#i am afraid i will let this sadness cradle me to death

[dysphoresque]

Kris Kidd // Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar // Louis-Ferdinand Céline, Journey to the End of the Night

[hopelessromantic5]

Merlin had been working for Arthur Pendragon for a year when something unusually strange happened.

This wasn’t “life-or-death-vengeful-magical-creature” strange. That happens every day.

No this oddity didn’t even involve Arthur.

The pompous prick had just left in storm of rage because Merlin was once again gone for days at a time and couldn’t give him a good enough answer as to where. Arthur knew Merlin was lying to him, and it was only a matter of time before the truth came to light, and Merlin’s life would be over.

He was still in Arthur’s chambers, in complete darkness. Body folded into a corner, with his arms wrapped around his knees that were being cradled by his chest.

He was sobbing.

Because life was so fucking unfair and he’s allowed to have a pity-party every once in a while. Merlin would say he’s entitled.

His sobs broke off into silence when a single candle lit itself, barely illuminating the room.

Merlin’s head popped up, wide eyed.

There was no one else. Just him.

And that had not been his magic.

Merlin was on his feet and ready for whatever was being hurled their way, this time.

They appeared, out of thin air.

Or she did.

A woman. With blonde hair cascading over over her thin shoulders. A deep green gown, that was beautiful but not embellished or bejeweled. And her eyes were like lakes, blue and too deep to see to the bottom.

Merlin’s breath was snatched from his throat as they stared at each other.

“Do not be afraid. I am not here to harm you.” She said, her voice was soft and melodic, the way Merlin imagined goddesses would speak.

“Who are you?” He whispered, before correcting. “What are you?”

“You can sense that I am not human?”

Merlin nodded, then narrowed his eyes, trying to put it together, but not quite having all the pieces.

“Every living thing gives off a vibration of sorts…a frequency… you give off nothing. As if you’re-“

“A ghost.” She smiled small but it held a secret joke that Merlin didn’t understand.

“You’re a ghost?” He questioned, further confused. “How are you here? It’s not anywhere near Samhain.”

Then the blonde woman’s eyes turned sad. And she turned to the window looking out at the lightless sky.

“There are some special cases.” She murmured. Then snapped her eyes back to him.

“But that is not why I’m here.”

Merlin’s eyebrows went up in expectation.

The woman’s expression turned to something that Merlin had only ever seen from his mother and Gaius. A sort of pity that’s shrouded in love.

She advanced on him and then settled her hands on his shoulders. Upon closer inspection, he could see the way she wasn’t completely opaque, but he felt her hands as if they were solid, flesh and bone.

“I know who you are, Emrys.”

Merlin practically hissed at the name and began to back away towards the door of the chambers.

“What are you planning to do about it? Tell the king?” Merlin was panicked now. If Uther knew then there would be no chance of saving himself. Or of saving Arthur.

“Calm yourself, dear. That is the last place I would be headed even if I did plan to tell someone.”

Merlin stopped, whispering, consciously aware of the guards that will patrol this corridor at some point soon.

“So why are you here?”

“Because, Merlin, I want to thank you. I want you to know that all that you’ve suffered, all that you’ve sacrificed, has not been in vain.”

What? How could she possibly know…

“I have been here some time, Merlin. Unseen but always watching.” She smiled again. “This was the deal I made. I gladly gave my life if they agreed to let me watch him grow.”

Time froze.

And suddenly everything clicked into place for Merlin.

He audibly gasped.

“You…” he started shaking his head as if it were a hallucination brought by bad wine or mysterious herbs. “You’re her.”

He stared back into those eyes.

Those eyes he’d come to know on a different human. Eyes he’d come to love.

“Yes. I am. And I have been here with him, watching him struggle and learn. Make mistakes.”

She clutched him again by the shoulders.

“Merlin, I want to thank you for taking care of my son.”

He was shaking his head and stuttering incoherently, almost silently, trying to find words to express everything he feels every day.

“You-I-your son is…a great man. And he’s going to be a good King. A kind, just, King.”

She smirked again at him, probably knowing more than he did about everything.

And then her smile turned soft as she replied.

“The Once and Future King.”

Merlin nodded, feeling a little giddy himself at the idea. Arthur sitting atop the throne of Albion and ruling his people in an age of peace, until he turns old and grey. Trusting the next generation to take the reins.

