies who would hear of our heir, of our girl. that they would see her as a sign we are weak, that we are lesser.”

“but how can they speak in such a way? we are ahead of such things.”

“my love, you must see past the likes of lord kim and baron han. the rest of the men in my court are old, and stuck in old ways. our nation has not seen a queen on the throne since the likes of my widowed great, great grandmother.” his hands cup your face, bleary eyes blinking back the tears his heavy words summoned. “i love you, y/n. and i love her. all i want is for you both to be safe. but i live in constant fear that i cannot keep you safe with enemies outside our walls and evidently within.”

“hyunjin, my love,” he settles at the soft spoken call of his name, the loving address soothing his forlorn heart. “i will burn the court to the ground before they bring harm to my kin. or to you.” it is not unlike you to let your anger consume you. in fact, it is but a facet of what made him fall in love with you. what continues to bother him is the fact he was not the first to make such a bold promise. “my love?”

“fret not, my queen,” his nimble hands gather his daughter from her cot, his lips pulling in a soft grin as the child gargles, reaching up for him. “it is just, with my brains and your ferocity, i believe this hwang might be the greatest queen- no, ruler levanter has ever seen.”

“forgive me, my love,” the apology fills the space to his left, from where your temple rests on his shoulder, fingers toying with his undershirt. “but you do not suggest that this girl will be inheriting her brains from her father-”

“watch your mouth.”

“watch it for me.”

“careful,” he warns, dropping his lips to yours for a brief peck before withdrawing but an inch, “i might just give you that son you asked for.”

“careful, or i might just let you.” your rebuttal has him fanning your lips with a breathless chortle, urging you to rise to the tips of your toes and connect your lips to his once more. when you withdraw, he follows, resting his forehead on yours, smiling softly as your eyes meet. your voice is barely a whisper as you enquire, “what do we do now, my love?”

“now, i will handle the courts,” huffing, hyunjin places a kiss to the crown of his daughter’s head, smiling as he does. “i am afraid you will just have to handle everything else.” the regret in his words do not match the smirk on his lips, though he confesses, “i do not envy you, my love.” placing the baby in the cot once more, he pulls you into his chest, resting his cheek at the uppermost point on your head. “but i will keep you both safe. i put my life on it-”

“sire,” you warn, leaning up to kiss his neck. “your life is no longer yours to wager.”

“is that so?” hyunjin only grins at your assured affirmation. “my queen, is there anything that is mine in this kingdom?”

“me.” even after all these years, hyunjin is undone by you. from your matter of fact utterance, a breathless admission of submission to your glowy eyed gaze, eyes shining with pure adoration. “i belong to you.”

“you do?” he sighs when you nod, the small bounce of your head forcing his own head up and down. his eyes and hands slowly trail down your arms stilling at your fingers. slipping his digits between yours, he raises them to his pouted lips, slowly pressing each one with a kiss so soft and so sweet, you nearly jump as he speaks. “and these? do these belong to me?”

“yes, sire.”

“good,” he breathes, joy flashing behind his eyes. “and what about this?” he whispers against your lips, his plump lips tangling with your own. only after playing with your tongue, sucking on the muscle and swallowing your whines does he ask, “is this smart mouth of yours mine?”

“all yours.”

he nods in agreement, fingers gliding down the side of your neck, dusting over your chemise to cup you over your stay. only to find you bare. “were you that hastened to join me for tea?”

“no,” you laugh, hitting his chest as he pulls you closer, enjoying feeling your near bare chest on his. “i breastfeed.” you love your king. for as slow as he is, he is twice as loving. you watch realisation dawn on him not once but twice, a slight pout stealing his lips, exaggerated by their natural downturn. “what is it?”

“i just,” he stops, laughing to himself. “i just realised these-” he cups your tender breasts, thumb barely dusting the sore nubs. “-they’re no longer mine.”

“hyunjin!” his laughter picks up before it stills, the sleeping princess nearly awoken by the delight of her parents. “no, they’re on loan.”

“that’s fine.” he sighs, ducking his head to kiss the center of your chest. “i’ll wait.”

“i’m proud of you.”

“thank you,” your pride does not last long, as he lowers his hands to cup your ass and pull you flush against him. through your chemise and slip, you feel him. all of him. he deftly slips his tongue between your gasping lips, filling your mouth in ways that force your panties to dampen, the fabric soaking with every roll of his hardening cock to your aching slit. “but this is mine,” he reminds you, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “do you understand?”

“y-yes.”

“yes, who?”

“yes, your grace.”

“good. now, go get a nurse for the princess.” the king proclaims, emphasising his point with a firm slap to your ass as you almost sprint out of the room. as you return with the nanny, you feel your heart swell to almost double its size. you find hyunjin by your daughter’s basket, a soft lullaby floating in the air as he gathers her in his long, folded arms. you watch him pass her to the nanny, his fingers passing over her puffed up knuckle, in awe of her inherent daintiness. “sleep well, my dove.”

you fear he might have forgotten you as the two leave and he stares in quiet longing. you finally approach him as his sniffles begin. “hyunjin?”

“i have missed her.” he whines, wet eyes cast skyward, guilt staining his face. “i have been a terrible father-”

“no.” your scold has his gaze falling, his shining eyes searching your frowning face. “not terrible. never terrible. just a little distant.” you soften as he nods, understanding pouring into him as you craddle his face in your palms. “you know now.”

“yeah,” he agrees, leaning to press a wet kiss to your lips. “please forgive me, my love.”

“there’s nothing to forgive.” you hum against his pouting lips, moulding your mouth with his as you try and tear him from this spell of despair. “come sit,” you whisper, guiding him towards his original seat.

when he lowers into it and feels you lower in kind, though to the ground, he frowns deeply. “i-” he stalls as you palm him through his slack breeches, fingers gripping him through the fabric. he grinds up into your closing fist, eyes squeezing shut as you momentarily silence him. the peace is short lived as he moans, realising what you’ve done to him. “i wanted to pleasure you.”

“and you will,” you quickly assure him, smirking when his frown deepens. “once i pleasure you.”

“fine.” he concedes, crossing his arms as you unfasten his breeches. you glare at him through your lashes until he huffs, stiffly raising his hips to allow you room to lower his garments down his thighs. “is there anything else i can do for you, mrs hwang?”

“that is all.” you chortle, fanning the reddened, leaking head of his cock. the sound forces a smile on his face until your tongue glides against his glistening slit. he almost chokes when you gaze up at him suddenly, eyes full of too much love for one king to fathom. “you just relax, okay?”

he can barely make himself nod as he fills your sight with his lovesick smile. “i don’t deserve you.”

“i know.” you rise to your knees to swallow his retraction, enjoying the lurid way he melts under the touch of your lips and palm. you offer languid strokes up and down his length, thumbing at his slit as he practically dribbles down himself. “jinnie, you’re making a mess.”

“‘m sorry.” the whine isn’t worrisome, but rather his second admission of guilt. with a gentle shake of your head, you raise your unsoiled hand to his lips, smearing your mingled saliva across his chin.

“i like you messy,” you admit, watching his eyes glaze over at your confession. “you’re always so proper now. you were never like that.” you squeeze him tighter at his base as you speak, dragging up the length of his cock, forcing a mewl from his throat as he releases his bitten, spit slicked lip. “remember when you were still a prince, and i just a lady?” he nods dumbly, head rolled to the side as drool pools on the corner of his mouth. “you used to fuck me in the greenhouse as it rained on a starry night. and behind the guards’ stables. even in the old maid’s quarters-”

“tha-that’s because we couldn’t anywhere else.”

“true,” you tut, wiping his chin as he fucks up into your closed fist. “yet now the kingdom is yours, you only ever fuck me in the castle.”

“but i always fuck you well.” when you just smile his hips falter, brows knitting as you massage his tensed thigh. “say it.”

“say what?”

“that i always fuck you well.”

“you do fuck me well,” you knowingly half agree, pumping him in your tight fist before he grabs your wrist. only a few seconds pass but the small fire ignited by your defiance burns for an eternity. the warm embers blazed to a full village fire when you squeeze at his base, moving to restart your ministrations. hyunjin only scoffs, clicking his tongue with a soft shake of his head. “a king’s ego should not be so dependent on his queen-”

before you can finish, his fingers cling to the base of your neck, squeezing in a way that traps the words in your throat. he feels you swallow, his dark eyes watching how you struggle to breathe. it’s dizzying. the way he eyes you, flitting between your expanding chest and gasping mouth. he presses the back of his hand to your chin, tilting your lips toward his mouth as he leans in. “it seems my ego rests on the mocking words of my smart mouthed wife,” he whispers into your open mouth, sucking softly on your bottom lip. “so, my queen, mightn’t you humour me? tell me that which i desire to hear.”

“you-” he senses an unfitting retort on your tongue and tightens his grip, marvelling at the delicious way your eyes roll back. he only loosens when theu water, gleaming in pitiful surrender. “you always fuck me well.”

“like i will now.”

“li-like you will now.”

“good,” he grins, proud of your slow but gratifying progress. helping you stand, hyunjin gathers the hem of your chemise in his fists, hiking it up to your waist before placing the fabric in your waiting hands. he feels for your undergarments, fingers gliding along the soft skin of your belly, purposely missing the waistband of your panties. he watches your breathing change with every long second he teases you, missing your sex in obvious ways. when you whine he only tuts, watching a frown kiss your features. “it’s not nice to be kept waiting, is it?”

“no,” you mumble, jutting out a full blown pout. “please touch me, hyunjin.” you too can sense your lover’s utterances before they are ever fully realised. like now, when he smirks, knuckles dusting over your throbbing heat. “properly.”

your emphasis has him chortling, the sound delighting you in ways you cannot explain. how long had it been since you had him like this? warm and open, delighted by the trivialities of foreplay. excited by your pending coitus. it brings a sudden joy to your heart, and, to your husband at least, an inexplicable grin to your bitten lips.

“what tickles you, my love?”

“i just missed you.” you confess, not too dissimilar to his earlier realisation. “i want you happy always.”

“oh,” he breathes, finally pinching your panties and sliding them down past your ankles. “one can feel nothing but joy when you are near.”

“is that so?” you hum as he pulls you to his lap, his thumb dipping into your soaking cunt before slow dragging it along your swollen clit.

“it is so,” he affirms, offering soft pecks to the taut skin of your neck. “it’s why i married you.”

“really- oh,” words stick in your throat as he dips a lone finger in you, his thumb still circling as he presses against your walls. your lips find his in your daze, somehow still embarrassed by the awe with which he regards you. your hips roll against his cramped hand, chasing the beginnings of a tightening coil in the base of your belly. “you’re still infatuated with me?”

“always.” he removes himself without leaving your lips, swallowing your taunt as he guides you onto his awaiting cock. time stills for a moment as you adjust, brain whirring as you both realise the time that has passed since you had him like this. your throbbing walls clamped around his pulsing cock. the subtle tremor of his thighs as you sink onto him, buttocks resting in his waiting palms. he offers a gentle squeeze, one of comfort and question. “can you move?” you nod against his skin, damp forehead pressed to his as he guides your motions with gentle tilts of his wrists. his tongue slips into your mouth, readily lapping at your own as you wrap your arms around his neck. his hands rise to your hips in time, guiding you with a firmer grip, enjoying the slow rock of your hips on his aching cock. he feels you squeeze around him as he sucks on your tongue, his thighs shaking with a looming orgasm. he pulls you in closer, lifting you inches in the air before leaving your slippery lips. before you can even think to protest, hyunjin snaps up into you at a steady pace, enjoying the mewls he conjures from you.

“jinnie, i’m- i-”

“it’s okay,” he groans, on his own verge of release. “it’s okay, my love. let go.”

and you do. moments later you let go, loudly soiling his lap and favourite loveseat as he fucks into your soaking cunt. seconds later he follows you, head thrown back as he releases in you, fearful of nothing but the stained upholstery as he thanks the lord above that you are his wife.

“you owe me a new chair.” he says suddenly, still panting as you pepper soft kiss along his shoulder blade. “and new breeches.”

“it is you who is to blame, sire.” he watches with a raised brow as you rest on his knees. “you always fuck me so well, how could i help myself?”

“ah, right.” he folds when you laugh, the sound forcing his hands upward, along with the corners of his lips. “forgive me, my love.”

“i love you.” you whisper instead, settling against his chest as you both ignore the compromising position you’re in. “so much.”

“and i you,” he swears. “always.”

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unhealthyfanobsession · 4 years ago

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I teased this in a previous post and people asked me to expand so...here’s my controversial take that Rhysand and Nesta are actually parallel characters in many ways and that they both hate each other so much because they ultimately hate themselves.

Alright ladies and gentleman, anti’s and stans, buckle your fucking seatbelts or hope off the roller coaster here because I’m about to learn you a thing or two about the most divisive characters in the ACOTAR world.

Starting out very broadly- both characters are introduced as sort of confusing villains (Rhys is “evil” but he’s also helping Feyre. Nesta is an “awful sister”, but she also is protective of Elain and tells Feyre essentially to go and be happy), both have faced significant trauma and grapple with self-loathing and feelings of not being good enough, and both ultimately find redemption and healing with their mates who love them. They also both currently exist in a strange parallel coming out of ACOSF where Rhys is supposedly “chosen by the Cauldron” and Nesta is “blessed by the Mother”- the two sacred entities of Prythian.

Intrigued? More specifics and text analysis under the cut

Mommy (and Daddy) Issues:

Both characters were basically raised by their mother’s alone and then lost them at a young age and that had a deep impact on them. Rhysand had a far more positive experience of being raised by his mother HOWEVER I would argue that it was still “grooming” of a type since she took him away to train in Illyria specifically so that he wouldn’t be influenced by his father.

Rhys’ mother did this out of love and Nesta’s mother groomed her out of a social climbing agenda, but it had the same effect- they both lost the parent who was their primary caregiver at a young age and they were both not close with their father’s because of their mother’s actions (again this was a good thing for Rhys, not as much for Nesta).

Parents Death: Rhys and Nesta both blame themselves for one of their parent’s death and are deeply affected by feeling like they failed someone important to them.

Rhys thinks that he is responsible for his mother and sister’s death because he gave Tamlin info

Rhys even says after this “It should have been me.”

Nesta feels that she was unable to save her father and she hates herself for it.

Rocky sibling relationship and Separation:

Rhysand and Cassian are obviously a lot further along in their sibling journey, but it’s stated that he and Cassian HATED each other and fought constantly essentially until Azriel arrived and then they decided to be “allies”.

Nesta and Feyre are also at each others throats but seem to put their differences aside in order to not upset Elain. (Even when Feyre first goes back to the human lands Nesta says NOPE NO FAE! But as soon as Elain asks her to do as Feyre says she agrees) and then Nesta states in ACOSF that she and Feyre were brought together by Elain to be allies in the war.

Rhysand and Cassian obviously grew into true brothers despite their adversarial, insulting, bitter beginning... and Nesta and Feyre after ACOSF have done the same. Obviously there’s still a lot of work to be done in that relationship, but the parallel stands (and is just strengthened by the fact that in both cases it’s the character with more power in the relationship- Nesta for being the oldest and Rhys for being the one whose family took Cassian in is then mated to the opposite sibling!)

Both have a parent who essentially separated them from their ‘siblings’ for their own benefit. Nesta’s mom isolated her as a child so that she could groom her and tell her how to maneuver her sisters when the time was right while Rhys’ father- afraid of his, Cassian, and Azriel’s combined power- separated them for 7 years through the first war to ensure they wouldn’t ally against him. Nesta was also separated from Feyre by Tamlin and tried to go to the wall to get her back but couldn’t get through- which is very reminiscent to me of the scene at the beginning of ACOWAR from the first war where Rhys is searching desperately but without hope for Cassian.

Shared Trauma and Learning to be “Evil” to protect their family:

both characters are sexual assault survivors who spend a chunk of their book (I’m counting ACOMAF as essentially Rhys’ book since that’s when we learn more about him as a character) grappling with that, coming to terms with it, and moving forward with a general attitude of “Never Again.” I would also argue that even their abusers are parallels as Rhysand was only ‘with’ Amarantha because he was trying to protect his family and Nesta was only ‘with’ Tomas because she thought his family might be able to take in and feed Elain (she says in ACOSF that she would give him whatever he wanted- her body meant nothing to her and Elain meant everything, which is essentially Rhys’ UTM mindset). In addition, both characters are able to escape their abusers out of love for Feyre. Rhys does so when Amarantha is about to kill Feyre, and Nesta does so because she realizes that Tomas would never go to the wall with her to save Feyre.

Beyond this, both characters express that it is the lack of control over their own lives that truly haunts them. Rhys when he felt like he had no choice but to be Amarantha’s puppet and Nesta with a lot of her life, but especially when she is forced into the cauldron. Both of these are things that make them feel like failures for not protecting others. Rhys is haunted that he couldn’t protect Feyre under the mountain and Nesta is haunted that she couldn’t protect Elain from the cauldron.

This leads both characters to have a terrifying power-surge nightmare brought on by their trauma (Rhys from Amarantha; Nesta from the Cauldron) that terrifies those around them and can only be stopped by their mate.

In addition to this, they both have a “persona” that they put on and sometimes feel like they can’t shake off, a face that they made to protect themselves and their family. Rhys with his “Court of Nightmares” persona that he uses UTM, in the Hewn City, and with the other High Lords until the war. Part of his growth is letting people see beyond that ‘most powerful high lord of darkness’ mask.

For Nesta this is expressed by her “wolves” that she uses to put up a wall between her and the people who mocked her and her family, and especially Elain. And her learning to open up with Cassian and her found family was really important for her growth

HOWEVER, they both also keep that persona. Rhys has his mask polished for when anyone might threaten the people he loves and so does Nesta. Neither of them truly gave up that side of themselves, the darkness, they simply learned to stop it from consuming them.

They also both LIKE doing this to their enemies. Rhys likes to toy with his enemies and torture those who would harm his family or betray him and so does Nesta- she revels in cutting down anyone who insults Elain and says in ACOSF that she’s felt the urge to do the same for Cassian. They both wield words like weapons and use their intelligence to ensure they are always one quip ahead of their enemies. Something that both Feyre and Cassian admire in their mates and try to emulate to a degree.

(Bonus points for the fact that in both cases their families did not ASK to be protected/sacrificed for.)

Found family and sacrifice:

Rhys calls Cassian and Azriel his “brothers” after becoming close while training and they conquer the blood rite together. Nesta calls Emerie and Gwyn her “sisters” after becoming close while training and they conquer the blood rite together. Rhys sacrifices himself to Amarantha in order to protect Cassian and Azriel (and Velaris). Nesta sacrifices herself to hold the path of Enalius to protect Emerie and Gwyn. There’s also a line in ACOMAF and a parallel line in ACOSF essentially about Nesta being willing to do anything- including “whore” herself- to protect Elain, and in order to protect his brother’s that’s exactly what Rhys did- “whore” himself to Amarantha.

Both are ‘saved by’ and feel not good enough for their mate:

I hesitate to use the word “saved by” because ultimately both characters have more agency than that, HOWEVER, both characters rely on their mate to a degree to pull them out of a very dark time and place. Feyre helps Rhys remember who he is and forgive himself for under the mountain and he even specifically calls her his “salvation.”

I don’t think I need to even say the Nesta part here, all of ACOSF is essentially Cassian helping Nesta climb out of a dark period so that they can heal together.

(Both also start connecting with their mates on a “just sex” situation.)

Both characters think that because of the things they’ve done and the darkness inside of them that they don’t deserve the people they have been mated to.

Obviously there are many differences, but the characters are similar in a lot of ways and what I think this really highlights is just how true that line is in ACOSF about Nesta being a wolf that was never allowed to learn how to be a wolf. Meanwhile Rhys is 500 years older and has always had power and agency of some kind even at his lowest point. Nesta didn’t have that power and wasn’t allowed to really unleash herself so she armed herself with a steel exterior to make up for that lack of power and control. Which is very similar to what Rhysand did when he felt he didn’t have power under the mountain- put on a cold face, not let anyone in, and act cruel in order to get through it.

Overall it’s an interesting character study because in a lot of ways these are very similar characters, but there is such a MASSIVE divide among the fandom of liking and hating one or both of them. Ultimately, I do think that a lot of the hate Nesta gets is because she’s a woman and female characters simply aren’t allowed to have the same flaws as male ones- which is kind of Nesta’s whole life story. BUT I think that Rhysand actually gets unintentionally screwed over by the narrative in one big way. Becuase my final paralell is that I think a lot of people came around on Nesta when they saw in her perspective that she knows she has problems and how much she was struggling… and I also think that Rhysand is so hated by those who dislike him because of Feyre’s ‘he can do no wrong’ perspective. I think if we saw more of Rhysand internally struggling and knowing that he made the wrong call sometimes and second guessing himself he’d be a lot more likeable character. We know he’s capable of this because when Cassian calls him out on the training roof for always thinking the worst of Nesta he just says “you’re right. I’m sorry” and he even *kinda* admits some wrong when he’s so shocked by how deep Nesta’s trauma is. Feyre and the rest of the IC constantly exalting Rhys as perfect when he so clearly isn’t and in fact has a lot of the same “flaws” as Nesta is probably the most frustrating thing about the character, which ultimately I think is kind of unfair because we know from his few perspectives that he doesn’t see himself that way.

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donutloverxo · 4 years ago

Text

Tainted

*gifs not mine*

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - this is inspired by a hc @sweater-daddiesdumbdork once wrote me and gave me a frigging murder kink. Life ruiner😡😡

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Steve saves you and plans on never letting you go again.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), kidnappings, being held hostage, murder, blood, non descriptive violence, captain kink, slight murder kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 6.8k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

One of the most amazing thing about living with you was that Steve never had to come home to an empty house. He was now responsible for you, he’d have to shoot you a text message, he had gotten pretty good at texting, thanks to your guidance, or call you, he definitely liked calling and hearing your voice better. He’ll always be old school.

You’d get that slight waver in your voice as you tried to pretend that you weren’t sad, he could see your cute little pout through the phone. And while he would never want to cause you any sort of pain, knowing that you’d be waiting for him, that you’re missing him when he’s away, made him feel wanted.