Merlin chuckled a little.

“The gods couldn’t have picked anyone better suited.”

“He will need you, Merlin. Especially in what’s to come. But this is nothing you are not already aware of.” She had a very soft smile, genuine, not one harsh line on her whole face. “I’ve also appeared to you now to say, I think you should be truthful with him.” Merlin’s instincts almost caused him to recoil from her again, but he stilled his body, as she continued. “I see him when you are not here, when he is alone, when he’s with his father. The way that he communicates his feelings are hurtful and he has no clue how to work through them. I am sorry that Uther raised him that way.” Merlin watched transparent tears slide down her pale face. “But you help him. He’s getting better with himself, with others. You are the light in his life, he wants to do better because of you, the way you see him.”

Merlin was crying too. He couldn’t help it.

He didn’t think anyone ever knew what really went on inside this blasted castle, but someone was here, watching him fail and try and try again and succeed sometimes, and keep Arthur and Camelot safe and happy. Someone has been rooting for him the entire time, he was never really alone.

“Hold on. Would he be able to see you?” Merlin whispered cautiously. “Do you want him to?”

“I’m afraid that it’s a little more complicated for people without magic. I was able to appear before you now, because your guard was down while you were crying. Your mental and emotional barriers were lowered and I was allowed to reveal myself. For Arthur and I to talk, I would need a lot of magic and a lot of trust.” She reminded him so much of Arthur in the way she hid her melancholy behind a dazzling smile.

“But that is not the reason I think you should tell him. He might be frustrated at first, but he will be far less angry than he was moments ago. He trusts you and he knows there is something you are not telling him. I think you would both benefit from a little honesty, him just as much as you.” She smirked at the last comment.

Merlin cannot believe that he just got talked into revealing his magic by the Queen of Camelot.

This day is so strange.

Wait-

“What does that mean? What is it that Arthur is keeping from me?” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and thought. He knew almost everything about the man. He could probably paint him blindfolded at this point, with every buckle and button in perfect place. He knew his sense of humor, his daily schedule by heart, he knew everything Arthur thought about everyone, and Arthur knew the same of him…almost.

Except for that one-okay, maybe two things.

Maybe Arthur had an exception also.

“You will have to be vulnerable in order to find the answer to your question.” It almost sounds like a riddle of Kilgarah’s but the Queen’s made a lot more sense to him than the Great Dragon’s usually did.

“When he returns, avoid cornering him in the room. He does not do well with-“ the lady cut herself off for the first time, somehow even ghosts were conflicted in their thoughts. Her face hardened, “Uther used tactics like this to intimidate Arthur when he was a boy being scolded. For absolutely nothing at all. For doing things that boys should be doing!” Her voice reached its loudest volume and she stumbled farther away from him, wide-eyed.

“I am so sorry, Merlin. I have not spoken to anyone in so long. I didn’t not mean to get angry.” Tears welled in her blue, blue eyes.

Merlin could not stand it.

“There is nothing to apologize for. You have every right to be angry. I am angry. Sometimes with destiny, or dragons, or evil unknown forces lurking in the dark. But always at Uther. For treating Arthur that way, like an animal raised for slaughter. And for never realizing how much it scarred him. And for never changing, or apologizing. Never once. He is not even human anymore.”

They stood there, locked into each other, sharing in their grief, in their pain for this boy that they love more than life.

And then they heard footsteps, both parties equally startled for different reasons.

“Good luck, Merlin.” Igraine was smiling softly again, as if it had never left, maybe that is what Arthur does for her. What he does for them both. Bring the color and joy back into the world like a breath of clean air. “You will do well.” She nodded, before starting to disappear, back into the invisible ether of the castle.

Then the door swung open to reveal Arthur, looking almost apologetic, but also scanning the room before landing his eyes back on Merlin.

“Who are you talking to?”

“No one. Myself.” Another lie. Shit.

This isn’t going well and he’s three words into it.

The prince opened his mouth as if to retort but Merlin stopped him confidently proclaiming,

“Arthur, I need to tell you something.” It was as though Merlin could feel a weight physically lifting off his shoulders as soon as the words left his mouth. “Quite a few things actually. I have not been honest with you. But I don’t want to keep secrets anymore.”

Arthur stood momentarily speechless, surprised at Merlin’s change of heart.

TBC…

[thebat-musicman]

The Playlist™

My 12 hour Batfam playlist (with repeating songs!)

The repeating version has 200 songs and is 12 hours. Non repeating has 167 songs and is 9 hours and 54 minutes.

I am so sorry to whatever poor souls are reading this just trying to find good songs for their faves

@batfambrainrotbeloved it’s done

The bat-playlist from hell is under the cut

Alfred

Be our guest

Let it be

Sweet caroline

You are my sunshine

God is really real

Istanbul (not Constantinople)

50 ways to say goodbye (him faking Bruce’s death when he went training)

What was I made for

No time to die

James Bond theme

I got you

Child of Mine

Little Lion man

You’ll be in my heart

Never grow up

Edelweiss

Baby mine

Friend like me

My heart will go on

Bruce

Never grow up

Everything has changed

I hate it here

I look in people’s windows

imgonnagetyouback

Karma (AJR)

Humpty Dumpty

Inertia

Two birds

Cat’s in the cradle

Song for Orphans

Tears in heaven

Heart of stone

Robin

Whatever it takes

ocean eyes

Migraine

I’ll make a man out of you

Under the Sea

Beautiful Boy (darling boy)

Babs

The story of us

Just a girl

Clara Bow

Role Models

Break my face

The DJ is crying for help

Little miss perfect

She used to be mine

Mastermind

Pretty distraction

So high school

How did it end

Fight song

You should see me in a crown

The man

Runs the world (girls)

I bet you think about me

Inertia

Ours

Part of your world

Dick

I can do it with a broken heart

Touchy feely fool

Never grow up

The Bolter

Surface Pressure

You’re on your own, kid

Because of you

Karma (AJR)

Way less sad

Perfect (simple plan)

Father of mine

This is me trying

Count on me

The Greatest Show

No way

Mr. Perfectly fine

Dancing Queen

Show and Tell

How far I’ll go

Used to be young

Cass

Who’s afraid of little old me

Cassandra

The Albatross

Father of mine

You’re on your own, kid

Heart of stone

Fight song

Everybody wants to rule the world

She used to be mine

Family Line

Because of you

Roar

You should see me in a crown

I won’t

When will my life begin

The prophecy

I hate it here

Speechless

I’ve got a dream

Blackbird

Jason

The Prophecy

Mr. Perfectly fine

Better than Revenge

I did something bad

My tears ricochet

Vigilante shit

You’re gonna go far, kid

Time of dying

Deja vu

good 4 u

Because of you

Father of mine

These boots were made for walking

Fuck you

One way or another

Bang! Pow! Boom!

Be prepared

One jump ahead

Vampire

I think I’m gonna like it here (baby jason needs a song)

Steph

Record Player

Turning out Pt. II

The Dumb Song

Just a girl

Cardigan

The Man

But daddy I love him

the manuscript

Guilty as Sin?

Father of mine

Dead!

Teenagers

You’re on your own, kid

Mr. Perfectly Fine

High school sweethearts

Drama Club

My Play

Devil Town

This is love (air traffic controller)

I won’t say (I’m in love)

Tim

Ur gonna wish u believed me

Yes I’m a mess

Karma (AJR)

Mastermind

Don’t blame me

Fool

Wow, I’m not crazy

Humpty Dumpty

Good 4 u

Pretender (Acoustic)

Mister Cellophane

Come hang out

Let the games begin

Heart of stone

brutal

Deja vu

Every breath you take

The sound of silence

Go the distance

Viva La Vida

Duke

Here comes the sun

Walking on sunshine

I see the light

How do I say goodbye

The Prophecy

Turning out

Sunshine lollipops and rainbows

Teenagers

Our song

Demons

I’m still standing

Waiting on a miracle

I’m not famous

Paper rings

We didn’t start the fire

Everybody dies

What was I made for

I’ll follow the sun

Sunflower

Into the Unknown

Damian

Insane

Oh no!

Surface Pressure

Control

The good part

Role models

Mother knows best

Bad guy

What else can I do

Devil Town

Bones

Rät

Maniac

Losing my religion

(Don’t fear) The Reaper

Heathens

Pumped up kicks

Go the distance

A whole new world

I just can’t wait to be king

[petalmadness]

If its you.