That even someone like him deserved love and happiness and a safe, boring life. That may be there was a reason he died only to wake up again in a strange new world.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t come with your own set of challenges. You were messy if anything, leaving clutter everywhere and putting off doing your dishes and laundry for days. Maybe not the most practical but definitely the cutest roommate in the world.

He’d learn to put up with it because it was worth it. Maybe, he could even learn to 'let loose' a little as people always recommended to him.

At first, he couldn’t wait to ask you to marry him. He had even impulsively bought a ring with your birthstone, he knew you were obsessed with them and astrology and maybe even dark magic. But then you surprised him with a date to an old diner and introduced him as your boyfriend to your friends.

He liked your friends quite a lot, he couldn’t really understand what they were talking about half the time. From what he could tell - by their fascination with his muscles and all the touching and squeezing to his biceps, them wanting to hear about his life before the ice - it seemed that they liked him too.

But hearing you call him that, your guy, your boyfriend, your beau, as your friend Stacey had put it, he decided that he wasn’t quite ready to let go of this blissful courting period. He was rushing things.

He needed to live in the moment and just enjoy being your boyfriend for now, he had all the time in the world to wife you up - preferably not to late though.

He was so unbelievably happy, ecstatic to see you, to surprise you, his mission ending a week early he got home as soon as he could. He thought of maybe taking you to Vermont for the weekend, he had never been but Nat told him it’d be a nice little getaway and that you’d love it.

His wide smile slowly fade away as he looked at the state of his door - the latch broken. Forced entry. Somebody broke his door in. He pushed the door wide open and made his way in.

He knew what was to come next but he willed that thought away. Maybe you kicked it in yourself, maybe you forgot your keys. He kept telling himself that because he was terrified of thinking the alternative.

He stepped in as soon as he was able to shake himself out of his haze. Looking at the state of his, and your, apartment. A broken vase, and the coffee table smashed in.

Crouching down to take a closer look he saw some blood on the ceramic. Whoever did this to your home, better hope that it’s wasn’t yours.

He got up, directing his simmering rage towards his new mission. He didn’t panic, not yet, he couldn’t give himself that kind of luxury. His mind coming up with ten different to find you and make the bastards who did this pay.

NOBody can hurt the people he loves, especially his girl, and get away with it.

***

Your eyes fluttered open before scrunching shut to adjust to the harsh fluorescent light. You blinked, looking around you while squinting.

Some sort of empty grey room... a window to the side but it was dark outside. You dress sticking to your skin as your whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Three men in a corner, one for them shouting at the others in a foreign language.

You felt a yip of pain radiating in your arms and then realised they were tied up behind you - strapped to a creaky chair.

You tried to shake free of them, by wiggling your wrists but then winced at the burn it caused, capturing the attention of your kidnappers.

One of them smiled at you, walking towards you.

“Finally awake, are we?” he asked in an abnormally chirpy way. “You were out for quiet some time. Did you sleep well?”

He squatted before you, you could see his face, his cold grey eyes betraying the warm smile that graced his lips. Many white scars littered over his jaw...

And then you remembered.

How you rushed home when you felt someone was following you. Locking the door, you tried to call Steve but couldn’t get through to him.

And then your stalker broke into your home. You tried to smash his head in with a vase but couldn’t really do any real damage. Everything was hazy after that. Maybe he drugged you - you couldn’t recall.

You exhaled shakily when you realised he was watching you both from the corner. You could never forget his dark hoodie and hair. Or fresh cut on his forehead. You had never so much as hurt a fly or even slapped anyone. How you managed to smash his head in you’ll never know.

You looked at the man before you again when you heard him calling out your name, his smile haltered for a moment as he looked back to your stalker.

“I’m sorry about that, he’s a rookie. He’ll be reprimanded soon enough. This wasn’t exactly our plan but we’ve decided to improvise.”

You tried to speak but with your throat and mouth dry and your mind in shock the words wouldn’t come out.

“Oh, that’s alright, don’t struggle. We don’t want anything to do with you, you’re just a normal plain Jane going about your life, aren’t you?”

You could only give him a weak nod, still trying your best to shake yourself free of your bounds without him noticing.

“That’s right. You haven’t done anything wrong, you don’t deserve to have anything bad happen to you, do you?”

You nodded again. Your breath hitched when he got closer to you, in your face, his hands planted on your bare thighs with your skirt pooled just below your hips.

“But we don’t always get what we deserve. You’re close to the Captain, that’s right Michael’s told me all about how taken he is with you. I mean... I never would’ve imagined Captain America would pick someone like you but to each their own,” he cupped your cheek, the cracks in his palm harsh against your soft skin.

“What do you want?” you asked, not looking away from him.

“I want justice. For things to be in the right order. You’ll have to suffer for it, but know that it’s for a good cause.”

“You’re wrong,” you shook your head, “he’ll come for me.”

“We’re counting on that,” he snickered.

You’re not sure what came over you, all you knew was that you wanted his disgusting hands off of you, “He’ll come for me, and then you’ll regret ever touching me.”

“Uh, I don’t know about this,” you pulled on a thread from your skirt with your right hand, your other hand in Steve’s as he held onto your waist, pulling you into his side. “It’ll be inside me?” you shuddered.

“Yes, but,” Bruce scratched his head, he was adorable like that. You never would’ve imagined him to be the hulk, a 'rage monster’. “it’s not as bad as you think. You won’t even feel it. All shield agents and Avengers have one. Except Thor, because that wouldn’t be of any use. The radius is only on earths surface. You would’ve thought that would be enough,” he chuckled.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, looking at the chip, smaller than an acrylic nail, watching Bruce load it up.

“I know it’s not ideal, doll. But I’ll feel much better knowing I can find you, in case something goes wrong.” He kissed your temple, as you braced yourself.

“Will it hurt?” you gulped as Bruce lined the shooter or gun, by the looks of it, to your forearm.

“Just a little. You’ll barely feel it.” He gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Look at me, pup,” Steve gripped your chin, moving your head till you looked into his blue eyes, he pressed his lips to yours, massaging your tongue with his to distract you.

“Mm,” you winced and moaned into his mouth when you felt the piercing pain. It was like getting a flu shot but you had never having been a huge fan of needles either.

He released his hold on you as Bruce worked on cleaning your the blood seeping through your pierced skin. “You did good.” Steve said.

“Do I get a sucker?” You asked Bruce and he chuckled - as if you were joking, you do not joke about candy, “No I really want one.”

“Let’s keep this between us.” Steve told you both.

“Of course,” Bruce nodded, “I can keep tracker dormant till we need it but are you sure?”

“I’m not sure who I can trust.” But he knew he could trust his teammates.

You sniffled, keeping your tears at bay because really something so little shouldn’t make you cry, rubbing your hand over your wounded bicep as Bruce handed you some gummy bears.

“They’re Tony’s. He leaves snacks everywhere, it’s annoying.”

“Thank you.” You blinked up at him and offered some to Steve.

You never thought you’d need it. Until now, you were sure your friends or your mother would notice that you’ve been gone and Steve will find out and track you down. You knew he would. He had to.

He frowned, his nails digging into your cheekbones, pluckering your lips, “Where’s all that confidence coming from?” he quirked a curious brow up, “He’ll walk right in and pay for everything he’s done,” he snorted.

“You’re way underprepared to take someone like him on,” shut up, shut up, shut up, why the fuck are you egging him on? “He’s strong, he’s a survivor.” Even without the serum, he survived an abusive household, being bullied, being sick, and you knew how protective he could be. To the point where it was downright irritating.

“We’ve got all the time in the world to prepare, you should be worrying about yourself,” he spat.

You had always been bold, even in the most inappropriate of situations. Like when you lectured a boy for over an hour on respecting boundaries for throwing spitballs at you, in kindergarten. Steve even said that he fell for that ‘spunk' in you.

‘Well-behaved women rarely make history’ your mother had told you.

And really, you liked that about yourself as well. You liked that you found a man that would encourage that side of you instead of calling you ��difficult’ or ‘bossy’.

However, you immediately regretted everything you had said. Not because it was untrue, but because your captor took out a sharp pocket knife, a dark glint in his eyes.

“We only need you alive,” he said as you gulped, “I suppose, it wouldn’t matter if you’re missing a finger or two.”

You frantically shook your head, choking on a sob. “No,” you pleaded, “you’ll... he will find me and you will - ”

“Go to prison at best. It’s a risk we’re all willing to take,” he put the blunt end of the knife against your cheek, “We have to do something to kill the time.”

You couldn’t breath, your heart hammering in your chest, what if he doesn’t come for you? You won’t be able to do anything about it. It wasn’t like you could protect yourself, at least in this situation, all you could do was wait for him.

You shut your eyes, and braced yourself for the pain. Except... it never came, you simply heard someone fall down, some sort of clattering sound.

Upon opening your eyes you saw one of his friends face down before your in the corner, the other guy, your lovely stalker, drawing out his gun, looking at the only window to your left. You swore you a saw a glimpse of a flying disk knocking your stalker out.

The man before you cursed under his breath, “Get. Up. Come on!” he ordered.

“Yeah, if I could do that I probably would’ve,” you snarked, still trying to get your aching wrists free.

You barely even registered - who could only be your Captain - sneaking up behind him, snapping his neck with his hands in a matter of seconds. He collapsed on the ground and you could finally see Steve.

His clenched jaw and cold eyes softened up on seeing you, you couldn’t help but let out a sob as you realised you were going to be free.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he soothed you, kissing your forehead before swiftly free your hands.

You stood up on wobbly legs, holding onto his arms for support, “Steve,” you breathed out, “you came for me.”

“Of course I did,” he sighed, gently pushing your face against his chest as he hugged you close to him. “As if I’d ever abandon you,” he smoothed a hand over your back and decided to not dwell on your comment. This wasn’t about him, you were in shock.

“I was so scared,” you sniffled, “he said, he - ” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you broke down in a fit of sobs and hiccups.

“You’re safe now,” he promised.

“You - did you kill him?” you pushed away from him to look up at his face so you could take him in.

You had never seen him in his uniform. Only ever seeing him on the news but he had his cowl on and a suit that was much more on brand for ‘Captain America’ than the darker one he had on now. It made him look bigger - if that was even possible. Bigger than the shield now strapped to his back.

His usually clean shaven face had the faintest shadow to it while his hair was slicked back. He looked beautiful, so soft and innocent, definitely not someone who’s capable of hurting anyone.

“He hurt you,” he replied, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised wrists, “and so many others, he got what was coming to him.”

“You knew him?”

“Yes. He got away the last time we tried to catch him - but we don’t have to talk about that right now. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m just thirsty and I really want to lay down,” you murmured, resting your head on the star in the middle of his chest.

He pressed a hand to his ear, letting his team know that he had found you. You vaguely saw agents clad in black gear storm the room.

“We did a sweep of the place. No one else is here,” Natasha said. “How you doing?” and then frowned when you didn’t respond.

“She’s tired. It’s okay, love,” he kissed your temple, snaking a hand under your knees and picking you up with ease.

You weakly nodded, wrapping your hands around his neck, glad to be babied by him because you didn’t have the strength to stand.

“They didn’t give you anything to eat?” Nat scoffed as you shook your head.

“How long have I been here?” you looked at Steve, struggling to stay awake.

“A day and a half. We’ll get you fixed up,” he swore, carrying you towards the quinget.

“Where are we?” you nuzzled your nose against the rough kevlar of his suit.

“Bermuda,” he said.

“Oo, I’ve always wanted to come here... just maybe not like this,” you chuckled but Steve didn’t find it all that amusing. You cupped his cheek in your palm, hoping to maybe calm him down a bit before falling asleep.

***

You vaguely heard a familiar voice calling out your name, you’d recognise it anywhere, it was one of your favorites, one you’d known your entire life.

“Mom?” you muttered, opening your eyes and looking around the room to look for her. You smiled when you saw her sitting on a chair just beside your bed, the faint, annoying beeping told you that you were probably in a hospital.

“Hey there, honey,” she smiled back at you, her eyes misty as she pressed her lips to your cheek. “Do you have any idea how much you scared me?”

“I’m sorry,” you tried to sit up as she fluffed your pillow up to support you. “I was... um... kidnapped.” Saying it out loud made it feel so ridiculous. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought.

“Yes, Steve filled us in on everything. So, Captain America, huh?” she raised her brows.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously. Doing a once over to your large, mostly white room to look for him. He wouldn’t just up and leave you, would he?

“How long has it been going on?” she asked.

“Um, three or four months?” you winced when you realised just how much trouble you were in.

“And, you live with him. Linda filled us in on everything. You’re quitting your job too now.”

“It’s - it’s not as bad as it sounds...”

“Never mind that, you need to rest. Then you won’t have to worry about all this. I’m taking you home with me. And you’re never coming back here again.”

“What? No! I still have over two years of school left.”

“You can do it online! You can find just as a good a job in Queens.”

“No! I’m not coming,” you whined.

“Well, you’re not living with a man you barely know either.”

You were interrupted by a knock on the door. A doctor entering, apologising for disturbing you and Steve right behind her. He still hadn’t changed out of his suit.

He stood at the end of your bed, squeezing your foot to let you know he was there for you as your mother glared daggers at him.

“Looks like you’re doing good. Blood sugars back to normal as well...” the doctor said, “You’re free to go home.”

“Really?” you smiled. So done with everything. Sleeping in your own bed sounded like heaven.

“Yes, let us know if you need anything.” She looked over your chart again and then left.

“Good then, you can come home now.”

“No! I’m going to my apartment in Manhattan, the one I share with Steve.” You rolled your eyes. Pleading Steve to back you up with your eyes.

He cleared his throat, “Um, ma'am, you can come stay with us, if you like.”

He held your mothers gaze, to let her know that he was serious and earnest.

He knew he wasn’t perfect by any means. He had a million flaws and cuts that ran deeper than anybody would ever know but he always thought, or maybe arrogantly assumed, that if nothing else he was someone ‘you take home to mama’ as Clint had once put it. He thought that your parents, like most, would like him. That he’d easily get their blessing to be with their daughter. He was known to be America’s golden boy after all.

But your mother had ripped him a new one as soon as she saw him. Accusing him of abusing his power to woo you. That you were here because of him. That he’s not worthy of you.

And all he could do was stand there and take it because everything she had said was the truth. He didn’t deserve you, you were captured and possibly traumatised because of him.

At the same time, he couldn’t just let you go. Not till he gets to the bottom of who had hurt you and makes sure that you’re safe from now on.

“No, thank you.” She scoffed, looking back at you and shaking her head. “What are you doing with your life?”

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes but being with Steve definitely isn’t one,” you looked over to him, he looked just as tired as you, “I just want to go home. My home with Steve.”

“Fine, I’ve always let you make your own decisions.” she sighed, finally giving in.

“And I’ve never disappointed you.”

“That’s debatable,” she snorted, “I’ll come check on you tomorrow then. Maybe send me your address. You know? Something you should’ve done months ago.” She returned to glaring at Steve.

“I’ve only been living with him for a month!” you tried to defend yourself.

***

“I can take off my own clothes, Stevie,” you giggled, him kneeling before you to help you out of the sweets the med bay gave you. Your dress was dirty and ragged now. “I really liked that dress though. I don’t have many like it. You think we can get it back?”

“Maybe, I’ll see what I can do, doll,” he kissed your bare thigh before rolling your panties down your legs.

“You’re kinda dirty too,” you remarked, sniffing him. He didn’t smell bad, as if Steve would ever smell bad to you. Just a bit of gunpowder, like that of firecrackers, a bit pungent instead of his normal piney and woodsy scent.

“Thank you,” he deadpanned before cracking a smile, “I was just excited to see you. Or I would’ve showered before coming home and then I didn’t get a chance to.”

He worked on unbuttoning your shirt He insisted on you getting a button up instead of a t-shirt considering how sore your arms were from being toed up for so long. Tied up... like an animal.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, caressing his cheek, “come back to me.”

“Sorry, I’m just... I don’t know,” he shook his head. He couldn’t let you know the guilt and despair he felt, you’d end up comforting him instead of the other way around. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Yeah. Still can’t believe any of this was real.” Running your hands up and down his suit, the feel of the material almost soothing to touch. “You wanna shower with me?”

“Don’t know, doll. That showers pretty small.”

He did have a pretty generous salary but opted to live in a more modest apartment, he never took more than he needed anyway, with a small shower. Not too small, but definitely not big enough for you both.

“We’ll make do, come on. I’ll make you squeaky clean.”

He took over ten minutes to get rid of the suit. You watched intently as he removed more latches than you could count.

“Is it bulletproof?” you wanted to know.

“Yes. But probably not as good as a vest. I’ve never been shot so I wouldn’t know.” He answered, taking off his undershirt.

“It’s funny because I always thought y’all were naked under there,” you chuckled, and then your jaw dropped as he took off his briefs.

You had never seen his cock while it was soft before. He was always more than excited when you got to him. It was amazing how pretty he looked either way.

“You and so many other people,” he almost shuddered at the thought of having been asked the same question so many times.

After making sure the water was hot enough, you both stood under it.

You took some of the lavender wash you had bought from lush, squeezing it on your sponge. Steve, bless him, was amazing at so many things. Shopping - it seemed was not one of them. All he had in his bathroom was a bar of soap, one toothbrush and a vintage straight razor.

Which just won’t do for you, so you took it upon yourself to stock the whole place up with your favorite stuff. The lavender being Steve’s favorite, you remembered how flustered you got when he told you that you smelled good. And then tried to explain that you always smell good while turning redder than a tomato.

You did his front, asking him to bent his neck a bit so you could wash his hair because he was almost a foot taller than you. You were about to do his legs, you’d take any excuse to feel up his thick thighs but he told you he’d do the rest himself.

Taking the sponge from you, he ran it under some water, working on cleaning you thoroughly. Under your arms, your breasts, your stomach, between your legs and then your legs.

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen - he knew that since the moment he had met you. But something about washing you up like that felt so intimate even though there was nothing erotic about it.

After washing you thoroughly he wrapped you up in a towel, “My cute lil' burrito,” he booped your nose.

You puffed your cheeks out, you weren’t sure if you liked that nickname. Observing just how gentle he was with you, helping you into a cotton nightie, as opposed to drying himself off hastily and carelessly before pulling some sweats and briefs on.

“Don’t wear a shirt,” you pleaded, he looked amazing shirtless, but that wasn’t the only reason, you really liked feeling his skin on hours, pressing kissing on his perfect, smooth, golden skin, ”pretty please.” Right now, he’d give you anything you wanted and you intended on milking that as much as you can.

“Alright, doll,” he replied, pulling you up in his arms again as if you were his bride, as you giggled so sweetly, “now, what would you like to eat? No take out, it has to be healthy. And remember my culinary skills are limited,” he said, carrying you to the living room and putting you on the couch as he started working in the kitchen.

“Stevie, I’m not hungry. Well, that’s not true, I’d like some ice cream,” fluttering your lashes at him, “Mint chocolate chip? I’m pretty sure we have some.”

“Of course, puppy,” you smiled, at the prospect of getting a sweet treat and the nickname, “as soon as you eat something.” He added and you huffed in annoyance.

He whipped up a sandwich for you, two for him because he was starving, some peach iced tea so you wouldn’t eat his ear off while complaining.

You only picked at your food, giving more than half of it to him. You truly didn’t feel like eating, instead craving some cuddles with him.

You tried striking up a conversation with him multiple times. Not because you didn’t like silence. You did when it came to him, you could go hours without talking and it would feel so serene and perfect. You never had to talk just for the sake of it when you were with him.

But you had come to read Steve pretty well. He seemed distant and closed off. The air around you both thick with tension. You tried to ease it while telling him about how brave you were while quitting and didn’t cry at all, how Tony dropped by and was apparently stalking you - which was a bad idea because it seemed to make him angry, clench his jaw tight, his brows furrowed as he placed your plates in the sink.

Unsure if you had done something wrong or were mean to Tony, who was technically his boss, you twiddled with your fingers, “Um... I - I’m sorry,” you stuttered, trying to hold back tears. Spending the night at your mom’s house sounded like the better choice now.

“Hm?” he looked back at you, he could do the dishes tomorrow, “what for?”

“I shouldn’t have been snarky with Tony. I know he’s your boss and all that but he’s kinda cocky... And I got really mad when I found out he did like a ‘background check' on me. I mean I get why he would but still. I can apologize to him.”

“No no,” he shook his head, kneeling before you, taking your hands in his, “you misunderstood, love. I’m not mad at you, I could never REALLY be mad at you. It’s Tony I’m angry with, he went behind my back, ambushed you at work.”

“To be fair, you did the same when you asked me out,” you snickered as a blush crept up his neck.

“Right.” He finally cracked a genuine smile placing feather light kisses on your knuckles and the to the bandages on your hands.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you asked, running your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails.

“It’s probably better if we don’t talk about it,” he said, laying his head on your lap. Your slight scratching massaging his never-resting head.

“I think we should. My mom said I don’t know you. And to some extent, she is right. I don’t. Maybe I’m just imagining things but... sometimes it feels like you’re holding back.”

He gathered enough courage to look up at you, your almond shaped eyes looking down at his and he knew that he could talk to you about anything. He did. But there will always be that little voice that tells him that he shouldn’t. He would only trouble you.

“Don’t you pride yourself on being honest?” you caressed his scratchy cheek.

He snorted. He really was dense enough to think he was the perfect son-in-law package.

“I just, the way you looked at me, when I killed that man, I’m afraid that you’re scared of me now. That’s the last thing I want. It’s my worst nightmare really.” He leant into your touch.

“Steve, that wasn’t because I’m scare of you. It was because I’m fond of you. You were so strong and brave and you saved me. I liked being the damsel in distress more than I thought,” He chuckled at that, his doubts a bit relieved, “that’s... not all though.” You murmured.

“What is it?” he wanted to know.

“You, um, the fact that you would do that for me... it’s just. I never thought anyone would love me that much.”

“I only regret doing it in front of you. I’m sorry you had to see that or go through any of that.”

“I’m not a child, Steve,” you rolled your eyes.

“Of course not, but you’re you. You’re pure and an angel. I - I’m tainted - tainted by blood, tainted by war - ”

“Steve, that’s not true. You’re not, you’re the pure-est person I know. War and - that doesn’t define you.”

“You wouldn’t feel that way if you knew about all the things I have done, sweetheart.” The sweet nickname he had for you, which now he used in a patronising tone, “I let my best friend die. And I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“What’re you talking about?” you frowned. You heard about Bucky from him and your history textbooks but you don’t remember reading anything like that.

“It’s... something I’m not ready to get into.” He put his forehead on your knee. He knew you loved him but there was only so much baggage you would be willing to accept.

“Okay. You can take your time and tell me if and when you’re ready, baby.” You went back to idly playing with his, “But I need you to know that I love you. Nothing you could ever say will change that. To think that... for a second I thought that you wouldn’t come for me.”

He snapped his head back up, “What?”

“I thought, that you’d be busy with your mission. You wouldn’t even find out I was missing or... you just wouldn’t care enough to come yourself. I mean, I knew you would come, obviously. But you have other more important work...”

“No,” he shook his head, “How could you ever think anything's more important to me than you and your life?”

“Yeah, I was being stupid.”

“You can be a bit silly sometimes, doll.” He nuzzled your tummy, making you giggle. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I was so scared I’d never see you again,” he confessed against your nightgown.

“That’d be a bit hard to do. Keeping an eye on me like that. But if it means I get to spend more time with you then I’m down.”

You convinced Steve to let you have some ice cream. He only let you have half a scope, telling you that you’d have trouble sleeping otherwise.

“I’ve been sleeping for most of the last two days.” You tried to argue but it was hard to change his mind once he had it set on something.

You both brushed your teeth together and he stared at you as you went about your night-time skincare routine.

Cleanse, serum, moisturize, sleep mask.

All he did was wash his face and he still looked fucking perfect.

He stayed true to his word, sticking by your side to the point where you had to kick him outside to have some privacy to pee in peace. He was right there waiting for you when you opened the door.

Finally, you were in your cosy bed. Light’s off and cuddled tight with your boyfriend. Your stuffed unicorn and your Captain America plushie to your other side.

With your legs tangled together, you rubbed your feet up and down his legs. Which were unfortunately covered with his sweats.

“Steve,” you whined.

“Yes?”

“Take off these damn pants. They’re hurting my skin. So friggin' prickly.”

“Sorry, doll. I know how precious your skin is.” He sounded like he was mocking you but he followed, pushing his pants away.

“Good?” he asked holding you close to him again.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed against his naked chest. “Let’s sleep like this everyday, please.”

“Sure.” He replied. He liked being a ‘human furnace' for you.

He wasn’t going to fall asleep. Not after everything that happened. He hadn’t slept well in the past week but he was afraid that if he’d shut his eyes for a single moment and you’d be gone. This time, he wouldn’t be lucky enough to find you.

He hadn’t been to crunch or even prayed in a while. Losing his faith a long time ago after all the terrible things he had seen. But he had prayed when he came back found his home to be wreck. He prayed that you’d come back to him because there were some things he just could not control. Nobody could.

After a while he lowly whispered your name. “Are you awake?” he asked.

It was silly but he missed you. Even though you were laying right next to him in his arms - the safest place you could be.

“Yeah. I can’t sleep. Even though I’m so tired.” You yawned. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” You snorted. “You’re not a good liar, Steven.”

“Can I ask you something? And you can say no if you want I won’t mind.”

“Sure, shoot.”

“Can I, um, have you? I just need to feel you, sweetheart. After everything – I need to know you’re really here.” he was cut off by your lips crashing on his.

You winced when your teeth clamped together but he soothed your upper lip by nipping at it with his tongue.

“Steve,” you panted as he broke awake, shifting under the sheets and pushing the helm of your gown up.

He placed quick open mouthed kisses all over your thighs, over your stretch marks, spreading your thighs further to accommodate his broad shoulders, he made sure to check in with you again.

All you did was push his head towards your heat, begging him to eat your pussy - as if he needed to be told twice.

Swirling and spreading your glistening juices of arousal around your weeping lips, he dove in for his prize. Drawing patterns on your bundle of nerves before sucking at it harshly, he plunged his tongue inside. Lacing his fingers with yours and pinning your hands down by your hips.

You kept desperately pushing your hips up, wanting more. Arching your back up and holding onto his hands tightly as he lightly grazed his teeth over your clit.

“Say my name, sweetheart,” he demanded against your heat, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

Your orgasm washing over you in waves, electrifying every nerve in your body as you clamped your legs around his head, holding onto him.

He kept lapping you up through it, taking everything you’d give him.

He loved worshipping you - spending as much time as he could between your legs - because you were his goddess but right now, he just needed to feel you.

He climbed up the bed, hovering over you, he pushed two thick fingers inside you mouth till the second knuckle.

“Get them nice and wet, doll.” He instructed.

You moaned around him, making loud suckling noises, “Yesh, Captain,” it came out muffled, what with your mouth full.

“Captain?” he smirked. You had only ever called him that as a joke, he never knew being called that in a salacious way could stroke a fire inside him. Making him them painfully hard in the confines of his tight briefs. He pulled his fingers out of you, pushing his hand down till it was between your legs. Nudging your entrance with them.

“Sorry, it slipped out.” You were too unabashed to feel guilty.

He scoffed, “Say it again.”

Pushing his fingers inside you. Pumping them at a fast pace before you even had a second to think. It was desperate and fast so unlike how it is usually between you both. He needed to be inside you but your needs would always come before his.

“Captain,” you mewled, chewing on your lower lip and holding onto his face. You couldn’t see him clearly in the dark but you still need to look at him. “I told them my Captain would come for me. And you did...” he swallowed your screams with his mouth as you clenched around his fingers.

“That’s right,” he groaned, sucking your slick off of his fingers, “I’ll always protect you. I’ll do anything for you.”

Shaky fingers working on taking his cock out of the hard confines of his uncomfortable underwear. He didn’t waste a single second before sinking inside you, as deep as he could. He moaned into your neck, “So fucking tight, doll. Like you were made for me,” he bit your neck.

Drawing his hips back he thrusted inside you, brushing against your g-spot, making you keen.

He stopped immediately, propping himself up on his elbows he looked down at your hooded eyes. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, “Yes, it’s just so good,” as if to prove it you clenched around his length, to make him feel all of you just as he was doing to you.

He groaned at that, his balls already tightening, aching for release, “What’s the safe word?”

“Mm... buttercream.”

“That’s right, good girl,” he cooed as you whimpered at his praise as he withdrew his hips again, loving you in a slow soft way.

Pushing your gown up till it was above your breasts - he didn’t really have the patience to properly take it off. He sucked a spot just above your breast, so you’d remember his love every time you looked at it. Your nipples pebbled and goose bumps painted your skin, with your cunt tight around him he knew you were close.

Wrapping his mouth around one bud, He pulled and pinched at the other. He stopped his ministrations, he needed to look at you as you climaxed. To know that you needed him at least half as much as he needed you.

Your face scrunched up as you met your bliss, your nails drawing blood from shoulders - not that he cared in the slightest.

His hips retracting and thrusting as he lost all sense of rhythm and finesse chasing his end as you laid boneless beneath him. He kept fucking into you, filling you to the brim.

He heaved above you, making sure not to collapse on top of you. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of you.

Pulling you close to him, his lips pressed up against the crown of your head, he whispered sweet nothings to you. “My brave girl.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “You’re so strong, sweetheart.”

“Stronger than the hulk?”

“Yes, definitely,” he replied, tracing the bandages wrapped around your wrists. “Now try to get some sleep.”

“Oh, I’ll sleep alright. Thanks to you.” You giggled.

***

tags will be in the reblog.

this was my longest fic!i know it wasnt the best conclusion to something i drew outover 4 chapters but its the best i could do. sorry for weird format tumblrs mad i had too much fun lol. comments and reblogs are really appreciated!!

#the donut series #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #berry writes

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azucanela · 4 years ago

Text

SKIN DEEP DECEPTION

PAIRING: TSUKISHIMA KEI X READER [SOULMATE AU]

SUMMARY: In a world where the number of lies your soulmate tells each day is written in your wrist, Y/N has found that her soulmate has two moods. No lies, or dozens at a time.

WARNINGS: CURSE WORDS (WH*RE). ANGST. MILD VIOLENCE.

WORD COUNT: 4K.

A/N: happy anniversary? marriage? engagement? @bbykutos <3 this is my first time writing an au so pls lmk how i did and uhhh idk i feel like this is bad

HAIKYUU!! MASTERLIST

IN A WORLD FILLED WITH LIES only one person knew when you were really telling the truth. That person being your soulmate. Though it’s not always a lover, that tended to be the most common occurrence when it came to soulmates. The whole point of soulmates had been to have someone perfect for you, though this wasn’t always the case of course.

Growing up, Y/N had always viewed soulmates as a false ideal, a distant fantasy, though the number on her wrist was confirmation enough that soulmates existed— that didn’t mean they were truly meant to be.

She’d learnt that the hard way.

At times, kids would find their soulmates in their first year of school; which normally went either really well or really poorly. Others in high school, college, some mundane moment at a coffee shop or a more dramatic one at one of the biggest moments of their lives. Sometimes it was romantic, other times it was chaotic, or just plain dull. Most of the times finding your soulmate meant catching them in the midst of a lie... several times. Sometimes people found love, an enemy, or... they just found their soulmate.

Y/N wasn’t the only person who’d become rather apathetic towards the whole idea, though there was no denying the small part of her— in the back of her mind, the part she’d tried so hard to bury— that hoped, that wished, that dreamed of a soulmate who cared for her.

And yet, even her own parents were an example of this false ideal.

Not that it mattered, seeing as she was yet to meet her soulmate. There was no reason to dwell on it, that had become abundantly clear to Y/N, and yet here she was, allowing her mind to wander as she stared— maybe even glared— at her wrist in class.

“I need to use the restroom.”

The word’s pull her out of her daze, eyes rising back up to the board where her teacher stands— smile on her face as she replies, “of course! Go on ahead.” Y/N’s eyes trail over to the student in question, the blonde boy seated beside her, Tsukishima Kei. She was familiar with him seeing as they’d gone to the same middle school. He also happened to be the class’ star pupil due to his stellar intellect.

With a frown, Y/N exhales deeply and looks back down only to come face to face with the number on her wrist having increased by one.

1 lie so far today, huh.

Most days Y/N had found that the lies didn’t start piling up until the afternoon, other times there were slim to none, and assuming they were in high school as well— what were they lying about. It truly left her baffled at what in the world they could be saying. Aside from this curiosity, the thought of her soulmate returned to the back of her mind as a hand tapped her shoulder, drawing her out of her thoughts once more.

A green haired boy stands beside her— she recognizes him, Yamaguchi Tadashi. They’d been friends in middle school and remained so when they’d entered high school, though they weren’t as close as they used to be, Yamaguchi had tried and failed to keep it that way.

The bitter memories resurface, though Y/N simply pushes them to the back of her mind alongside all the over thoughts she doesn’t want to address as she turns to Yamaguchi with a smile, “hey Yamaguchi, what’s up?”

He offers her a nervous smile, eyes flickering across the room before returning to her before he replies, “I was wondering if you wanted to be in my group?”

Tilting her head at him, a small laugh escapes Y/N as she asks, “group?”

For a moment Yamaguchi’s brows furrow, though his eyes drift towards her single rolled up sleeve, the number one displayed on it, “oh! We have a group project for the next few weeks.” Comes his response.

“Project...” Y/N mumbles out, eyes scanning the room as she watches people enter clusters of three, talking and writing things down in their journal— even exchanging numbers. “Right.”

She had a feeling that Tsukishima’s sunny disposition hadn’t done them any favors when it came to getting other members to join their group projects. Coupled with Yamaguchi’s need to end all conflict between his friends.

That must be how they ended up here.

Opening her mouth to speak, Y/N quickly shut it as she searched for the right words, bringing an arm to the back of her neck as she scratched it awkwardly. “I just don’t know if that would be the best idea—”

“If what would be the best idea?” Behind Yamaguchi comes Tsukishima, hands shoved into his pockets as he looks between them.

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Y/N looks away, brows furrowing as memories begin to surface. Seeing as the last time they’d interacted, Tsukishima had elected to use some... crude words. Well, Y/N had expected awkwardness when they inevitably spoke to each other once more, and the fact that he seemed to unfazed left her wanting to wipe the smirk off his face.

Preferably in a violent way.

Yamaguchi seems to answer for her as he replies, “well I was thinking since we need groups of three, Y/N would just join us.” Yamaguchi looks between the pair before saying, “like old times.”

Y/N wants to gag.

Moving to stand, she offers Yamaguchi a tight lipped smile, “I’ll probably join a different group but—”

“There are no other groups.” Tsukishima interrupts, though there’s no emotion in his words, as though he’s simply stating a fact. Because clearly, he doesn’t care.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N nods slowly, looking between the both of them before saying, “well you both have my number.” The bell rings, and Y/N can’t help but let out a sigh of relief as she continues, “text me about the project whenever.” Before immediately grabbing her bag from beside her desk and swinging it over her shoulder.

Tsukishima is watching as she leaves, a sigh escaping him as he adjusts his glasses before turning to Yamaguchi, “you’ll need to make a group chat.”

“Why?” He asks, brows furrowing as he pulls at his phone to do so regardless, fingers typing away at the screen.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Tsukishima shrugs, “she has me blocked.”

Yamaguchi pauses his typing, sighing. Though he doesn’t look up at Tsukishima as he replies, “Of course she does— well I would too.” Yamaguchi exhales deeply, “you should apologize to her.”

It had always been a touchy subject in their friendship, the way that Tsukishima had elected to end— more accurately, ruin — his friendship with Y/N. Though Yamaguchi wasn’t there to hear what he’d said himself, he’d heard it had been pretty bad from others. After all, Tsukishima had received his first, second and third punch to the face that day.

It was deserved.

“Yeah.” Comes his reply, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

In an attempt to combat the uncomfortable silence between them, Yamaguchi asks, “so where’d you go?”

A smirk breaks out on Tsukishima’s face, “not the bathroom that’s for sure.”

THE NEXT TIME TSUKISHIMA KEI TEXTS Y/N, the message actually goes through. For some reason he can’t bring himself to delete the ones that came before, the apologies from a year prior followed by his messages of realization that she had blocked him.

Maybe it was the fact that his pride had taken a blow or maybe it was the fact that he didn’t want to know if he was forgivable, Tsukishima had never made any attempts to apologize fact to face.

Actually, that’s a lie, he had. But he had chickened out last minute, the panic flooding his veins as he was faced with a situation almost identical to the one that had gotten him into the mess. Seeing her alongside the very person who had punched him in the face that day— well, the first person who had that is— a broad smile on her face.

And who was he to ruin that. Did he even want to know what she’d say? Would she call him ridiculous, a fool for even thinking an apology could mend anything between him?

Would hearing her voice one more time, even if it was just riddled with insults, be enough for closure? He’d done this to himself Tsukishima was well aware but that didn’t make him any less upset at the fact that he’d lost his best friend.

He shakes his head, trying to get rid of those memories as he stares at the message, a simple:

hey, it’s tsukishima.

He was fairly sure that not only had he been blocked he had also had his number deleted, so starting with an introduction seemed right.

we’re meeting at my house tmrw after school. yamaguchi and i have volleyball practice, you can wait for us at the gym or just head over to my house i dont care.

There are so many implications to the message and they all leave Y/N’s head spinning, or maybe she was reading into it. She wasn’t sure at this point, but it was clear that Tsukishima was well aware that she still had the key to his front door.

Y/N elected to show up to volleyball practice rather than face his mother alone.

Stepping into the gym, the sound of shows scrapping against the floor, and volleyballs hitting the ground at an almost rapid pace as people moved around the courts just as quickly.

Y/N scrunches up her nose as she’s hit with the smell of sweat, something to be expected in a gym of course, lips pressing together into a straight line as she steps further into the gym and looks to her left. There stands another girl, albeit slightly intimidating but she looked far more approachable than the other people around the gym

“Excuse me?”

She turns, brows furrowing slightly at the sight of Y/N before offering her a smile and asking, “hey. How can I help you?”

Smiling back— albeit awkwardly— Y/N replies, “I’m waiting for someone,” Y/N quickly realizes that isn’t much information as she adds, “someone in this club. Actually, two people— that’s beside the point. Is there anywhere I can just sit, until the end?”

Once more her brows furrow, “our practices tend to go on pretty long, especially since some of the boys like extra work and we have a few practice games coming up.” Shaking her head slightly, the girl gestures to the bench beside her, “you can sit here with me, I’m Kiyoko by the way.”

“So who are you waiting for?”

“Oh, uh... Tsukishima Kei and Yamaguchi Tadashi.”

Y/N finds herself coming by the gym more often after that day, although it isn’t because she has to walk back to Tsukishima’s house after with him and Yamaguchi, it’s because she finds herself enjoying Kiyoko’s presence. She’s a quiet girl, but she’s rather witty behind the scenes, and certainly and entertaining and fun person. And so were the other boys in the club.

They’d quickly become intrigued by the presence of another girl and—

“Another female manager? Nice!”

“Another manager? Why?”

“Kiyoko are you leaving us!?”

Okay so maybe Y/N had inadvertently joined the Boy’s Volleyball Club, but she really had nothing better to do with her time, much less with all the time she had between school and when the practice ended, allowing Tsukishima to go home with Yamaguchi and Y/N. But it’s not like it wouldn’t be over soon, right? The groups would only last two weeks and then Y/N would be free of her old— or more accurately, ex-friend.

Wrong, the groups became permanent. For the rest of year the students have to use them, for every single group project. Leaving Y/N to dread the class each time she entered due to the burning anticipation of a possible group project. Though Yamaguchi had made several attempts to approach Y/N since their last project ended just a few weeks prior, going as far as ditching Tsukishima entirely to sit with her at lunch some days.

Y/N entertained him, it’s not like she wanted to be rude or anything— not to Yamaguchi that is, he hadn’t done anything wrong. He hadn’t been the one to randomly explode and call her a variety of... colorful words upon finding her with a friend last year.

Neither Y/N nor Yamaguchi bring it up of course, how Tsukishima had driven her away with his crude words that she never expected would ever be directed towards her.

But...

“We’ll be having another group project for the next two weeks!”

The conversation was inevitable.

Y/N nearly rams her head into her desk as she sighs, eyes drifting upwards towards the ceiling as though that would solve any of her current problems, before looking back to Tsukishima with a rather sarcastic smile that he returns with one of his own. Yamaguchi on the other hand, is waving rather enthusiastically from his seat in the classroom, beaming.

It’s not like it was a bad group. They got things done, and when grades were returned, they were good. It’s just that Tsukishima was... Tsukishima. And as annoying and rude as he was, Y/N couldn’t help but feel more annoyed with herself because she still couldn’t find it in herself to hate him.

Backpack slung over her shoulder, Y/N exhales deeply as she looks back at Yamaguchi who remains at his porch, “make sure she gets home safe, Tsukki!”

“That’s really not necessary, Yams.” She assures, giving him a pointed look when Tsukishima turns around with a disinterested shrug. But of course. the boy waves her off, simply shoving her forwards with Tsukki, offering her a thumbs up and a smile.

Y/N simply turns around and follows Tsukishima with a scowl, quickly moving ahead of him as she tugs her backpack strap tighter onto her shoulder.

Tsukishima is rolling his eyes as she moves ahead of him, “how am I supposed to stop you from getting kidnapped when you’re a mile ahead of me?” He calls out to her, maintaining his pace. Y/N doesn’t reply, continuing on ahead, “Y/N.” He repeats, “Y/N.” Once more, she ignores him, until she hears his steps pick up behind her, a hand wrapping around her wrist and stopping her movements.

“Yes Kei?” She exclaims in annoyance, turning back to him. Only for her mouth to gape open as she grimaces, “Tsukishima. I mean.”

He exhales deeply, looking away momentarily before saying, “I’m sorry.”

So, Y/N laughs. “Wow. Tsukishima Kei swallowing his pride to apologize? Impressive.” Tsukishima opens his mouth to reply, only for Y/N to speak first and say, “I hate you.” Before tearing her arm out of his grasp and stepping ahead once more.

Y/N isn’t looking at him as he replies, “no you don’t.”

And Tsukishima would’ve believed had he not looked to his wrist, the number rising with each insult Y/N spewed. Though there was no denying that he deserved it, but that didn’t stop the grimace that came on his face before he asked, “you done?”

WHEN TSUKISHIMA FOUND OUT Y/N WAS HIS SOULMATE, it did not end well. He wasn’t really sure if he had a plan that day, but if he did it went out the window once he saw her with one of her friends from another school. Though Tsukishima had never met the boy in question, it didn’t take long for him to realize that Y/N liked him, whether that was platonic or not it didn’t matter. Because watching her laugh along with him in the convenience store only served as a reminder that there were people better than him.

Tsukishima had never considered himself insecure per se, much less an over thinker or anything of the sort. But the simple fact of the matter was, Y/N didn’t want him, she was stuck with him as his soulmate.

And though she was blissfully unaware of this fact, why did that need to change?

Perhaps she could be happier with that boy, with anyone other than him. Tsukishima had known Y/N for years and though he would never admit it, he respected her, he cared for her, long before he’d discovered they were soulmates. And prior to his discovery he’d always found the system idiotic, so why did his mindset have to change?

It was a bitter ideology, and a jealous and foolish reaction that put him in the place he’s in today. Though Tsukishima was fairly sure it only proved his point, that she deserved better, that didn’t make him any more remorseful of their friendship.

He’d nearly told her several times, like the blunt and straightforward person he is, Tsukishima had almost stopped her in the halls of school and simply said— “surprise! We’re soulmates. Sorry about calling you a whore and all, I was just jealous and bitter because I realized there are people out there better for you and somehow you got stuck with me!”

Yeah, that would’ve blown over real well. Tsukishima was fairly sure he would’ve received an addition hit to the face from her and Yamaguchi, again.

Yamaguchi was not happy when he found out about the convenience store incident. At all.

Tsukishima couldn’t recount many times when he was scared of Yamaguchi Tadashi, until his fist was flying towards his face. Of course, he laughed it off, wiping the blood from his nose, but that didn’t make it a fun experience by any means.