Tartaglia x reader

Warnings: angst, character death, slight gore.

Overview: Reader is also one of the harbingers, instructed to kill Childe after he betrayed the Tsarita.

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader <3

The snow surrounding you had never felt so cold in your life. It scratched and bit at your skin as you gripped the handle of your blade tightly. Shallow breathes slipped past your lips as you stared down at your lover beneath you.

His eyes locked with yours as he sent you a smile. However it didn't quite reach his eyes, and the corners of his eyes didn't quite crinkle into crescent moons like they usually did when he shot you his signature smirk.

This smile, was filled with pain, sadness, anger, regret and most of all guilt.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you held the blade up to his neck, pursing your lips to prevent the heart-wrenching sob that threatened to leave your throat.

"Thats it love, dont be afraid. I promise I dont blame you and I certainly don't hate you. Nothing in this world could ever make me hate you, not even dying by your blade." His words only made your heart hurt more as you slowly lifted the sword up above your head, ready to end him right then and there.

It was your duty after all, he had betrayed the Tsaritsa and abandoned his position as the 11th harbinger. You were instructed to track him down and put an end to him before he exposed any of the fatuis secrets, and simply for betraying the tsaritsa.

But why? Why did you have to be the one to end his life? To kill the man you vowed your entire existence to?

You cursed at Celestia for being so cruel.

But just as you were about to swing down, you caught glimpse of his tears and his forced smile which only made you break down into violent sobs.

You collapsed onto your knees and sobbed, your sword dropping to your side as you were cradled slowly by your lover.

"I'm sorry... I can't do it..." You cried into his arms as you gripped his uniform tightly, scared to let go of him.

"You have to my love, or they'll come after you too..." He whispered into your ear as he let his own tears slip.

"Who cares if they come for us?! We can fight them off! Our combined strength is no match for them! I just-" You were cut off by your lover locking your lips together into a gentle kiss.

He poured all of his love into that kiss as he knew it would be his last. He felt your skin for the last time and stared into your eyes with admiration. He tasted your lips for the last time and cherished the sound of your voice.

After pulling away he leaned his forehead against yours, gently cupping your face as the snow around you both seemed to get colder.

"I would rather suffer this fate then put you in such danger." He whispered, watching as your sobs worsened as you gripped his sleeves tightly.

"Look after my siblings for me, remind them just how much I love them everyday okay? And look after yourself too. The world is a scary place and I won't be here to protect you anymore, so please, don't push yourself." He picked up your sword and placed it back in your shaky grasp.

"Why...? Why must you make me do this...?" You cried as he helped you to your feet, standing back as he braced for your attack.

"Because if you don't do it, her majesty will send someone else to kill me, and that would be a much more unfortunate fate for me...," He sent you one last smile, "but if its by you...I am more then happy to meet my end."

Your shaky hands gripped your blade as he kneeled infront of you. His smile still adorning his face as you slowly lifted the sword back up.

You took in his features so that you would never forget the man you had loved for your whole life.

"I love you." He whispered into the cold air as he closed his eyes.

"Till we meet again, my love." He choked out before you swung your sword down, dealing a clean blow to his neck. Killing him swiftly.

Your hands shook as you dropped the sword and collapsed, cradling your lovers cold body in your arms as you screamed out to Celestia.

Gut wrenching screams echoed through the valleys of Snezhnaya, snow falling from the sky as the world caved in around the two lovers.

You would forever remember him.

Ajax.

The man who met his fate in the fields of his own homeland.

Note: This is unedited and kinda crappy but I hope you enjoyed it. This will be a common theme throughout my page, killing off my favourite characters and making you read about it. Yeehaw.

[scuttle-buttle]

WC: 2261

Rated: M

Tags: angst, medical issues, pregnancy complications, hurt/comfort, anxiety, brief mentions of medical procedures but no gore, nothing is technically sad, fluff, papa laszloooo

A/N: honestly tho I am sorry. also i maybe cried a little writing this, which is a first. also also everybody is fine in this it's just emotional

Blame @hardlyinteresting

🧠

"Three weeks…. Three weeks little bean…" you mumble as you rub your protruding stomach after a particularly harsh kick to your ribs. The chair was a sweet relief to your ankles after a long day at work and doing some light chores around the house all afternoon. You had three weeks until you hit 39 weeks into your pregnancy. As much as you were anxious you were ready. Ready to not feel like a bloated whale. Ready to not have sore feet. But most of all, ready to hold your baby girl.

Laszlo had been trying to convince you to take it easy and start maternity leave early, but you resisted. The last thing you were about to do is nothing. Most first pregnancies went late anyway, you'd argued, so you didn't worry about it yet. I’m pregnant, not dying - give me another week, you'd told him.

What you didn't tell him was about the headaches. Or how sore your legs were. Or how absolutely exhausted you'd been feeling the last couple weeks. Whenever he would ask if you were alright or offer a foot rub you would just brush it off as third trimester woes. You didn't want to worry him.

You were sat in an armchair in the parlor, feet propped up, damp rag over your eyes. The droning from the tv had your nerves on edge. All you wanted to do was take some tylenol and feel better, but you had been knocking back more than was probably safe the last few days so you went without.

A sudden pain shoots through you causing the rag to fall onto your chest. “Ohh...ow? OW!” You sit up straighter as the ache persists; the dull throbbing in your upper abdomen unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Were you in labor early? Did she just kick in a bad spot? No no - surely the pain would’ve died down by now had that been the case. Unless? Can babies kick so hard they rupture something? Did my kid just bust my liver? Your thoughts run rampant as you wait, in vain, for the pain to go away. The pricking behind your eyes and in your temples only made it more hellish. Pressing your palm to the spot does nothing, nor do the breathing exercises you had been taught.

When five minutes have passed by without relief you make the choice to call out for your husband. “Laz?” No response. “Laszlo!” A beat passes; nothing. You swallow through your building nausea.

“I swear to fucking-” you growl as you snatch your phone from the end table to your left. You use all your concentration to dial his number.

It rings four times.

“Bärchen, why are you call-”

You don’t let him finish. “Something’s wrong.”

______

Head thrown back into the flat, starchy hospital pillow you groan in frustration. “permanent bedrest?” You scrub the hand not clutching your belly down your face.

The emergency room Obstetrician gives you a pitying look. “I’m afraid so - your blood pressure is high and we want to keep it under control to prevent outcomes such as pre-eclampsia. I recommend doing as little as absolutely possible; get rid of as many stressors as you can.” He flips through your chart. “You said you’ve been having headaches and fatigue for nearly two weeks? Why didn’t you come in sooner?”

Huffing, you tell him “I thought it was just part of the third trimester. Everyone always complains about how bad it is.” He hums in response.

“Well. I’m going to go take a final look at your labs, make sure everything else is fine before we discharge you. I’ll send in my Nurse Practitioner to give you the run down and anything else you’ll need to know. And should anything else like this happen again - get in here immediately.” He pats you awkwardly on the hand before nodding at Laszlo and leaving the room.

Laszlo.

Sparing a glance from the corner of your eye you see him looking towards his lap, his weaker hand cradled in the other. He’d been quiet since you admitted when your symptoms had first begun. Every single time he’d asked you how you were feeling you had lied to him. Granted, you didn’t technically know you were lying. But it makes little difference when you’re sitting in the ER. He had every reason to be upset.

“Laszlo honey,” you reach over to him. Slowly he takes your proferred hand and stands, coming to stop beside the bulky bed frame. His thumb caresses your wrist.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve examined the signs, kept a better eye on you.”

“Laz-”

“-No-”

“-I didn’t want to worry you, okay?-” Your voice breaks as you defend yourself.

“-I could’ve done something, maybe- I don't know!” His slightly raised voice startles you quiet. The pain in his eyes only makes you feel guiltier. He licks his lips. “I took the liberty of calling your mother. She will be here tomorrow afternoon and will be staying in the guest room as long as we need her.”

Now you look away, indignant. “I don’t need to be watched like I’m a child.” The tears behind your eyelids rush in; a lone drop trailing down your cheek as the embarrassment settles within your gut. You knew that at some point it was likely you would need her here. However you imagined it to be under happier circumstances. A deep inhale fails to calm your sobs. “I just- I don’t want to be a burden with all this.” Your tears flow freely now.

“My dear you could never be.” Laszlo sits on the edge of the bed. He rests his right palm above the swell of your child, his left cupping along the curve of your jaw. He tilts you to face him. “But the health of you and our girl is what is most crucial now. Let us take care of you. Please.”