Now, Tsukishima was just trying to amend things, slightly. It’s not like Y/N owed him any of her time, and it’s not like she needed to know that they were soulmates.

It would be better off that way for the both of them, or at least, that’s what Tsukishima told himself— much to Yamaguchi’s dismay. The boy had been urging Tsukishima to just tell her the truth, for a while now, to no avail. And when Tsukishima returned to class one day having discovered he would be in a group with her and Yamaguchi, well he couldn’t help but thing Yamaguchi was scheming.

But looking up to Yamaguchi and Y/N, who are seated at the table of some café Y/N had insisted on coming to, Tsukishima can’t help but think it was worth it.

No, she didn’t need to know.

And so, against her better judgement, Y/N had allowed things to return to normal. The same weekly hangouts they once had becoming daily because of volleyball practice each day, forcing Yamaguchi, Tsukishima and Y/N together for even longer periods of time. Walks homes becoming progressively longer as they all speak amongst themselves— or more accurately, Y/N and Yamaguchi speak. Then again, Tsukishima had always been more of the quiet kind unless he had something witty to add on.

This revival of friendship meant the return of the late night calls as well, of course. Albeit, most of them filled with a comfortable silence that Y/N finds herself relishing in a she lays in bed, eyes glued to the time shining in the corner of her phone screen.

11:52PM.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N rolls over on her bed, tugging at her sleeve to pull it down and reveal the counter on her wrist. There have been a few lies today, though there hadn’t been any in the past few hours. In recent months the number had been fluctuating more which Y/N found... odd.

Tsukishima seems to notice her shift in mood, though he doesn’t look up from his work as he asks, “what is it?” When Y/N doesn’t respond, he simply repeats himself, asking, “what’s wrong?

Y/N’s brows furrow as she huffs, bringing her arm back down and pushing herself up on her bed using her elbows before replying, “what do you mean?”

“The dramatic sigh.” Comes his reply, eyes still glued to the page in front of him as the sound of his pen moving against the paper fills his room.

Y/N looks to him on the screen incredulously as she scoffs, “it was not a dramatic sigh.”

A pause on his part as he looks down before replying, “I don’t even think you believe that Y/N.” He responds, rolling his eyes before adjusting his glasses at the bridge of his nose.

Sometimes Y/N wondered how he’d always been able to do that, read her like a book. Was she truly that predictable? Grimacing, Y/N brushes away the thought, “nothing is wrong?” Her response sounds more like a question, leaving her cringing at her inability to lie.

Tsukishima raises a brow as he dryly responds, “that was convincing.”

Y/N just sighs again, eyes drifting to her wrist once more— the counter now reset to zero as the day starts anew— as she pauses, wondering if the conversation would be worth it.

“Do you ever think of you soulmate, Tsukishima?”

His pen stops, and if Y/N was looking at the screen rather than her wrist, she would’ve seen the way he straightened in his seat as he replied, “no. I don’t.” He clears his throat, “no point in dwelling on someone I haven’t even met yet.”

Maybe Y/N would’ve replied had the counter not ticked up to 2 as he spoke.

But it was a coincidence. It had to be a coincidence.

“So... you haven’t met your soulmate yet?

Another moment of silence before he replies, “no.” With a sigh.

Y/N brings a hand to clasp over her mouth, “you’re kidding me.” A bitter laugh escapes her, “you’re fucking kidding me.” Y/N finds herself inhaling deeply as she attempts to calm herself. “How long have you known?”

Y/N WAS AVOIDING HIM, not that he didn’t deserve it, again. But that didn’t make it any better. Tsukishima found himself frowning as he stared at his eyes pierced into the back of her head, and for the first time he found himself hoping for a group project.

What a change in events.

Tsukishima was honestly more worried about what Yamaguchi would say once he found out that he and Y/N were fighting again but... that was something to worry about for another time.

“We’ll be having a group project once more today! If you haven’t realized already, this class is oriented around the idea of building you collaborative and social skills.”

Okay, maybe not another time.

Tsukishima can practically hear Y/N’s head fall against her desk, his eyes drifting back to her as the teacher drones on about the requirements of this assignment and how they’ll pick up the rubric once class ends and they can further review it tomorrow.

Probably because the bell rings almost immediately after.

Y/N has already shot up from her seat, tugging her back over her shoulder as she beelines for the exit of the class. And for once, Tsukishima finds himself making an effort to keep up with her as he calls out her name, “Y/N, stop.”

This seems to garner Yamaguchi’s attention, who jogs to keep up with the pair as they all exit the classroom, “guys? What’s going on?”

“Everything is fine, Yamaguchi!” Comes Y/N’s response from ahead of them, waving him off.

Yamaguchi’s brows furrow as he grabs Tsukishima’s wrist only to see that the counter has risen, causing him to look up at Tsukishima when he finally yanks his wrist away. “What did you do?”

Tsukishima looks to him incredulously, “what makes you think I did something?”

Yamaguchi looks to him blankly as he replies, “well Y/N isn’t chasing you through the halls, is she?” He rolls his eyes, jogging to get ahead of the both of them and block their path as he looked to them with furrowed brows, “what is going on guys?”

“Not now, Tadashi, please—”

“Tadashi?”

The group pauses in the empty hallway, most of the other students having left now that the day had ended, and the sound of Tsukishima’s voice is unlike anything Y/N has heard before as she sighs.

“I wish you had told me, Tsukishima.” Is all she mumbles out, before dragging a hand through her hair and pushing past the both of them, turning the corner of the hall and leaving them alone there.

A/N: gasp :0 yamaguchi?

#tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x you #tsukishima x you #kei x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #kei x you #kei tsukishima x you #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x you #haiky #tsukishima kei x y/n #tsukishima x y/n #kei x y/n #kei tsukishima x y/n

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weirdmarioenemies · 3 years ago

Photo

Name: F Boy (again)

Debut: Super Mario Land 2: Six Golden Coins

It feels so strange to look back on my very first post for this blog! It’s so... dry! Where’s the passion? Back then I really had no idea what I was doing and was just kind of imitating Mod Chikako hoping nobody would notice... but thanks to all the love this blog has received, I think I can write with a lot more confidence now! Not to get all sappy on the first paragraph, but I really appreciate everyone who reads this blog with all of my heart. And that includes You!

But if I’d known I’d spend several years using the moniker “Mod F Boy”, I probably would’ve put more thought into the name I picked, huh? I’m not even sure I’m a boy anymore! I just thought the name was funny and that was that! But given how indecisive I can be, maybe it’s a good thing it was so spontaneous... Like it or not though, I am more attached to the concept of “F Boy” then I was three and a half years ago, so it’s only fair I give F Boy the post he deserves and write a whole lot more about him!

Believe it or not, F Boy is a fire enemy! A single flame with dot eyes, the classic design they’ve been using since Fire! I’ve expressed love for them in the past, but this little dude is a little different... it isn’t found in a lava or castle stage like you might expect, but the spoooky scaaary stages, AKA Pumpkin Zone! Why’s that?

Enter the hitodama! Literally using the characters for “human soul”, these ghostly wisps of fire from Japanese folklore are probably something you’re familiar with even if you don’t know it! The Litwick Pokémon line, the flames on Jibanyan’s tail, the little flames around the boy from the toilet anime, or even the Embers from Paper Mario... that’s really just a couple of specific examples off the top of my head, but they are in basically anything associated with Japanese ghosts!

Though... all this time I’ve always called them hitodama, but I should probably specify they aren’t the only kind of ghostly fireballs! Onibi (demon fire) are often described similarly, and I’m not totally sure what the difference is! I suppose they would be more demonic hence the name, and probably less of a good idea to get close to. Also, if they're made by fox demons, they’re kitsunebi (fox fire)! Isn’t that neat! But there are no foxes to be found here, so F Boy definitely isn’t that (Unless it stands for Fox Boy...?).

However, you might be more familiar with the concept of will-o’-the-wisps, a similiar kind of legend from Europe- in fact, a whole number of cultures around the world have stories of ghostly lights and flames! There’s two explanations for this, either that it is a misunderstanding caused by some chemical reaction (boring, lame) or that hitodama are real and really exist for real (fun, exciting)! I encourage everyone to go outside with a net and catch as many as they can.

Even though hitodama can be red or orange in some traditional accounts, they’re mostly described as blue and most modern media sticks with that! Which makes it quite weird that F Boy... isn’t! He is a rather fetching orange of course, and without the added context of spooky old Pumpkin Land you wouldn’t be mistaken for thinking he is a lava enemy that just got lost or something!

Now, moving on to a completely different topic, something else that is great about F Boy is his little cheeks. Have you seen them? Here is the picture one more time in case you forgot after all that. He doesn’t have one in the sprite, so isn’t it quite weird to give a fireball enemy such distinct little cheeks? I want to squeeze them, even if they are probably intangible.

And finally, we come to the part we’ve all been waiting for- the name! You were thinking it, I was thinking it, it’s probably the only reason I chose to write about him in the first place! Because F Boy is a funny name for an enemy! I think it’s just quite silly to describe a fireball as a “boy” in the first place, as a term of endearment. It is just a boy! A little guy! He’s not hurting anyone!

But then they add to that name- one letter. That one letter, F. It changes everything. All of a sudden, there’s a question floating in the air- what, pray tell, does the F in F Boy stand for?

If you’ve been following our blog for a while, you might remember we added an addendum to the original F Boy post, saying the mystery had finally been solved- the English version of the Super Mario Bros. Encyclopedia lists his name as Fireball Boy, which is a pretty definitive answer right?

But since then, it’s been more or less exposed that this translation took a bunch of unsourced and conjectural names from the Mario Wiki, leading to something of a controversy and a Mario Wiki page that is essentially just roasting the whole thing! If even the Wiki doesn’t accept this book as an official source, I wonder if there’s any merit to the name Fireball Boy at all! Either way it’s odd how this is the ONLY name they changed... do they know something we don’t? I dunno!

My next evidence to present to the court is something that isn’t really related to F Boy at all! Rather, in Super Paper Mario, the Lava Bubble enemy has a tattle that reads the following:

It's a Lava Bubble. This fiery magma boy loves the heat... Max HP is 1 and Attack is 4. Obviously, it's quite immune to fire... It pops out from below when people approach, so take care when jumping over lava...

Fiery magma boy! The chances of this bit of text being intended as a reference are very very slim, but what if, you see? What if? It’s still a fun coincidence, but what if though??

But of course, my favourite possibility is that it isn’t a word related to fire at all and is actually something completely different! I looked up a list of adjectives beginning with F and I’d like to highlight ones I want F Boy to have. Fabulous! Friendly! Faithful. Fantastic. Fascinating! French? Fresh! Fun, and Funky! Faultless. Fetching. Feminist! Festive. Formidable. All these and more describe the complex soul that is F Boy.

After all is said and done, that is F Boy! Who would’ve thought that a little monochrome fireball enemy from a Game Boy game could have kicked off so many months of writing for this blog? I said in the first paragraph that I would not get too sappy, but now we are in the last one I can be as sappy as I dang well please! This blog has brought me such incredible joy and friendship that you can’t even imagine, and my only hope is that I can convey these feelings to even one person who reads these silly posts. If you are reading this? I hope you have a wonderful day! I hope you have a wonderful life! I hope you never forget to be passionate about the things that really don’t matter at all, because no one else can decide for you what is worth caring about! Mwah! A kiss goodbye. I’m not sure how to end this post.

#mario #mario enemies #f boy #weird mario all-stars #mod f boy

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pretoriafics · 4 years ago

Text

Therapy sessions with the devil

I'd did this request yesterday on my Portuguese blog, and I thought that you guys would love it!

Anonymous asks: Y/N is a therapist who works for Vought and is doing a few evaluations on the Super.

Word count: 1.806 Contain: Therapist!Reader x Homelander Warnings: Mention of sexual violence, mention of serial killers, mention of cases of children with psychopathy, mental disorders. +16 only Versão em português aqui PART 2 THE BOYS MASTERLIST

Your profession was gratifying.

You loved the idea of helping people, getting to know each other better, and getting them to learn to deal with life's challenges. For you, being a kind of "confidant", where people could talk about their lives without any judgments, was an honor and your purpose. You believed that it would make the world a better place.

However, it also had its burdens. Some things were difficult to hear, even for you with all your knowledge and professional background. Patients who suffered from sexual violence, for example, demanded of you a stomach that you were not always able to have. It was something you talked to your therapist about, and you kept a mantra in mind: After all, you were still human, and it was okay to feel that way.

And when Vought invited you to work as a therapist for The Seven, you went nuts. It was the chance of a lifetime!

Or, at least, this was what you thought at the beginning.

It was not uncommon for you to hear things that made your stomach a little sick, just like when The Deep told you about the way he “welcomed” Starlight. You felt nauseous but, on the outside, remained impassive, just watching him as a silent request to continue to talk.

All of them were, simply, not only media products but also puppets of the advertising world. You already had some political patients, and in fact, you thought The Seven was a similar case: Both went to that market with the intention, many times, to help people. However, they ended up corrupted in the middle of the road, forgetting their whole purpose in helping others.

You saw a point in common between The Seven: Everyone, with perhaps the exception of Starlight, was too worried about their own egos to be real heroes. They were all too narcissistic.

But Homelander was the worst of them.

The childhood phase was the most important part of a person's life. A traumatic childhood could lead to a troubled adult, as in the case of Mary Bell and Beth Thomas. Homelander's case was no different: his non-affectionate childhood, being raised as a laboratory rat, was the bigger reason to make him that kind of man.

Although at the same time you were fascinated about to study a mind like that - since one of the reasons why you did psychology would be to unveil the secrets of the human mind - each therapy session was daunting and made you rethink your job at Vought.

In short, you were interviewing a serial killer. Easily one of the most cruel and unhealthy.

"Good morning, Homelander." Your voice was soft, just like the smile you gave to the super who just sat on the couch.

"Good morning, Doctor." He returned the smile to you, but the smile on his own way: The corners of your mouth pulled to the side in a smile that you recognized as fake.

"So..." You put your hands on your knee, looking at him with the best receptive look you could pretend. There, in that office, your sessions with Homelander made you feel you deserved an Oscar "How was your week?"

“Well…” He lay down on the couch, his blue eyes staring at the ceiling, and his hands joined in front of his stomach “Nothing new. In fact, he had a little incident with Maeve. Sometimes she is so… pathetic. ”

"What happened?"

It took a while for Homelander to actually get some confidence in you. In fact, he only started telling you things in detail when he realized he could get something out of the sessions. They were productive to him, they made him think. You didn't know if you were thanking God for getting something out of him, or if you should cursing yourself because of the horrors he tells you.

"Maybe you saw something about the 37 Flight on the news."

"The one who had been captured by the terrorists?"

"Exactly! Maeve and I had to rescue the plane. We managed to take down the terrorists, but when I killed the last one, in the Pilot's cabin, I hit the plane's controls with the lasers. And then, the flight was doomed. I told Maeve that our job was done and we should leave, but she was reluctant. He wanted me to save the passengers! ” He laughed, but a natural one. "Can you believe that?"

Oh, it was going to be a long therapy session...

"And what happened next?"

“What did she want me to do? That I fly 137 times from the plane to land? Ah, pathetic, pathetic! ” He shook his head, clearly humorous. "Now, just imagine: You are on a flight with 137 people shouting 'Help, Homelander!', While your stupid partner insists that you should do something to save everyone. I was losing patience so I threatened everyone with my eyes, and they finally settled down. I don't blame them, I mean, they are so vulnerable. They are bugs! ” He looked at you, the corners of his mouth pulled in a fake smile. "No offense."

Homelander was a cold-blooded killer. Not only, but like Ted Bundy, he was a narcissist. He liked the feeling of power that invaded his body when he saw that people feared him, and when he felt that he had the power to decide whether that person would live or not. He didn't mind if killing people just for fun was against the law. Homelander didn't care about the law or any kind of rules. Furthermore, just as Bundy believed he was fully capable of defending himself in his court's judgment and did not need lawyers, Homelander thought he was an incarnate God walking among the 'bugs', simply because he had powers.

"And how do you feel about Maeve?"

“She bothered me a little with the drama on the plane, but that's okay. I am sure that after I spoke to the journalists, near the wreckage of the flight, she understood. This is all going to be an excellent opportunity to make our presence in the army happen. ”

A sociopath.

Empathetic behaviors aren't part of him. He was unable to have that feeling. Self-centered, Homelander was unable to love. The relationship he had with Stiwell, for example, was far from loving. He didn't feel it, quite the opposite: Homelander had a feeling of possession with her. She was his, and nobody else's.

A doubt hammered in your head: Homelander was intending to drop the plane? Your stomach was upset, you felt bad about that therapy session. How could Vought leave someone like him in The Seven?

The answer was simple: They didn't care. Homelander was profitable, and that was all that mattered.

That was one of the times when you thanked God that Homelander was self-centered enough to lie on the couch and just think about your own life, instead of analyzing you and realizing that you were completely terrified. It was as if a misstep, a wrong word, was going to cost his life.

And you would end that today.

You conducted the therapy session normally. In the end, you shook hands with Homelander as you always did and closed the door. Tears invaded your face as you thought of each life that was lost in vain on that flight, and, worse, you were sure that Maeve would tell you about the flight at her therapy session, early next week. In an attempt to calm down, you took some coffee and sat down in front of your MacBook. There, sipping coffee, you wrote your resignation letter.

Alright. You were free.

Or at least this was what you thought.

* * *

Another week has started, and the fact that you worked at Vought made you get a more comfortable office, in addition to increasing your service price. You were ending your day. Your last patient had left the office, and you were about to go home when you heard a familiar voice from your couch.

"I miss you in the tower."

Homelander looked at you with his pairs of sick blue eyes, his fake smile, and his murderous hands behind his body. He was standing next to the couch, and you felt your whole body freeze. A lump formed in your throat, and your hands vibrated in pure dread.

So he would kill you there? In your office?

Trying to take control of the situation, you faked a slight smile.

“Sorry, Homelander. I didn't saw you here. Need something?"

"Actually, I do." He started walking towards you slowly. "I didn't want to end our sessions, so I came to ask you what our new schedule is going to be."

You narrowed your eyes.

"I thought Vought was going to hire someone else to work with The Seven in my place."

“In fact, they put an incompetent in your place. I really prefer that we continue where we left off. ” He stopped in front of you with his smile, his eyes emanating pure insanity "I like our therapy sessions."

“I'm glad that you like my job and that you appreciate our results, Homelander” You gave him a smile, but inside you were still in pure dread “But I don't have appointments available. My schedule filled up easily after I came to this new office. ”

“Oh, but I'm sure you can fit me in your schedule. I can pay you well. ”

How to say no to Homelander without putting your life at risk?

You walked over to your tablet, on your desk. You took it in hand and slid your finger on the screen, analyzing awhile. You didn't need him to tell you that you would be paid well. In fact, you were fully aware of that. The point was that you could exchange all the money in the world to be at peace, without having to deal with Homelander. Without much choice, you concluded that you would reserve a single day for your therapy sessions with him. That way, your head wouldn't get so tired when you still had to deal with other patients.

“Are you available on Friday morning? At nine."

He nodded, giving the same smile he did when he achieved something. One of pure contentment.

"Of course!"

"Great so." You typed 'Homelander' in the space corresponding to the hour. You put the tablet down on the table, next to your MacBook “There, it's done. Friday, at nine in the morning. ”

“Ah, perfect! Thank you. Have a good night."

"Good night, Homelander."

He walked over to your balcony. With a jump, he flew through the sky. You lay on your couch, terrified. Would you never get rid of him?

All that was left for you now was to be the therapist of the incarnate Devil.

#the boys imagines #the boys imagine #the boys fics #the boys fanfics #the boys fanfic #the boys fanfiction #homelander x you #homelander x reader #homelander x y/n #homelander imagine #homelander imagines #homelander fics #homelander fanfics #homelander fanfic

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! If u have any time, I would love to read some fluffy Coops hurt/comfort! Maybe Remus having a nightmare about Greyback?

I can, yes! For those of you wondering why I didn’t continue the Greyback audio series despite a couple different asks: someone kept coming into my inbox and bothering me about progress, and I got tired of it. I write for fun, and if the story isn’t flowing I generally work on something else for a bit until inspiration strikes. Constantly asking (like, three times a day) about a fic will not get it out faster.

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for nightmares, past injury, and self-deprecating dream talk (briefly)

Greyback was out of the league, and rumors had begun to fly about a possible court case. Remus had received hundreds of texts, emails, and DMs from people expressing their condolences—his old teammates had contacted him more in the past 48 hours than they had in literal years.

And he was so unbelievably tired.

Hattie rumbled against his front and Sirius was solid and warm behind him, curved in a protective parenthesis against the endless unanswered messages. Upon Remus’ request, he had taken his phone and put it on the top shelf of the laundry room cupboards; anyone who wanted to talk to Remus would go through Sirius, first. He couldn’t think of anyone that mattered who didn’t have Sirius’ phone number.

“Are you still awake?” Sirius murmured against the nape of his neck. Remus nodded silently. “Do you want to take some melatonin?”

“It’s alright.”

Sirius shifted and pulled the blankets further onto their shoulders; Hattie wiggled up until her face was out of the sheets, then sighed heavily. “Do you want to talk?”

Remus shrugged, suddenly feeling shaky and untethered. He had only caught a passing glance of Greyback at the conference, staring him down across the lobby until his handlers took him away and left Remus alone with the media. The look in his eyes was almost murderous. “Just don’t let go.”

The arm around his waist tightened and he closed his eyes, matching his breaths with Sirius’ until his world narrowed to the heartbeat against his shoulder and Hattie’s fur in his hand. No aching feet, no pounding head, no verge-of-tears clog in his throat—just Sirius, just Hattie, just them in their bed and the whole world locked outside.

“We’re going to be okay, right?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Sirius moved and a small pocket of cold lodged behind Remus’ knees. “Re, I knew what happened before the story came out.”

“But know there’s…”He waved a hand in the air. “People. Cameras. So many people trying to contact me all the time, and I’m tired. I haven’t really been here for you.”

“Remus.” Sirius tugged on his shoulder until he rolled onto his back, but kept their sides pressed together. “You don’t have to be here for me right now. It’s my job to be there for you while this is going on. Besides, I’m used to dealing with media and nosy people.”

Remus exhaled slowly. “Thank you for taking my phone.”

“You asked me to do it.”

“Still. You could’ve said no.”

“You have enough on your plate already, mon loup.” Sirius trailed his fingers lightly through Remus’ hair and he closed his eyes. “Sleep. I know you didn’t last night.”

“I slept a little bit.”

“Yeah, for about two hours.” A gentle kiss pressed against his cheek. “Sleep.”

He took a deep breath and tried to relax, letting the tension drain from his muscles and allowing the tsunami of exhaustion to wash through in its place. His brain still ran at a million miles per hour and he could feel the beginnings of yet another headache—though who was he kidding, the last week had been a constant headache—but he focused on his heartbeat and breathed in the familiar scent of their bedroom.

Remus felt himself slipping, and suddenly all he smelled was sweat. Sweat and fear and the spongy plastic of the mats sticking to his cheek. He couldn’t feel any pain, but the terror of someone’s hands on his body bolted all the way to his core. Pressure on his thighs as the person’s knees pinned him down; pressure on his back and a palm by his shoulder blade; pressure, so much pressure, on one joint until it gave out and Remus was falling.

He was cold, colder than any ice bath, and gasping for air.

He won’t love you. He never did. Nobody will ever be able to tether you for long. He’ll get tired of trying.

“Please,” Remus begged as the roaring wave came up behind him. A blurry face appeared ahead, with cold eyes and a razor-sharp smile. “No, no—”

Fenrir wouldn’t let go. He was trapped like a fish in a net, struggling and fighting against the harsh grip until his eyes flew open and someone was talking right next to his ear and it was too much too much too much—

“No!” His elbow slammed into something soft and the warmth across his chest disappeared. “Get off me!”

Bedroom. He was in a bed, in a bedroom. In his bedroom. It smelled like lavender and laundry detergent. Hattie was on the floor, carefully sniffing his hand and watching him with huge gray eyes as he pulled his knees to his chest and waited for the last of the nightmare to tremble through him.

A hand brushed against his arm and he flinched, teeth chattering despite the warm room. “Don’t touch me.”

“Okay.” The mattress dipped as Sirius sat up and crossed his legs, sitting patiently and rubbing one rib.

Remus’ mouth went dry. “Did I hit you?”

“Just your elbow.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I hit you.”

“Do you want to take a look?” Sirius asked, his voice soft. Remus blinked rapidly and shifted to face him; he lifted the edge of his sleep shirt and gestured to his ribs. “See? No marks. You didn’t hurt me, just surprised me.”

“Part of me wishes they never found that video,” Remus said. The words tumbled from his lips—he had been choking them down for days now, but he was too tired to hold them in anymore. “I wish nobody ever knew except you and me and him.”

Sirius hummed. “That’s fair.”

“It’s stupid. He deserves what he’s getting.”

“He does.”

Frustration bubbled in his chest. “Then—then I have to choose one, right? He deserves what he’s getting and I deserve to move on and his name should be dragged through the mud, but I just want people to leave me the fuck alone.”

His shoulders folded in and he pressed his forehead to his knees; there were no tears left, but that didn’t stop the shivering that made his stomach hurt. “Can I touch you?” Sirius asked after a moment.

“Yeah.” Remus leaned into him, laying both his legs over one of Sirius’ and curling up like a barnacle against his side. “Sorry for dumping all this on you.”

“Re, this isn’t dumping stuff on me. This is communicating how you feel, and Heather says that’s a good thing.”

“Heather isn’t here.”

“When’s your next appointment?”

“Monday.”

Sirius gave him a squeeze. “I’m not a therapist, but I can hug you until Monday if you want.”

Remus laughed a little—there wasn’t much humor in it, but at least it was there. “That sounds pretty nice, actually. I’m going to take a shower and then make some tea.”

“It’s a mint with honey kind of day?”

“Yeah.”

Forty minutes later, when Remus was mostly dry and bundled in his most comfortable sick-day clothes, he went downstairs and found a steaming mug of mint tea with honey waiting on the coffee table. Sirius smiled and patted the couch as the opening credits of Avatar began. It felt…well, it felt almost normal.

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fenristheorem · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!^^

Could you make a hc about Lance and Guardian first date? 👀

Hello! This ask turned into a bit of a headcanon / scenario hybrid, I hope you don’t mind! It’s was so tempting to write in-depth about so many things through this that I couldn’t stop myself lol.

Also, I put a couple of my own headcanons on Lance’s dragon form in here because we know basically nothing except how he looks.

~Under the cut~

Lance and Guardienne's first date:

Guardienne may have been the first one to show interest in advancing their relationship from friends to partners (since Lance was very hesitant to do that as he feels he doesn’t deserve it after everything he’s done), but Lance will take it upon himself to initiate the first date after she clearly has interest, and he won’t take it lightly.

His seriousness about this is due to two main reasons: the instinctual nature of being a dragon - which includes all the courtship instincts that are a part of his people’s culture - and the belief that she truly deserves to be taken seriously.

Lance may not have been raised by his people, but dragons are feral creatures by nature and, therefore, instincts are a prominent part of their life. The knowledge that she’s agreeing to date him will be translated into a very basic idea within those instincts: she’s allowing him to court her. There - of course - will be more to their relationship than just Lance trying to court her, but this idea merely shows what instincts will be active through the beginning of their relationship until they’re both sure they want to be together long-term. The point of having courtship instincts is to show a potential mate that said dragon is competent at providing, protecting, and caring for their love interest, so that’s exactly what Lance plans to do. These instincts - combined with knowing her personality and interests - will help him to think of things he can find, plan, or do for her that are specifically chosen because he believes she’ll like it. He wants to show her that he is an ideal mate for her, so he’ll keep trying to prove that relentlessly until they both have confirmed their affection for each other over and over again, in which case Lance will still keep providing and caring for her, but will be less aggressive about it. These instincts also act as a major impulse control for Lance, and this can be either harmful or beneficial for him. They can influence in-the-moment decisions, especially with physical touch, like whether or not he kisses her in one moment or how he chooses to hold her. This can be harmful in the manner where he may pressure her past her boundaries a bit by accident - unknowingly trying to prove how deep his want for her is and being caught up in the moment and his own physical feelings so he’s rendered unable to immediately realize her discomfort unless she makes a clear gesture that she’s not yet interested. The last thing Lance wants it to make her uncomfortable, so he’ll try to keep from doing something unless it’s relatively clear that she’ll react positively to it, but from that thought, this can also be greatly beneficial as it allows him to recognize things that he - or other men - may otherwise overlook. There may be a moment where she’s interested in possibly initiating something, but may be too shy to actually take the first step. He’s very detail orientated, so he’ll likely notice this subtle change in how she acts as she ponders a thought, and can instinctually recognize a few changes in her physical being - like glancing from his eyes to his lips, initiating a few kind but somewhat unnecessary touches, unknowingly accentuating a few attractive parts of her body, and even going as far as detecting a faint change in scent when she’s aroused (although, that last one will come a bit later in the relationship). Sometimes Lance will purposely tamp down any instinctual habits for the sake of proper self-control and not needing to second-guess any action that may actually make her uncomfortable, but usually when Lance detects a few signs that she’s heavily interested in him in the moment - and it’s clearly romantic interest, not interest in just the conversation topic - those instincts will unravel and he won’t be able to stop himself from immediately leaning forward to steal her lips in a kiss.

These instincts overall are very serious to him, and he doesn’t intend to take her courtship lightly - after all, his actions and his manner with her will influence how her feelings develop with him, and that’s influenced by how his instincts effect him in this situation. However, that doesn’t mean he’ll go out of his way to change for her or do things (that he may not like, especially) just because he thinks she’ll like it. If his instincts are continuously telling him to do things that she’s not liking, then perhaps they’re not as compatible as he’d like to think. He’s willing to give her things that are influenced by his instincts that she’ll surely like, but if he needs to think and act differently than who he is, then their relationship will be based off a lie, and he’s not about to base any part of his life - or someone else’s life that concerns him - off of a lie made solely to please.

He’s also taking this date seriously because he feels it would disrespectful of him to not take it seriously. This is a given regardless of who it is, but he feels it applies with her even more than it would with anyone else due to this reasoning: Lance has tried to kill her in the past - multiple times - and he tried to kill her friends and destroy the world that she loves so dearly. So not only would it be disrespectful in general to waste her time with a date that isn’t well planned or thought out, but it would be incredibly disrespectful to the point of being truly unforgivable if he did all of those horrible things and then tried to win her affections by thinking that a shallow, poorly thought out date would even begin to be acceptable in proving that he’s an ideal man for the savior of Eldarya. It takes the idea of wasting her time and thinking poorly of her intelligence and self-worth to a whole new level - and Lance is not about to risk that in any way. This is the woman who actually managed to put up a fight against him (hopeless, but he gives her credit for trying because she believed in her reasoning), who saved Eldarya, and is now moving past bitter old emotions to begin considering taking her past sworn enemy as her future lover. She has gained his respect in a multitude of ways, so there is no way that he’s going to take their first date lightly.

That being said, he struggles for a few days planning what he wants to do with her. He did ask her if there was anything in specific she’d like to do - only for her to say that there was nothing in particular, so all the planning was on him. Lance wants a good balance of including things she likes and would appreciate while also adding in his own interests. He believes that their first date should reflect how he thinks their relationship would manifest - and what he would like it to be and what he thinks she’d like it to be - while being conscious that this will be the first glimpse into a possible intimate life with each other, which can be off putting at first, so he thinks of everything that that would include and / or influence; food, entertainment, traveling, talking, etc. It was a good thing he told her prior to expect to be with him the whole day as he eventually finds himself needing to carefully manage and plan things to assure the date will go as he hopes, otherwise the rest of the day wouldn’t be very ideal. He’s sure to have a few back-up plans, though, just in case something does go awry so the date isn’t a total failure.

Guardienne knows absolutely nothing about what he’s planning, the only thing he told her is to take the whole day off and wear something comfortable yet functional that she isn’t afraid to get dirty. This almost scares her, and for a while she wonders what she got herself into by saying yes to his offer - after all, Lance has always had a creative mind with their “adventures” in the past - but she will admit that she does trust him now, and she follows his advice when the day of their date comes.

Lance is sure to give Huang Hua a few day’s warning about his day off and who he’s leaving in charge that day - she raises an eyebrow and grins the slightest bit when he mentions the exact day he needs to take off, but doesn’t ask any questions - and rises early on the day of their date to meet Guardienne in the Dinning Hall at the time they agreed on.

Now Karuto doesn’t like Lance at all much, and the dragon knows this, so when he originally asked the chef to prepare a few special meals he was turned down very quickly. But then he mentioned that it’s for Guardienne as well...

“Oh? You want me to prepare a special meal for her for you? Ha! Why?”

“Well... we intend to spend the day together so I want to be sure she has a nice time, and you’re cooking is excellent, Karuto. I know Guardienne really appreciates your food, and I don’t want to take any risks of things going wrong, so I was thinking that if we could have a breakfast and dinner at the dinning hall, and a lunch to go, that would be a definite way to begin to make sure she has a nice time.”

Karuto’s ladle clattered to the floor as the Satyr whipped his head around to look Lance dead in the eye, a dumbstruck expression on his face - almost looking as though he’s seen a ghost. Lance met his gaze evenly, expecting this reaction. He knew the chef didn’t like him that much, he didn’t blame him, but he hoped that Karuto could perhaps bless him with this favor for Guardienne’s sake.

“You mean... you have a date with her?” Karuto’s voice was faintly high pitched, reconfirming just how shocked he was. Lance shifted a bit, glancing to the ground as he did before meeting his gaze again.

“Ah, well... yes. So I’d really like things to go well. And try to keep this on the down-low. This is our first date and I think everything would go better overall if it didn’t spread like wildfire through the guard just yet.”

Karuto’s facial features softened a bit as he listened, picking up the ladle and shuffling to throw it in the sink before fishing another from one of the various hooks along the wall and returning to the pot on the stove.

“...Well, I suppose I can’t say no... and... - ahm - congrats? I’ll be sure to keep quiet about this, I guess, for her sake. Now what are you thinking of for the meals?” Karuto still looked quite surprised, but there was a sincerity in his expression and tone that Lance trusted, and he promptly thanked Karuto for doing him this favor. However, the Satyr also made sure to give him the full version of “if you try anything with her and I hear of it, I’ll personally make your life hell.” Lance quickly realizes that Karuto really likes her, and assures him he won’t do anything she doesn’t want. It doesn’t really seem to convince the chef, but he also probably realizes that there’s nothing he can do to stop this. Guardienne can be just as stubborn as the dragon, after all, and she’s already said yes to this.

Fortunately, Karuto kept his word and prepared a special breakfast for the both of them - Lance quickly noticed that his was prepared with quality as well, although the chef gave him a sharp look - and Guardienne soon realized that their breakfast was different than what was being served to others as they settled into a quiet corner of the hall. Lance - somewhat sheepishly - admitted that he’d asked a special favor from Karuto, and Guardienne grinned appreciatively at this.

When they were finished, Lance retrieved the lunches - nodding in thanks to Karuto as he did, the chef still giving him a meaningful look - and stored them in the small travel bag he packed, heading out of the guard with Guardienne to lead her to the open plains.

The next part of his plan was a bit shifty. It’s always possible that she could back out or become uncomfortable, but he feels - despite his anxiousness - that this should be how things are done. If Guardienne at any point became uncomfortable, then he would immediately yield to her wishes, but he really hoped she didn’t. He believes this is where their date can truly begin, and he hopes that she has enough faith in him to follow his plans.

He dropped the bag on the ground and turned to her, leveling a calm stare on her as she tilted her head in curiosity.

“You’ve never rode a dragon, correct?”

“I hope that’s not an innuendo.” She cracks a smile and raises a brow as she looks at him, he grins slyly in return.

“No - not this time at least.” He can play the game of wit. Guardienne’s smile grows before falling, a faint trace of wistful mourning crossing her expression.

“But, actually I have. Your brother, during the war...” Lance remembered that and his grin dropped, but this was something different. That was into war, when neither were paying attention to the actual experience and were focused on preserving their lives. He needed to know if she actually experienced seeing the world from a dragon’s eye view.

“Yes, I know that, but have you actually rode a dragon and been able to focus on the experience? Flying into war is very different than flying for leisure.”

“No, I haven’t experienced that...” She looked intently at him now, understanding where he was leading the topic.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes... I trust you.” Her eyes met his steadily as she responds. Everything is going as he hoped so far.

Whisps of white and cerulean blue shifted around Lance as he began shifting into his dragon form, stretching his wings out and lifting his head towards the sky to adjust once fully transformed before taking a few steps towards her as Guardienne picked up the travel bag. She admired the beautiful rippling of crystalline blue and snow white scales as he sauntered towards her before crouching down and lowering his neck. Sudden nervousness swept over Guardienne - he was certainly big, easily close to 10 feet tall - if not taller - with a thick, muscular form, but she never actually had the chance to think about riding a dragon before doing so, and that realization seemed intimidating to her now. Will she just hang onto the ice-like horns that adorn his upper neck? Won’t her weight be tiring for him in time? What about her legs, where should she put them? Could he really lift her weight into the air as easily as he seems to think?

Lance took notice of her hesitance and tilted his head and neck to look at her with a piercing eye, watching her as she stared for a moment.

“I...”

“I understand this may seem daunting. If you feel you can trust this, I would recommend doing so - I have wonderful things planned for us - but I won’t force you. I have backup plans closer to the guard if you feel you’re not ready for this.” Lance’s heart twists a bit - he really wanted to do this with her. This was really the only possible hindrance, if she could just get past this and trust him...

“No, it’s fine. I just... how do I hold on?” Guardienne quickly snaps to and laughs a bit, securing the travel bag to her and lifting a leg to straddle his lower neck. She placed her hands on his neck for a moment before curiously running her hands along his scales. Such a wonderful texture...

A purr rumbles from the dragons chest as he relaxes, pleased that she was agreeing with this.

“Hang on to the horns around my neck and wrap your legs around me - be sure to dig your heels in, it’ll help stabilize you.”

Guardienne did as told and instinctively leaned forward on his neck, clinging close to dear life.

“When we’re up in the air you can re-adjust your grip a bit to be more comfortable. Are you ready?” Lance raised his neck from the ground and Guardienne braced herself, already feeling unsettlingly high in the air - but she knew she wanted this.

“Yea.”

Lance tilted his head towards the sky again and spread his wings wide, leaping from the ground to hover for a moment before his wings scored through the air with a loud, windy woosh. Guardienne watched as his wings folded a bit, his scales shimmering beautifully in the sunlight, before stretching out and falling upon the air again. With every down stroke of his wings, Lance’s head and neck raised into the air a bit, the rest of his body following the rippling motion as he climbed higher in the air and gained speed.

Guardienne dared not look down as they rose above the trees, instead hunkering down a bit to press herself closer to the ice dragon. They were heading higher than she’s ever been while riding another creature - and while she did trust Lance, it still unsettled her greatly knowing how far their drop would be if he were thrown off balance and unable to recover. But he has years of experience of flying, she reminded herself. It was unlikely for him to lose control of himself.

Lance could sense a bit of her anxiety and shifted his wing pattern, smoothing out his climb to be more steady and less aggressive in how he moved. Guardienne fortunately seemed to lose some of her worries as he climbed with more subtle movements, and just as she relaxed a bit he shifted his pattern again. They were high enough in the sky now to where Lance just needed to change direction to head towards their destination, so he leveled out in the sky, letting his wings glide through the air.

Guardienne shifted the slightest bit as he leveled out, making sure she had a good grip, and caught sight of the ground below while doing so - but contrary to how terrifying she thought it would feel when seeing it from this distance, it was actually beautiful.

Trees dotted the ground, forming into masses of liquid dark green forests against the pale green of soft grass while blue-silver rivers - the color of moondust - meandered through grass and forest alike, dipping to disappear among trees before emerging again at a very separate location. Dark grey boulders dotted along the rivers and streams, and the occasional creature bolted along the plains as it ran from the shadow of the mighty entity flying above it.

She remained entranced at the landscape below as Lance tilted slightly, gliding elegantly through the air as he banked into a turn. Something of a purr rumbled from his chest as Guardienne leaned against him more, faintly adjusting her grip to hold higher on his horns so she could lean closer to him while admiring the ground.

“The land is much nicer from the air, isn’t it?” Lance called out to her as he tilted his head to glance at her, relief welling in his chest when he noted the starry-eyed gaze Guardienne wore as she looked at the ground.

“It’s beautiful!” Her tone will filled with awe, no hint of nervousness appearing anywhere in her energy anymore. He knew she would love this, she just had to push past the fear.

As they flew, Guardienne became more and more comfortable with flying, eventually allowing herself to sit somewhat upright so she can get a wider view of the great expanse of land stretching endlessly beneath them rather than what’s directly below them. It reminded her a lot of when she flew on airplanes, but this was much more free and wild.

Mountain ranges dotted the distance one way - tall, grey and monumental in the face of all the specks of trees and strings of rivers - and thicker forest canopy darkened the forest in some deeper parts of the trees. Open plains flowed beneath them and, with a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw the deep blue of the ocean behind them, growing further and further away. She basked in the view as Lance glided through the air, and Guardienne came to realize that properly riding a dragon isn’t half as worrisome as she originally thought.

She looked ahead and saw a murky, grey-blue expanse approaching from among the trees and plains - immediately recognizing it as a large lake dotted with large, jutting boulders - and beyond that a small cliff. It was as though a small mountain once stood there, but half was taken and replaced by a lake, leaving the other half a jagged, rocky outcrop against the bright sky as it led further back to sloping plains.

Lance dived faintly, gliding softly downward as they approached the lake. For a moment Guardienne’s thoughts filled with alarm as he seemed to intend to send them straight into the water, and she was about to open her mouth to express her concerns when he tilted his wings a few feet away from the surface and stopped their decline just before the water.

Instead, Guardienne’s breath was taken away from her as she looked into the lake, their reflection mirrored beautifully in the deep blue as they glided mere feet away from the surface of the still water, wakes rippling through as they passed by from the airflow of the dragon she rode. Lance tilted himself just slightly, turning their path to allow the edge of his wing to just faintly brush the surface with a soft hiss as water sprayed out behind. However, left upon the surface in the wake from his wing was a long trail of glittering, cloudy ice - spiked along the edges as it froze the rippling water during it’s impact against the dragon’s wing. She watched in fascination the ice trail that followed them, suddenly wondering how the water felt, and pressed her front completely against Lance as she leaned down. Gripping him tightly with her hand and legs, she took a calming breath and leaned slightly to his side, reaching to the lake.

Lance tilted his head to look at her again and straightened out, letting them drop closer until he was a risk of sending them straight into the water if he glided any lower. Fortunately, this was all the decline Guardienne needed, and the tips of her fingers brushed through the surface; cold and grating against her skin at their speed - but spraying out in a similar fashion as the water that had sprayed from Lance’s wing - and leaving her breathless from the experience.

The start of an astonished laugh bubbled from her chest before she leaned completely back, readjusting her grip again as she looked across the water on both sides. Exhilaration flowed through her bones and veins as she took in their speed in comparison to the lake and trees along the bank, and she let out a full laugh as she threw her head back to the sky, letting the wind whip over her skin as she embraced the experience of truly riding a dragon.

Joy bubbled within Lance as he took in her chiming laugh, and as they began to near the occasional large boulder jutting from the lake water he pondered the next part of his plan again. Hopefully she was in the mood for an even more thrilling ride...

He came up upon the first boulder, emerging many feet above the water and shifted his wings again, tilting them to soar upwards and give a flap to keep their speed as he fluently arced above the boulder, letting himself glide slowly down again and targeting two boulders near to each other next. He arced over one again and dived safely above the water, spreading his wings and banking into a sharp, drifting turn to swerve around the second rock. Guardienne shifted on his lower neck as he moved, flattening herself to him and adjusting her balance slightly when needed. When they were level above the water again, approaching their last chance to safely fly away from the approaching cliff, Lance glanced back toward Guardienne to find her studying the immense, jagged rise. She locked her gaze with his one eye, giving a wild grin as she adjusted herself and held on tighter.