A gentle kick underneath his palm from your daughter is answer enough.

__________

Two weeks. 14 days.

Lying in bed, sitting in the same spot for hours on end was actually going to be the death of you. You were sure of it.

Your mother truly has been a huge help since arriving. Laszlo wanted to start his paternity leave, but you insisted that he stay until you were closer to your due date. Which couldn’t come fast enough, you might add. Both Laszlo and your mother were prone to pestering you about some things, but at other times if you truly wanted to be alone they gave you your space. Now was one of those times. Laptop to your side, you watch another episode of Grey’s Anatomy. A knock sounds. You turn to see your husband standing in the doorway, the blood pressure monitor in arm.

He gives you a bright smile. “How are you two on this fine afternoon?”

“Cut it with the attitude, bucko. Let’s get this over with.” The words, while harsh, had little bite to them. His brow raises but he says nothing. You honestly felt bad that you’d been in a pretty foul mood since being discharged. On more than one occasion you’d said as much to Laszlo and your mother - they didn’t deserve your ire. Thankfully they understood why you were so frustrated.

You held the strap in place as he secured the velcro and started the machine. Buzzing filled the overall quiet room. Closed eyes you wait. Some days your results were higher than others. Unless you became higher than a certain threshold the doctor said you were safe to be home. At the sound of a beep Laszlo unhooks the cuff, reporting that your levels are within the acceptable range. When he goes to leave you alone you clutch at his sleeve. He waits as you peer up at him. “Stay?”

He never could say no to you.

______

Little bean’s ruthless treatment of your bladder had you up for the second time that night. You waddled to the bathroom to attend to your business and wash your hands. Glancing at the circles under your eyes in the mirror you sigh. “I love you baby bean but you’re giving me a run for my money here, kid,” you whisper as you rub your stomach. Three days, you remind yourself.

The floor creaks as you shuffle back to bed. Suddenly, an odd warm trickling sensation travels down your legs. “What the fuck?” Looking down around your bulging bump you find yourself standing in a small puddle, the glint of the bathroom night light reflecting off the surface. “Shit okay…ah Laszlo? Hey, I need you to wake up.”

He grumbles. With a roll of your eyes you walk over and shake him awake. “Hey- what-” he sits up instantly and blinks at you. “Is everything alright?”

“My water broke.”

He hops into action right away. Moving you to sit on the bed, he pulls out his cell phone to call your doctor. As he talks you watch him move around the room, the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, as he collects your hospital supplies. You feel useless as you sit. Yet, you know that your priority needs to be keeping yourself calm and that moving around could exacerbate your condition.

He hangs up. Coming to stand in front of you he presses a kiss to your forehead; “I’ll go wake your mother. Don’t move, Liebling.”

As you sit you blow out a long breath. You look down at your bump. “Guess you decided you’re ready to go, huh kid?” The tip of your fingers brush along the side of your stomach. “I know we’re ready for you too. We’re going to love you so much, and your daddy? He’s gonna be the best, you’ll see.” Placing your palms flat she nudges you from within.

_____

The doctors decided that a c-section was the safest route. You both knew it was a possibility, but you had hoped that after weeks of bedrest that your blood pressure would balance out enough for a natural delivery. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. They monitored you for an hour before your contractions began, officially confirming you were in fact in active labor and dilating. After the fourth hour your blood pressure began to spike again. That’s when they decided to prep you for the procedure.

The operation went smoothly. The atmosphere of the surgical suite was tense with your nerves, but Laszlo’s calming words and his hand squeezing yours kept the anxiety from spilling over. You even found it in you to poke fun at how ridiculous he looked in the puffy blue elastic hair cap he wore.

When the first cries rang out you nearly tried to hop off the table to see your baby. The doctors worked quickly to ensure you were in proper condition while the infant was cleaned.

“Dad? Would you like to come and cut the cord?” one of the nurses calls out.

Laszlo looks back at them before turning to face you. He searches your eyes for a moment; “go,” you nod with a smile. You watch as he did what the nurses instructed as best you could, her soft wails echoing in the small room. He returns to you right after while they finish wrapping her up in a blanket.

“She’s beautiful my dear,” your professor confesses. He leans to give you a lingering kiss. “I’m so unbelievably proud of you.”

“I love you so much.”