Lance knew that she knew his intent, and her grin and tightening grip was all he needed to know that she wanted in on this experience, so he rose slightly above the lake again to beat his wings and gain speed as he scanned the cliff for the best path.

“Have you ever done anything like this?” Guardienne called to him, leaning with him as he tilted to avoid a large rock with an overhanging arch. They passed under it and a crumbling sounded from behind them. She looked back in time to see a fair part of that arch crumble from where they just passed under and splash into the water. Suddenly she was harshly reminded that the landscape could shift due to the wind currents from the dragon, and they don’t have any control over it. Her gaze turned to look at Lance again as he looked back to her.

“If I can fight in the air then I can navigate through cliff sides, and this certainly isn’t the first time I’ve flown through rocky outcrops or forests. Be sure to keep a tight grip, though, this’ll require finessing.”

Guardienne trusted his experience with this, so she nodded her head and gave him a trusting grin - he wouldn’t be doing this if he felt he couldn’t execute it.

Lance turned back to study the sloping cliff and the rocky lake before it again, finding an ideal path upward, and steadied his wings to prepare for the sudden moment where he would enact his first movement.

Guardienne held onto him, anticipation making her heart race as she studied the rocks as well.

And then Lance banked harshly to the side, heading towards a large, thin ridge rising out of the water that was crumbling on one side.

He tilted back, rising into the air and closing quickly in on the ridge top before arcing himself tightly over it. Nearly immediately on the other side was another jutting formation, and - as he was gliding downward - his wings shifted and he rose his head and neck to the sky to begin to slow their descent and climb again, then tilted nearly vertical to the side to veer around the formation, bringing them closer to the immense cliff edge now nearly directly above them. Lance soared along the length of cliff for a moment, level with the water now as he spotted an arch adjoining the cliff. He glided to it and folded his wings safely in for a moment as they passed through before flicking his wings open on the other side and immediately banked upwards into the sky.

Guardienne held on tight, pressing herself close to Lance as he easily - gracefully - maneuvered around rocks and overhangs, climbing up the cliff at a soaring speed without bringing them too close to risk any harm, but still close enough to feel the humbleness of realizing how small they still are in comparison to the massive stones. Her head swung wildly around, watching the stones they drifted around and embracing the breathtaking view of the water receding below them. Lance dived and arced and rolled in the air, rising and falling as he maneuvered the cliff. Guardienne diligently held herself close to him, doing her best to adjust herself in subtle ways that might make his flying easier for him while embracing the beauty of the light reflecting off of water below and the shadows cast over them as they soared beneath rock formations.

Guardienne looked towards the sky again as Lance soared along the cliff - noticing that they were about rise over the crest - and leaned her head against his neck gently, silently thanking him for the wonderful, thrilling experience he gave her. They rushed past the peak and kept their fast incline upward to let the speed die out on its own, and Guardienne took the chance to look around as they gided. Light shimmered beautifully off streams through muted green grasslands and forests, similar to where they just came from, but large, silver-grey rock formations jutted out of the ground here, like the boulders in the lake. A feeling of calm content rolled through Guardienne as she surveyed the landscape and rested against the dragon, breathing in the fresh air around them as it breezed by her. She almost wanted to cry from the beauty of the landscape and the experience of freely riding a dragon, understanding completely now exactly why Lance wanted to share this with her. This was something that couldn’t possibly be rivaled by any other experience.

They flew peacefully for only a few minutes longer before Lance glided to a slow stop just a few feet above the top of a hill, reaching out with his hind legs to plant firmly on the grass and lean down so Guardienne could dismount. He checked in on her after shifting back to his human form, trying to get a read on her opinion of the ride, only to be pleasantly surprised when she smiled and laughed, rambling about the humbling feeling of rising above the great earth to dance around it’s formations and soar the skies above it. Fortunately, the flying part of the date was also the most questionable - the most likely thing that would make Guardienne regret her choice - but just as Lance expected and planned for, she enjoyed the thrill instead.

Lance didn’t really have much planned after that to be honest, despite the aggressive way he worried about the plans. He intended for a few specific things to come up during their date, but from here it was really just walking and talking until encountering the right scenario for it. However, he did know roughly where he was and where they needed to go for them to spend the next few hours, so he kindly took the travel bag from her and they headed off in the direction he set, keeping a relaxed pace as they trekked over the hills and rock formations towards the forests around them.

They talked about anything and everything as they walked - although Guardienne was particularly interested in his dragon powers after what she just experienced, and Lance was more than happy to give her all the information she wished for. He kept a close eye on her as they walked as well, darting out to stabilize her when she stumbled over a root or vine and making sure she had a clear path through any poisonous plants so they wouldn’t brush against her. He didn’t want their time together to end early because she had gotten hurt - of which she had a wonderful record of doing.

They came across a river after a while of walking - slow moving and clear enough that they could see the vibrant fish and other aquatic creatures scuffling around beneath the surface. Guardienne knelt next to the water’s edge to watch the display while Lance settled next to her, leaning forward to watch as well while thinking that he could have decided to hunt for her and cook his catch instead of just asking Karuto to create a lunch. However, this was their first date, and Lance was partially prepared for the possibility where she didn’t end up enjoying it as much as she was enjoying it currently. With that in mind, he let the thought pass over him without any regrets - Karuto’s cooking was a sure way to have her enjoy their lunch out here when her final opinions of everything else could still vary - and marked it down as a thought for a later date if she was interested.

“They’re so colorful.” Guardienne smiled and dipped a finger into the water. The creatures in the vicinity of her finger scattered, rushing up or downstream or crawling along the bottom of the stream. A small, regretful grimace came to her face at seeing the reaction, dejectedly pulling her finger out of the water.

“I guess they’re as skittish as the fish back on Earth.” A minor, guilty smile came to her face as she looked at Lance, who grinned gently back and let out an amused huff, leaning his shoulder against her’s softly. Guardienne leaned into him as well and turned back to the expanse of the river, watching as creatures slowly returned from their hiding places. She glanced down the length of the river, recalling what she learned about Lance’s abilities earlier.

“Could you freeze over this whole river? Turn the whole thing into ice?” She asked curiously, wondering exactly the extent of his powers. Lance smiled at her before taking her hand in his.

“Probably, but I much more enjoy doing things like this.” He took her hand in his, his larger palm over the back of her small hand, and dipped their fingers into the water. The creatures - ruffled again from the intrusion into their domain - spread out again, but Guardienne was more interested this time in the pure white, feathery substance that began to spread across the surface of the water, originating from their hands. It looked like frost that spiraled out onto the water in every which way. As the water grew slightly colder - a sharp contrast to the striking warmth of Lance’s hand on hers - a few of the tendrils branched back towards them and crawled along the bank of the river, slipping up to slink across a few plants in it’s path.

Guardienne found herself entranced by the beauty of the living frost, even reaching down to the water with her other hand to brush her fingertips along the thin, fragile swirls. They were cold and hard to the touch, but a small amount of pressure applied made the frost dip under her fingers before she backed away. It was definitely thin and fragile; something beautiful to look at but not to touch.

She leaned against Lance a bit more without speaking, enjoying the quiet, beautiful moment they were sharing. He ran the pad of his thumb over the outer side of hers kindly.

Some time later they were moving again, trekking through light forests that were shifting into rollings hills and flatland. Guardienne savored the light breeze and warm sun as it traveled across the land and brushed her skin. It was a good thing that the weather was nice, otherwise Lance would have needed to change his plans. Guardienne was truly enjoying the date so far - if she knew what this date would be like beforehand, only for it to be changed by the weather, she would have been severely disappointed. However, this brought the thought of what Lance would have done if they couldn’t have gotten this far into the date.

As they walked, they discussed Lance’s backup plans, revealing that he - in the event of bad weather or something else restricting his original plans - would have then opted to spend the day with her in one of their rooms, probably his, or possibly have spent time somewhere else. If the weather wasn’t too bad - just a small bit of rain or something - then he would have even considered taking her to sit underneath the Cherry Tree to spend time in silence together. Frankly, he had a lot of things in mind that they could have done, it just would have depended on her mood and the weather.

They talked for a while until they encountered a shallow ravine, and Lance put his arm out to stop her, staring intently at the pointy, vibrant colored plants that dusted the bottom. He grabbed a nearby branch and stuck one end into the ravine - sinking a few feet into the plants before hitting solid ground - and continued to do the same motion as he walked alongside the dip, poking the stick against the ground every few feet as it hit at a slowly quickening pace. Guardienne watched with interest as Lance continued to walk further before he turned to her with a faint grin and a raised eyebrow.

“I hope you don’t intend to stand there all day. It’ll be easier to cross when the dip is more shallow.”

He turned back to testing the depth and walking as Guardienne snapped out of her watching, a grin making it’s way to her face as she began to follow him. The stick reached only a foot or two deep into the ravine now.

“I don’t know, I was thinking I would stand there until you decided to carry me across like a princess. Add a new twist to the typical story of a princess being kidnapped by a fearsome dragon, you know?” She spoke in a humored tone, turning her gaze away for a moment to look at their surroundings, only to begin to turn her attention back to him when she heard the thump of the stick falling to the ground.

She let out a surprised squeak as she suddenly found herself off the ground, leaning back and being pulled to Lance’s chest as he picked her up with ease. Her hands found holds within his armor to cling to him as he began heading towards the ravine.

“Lance! What are you doing!?” She laughed as she clung to him, pleasantly shocked at his sudden actions.

“Well fortunately the kidnapping part is over, so now this age-old, horrifying tale can be continued in a lighter manner - per se with the beautiful princess being protected by said fearsome dragon from potentially poisonous plants. It’s better if only one of us trek through this instead of both.” He spoke in a light tone as well, a smirk on his face as he glanced over to meet her gaze quickly. The reminder of the kidnapping - and his past overall - weren’t a usually pleasant memory, yet somehow she made it easy to pass over, even joke about on occasion.

“Hey, I probably could have carried you.” Gaurdienne laughs as she says this, looking up at him with a humorous but fierce gaze. Lance found himself shaking with laughter as well.

“I’d like to see you try!”

He sets her down gently on the other side of the ravine, keeping a hand on her hip as she finds stable footing along the slope and rocks before they head off again, talking and joking with each other all the while.

Lance certainly begins to open up as they walk, and Guardienne’s time with him turns less from a date with the man who once tried to kill her - and who’s loyalty she questions sometimes - to an enjoyable hang-out with someone who might as well have been an old friend. They find themselves laughing about many different things and carrying witty conversations together, occasionally broken by Lance adding in small informational bits regarding things they pass by that Guardienne comments on.

Eventually the forest is left behind them and they start their hike across rolling, wide pastures, the wind breezing through the tall grass as they climbed their way up a sloping hill. A strong wind current hit Guardienne at the top before calming as she looked at the land around them.

A beautiful river curled around the base of the hill, and a small lake sat off not too far in the distance, leading further to forest again. Clouds still dotted the sky, with no storm in sight.

“Are you hungry?” Guardienne turned her attention back to Lance as he spoke, glancing up to note the sun’s position in the sky. It was high above them, but was noticeably starting it’s decline towards the horizon again.

“Yea. Now that you say it, I am starting to get hungry.”

They stopped on the hill and Lance began to scan the ground, fussing with the travel bag as he stared at one spot.

He slightly nervously pulled out a thin, soft blanket from within the small travel bag, letting the faint wind spread it out as he laid it on the ground.

“Wait, did you drag me all the way out here for a picnic?” Guardienne giggled as she watched his ministrations, and a faint dark red brushed Lance’s face as he paused and avoided her gaze.

“I suppose it does look like that.” He grinned broadly and breathed a laugh. Lance originally saw the date as a combination of many things that they’d both enjoy, but it did seem like the main highlight was their lunch now...

“Don’t worry, I’ve enjoyed the whole date so far. Unless the food sprouts wings I don’t think it’ll rival the thrilling ride you gave me.” Guardienne giggled as she approached the blanket he set down.

“Who said I was worried?” He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a sly grin now.

“Ugh, fine then Mr. Cool and Collected... That’s a nice look on you by the ways.” She brushed off his comment and internally laughed at the contradiction she pointed out, looking away before meeting his gaze again with a tinge of smugness.

“It would look better on you.” Lance quickly retorted. Guardienne couldn’t stop her shy grin and her heart from racing when he turned his sharp blue gaze on her, a blush faintly dusting his face as he grinned dangerously at her through narrowed eyes. Somehow, no matter what state he’s in, he always seems to manage to get her restless.

They settled onto the blanket - Lance resting his sword on the ground next to the cloth so it was out of the way - and began to unpack the food that Karuto cooked, placing it carefully on slightly uneven ground. They carried on conversations as they ate, enjoying the warmth of the day and the breeze that brushed by, even spotting a wild rabbit-like creature racing across the grassland.

Some time later, after their meal was finished and the scraps packed up tightly in the travel bag to take back, they laid back on the blanket, watching as snowy clouds passed overhead. Guardienne suggested that they stay there for a while and watch the clouds, and she began pointing out certain clouds that looked like shapes or companions to her. Lance quickly caught on to the idea and pointed out a few things as well. They even started debating what clouds looked like what, nipping lightly at each other with humorous words when they scuffled about whether a cloud looked like a Warrifang or a Gallytrot.

Eventually they continued their journey across the prairie, heading towards the small lake in the distance. When it was finally up close - the sun truly beginning it’s descent towards the horizon, casting a chilled breeze across the land and gorgeously highlighting the colors of grass and lake alike - she looked into the water. Small pebbles were scattered across the lake bottom, and she stopped at the edge to peer across the water as Lance walked a bit further. He took her hand gently, drawing her attention back to him to look at him in surprise.

Lance was standing on the water in front of her.

Guardienne looked at the surface of the water that he stood on to find it iced over - a circle that surrounded him by a few feet - thicker where he stood and thinning out until it crackled away at the edges. She looked up to meet his gaze with shock.

"Come on." He urged her to step out onto the ice with him with a humored smile, placing a foot in front of her path to summon another ice circle for her before backing off.

Really, she shouldn't have been so surprised - his abilities heavily vary in their use, so it makes complete sense that he could do this. However, she couldn’t shake the flutter in her chest as she looked at him. Was it his casualness that she was actually taking most attention to? Was she actually enjoying this date more than she realized?

Guardienne reached out with a tentative foot, placing it steadily on the ice. It shifted under her weight, slightly floating away as her foot pressed against it and continuing its journey away even after she took her foot off it. Lance placed a foot on the circle at it began to float away, holding it steady and adding more ice onto it to create a bigger circle for her. She looked back up at him with a grin.

"You're kidding me right? Why just little circles? Why not freeze over the whole lake?"

Her hesitance hid worry underneath the surface that Lance caught on to, and he gently grinned back.

"Freezing over the whole thing could have adverse effects to the environment. It's safer to freeze it in small sections. Now get on the ice before I pick you up and place you on it." His tone turned affectionately amused at the last sentence, and then added in a serious, gentle tone; "I won't let you fall in, I promise."

Guardienne looked back at the ice before gently placing her foot on it again, now a bit more confident that it would be stable with Lance holding it - it was his ice after all. It shifted again slightly under her weight, but she committed to her decision and lifted her other foot off the ground to place on the ice, gripping Lance's arm the whole time for support. He wouldn't let her fall, right?

Lance kept her hand in one of his while his other went to her waist to stabilize her as she grew closer, freezing over the small, thinly-iced gap between them so she could basically press herself against him as she looked at the water around them. Guardienne leaned against him slightly as she faintly caught his scent, feeling safe in his arms from the possibility of taking a lake bath.

"Have you never walked on ice before?" He asked gently. Guardienne looked up at him again.

"Well, I've slipped on ice multiple times, but I don’t think I’ve ever achieved the skillful feat of walking on ice." Her tone was humorous as she grinned. Lance smiled back.

"It's not that hard once you know how, you just need to be careful with how you place your feet. It should be easier since you're expecting to step on ice, too."

Lance took a step forward, heading further onto the lake as ice formed under his foot just before he touched the surface of the water. Guardienne took an awkward step forward as well, hesitantly placing her foot down as ice formed under her as well. A small laugh escaped the dragon next to her.

“You can walk normally, you don’t need to step where you think the ice will form. It’ll appear under you no matter where you step.”

“Why will it just appear under me? How do I know it’s not going to form somewhere else?” Guardienne joined his subtle laugh as she clung to him. The water beneath them was beautiful, but she really didn’t want to get wet at the moment.

“Because I’m watching you, it forms under you because I make it do so.”

“And what if you’re not watching me?”

“That’s impossible.” The response slipped out before he could stop it and Guardienne’s gaze shot back up to look at him with an affectionately amused smile. Lance averted his gaze with a minor blush again, grinning faintly as well. He didn’t mean to say that, but it was true all the same.

“Come on, you won’t slip or fall into the lake, I promise.”

They walked further out into the lake and Guardienne calmed down over time, eventually trusting the ice enough to walk by herself - although she still held Lance’s hand tightly - as she scanned the surface of the water and watched as ice formed under her no matter where she stepped. It was fascinating, really; it formed nearly instantly and immediately faded back to water after she moved further.

Lance managed to distract her a bit by sparking conversations, of which she happily took part in, her gaze shifting between him, the ice and water, and the trees off in the distance that they were heading towards. She squinted her eyes to see a certain tree a bit better. Was that a hint of blue?

A splash in the water stole her attention and she quickly looked down to see a large, scaly shape receding back to the depths of the lake. She continued to walk alongside Lance, but kept her eyes firmly on the water. Another large, scaly shape rushed by, almost translucent but with hints of colors dotting along it’s body. Guardienne froze in her steps with wide eyes - it was nearly half her size!

“Lance there are monsters in these waters.” She held tight to his hand as he stopped beside her, looking down into the water with her. Another creature arced in the water and Lance grinned at her amusing statement.

“Not monsters.” He spoke in a light tone, crouching down on the ice and opening the travel bag to fish out a few bread scraps.

A large chunk of bread landed in the water and floated for a moment. Guardienne crouched down next to Lance, sticking close to his side. After a few moments of waiting, a large, slightly translucent creature reared out of the water, opening a great maw to swallow the bread whole. Beady black eyes whirled around as it breached the surface, locking on the couple before it submerged again.

“Great Oracle, what is that!?” And so began another moment of Lance imparting some of his knowledge to her.

Guardienne eventually relaxed in the presence of the fish-like creatures, hesitantly taking a scrap of bread that Lance gifted her and placing it in the water, her hand hesitating to reel back as she considered pushing it further out. Lance reached out and gently took her hand in his to pull it back, and mere moments after he did so, another creature dashed out and closed it’s jaws around the bread with a snap. Guardienne basically threw herself back against Lance with a squeak.

“Note to self, don’t give them your hand!” She laughed as surprise and amusement fluttered through her being, clinging to him again for a moment.

“It nearly took my hand clean off!” Her gaze turned to meet Lance’s before turning back to where the creature disappeared as Lance shook with laughter.

“You would have been fine!”

“Are you kidding me? With a big mouth like that it would have taken my arm, too!”

“Suppose I should keep my hand away from your mouth in that case.”

“Oh, hush, you! You know that’s not true!”

Their laughter died down in time and they continued their walk across the water, Guardienne now being a lot more comfortable with the ice below their feet. They approached the shore and Lance let Guardienne step onto the ground first, following immediately after as the ice disappeared back into lake water. Standing at the shore, Guardienne could see the tree she was looking at earlier. It was tall, and it’s branches curved beautifully downward with thick, deep blue flowers stemming from the twigs. The sinking sun beautifully highlighted the deep colors on it and illuminated the grass around the trunk. She stared in awe and Lance turned to look as well.

“It’s beautiful... what type of tree is it?”

They began to approach it - not realizing that their hands were still clasped together - and stood beneath the draping branches.

“I’m not sure, I’ve seen this type of tree a few times but I don’t know anything of it.” Lance brushed his hand along a curved branch - the wood smooth to the touch - and peered at Guardienne to get a better read on her opinion of the tree.

Guardienne parted herself from Lance to look closer at the blue flowers, lightly touching the silken petals and bending closer to breathe in the faint, sweet scent. She closed her eyes and grinned before looking up at the higher branches, embracing the beautiful color of mixed brown and blue. Light scuffling broke her out of her trance and she looked to the trunk to find Lance on the first few branches above her, curiosity flooding her mind as she stepped a bit closer and watched him scale the tree. He nearly disappeared into the branches and flowers, standing for a few moments on a branch uncomfortably high above the ground before making his way down again, the broken side of a small twig with a beautiful array of sky blue flowers clamped between his teeth.

He landed softly on the ground and presented the twig to her, and Guardienne happily took it to admire the vibrant blue of the flowers compared to the softer cobalt blue of the flowers on branches closer to the ground.

“You know, you could have just picked a twig from one of the branches already in reach.” She joked lightly. Lance grinned.

“What fun would that be? Besides, the ones closer to the ground seem to be starting to wilt, the top of the tree has better flowers.”

He watched Guardienne as she smiled softly at the twig she held in her hand, raising it to breathe in the lighter scent and stroke a petal.

“I would almost think you’d change the tides of water for me.” She spoke softly, affectionately reflecting on everything he did for her today.

Lance heard her all the same, and a warmth bloomed in his chest as he watched the setting sun light her skin aglow with the flower branch. I would move the world for you, he thought. However, he held his tongue - it was too soon to be revealing how deep his affection for her ran, it would likely unsettle her - and instead glanced at the sun’s position on the horizon. It was nearly sunset.

“We should probably head back, it’s getting late and we have a dinner to attend.”

Guardienne glanced at the sun as well.

“Yea... no flying spectacles this time?” She turned her gentle gaze to him and smiled.

“No flying spectacles.” He grinned back with soft eyes and rested a hand on her lower back as they headed into the grassland again, Guardienne safely tucking the flower twig into a snug fold in her shirt so the wind wouldn’t steal it away.

“The flight back should be beautiful with the sunset.” She murmured, lightly nudging against Lance. This date turned out better than she originally hoped, and she reminded herself to thank him for the wonderful experience later.

“It will be.”

Lance shifted into his dragon form and they took to the skies again, Guardienne glancing back at the land that would forever hold a dear place in her heart.

That wasn’t the last time they visited that lake and tree.

I have absolutely no idea on if this is supposed to be a headcanon or a scenario, but I hope you like it regardless! I had so many ideas I wanted to add to this, but by then I’d be writing an actual short story just for their first date lol. Maybe I’ll write a part 2 to their first date (second date I suppose, that’ll be a bit more intimate than this one), or general date headcanons with those ideas.

Thank you for requesting, this was a wonderful ask!

Have a request? Ask them here!

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#Eldarya #Eldarya ane #Eldarya Lance #Eldarya Lance ane #eldarya lance headcanons #fenristheorem writing #askfenris

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years ago

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Death Threats

Summary: What if the people threatening Barba went after you, too?

Warnings: Angst. Injury. Fluff. (I realized the timing puts this in the episode Heartfelt Passages, so that was a busy day for poor Rafi.)

Dedicated to @teamsladsandgents for inspiring me to get stabby.

2,256 words

You thought he punched you, the man in the elevator. It wasn’t until the doors chimed open and he was striding quickly but casually from the building that you realized you were bleeding.

The inch-wide slit in your shirt took a moment to start bleeding in earnest as you stood in shock, time frozen along with your body. Then thick, dark amounts of it began streaming through your fingers.

The elevator doors were sliding shut before you thought to stumble out with your last ounce of strength—to scream for help—before your body sank to the ground, leaving you alone in your metal coffin. You tried to sit up again, but it hurt and made more blood come out.

You couldn’t reach the elevator buttons.

You were so tired.

The funny thing was, you weren’t afraid. Just disappointed. You always thought you’d turn into an action hero if you were attacked—that adrenaline would awaken some ferocious, hitherto unseen warrior within, like Jason Bourne.

But it all happened so fast.

It was over before you noticed a blade in his hand. Over before you processed that he had said something to you, just before that dull punch in your gut.

“That ADA you’re fucking sticks his nose in the wrong people’s business.”

It was strange that you weren’t thinking about your mom or your best friend of ten years. As you pressed as hard as you could to stem the bleeding, you didn’t see your whole life flash before your eyes. The only thing on your mind was your boyfriend of the last several months, the sarcastic lawyer who kept so many walls up, and the petty argument you got into earlier about his canceling lunch plans again.

None of it seemed real. Didn’t seem like the way the story of your life ought to end—bleeding out in an elevator.

It was getting hard to concentrate on what to do next.

OK. The buttons wouldn’t work. Too far to reach.

No one can hear you scream.

Phone.

Your phone was in your pocket, but you had to take one of your hands off of clamping your gut to reach it. Blood streamed through your fingers—so much blood from such a small hole. Your hand was too slick with it and shaking to grab hold of the phone. If you could get it, you could call 911.

“Work, you fucking hand,” you thought. You thought that was an undignified last thought. It should be something profound. Poetic.

But no. Your last thought was going to be swearing at a Samsung.

Tired.

You never remembered if you managed to get the phone from your pocket or not. It didn’t matter anymore.

The last thing you remembered thinking about was Rafael finding out you were gone, his eyes red from mourning. Blaming himself. You wished you could tell him… If you died, you wouldn’t be there to cup his cheek, to make him smile again. To tell him what you whispered to the dark elevator, alone.

“It’s not your fault, Rafi.”

***

The man’s name was Felipe Heredio, a lieutenant of the BX9 street gang. There was already a warrant out for his arrest when he stabbed you. ADA Rafael Barba identified him in a lineup as the man who was stalking him only an hour after a neighbor found you lying in a pool of blood. The fact that he was already in police custody might have been relieving to you if you were conscious. You might have felt proud that it was Barba who ensured he was arrested.

And your heart might have broken when Barba’s phone rang, and his entire world stopped.

***

Rafael’s eyes were red from crying when you woke up with oxygen tubes in your nose, and your hand cradled in his. Your throat hurt more than anything else, oddly, which you would later learn was from being intubated for surgery.

The first word you croaked upon regaining consciousness was, “Sorry.”

A collection of empty coffee cups was scattered around the feet of his chair so he could stand vigil for however long you had been out. His eyes were not only red and wet, but bulging with that jittery, over-tired, caffeine anxiety.

You knew how busy Rafael was. That it was a weekday (technically, it was already tomorrow), and he’d have court in the morning. What you didn’t know, because he didn’t want to weigh you down with his world, was that Barba had already mourned one death today, and that one more loss might break him.

You were sorry for causing him so much trouble.

Rafael was having none of it, of course. He tried to keep his voice from shaking when he told you, “Why in god’s name would you be sorry?” followed by barking, “Stop that—don’t try to sit up. Nurse!”

His bedside manner was well and truly atrocious.

The next hour was a dizzying blur of nurses checking your vitals and helping you use the bathroom, then answering a uniformed officer whose questions you could barely understand through the morphine haze.

When it became clear what had happened and why, Rafael became unusually quiet. All of his follow-up questions and complaints of, “is this really necessary? Can’t you do this later?” fell away. He slumped in the visitor’s chair beside your bed, his hand still holding yours, but in pensive silence until the officer finished, leaving you alone except for the security detail at the door.

Then the apologies came. The heavy confessions that he’d been receiving threats for a year, and this was all, all his fault. Admittedly, if it weren’t for the morphine drip dulling everything, you might have been pissed off that he knew this might happen and kept it to himself. He kept so much to himself, you had to read about his cases online to know what was going on in his life. But his face—which you always thought babyish, with his smooth cheeks and lips ever-ready to flash a sarcastic smirk—was drawn, making him look old and haggard. He was too serious, too raw to possibly blame him.

“I’m so sorry for putting you in danger. I never should have gotten you involved in this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is,” he choked. “I’ve been getting threats since I indicted those cops, and I haven’t exactly been on… anyone’s good side. I should never have started dating you.”

Like a slap in the face, that sting made it through the morphine. You jerked your hand out of his.

“That came out wrong. It’s true, though. I was selfish to think I could…” He gave a melancholy sigh as he sank back in the chair. “It will be safer if we keep our distance from now on. This will never happen to you again.”

You never imagined you could get stabbed and have your heart broken on the same day, or that the latter would hurt worse.

“Then what are you even doing here?!”

“I had to know you were OK. But as long as I’m getting death threats—”

“Wait, wait. You’re saying you’d rather give up being with me than give up a legal battle with powerful enemies?”

His eyes widened and he stared like a deer in the headlights, only where the deer was an insensitive workaholic, and the headlights were the blinding rays of truth. It wasn’t even a surprise that he hadn’t thought of it that way—this was every fight he’d had with an ex just before they broke up with him.

“I, uh—”

You grabbed his face and dragged him down into the softest kiss, which was not what he was expecting. He almost yelped (though it melted into a whine) when his fiery hot, coffee-flavored lips hit your cool ones. When he pulled back, lips wet and parted, his brow furrowed in confusion over still-widened eyes.

“You are… the sweetest.” Your hand lingered on his cheek as you gave a doped-up-on-painkillers smile. “The most selfless, noble… bravest… amazing man I have ever met. I love you so much.”

“I… what?”

“Rafael”—your thumb lazily stroked his cheek—“I know how much you care about me. Even though you��re married to your job and it’s frustrating as hell sometimes, I’ve never been insecure that you don’t love me enough. I know you never tell me about your cases because you want me to be able to sleep at night. You worry about me too much. And you always look so nervous whenever I leave, like you think I’m never coming back this time.

“So the fact that you would sacrifice your own happiness before you’d let an injustice go unanswered… that’s incredible. You do nothing but give a voice to the voiceless all day, working yourself to the bone without considering the cost to your personal life. You’re like a superhero, ADA Barba.”

A short breath of a laugh escaped his lips as his hand came up to the side of his face to cover yours. His eyes were watery, and he looked like he was about to break down again as he bitterly whispered, “A superhero who almost got you killed.”

“I’m not leaving you, you know.”

“Cariño. If anything happened to you, I couldn’t—couldn’t…”

“Nothing’s going to happen. It’ll be OK. I’m not leaving you alone.”

A tear wavered precariously close to the rim of his eyelid until he turned away, rubbing his face. It was gone when he turned back. “You could have died because of my fucking work! I’ve never given you the time you deserve. How do you still want to be around me?”

“Hey, someone has to be there to protect you when you get yourself in trouble,” you grinned.

Rafael Barba couldn’t take any more. He bent over the hospital bed and wrapped his arms around you, doing his best not to snag any of the many tubes coming out of you or put any weight on anything below your diaphragm, but hugging you to him as tightly as he could. You felt his trembling breathing in your hair, and hot wet spots pooling on your neck.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Your free arm closed over his back, stroking his broad, tense muscles through his shirt. “I’m really glad I didn’t die,” you whispered, finally allowing yourself to feel scared now that he was here. “I didn’t want to die yet. Not like that.”

“I’m sorry.” He breathed in, and his arms tightened protectively. “You have no idea how terrified I was. I’m so sorry…”

“Shh,” you whispered. You clung to him, soothed by his familiar cedar and citrus scent, fainter now after a long, harrowing day, mixed with the masculine smell of sweat.

“I’m glad you’re alive, too. I can’t lose you. I can’t. I love you more than anything.”

Soon—too soon, because you wanted to continue talking—you drifted to sleep in his arms. And once again too soon, you woke up with your entire abdomen on fire, and nurses bringing you pain medication. Rafael was still there, half asleep next to you in the narrow bed.

He didn’t leave you.

Even if it put you in danger, he would rather be beside you, making sure you were OK than cutting you out of his life and hoping the bad guys got the memo. He couldn’t put you through that pain, even if he could do it to himself. Especially when you pondered aloud to him whether you’d survived because you were thinking about him—that you refused to die before seeing him again, knowing what a wreck he would be.

Recovery was long, and interspersed with doing nothing but fall asleep when you’d rather stay awake, and not being able to sleep at all. Rafael (and his security detail) moved into your apartment when you were released from the hospital so he could take care of you—as grumpy and bossy and sarcastic as his bedside manner might be.

You swore you were going to sign up for Krav Maga or Cobra Kai or something once you could exercise again, since apparently you were not a secret knife-fighting ninja deep down. Next time, you wanted to be a badass who could fight back, and never let anyone harm your overzealous ADA when he kicked the hornet’s nest.

Eventually, you would convince him that it wasn’t his fault that bad guys had acted like bad guys. And he would convince you that taking care of you wasn’t a burden—that the emergency time off from work was worth it. He started replacing “sorry” with “I love you.”

In the end, while you wouldn’t say being stabbed was a good thing, or that you’d choose to be stabbed again if you had the option, it did ensure Heredio was put away for a long, long time. It left you with a cool scar, and a new catchphrase for expressing your displeasure—“I’d rather be stabbed again than do the dishes!”

Fine, it also left you jumpy and made your chest tight whenever you found yourself alone in an elevator.

But most importantly, it brought down the walls Rafael had been keeping up around himself. He talked to you more. You talked to each other more. And he remembered to—on occasion—take time out of his heroic, selfless life of battling injustice, and selfishly spend it with you.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

@beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @delia26 / @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes / @storiesofsvu

#Rafael Barba #Rafael Barba x Reader #my writing

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thebookreader12345 · 3 years ago

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750 Followers Celebration - Q&A

Thank you so much for supporting me through this journey! You guys don't know how much this means to me. Every single one of you is amazing.

Below the cut are my answers to the questions that you all submitted.

Q: Do you think Jay is going to become Sergeant this season? A: There has been a lot of debate over this question because of the past few seasons and all of the "Easter eggs", like the sergeant exam poster hanging in the background of the show. In my opinion, I do not believe Jay will become Sergeant. Yet. I think it won't be until the beginning of next season because, if this is a possible storyline, I would expect that the producers and writers would make the finale of season 9 about Voight stepping down/getting promoted, etc.

Q: Did Chicago Justice deserve more episodes? A: I'm sort of split with this question. I loved the fact that there was a big episode involving Kevin, and they always included people from Med, Fire, and PD in some of the episodes. However, the whole plot of the episodes was kind of slow because it wasn't like they were police officers and could go out and chase suspects and arrest people and what not. Their job was just to gather the evidence and then present it in court. I think for many, the show fell flat because there wasn't much action, and part of me does agree with that, but the whole idea of the show itself was kind of cool.

Q: What would make you stop watching each Chicago show? A: This is a tough question because I've only ever dropped one show that I can think of, and it was only because the plotline got really dumb. Maybe if some major characters died in each show I'd stop watching it? But then again, I love the One Chicago universe so much that I don't think even that would stop me from watching. So yeah. I really don't know.

Q: Do you believe in magic? A: As much as I would love for magic to be real, I don't believe it is. But I feel like everyone thinks that way. Cause lets be honest, Harry Potter and Disney make magic look so cool. However, we all know deep down somewhere that it's almost impossible for certain things to be real, and magic just so happens to be one of them.

Q: Are you superstitious? A: I'm not the most superstitious person out there, but I do somewhat follow a few superstitions. Whenever I find a penny on the ground with heads facing up, I pick it up because I believe I'll get good luck. Doing the whole "fingers crossed" thing is something I do a lot. I believe you shouldn't open an umbrella in the house or else you'll receive bad luck. Broken mirrors are bad omens. Those are the top 4 I believe in, but other than that, I'm not really too superstitious.

Q: Is your perception of yourself similar or the same to how others perceive you? A: I mean, I would hope so. I appreciate my level of smarts, and whenever my friends acknowledge them or compliment me on them it makes my day. However, with that, people think that I'm always only doing things to boost my intelligence. For example, I love to read. So whenever I say that I didn't do much over the weekend, people always assume that I read a bunch, when I really didn't. Or that I always study for tests or do homework like a week before it's do. That is not the case. But for the most part, I believe my perception of myself is the same as how other people perceive me.

Q: Who is your favorite couple on each One Chicago show? A: Okay, so for Med, there aren't really any couples at the moment besides Maggie and Ben, whom I love but they aren't my favorite, so I'm gonna pick a past couple. When I first started Med, Manstead was my prime ship, so I'll choose them. Will had been pining after Natalie for so long so I was glad when they finally got together. For Fire, it's gotta be Kelly and Stella. They were literally made for each other, and they support each other with everything. Also, they are so cute together and all of Firehouse 51 ships them as well! And for PD, while I do love Burzek, Upstead is my favorite ship at the moment. I've seen the connection between Hailey and Jay since season 5. You don't understand how angry I was in season 7 when Hailey was so close to confessing her feelings. So season 8 made me very happy when Jay and Hailey finally got together.

Q: Jay and Lindsey or Jay and Hailey? A: I respect everyone's opinions on this matter, so hopefully you all respect mine. I thought that Erin was almost toxic in a way for Jay. She continuously broke his heart when all he wanted to do was help him. But what really does it for me is that she left Chicago without telling him goodbye. Hailey, on the other hand, has pushed Jay to seek out help when he needed it, like when she recommended he take seeing a therapist seriously to help with his PTSD, and she is always there for him, no matter what. That's why I believe Hailey and Jay are the better pairing.

Q: Which character death got to you the most? A: There have been too many sad deaths in the One Chicago world. But if I had to pick one, I've gotta go with Otis on Chicago Fire. Otis was always one of my favorite characters, even way back when I watched Fire with my dad when it was first coming out. He was witty and funny, and his friendship with Cruz was everything. So, when I watched the episode where he died, I was full on balling. I had to pause the episode for 10 minutes because I couldn't stop.

Q: Who is your favorite character on each show and why? A: I'm gonna do favorite male and female character because I've got too many favorites from each show. On Med, my favorites are Will and Natalie. Will has been my favorite since day one, and I like that he will go out of his way to help patients, even if it means he could get in serious trouble. Natalie, even though she's not in the show, always pushes for the best of care for her patients, and whenever she dealt with kids it was always the sweetest thing. On Fire, I like Kelly and Sylvie. Kelly is so headstrong and driven, and he will do anything to protect the other members of Squad 3. Sylvie is such a hard worker and you can tell she is passionate about her job. I feel so bad that she's had to go through so many partners. On PD I love Jay and Hailey. Jay has not always been my favorite male character. Back when I watched the show for the first time, I adored Adam. However, I love that Jay has such good morals and is always pushing to do the right thing even when Voight disagreed. Now, it took a few episodes for me to warm up to Hailey, but after seeing her be so badass, it was hard not to like her.

Q: Where do you get inspiration for your stories?/How do you get inspiration when there's not a request? A: This question is always hard to answer because I really don't know. Most of the time I'm fulfilling requests sent in by you guys and I just write what comes to the top of my mind. If there are requests that are not requested and I come up with them on my own, chances are I saw the plot somewhere else, like in a book or show or movie, and I just tweaked it a bit to fit the One Chicago universe. Either that happens, or while I'm trying to fall asleep, I make up random scenarios in my head, and if I find one that I really like, I'll make a note of it on my phone so I don't forget it, and then I'll write about it.

Q: Do you think Brett and Casey are endgame? Why or why not? A: I'm gonna go with yes on this one. Now, Brettsey is not one of my top ships in the universe. However, they are cute together, and I've been expecting them to get together for a while. The two of them, even when Gabby was around, had a great relationship and always cared for each other. Plus, Matt jumped out of a firetruck to go help Sylvie when the ambulance flipped. He was willing to risk an injury just to make sure she was okay. And now that they are officially together in Chicago Fire, you can see that they really love and care for each other.

Q: What inspired you to start writing? A: I always seem to get this question whenever I do a q&a, but that's okay because I don't mind talking about it. I first got into stuff like this as a reader. Basically, I went on to Wattpad and Tumblr to read other people's stories. I had no intention of creating my own. And then, one day, I started imagining myself in some of the fandoms I was apart of, and I thought, "If I'm imagining myself in these fandoms, chances are others are too," and I began creating stories that followed the plots of movies and shows exactly, just adding Y/n in it. However, that got tiring after a while because I wasn't able to have much freedom because I was following a set script, and that's when I remembered I had a Tumblr account I never used. So, I revamped my account just a little bit and started posting story ideas I had that I couldn't post on Wattpad because either they didn't fit with the stories or they were for someone I didn't write for on Wattpad. And now, here we are. For anyone interested, I've posted this before but I'll post it again, my Wattpad handle is @Writer_Reader05.

Q: Jay or Will Halstead? A: I'm sorry, but I really can't choose between the two of them. I love them both so much. Will and Jay are two of my favorite characters in the whole One Chicago universe. While they do have some qualities that I'm not the fondest of, at the end of the day, I adore the both of them, and I could never choose between them.

Q: Who would you rather date: Jay or Will Halstead? A: Why do you guys do this to me? I love them both so much! But, if I have to choose, I'm gonna pick Jay. The only reason is because I like the characters in PD more than Med, so if I'm dating Jay, chances are I'm friends with Hailey and Adam and all of Intelligence. Will is just as awesome as Jay though and I feel like sometimes people sleep on that.

Q: Which of the requested fics you’ve written is your favorite? A: I think I'm gonna have to go with a Jay Halstead x reader I wrote titled Two Becomes Three. Something about the plot just makes me smile. And to think of Jay being a father......So yeah, while I have so many amazing requested fics thanks to you all, that one has to be one of my favorites.

Q: What’s your favorite series you’ve written so far? A: I love all of the series I have written. Something about creating a whole story that's more than just one part is always fun. If I have to pick one series, I'm gonna pick On the Loose. It was the first series I wrote on Tumblr and the plot of it is something I'm really proud of. However, From the Big Apple to the Windy City, Identity Loss, and Difference of Opinion are all amazing! The first two are finished series and the last one still has a few chapters left to go. Go check them out if you haven't already.

Q: What's your favorite imagine you've come up with and why? A: I don't have a lot of fics that are solely my ideas. Most of my stories have plots that were sent in by you all. However, if I had to pick a favorite out of my stories, it'd be Back Home for Christmas, a Halstead Sister fic I released when I was somewhat new to the platform. Something about writing sibling fics always makes me happy because I get to express the familial side to the characters.

Q: If you had to be roommates with 5 of your mutuals/fellow writers, who would you pick and why? A: I love all of my fellow writers/mutuals so much! I know how much work we put into whatever we post, and most of us are very active on this site. As for who I would pick to be my roommates, I'd choose @hereforhalstead @fighterkimburgess @halsteadlover @resanoona @sylviebrettsey because I feel like we'd all have great conversations, mainly over One Chicago. And every Wednesday night we'd all watch the episodes live together and experience them as a group and then freak out over what happened..........Now watch me fantasize about this all day.

Q: Do you listen to music when you write? A: It depends. On some days when I plan that I'm gonna write, then yes, I do put on some music. When there are days that I have a few minutes to spare, I don't put on music just because I'm only writing for a few minutes and I don't want to waste time. But mostly when I'm writing I do play music in the background.

Q: Do you know how your fics/stories end before you finish writing it? A: This is a really interesting question. The answer is no, I do not know how I'm gonna end a fic before I finish writing it. The only story I had a set ending for was my series On the Loose, but that one wasn't even fully planned out until I got a chapter or two in. Obviously, if I get a request that includes a set ending, like two characters get together or something like that, then I know what the ending will be. Otherwise, I have no clue.

Q: Have you ever met someone who had a very similar personality to your own? Did you get along? A: You know, I can't say that I have. Everyone is different in their own way, and that's what makes us all unique. I would imagine if I did meet someone with a similar personality we'd get along because we'd basically be a carbon copy of each other, but who knows. Maybe our similar personalities would cause us to clash.

Q: Do you hold yourself to higher standards than you hold others? A: Not really. I know myself more than anyone else so I know what my limits are and when I've reached them. With people, on the other hand, I always feel like they can be doing more with themselves and their lives. So I do not hold myself to higher standards than others.

Thank you to all of you who sent in questions! I never thought I'd reach 750 followers on this platform. The only reason I have is all thanks to you wonderful people out there!