“As I love you.”

The doctor interrupts your moment. “Would you like to hold your baby girl?” The question is directed at you, but you look over to your husband. The man you love more than life itself. He stares at the little bundle as if she’s the most incredible sight he’s ever laid eyes on. He can’t take his gaze off her. His irises sparkle with unshed tears as he looks on with wonder.

“Laz?” Finally he breaks away. “Hold your little girl - she’s been waiting to meet her Papa.”

Carefully the doctor shifts his hold on the babe to slide her into Laszlo’s waiting arm. He swallows as he pulls her to his chest. Something caught between a sob and a laugh leaves him. You blink through your own tears at the sight of your husband and daughter, a sight so far beyond perfect there could be no words. Laszlo held her with such delicacy, such reverence. It was as if any moment she could slip away as though a dream.

“Hello there my little dove, I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet you.” He doesn’t bother to wipe away the streams that fall from his eyes. “I’m your Papa and I-” he sniffs, looking towards the ceiling and blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. You rest your hand on his bicep. “I love you so very much. I would give you the world if I could. Your grandfather didn’t...he was not....” he pauses to gather himself. “To me you are the greatest gift I could ever receive. I will be the best father I can for you. A father worthy of you. Mein Gott, Ich liebe dich my darling dove.”

He continued to hold her in his arms until it was time to take you into the recovery room. When he had asked if you wanted her you simply shook your head. You would get your chance, you had a lifetime to do so. But your Laszlo needed this. He needed his little dove.

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[squeak-the-cat18]

Since im bored and have nothing else to do : more song quotes!!

(Tw because most of these are sad/depressing)

(Also none belong to me credit goes to the respective artist)

I'm drowning in your memory but it is all that I have left

Don't tell me if I'm dying, cause I don't want to know.

Do you care about all the little things, or anything at all?

I wanna sunburn just to know I'm that I'm alive

If I can't see the sun maybe I should go.

Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming of angels on the moon.

Did you know that every day is the first of the rest of your life

This is to one last day in the shadows and to know a brothers love

Tell me all your thoughts about the stars that fill polluted skys

How did you love?

It was almost love, when I heard that sound and the walls came down I was thinking about you.

Its not what you believe, those prayers will make you bleed

Time will take us all and turn us into stone

Her hands tell the story of hardships that we'll never know

How did you love?

How we forget ourselves from the cradle to the grave

We are the judge and jury

I drove for miles just to find you and myself

Its not your fault im a bitch, I'm a monster

Sure as the sunrise shes seen things you'll never see

I can't let her go.

Please don't go most nights i hardly sleep when I'm alone

I think of you whenever I'm alone

Would anyone care? would anyone cry if I finally stepped of the ledge tonight?

Would anything change? Would you all be just fine? cause I need a reason to not throw the fight

It just might save my life.

Home, a place where i can go and take this off my shoulders.

I wont to lie so hard to hide I've never felt worthy of love, I would give up everything I had just to feel good enough.

Someone take me home.

Tell me why the world never fights fair

Shes still here fighting, better know there's life in her yet

Tell me how all my dreams turned to nightmares, how did I loose it  when I was right there

Just to get to a place where even though there's no closer,  I'm still safe

I found no cure for the loneliness, I found no cure for the sickness.

I'm 11 minutes away so why arent you here?

Would anyone notice if tonight I disappeared? Would anyone chase me, and say the words i need to hear that im no burden, not so worthless

I would sell my soul for a bit more time

You swear to god but I'm a nonbeliever

So tell me when it kicks in

This is how it ends, I can feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream

Would anyone want me if they knew what was inside my head?

No no don't leave me lonely now, if you love me how'd you never learn

All the voices in my mind calling out across the line

Your losing faith while I've been holding on.

It leaves us with regrets and picks apart the threads of over fragile bones.

Tell me pretty lies, look me in the face tell me that you love me even if its fake

We were blessed by the breath deep inside of us

Give me the strength to look the devil in the face and make it home safe

Playing dead I'll never do, gotta keep an eye on you

Promises broken again

Would anyone see me for the person I really am?