@winterberryfox @maximeevansblog @scarletsoldierrr @i-like-sparkly-things @dreamingmanip @soph0864 @ryliegh8 @lorenakaspersen @wanniiieeee @nevertoofarfromivar @securityfriendly-jay @pinkbay-love @stephie123

#one chicago #q&a time #q&a session #question and answer #750 followers

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highfaelucien · 3 years ago

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I completely agree with how you feel towards azriel. Thinking about azriel’s character now vs how I used to view him during acomaf times is just... sad and so so so much more complex. Part of me still wants to love him for the character that was presented to us in acomaf and other small good moments, like his friendship with nesta. And then the other part of me is disgusted, disappointed, and honestly kind of terrified of who he may become if sjm allows him to continue acting predatorily/toxic. The whole mor/az situation really fucked me up. As someone who is also a lesbian and an abuse survivor, it broke my heart to watch the situation unfold in acowar. It still hurts seeing many readers (and sometimes even sjm) take az’s side and paint mor as some sort of liar/two faced character that is playing everyone. I kept thinking that things would be fixed in future books, but instead az has grown worse and mor was, once again, sidelined and written out as a character. And honestly... as much as I love the idea of gwyn x azriel ... I think his books would need a lot more focus on his own recovery/growth and not center on a romantic relationship. If anything, I hope it’s written as friends to lovers so az has a better way of interacting and forming relationships with women. Because right now... well, that shit is borderline predatory and isn’t coming across well. And I really really do not want that for him. Basically, azriel deserves a better arc than what has been written for him. I miss him :( he used to be a character that made me feel safe and now :/ idk anymore

I'm going to quote parts of this/chop it up and reply to them a chunk at a time. because there's a lot going on here and I want to try and reply to as much as I can because I resonate with.....all of it. Please forgive me for the length of this.

I completely agree with how you feel towards azriel. Thinking about azriel’s character now vs how I used to view him during acomaf times is just... sad and so so so much more complex.

He feels like a different character? There was always an anger simmering under the calm surface, we knew that. But it was an anger born of love, deep down, and the desire to protect his family, and his court, at the expense of himself. Az was always the first to volunteer himself for dangerous missions, to spare the others.

Now that anger is directed at his family, and at the world, for not giving him what he feels he 'deserves'. That has NEVER been Azriel. Azriel's deepest issues and insecurities have always stemmed from the feeling of being unworthy, and undeserving of anything.

She's just made him into......Every other dude in this series tbh. Snarling, and possessive, and wanting to fuck anything in a skirt that moves.

Azriel was actually somewhat of an original, complex character initially. It's unusual that we see trauma affect men in the way it did Az. Usually it makes them angry, and vengeful, and eager to prove they are the alpha etc. Seeing them withdraw, and think less of themselves/that they're unworthy is something not explored often enough. But bye bye nuance hello #Drama.

Part of me still wants to love him for the character that was presented to us in acomaf and other small good moments, like his friendship with nesta.

I feel this. I found a lot of comfort in Az's character. Particularly the way he reacted with Mor. I was a big fan of their relationship, and I wrote a few 'missing scenes' style fics in the gap between ACOMAF and ACOWAR. One of them was where Az went to her when she had pushed everyone else away, including Cassian, and comforted and calmed her.

I hate that Maas took that away from Mor. I hate that Az no longer does that for her. I hate that Az was the one to betray her along with Rhys and bring her abuser into her safe space behind her back. I hate that he is no longer a symbol of calm, stable, dependable comfort and support for Mor, but is instead a threat. I HATE it.

Every now and then Az has lovely, gentle moments - his friendship with Nesta is a good example, and something I hoped we'd see. But also quieter times with Rhys, and their similarities being explored. And I adored the flying lessons with Feyre in ACOWAR, and the training he did with Cassian and the others in ACOFS.

But then she goes and twists him and does something else that just makes me want to fucking scream. Like the High Lord scene where he 'frightened' Mor. And his entire POV chapter which is frankly fucking gross.

And then the other part of me is disgusted, disappointed, and honestly kind of terrified of who he may become if sjm allows him to continue acting predatorily/toxic.

I agree.

I don't know how she can write a series that explores the effects of emotional abuse so well with Feyre and Tamlin...And then write what she did with Az?

The possession to a traumatised, still impressionable and desperate young woman, who likely finds the same comfort and safety in him that Mor did. Before that got shot to fucking pieces.

He sounds like a whiny toddler 'Cassian has a mate, and Rhys has a mate, where is mine!?!?!?!?' I DESERVE Elain, because I'm your brother and you guys have her sisters and what the FUCK. Who let that shit get published holy mother of god.

It's just...It's so unhealthy? Like, not even talking ship wars here (which I'm aware are rampant, and which I'm trying my best to stay away from). But that just.

How can that ever be a healthy foundation for a relationship? A man who thinks that he deserves, not only to be in a relationship with her, but to be bonded to her. Not because of HER, not because of who she is, or how she makes him feel. No. Purely because her sisters are mated to his brothers?

The whole thing made me feel so uncomfortable. It's predatory and toxic, just as you said. It's not right, it's not fair. Forget alliances and Lucien, even if none of that was a factor, that sort of thinking is still not right. And it's completely unfair to Elain.

But it also just. It didn't read like Azriel. The first part, where he struggles to sleep, and pushes himself until he passes out, and the insight that his shadows are basically hovering beside him screaming SELF CARE YOU DUMB BITCH at all times was very pleasing.

And the part where he goes to Clotho and leaves an anonymous gift for Gwyn. No fanfair. No audience. No pressure on either of them to react/perform. That felt like Az, too.

But everything in the middle. Everything with Elain, was just...Gross and out of character. And this is not because I dislike E/riel as a ship. I could get on board with it, tbh, if it wasn't written the way it was.

But it's not about ships, for me. It's just. Everything felt out of character. The predatory way he was with her. The fact he lies awake and gets himself off to fantasies of her. How apparently quickly he was aroused by putting a necklace on her. Idk, maybe it's my ace ignorance, but that doesn't sound normal/healthy to me.

Nor does him having to leave a room because he can scent her mating bond with Lucien. Or not being able to control himself to sit and eat dinner with her?

This is the same dude who has, apparently, been in love with Mor for 500 solid years, and who never did a damned thing about it. Who always kept himself in check. Even while she's had other lovers. But he can't control himself through one dinner with Elain?

It just. It doesn't feel like him. It feels like...Honestly not even Cassian. It feels like Tamlin on horny, predatory steroids. And that's not something I ever wanted to see from Azriel's POVs.

She could have explored a darker side to him without making it sexual? And misogynistic. And having him treating Elain as little more than a fucking object that he feels entitled to because 'everyone else got one, where's mine?'. What the FUCK???

The more I write it the more angry I get.

Because SJM has consistently put Az in the position of saving women when they were in danger? He was the one who found Mor near death at Autumn. He was the one who rescued Gwyn from her attackers during the war. He was the one to retrieve Elain when she was taken.

She always puts him in this position and, for better or worse, presents him as a safety figure for these women. The first person who they saw come for them, and fight for them, and protect them.

And on the inside she makes him this vile, predatory monster who just thinks constantly about fucking them? Who isn't actually safe at all?? It's sad. And it's infuriating. Because this isn't about ships anymore. This is about female survivors who have an apparent safe person who's presented as almost as dangerous as the people who attacked them in the first place. And that makes me feel so sick and sad that we've gotten here.

It still hurts seeing many readers (and sometimes even sjm) take az’s side and paint mor as some sort of liar/two faced character that is playing everyone. I kept thinking that things would be fixed in future books, but instead az has grown worse and mor was, once again, sidelined and written out as a character.

This is yet another vile thing SJM has done to queer readers with this whole fiasco. Because it puts me in a position where I want to call out her shitty writing, and what she's done to Mor - sidelining her as soon as she became queer. Undermining her power and her strength. Undermining her role as the survivor to look up to. Saying her power is truth but then making her seem like a liar. Which is all shitty, shitty, shitting writing.

But I'm also a queer person. And I will always always ALWAYS want to defend a queer person's right to remain closeted. Regardless of their reasons for doing so. But in this case it's a concern for their safety/a fear of how those around them will react. And I will NEVER condemn that. I will never say Az is suffering more than Mor for her being closeted. I will never call Mor a liar/a manipulator/two-faced when all she's doing is trying to survive.

I WILL condemn SJM for making this a scenario. For putting homophobia in her world purely to cause pain for queer characters, and drama for her straight ones. And for sidelining Mor as soon as she can't write graphic scenes with her fucking men because now she's a lesbian so we best get her off the page so the guys can get their cocks out some more.

And honestly... as much as I love the idea of gwyn x azriel ... I think his books would need a lot more focus on his own recovery/growth and not center on a romantic relationship. If anything, I hope it’s written as friends to lovers so az has a better way of interacting and forming relationships with women. Because right now... well, that shit is borderline predatory and isn’t coming across well. And I really really do not want that for him.

This is going to sound sarcastic but I actually mean it fully and completely genuinely: 95% of the drama inducing problems in this series could be fixed with some fucking therapy.

But I agree with you. I think it's high time Azriel worked on his own issues. Even if they've apparently made a complete 180 from what they were in ACOMAF.

I...Like the concept of Gwyn/Azriel, but I'm not sold on the ship. Not with the way Maas has been writing Azriel lately. That kind of man shouldn't be with any woman right now. But especially not a rape survivor who sees him as one of the first men she's been able to trust in a long time.

Basically, azriel deserves a better arc than what has been written for him. I miss him :( he used to be a character that made me feel safe and now :/ idk anymore

"he used to be a character that made me feel safe" - This shit hit me like a tonne of bricks because this is EXACTLY how I feel about Az, too. You just managed to say it in a few words instead of 12 pages of rambling, like I do.

And I think this was intention. Azriel was presented as a very dependable character. He rescued Mor, and was respectful enough to keep his distance, despite his feelings, for 500 fucking years. Because he didn't think she was ready/interested.

He had a very calm, and calming air about him. Always in control of himself. Without the expected bursts of aggression and temper we'd seen from...Every other male character in this series. He was stable, and solid, and that was comforting. An anchor. And someone who would quietly, and without fuss, seek out Mor/others when they needed someone to talk to or comfort him.

That was a very soothing, reassuring presence in the book, I felt. And now she's made him seem...volatile, and unstable. With this dangerous anger that he can't control, that he uses not to protect, but to intimidate, and to fuel his entitlement and desires.

it's just sad. It's sad that she's taken this away from Mor, but also from other survivors who found comfort and safety in Az. Because I'm sure we weren't alone in that regard.

I miss him. And I mourn the character he was, and feel anger for the character he should have been. but instead he's become yet another possessive, entitled, snarling cardboard cutout dude like...everyone else.

And I ache for the Az/Mor dynamic that we had in ACOMAF. Even without it becoming romantic, there was no reason for that to be destroyed/ruined.

She could have written it that Az is the only one who knows about her sexuality, and that he pretends he's still in love with her as a shield/buffer, so no one looks too closely/to protect her and make her feel comfortable.

Instead she turned it into a soap opera style drama. And wrote it almost as though her sexuality was her cheating on him? Denying him what he deserved. And now she's just...just pussyfooting around it. And apparently he's just. Just moved on. Without them having any kind of conversation or closure at all. He just wanks off to the thought of Elain instead of Mor, now, problem solved /s

I miss what they were. I miss what he was to Mor. I miss when she had that support system, and that safety net. I miss when he protected her. And looked out for her. And understood her in a way that no one else, not even Rhys, did.

Mor deserved that. Azriel deserved that. WE deserved that. And she nuked it for some fucking twisted drama that punishes a lesbian because a man is thirsting after her. it's a fucking disgrace. I'm so fucking done with SJM, y'all. So fucking done.

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ruby-whistler · 3 years ago

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Srry but i noticed in one of ur dream posts u Referred to tommy's cat as hope. I must correct u, that cat was born pussbou and died pussboi. /lh Also tommy killing that cat was nothing compared to dream killing mushroom henry in exile btw just wanna say Also for ur posts about dreams trauma or wilbur manipulating him can u provide links to vods or other proof? Srry if i seem rude i mean that in a "genuinely curious way"

Aaa sorry if my ask came off as rude im just genuinely curious :(((

hi! dw, you don't seem rude at all, and i'm extremely happy someone with a different perspective has found my blog! i really appreciate that sort of attitude and am happy to answer :]

/dsmp /rp

the cat was called pussboy by tommy, but dream only called it "the cat" and then said that "it was hope", which is why it sort of became a symbol (his hope is dead, basically) - that's why i kind of made its name capitalized, because it was more of a metaphor than anything.

most c!dream fans call the cat hope because it's just really nice and really symbolic, and also really sad when you think about it. that's why the name was used in the essay, just to clear up the confusion!

tommy killing that cat was nothing compared to dream killing mushroom henry in exile

i don't really think so? mooshroom henry was entertainment more than anything, and even if it was bad, when watching the stream i don't remember seeing him mourn that much - on the other hand, dream was very quickly and very obviously attached to the cat, with it being his only companion in months of isolation, along with the hope that even when tommy left it would keep him company.

keep in mind c!dream has been deprived of stimuli and human contact for so long it's officially classified as psychological torture at that point.

i don't mean to compare trauma or even compare deaths - because honestly, what c!dream and c!tommy have gone through individually is incomparable and i think neither should be diminished in favor of the other since they're both terrible situations.

that's why i disagree that it "was nothing compared to" - it had an obvious effect on c!dream, and was still c!tommy killing an animal specifically to hurt him, no matter what reasons he had.

when i'm talking about effects people's actions have had on c!dream, i'm not talking about those people. i'm talking about him. :) /lh

as for the trauma, a lot of people agree that a lot of the things he says or does are trauma responses, and hence it's very possible that he's had trauma before he went into prison!

this includes being repeatedly called a tyrant via propaganda by about half of your friends who decided to betray you, trying to keep peace and being pushed deeper into villainy instead, repeatedly being put in between a rock and a hard place in order to make sure the people you care about don't start killing each other, then being betrayed by your closest friends after merely trying to keep peace (sapnap & george) and just in general having no control over your life or image and grasping at straws to gain it back.

i know a lot of people with trauma who heavily relate to certain trauma responses, which aren't always just shaky breaths and flashbacks, but trauma often also manifests itself in extremely ugly and destructive ways, both inwardly and outwardly.

trying to control the people around you is also very often a response to going through trauma, as well as emotional repression which is... rather evident on c!dream during season two. it only seems to get worse with repeated abandonment.

in the end, during the vault scene, the way he acts really just isn't at all the way a healthy person would act, and a lot of his really bad mindsets come from the way he was taught by the world around him.

the character is very reserved however, and since we don't have his pov we can't really say for certain - a lot of people claim it in good faith because they have a lot of evidence for it, and i think they're certainly valid in that.

that is just before the prison, however. from what happened during the prison arc? there is no denying he's traumatized at this point.

he's been emotionally and physically abused by c!sam since the very beginning of being imprisoned, and being in solitary confinement for over two weeks is generally considered psychological (and maybe also physical?) torture. that alone shows up in a lot of symptoms of his mental deterioration while in pandora's during people's visits, and quackity's "sessions" just absolutely drove the point home.

what he's gone through during this arc is absolutely incomparable to anything others charactes have faced before, and it's just plain suffering being endured by someone who is, despite everything, still a human being.

as for the wilbur manipulation thing!! it's talking about the whole vassal scene (though even beforehand a lot of their interactions are pretty iffy), and here's a post about that :]

I also have a small question about the analysis u last reblogged cus it says "why dream needed lmanburg gone rightfully" and like. The house analogy is poor because for one cus the land is infinite. And 2 cus punz's yard was literally larger then lmanburg. And also stuff about dream being a mediator? Can u provide examples?

i wouldn't say it was poor. dream's said a lot of times that he didn't care in the slightest about the land - a lot of his problems with l'manberg arose with the fact that wilbur basically built it on lies and tried to disallow half of the server to come there. c!dream was mad about the division and the fact that wilbur wanted "freedom" to have authority in his lands - over others, as can be seen in this post also.

the table analogy was fitting not because dream was some overlord, but because these were literally friends he invited to hang out and live in a place he wanted to call home. claiming a part of it for yourself and saying people of a certain nationality can't come in is directly opposing those goals.

in the early days of the smp, dream's always been a mediator between his friends - sapnap and george, who would often get into fights and go around killing each other! he would always do his best to stop the conflict, which continued after tommy joined when he took him to court and then later tried to mediate conflicts he was a part of, which resulted in tommy killing him unprovoked, stealing his gear, and starting the disc wars when dream was trying to get his stuff back. later, during pogtopia, he is also most concerned with peace over everything, and this seems to continue indefinitely after.

Today i was thinking about how messed up the final control room was. Like. Dream arranged the betrayal and punz and sapnap killed tommy and tubbo who like. Were literal children and their pals (because the author, wilbur soot, is dead/j but srsly if u take the streamers words tommy said he was 9 during the revolution sooo)

Sorry im gonna ramble about how dumb canon ages are for a second cus like. Streamers can say the characters are one way or another (wilbur saying he is mentally 30-something, etc.) But in the end the characters act like they(or at least their streaming personas) do.

i... honestly don't find it that bad? they were in a war, and the final control room was basically just supposed to end it quicker. the l'manbergians made it clear they were going to fight to the death, so they really left c!dream no other choice. and it's not like he didn't give them chances to give up.

also yeah the 9 year old thing was retconned, because in that case c!dream would've been 14 and i don't think that's true.

c!tommy and c!dream were both young and once again, in a war. the final control room was an attempt to assure victory, which both sides would've taken if possible, but only c!dream saw he had the option.

i do agree the whole child soldier thing was bad but... complain about that to c!wilbur, methinks. he talked naive kids into fighting for his personal power. however, the age argument isn't really valid either way. they had enough agency to sign up for it, and whether or not c!wilbur pushing the intense nationalism onto them had something to do with that is another debate entirely.

Bacl to final control room cus like??? Also fun fact punz took 2 of wilbur's canon lives. And like that probably is what started wilbur's paranoia which later lead to his spiral and i. Many thoughts full of lmanburg today.

i'm pretty sure cc!wilbur said what lead to c!wilbur's spiral was a "dark, twister view of possessions" and "disregard for his fellow citizen whom he claimed to love so much", but i really wouldn't say it was the control room; if anything the sudden loss of power after the elections seems to me like the trigger for his spiral.

I watched the exile arc live and. I feel dirty almost for feeling little to no sympathy for c!dream (srry ive been forgetting to add that aa) because of his actions toward c!tommy and like. The whole probation was so humiliating and unfair and c!dream was planning to frame him for the crimes he and puffy did under the the guise of "pranks" and c!quackity was planning to seize the vice president role.

i mean... to be fair, if you didn't watch the prison arc much yet or only watch tommy's perspective i understand not feeling that sympathetic - however, i encourage you to maybe watch a few prison visits, since they could help you see the whole picture better!

i also watched it live, and i also thought it was terrible, but i share very much the same sentiment for the prison arc because. absolutely no one should have to go through either of those things, you know?

i don't think probation was that humiliating? he was just. being asked to not start conflict with the other factions for two weeks. of course, what happened as a result is in no way justified, but i don't think probation itself would've been bad at all. either way yeah the framing and c!quackity's behaviour was. very yikes, i agree.

Also c!tommy antis are dumb because they say "he deserved exile angry emoji" i dont see u saying that about ranboo. Just say you hate cc!tommy and go. Also people say c!tommy was just as toxic to c!dream and i??? No. One is the victim and one is the abuser and like. :/// man. This part is rambly srry

i wouldn't say they hate cc!tommy? cc!tommy has a persona who people think is annoying at first ( but then they subscribe because he is super entertaining big man! ) but a lot of c!tommy's actions are straight up toxic to certain characters, such as c!funndy and c!jack. he has a very dismissive attitude towards others and their trauma and it does affect the people around them very negatively.

examples; his repeated bullying and behavior towards fundy:

Tommy: “Fundy, I’m just here to kinda let you know that I – if you weren’t Wilbur’s son, you would be out of L’manburg, alright? Just remember – you need to keep that relationship with your father. I saw how asshole-y and bratty you were acting in the courtroom the other night. You need to pull your shit together young man.”

......

Fundy: “I’m wearing glasses…are you making fun of my eyesight?!”

Tommy: “Yes.”

Sapnap: “Your father would be very disappointed.”

Fundy: “Wh – disappointed for wearing glasses?!”

Tommy: “You got glasses, like what are you wearing…”

Fundy: “What do you mean?”

Tommy: “Sapnap, Sapnap, over here. Fundy, Fundy, Fundy, I’m really sorry to say this – I’m just here to publicly denounce you.”

Fundy: “…What?”

( credit for transcript: @/findingjoynweirdstuff )

he's also responsible for a big chunk of c!jack's trauma, both with actions and words, and that's why i think certain people might dislike the character, and i don't think that's wrong of them. anyone can dislike any character they want if they don't attack people for liking them, in my opinion.

also c!tommy was most definitely toxic against c!dream in the cell. it's of course understandable but that doesn't change the fact he was constantly hitting and insulting him (without dream doing anything back for a long while until he snapped) which is toxic behaviour.

i wouldn't say he was "just as" though, so i agree with you on that. they're different and they behave differently.

i made a dream blob keychain today. Is it possible to send images if u wanna see? Idk cus i havent used tumblr before. I think that's all for now. Thx for letting me talk :D peepoShy -curious anon (but fr a connoreatspants c!dream redemption arc would be cool)

yooo that's cool! i don't really,,, know if it's possible to send images? try it out and if it isn't i'll try find a way to turn it on.

also, no problem! just please remember this is a c!dream sympathetic blog, and me as well as my followers are uhh,, oftentimes emotionally attached / personally relate to the character, so if you could avoid sending hate on the character (not that you have or that i expect you to, just a friendly reminder) in the asks that would be great! we already see a lot of it unwillingly so, i'd rather not see more, but as long as the discussion is civil i'm absolutely ok with you asking more and with me answering more questions if you'd want to! :)

if anyone else would like to reblog this and add some things i might've missed with my answers, feel free to, just go easy on her (she uses she/her pronouns!) and keep it factual.

i hope u had a good or at least ok time at school today :D

thanks! i gtg now because exam tomorrow but i'm going to try write the redemption essay tomorrow as well because ohhh boy i have a lot of ideas about what all i could write around the concept.

also sorry this was long, i can't keep my tongue on the leash :[

#c!tommy critical #c!wilbur critical #my asks #curious anon #long post #history #tw torture #tw manipulation

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