Take a hit shoot me down I will never hit the ground

Put an X on my chest, but I'm still standing cause I wont forget all the hell you put me through, I'll save myself in spite of you

This time I wont let go

When you go down all your darkest roads, I would have followed all the way to the graveyard

I keep digging myself down deeper, I wont stop til I get where you are

Trying to find the root of all that's come between us

White flag, never going up no no

Don't you know I'm aint afraid to shed a little blood

Id rather die than give up the fight

You look at me with eyes so dark I don't know how you even see

I'm good, I'm good, I'm great.

Ain't that my blue in her eyes?

Where everyone you know never leaves too soon

Too many years of battle scares and now we're broken

But while your on your knees how did you love?

Don't take her from me

Don't wanna see her grow to be just like you

But it only feeds my energy

I'm chasing dragons, this dragon's got my hand

Sweet love, my oldest friend, have we come to the bitter end

This time don't you save me, baby I can feel myself giving up

But I dont see so easily what you hold in your hands.

Pray for my soul

Those eyes tell nothing of a soul that is spent, a soul that's longing for death

[phoenixyfriend]

#9 “Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.” with Obi-Wan & Jango & Satine? (... or Obi-Wan/Jango/Satine, I'm not picky)

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts

Oh, I'm going to make this deeply stupid and AU because I got struck by a plot bunny and I'm taking it out on a prompt.

Satine hates the man named Jango Fett.

They've met before, once or twice. He'd known her father, before the latter's assassination. She'd met Jango when she was a child, before he'd lost his people at Galidraan, before she'd lost her sister to a terrorist group and her father to a blaster shot. She'd thought him gruff but kind, at the time, and very sad.

Now, she just wants him to trip on a pipe and brain himself on one of the many rusted, broken beams around them. She won't strangle him herself, won't turn her back on her oaths and commit violence, but she's not too proud to hope for an accident.

"Pick up the pace, princess."

"I am a Duchess," she snaps, lifting her skirts to step delicately over something that might have been machinery at one point.

The only light they have is from his helmet, and the only reason she hasn't fallen from the fabric catching on some matter or other is that he has a sense for when she gets caught.

He'd suggested that she pull the skirts up to gird her loins, and then found that the numerous layers made it impossible. He'd offered to cut the skirt down to something more manageable, without depriving her of the coverage she still needed in the cold of these darks, dank ruins. He'd then found that the vibroblade did nothing against the skirts.

(She was a pacifist, not stupid. Of course her clothing was reinforced.)

"I don't care," he says back through grit teeth. She's not sure why he hasn't just left her for dead, but she's not going to complain. Much. "Just move."

They've been making their way through the ruins for hours. They still don't know how they got here. They have no way to find out.

They just head up, and hope it gets them somewhere.

(Signs litter the walls, all in a script unfamiliar to them. Archaic, or simply foreign, they don't know.)

"Wait."

She freezes.

Fett moves behind her, light shifting with the noise of his beskar, and then he says, "I'm going to turn out the light for a second. Give us a minute to adjust to the dark after I do. I think I saw something glowing, but I can't tell with the flash on."

She nods, sure that he can see it, and they are engulfed in the dark again.

It's not for long, because the glow that Fett described is real. Faint, far off down the hallway and a pale blue that winks in and out in multiple spots at once, but there.

"We'll need the light to make it there without you getting rust sickness," Fett mutters. He flicks the headlight back on. "Might get some kinda hint out of it, whatever it is."

"You'd risk it?"

"Don't have any other choice," Fett tells her. "Move out, Princess."

----

They reach the blue glow, entering a large, cavernous atrium, just as dark as the rest of the ruins so far, but much less cramped than the previous hallways.

It is mostly floating motes of something, and the something in question makes Satine's skin crawl. She has no idea what it is. She doesn't think Fett does either, but he's a little busy trying to get a scan of the room around them. Satine can just barely see the floor from the blue light, and she steps closer carefully. Part of her screams about deep sea fish and wild space ancients, creatures that use light to hunt, but they've had nothing else yet. No hints.

This place feels ancient. Perhaps the spirits that linger are even older.

"Kryze!"

"I'm fine," she calls back, deliberately refusing to understand the man's worry. She just... reaches out.

And one of the blue lights comes to her.

Fett swears and comes closer, but Satine pulls her hands to her chest, cradling the little light to herself. It's larger than she'd expected, perhaps the size of a Chandrila plum. It's warm, too.

"You're going to get yourself killed," Fett snaps.

"It's friendly," she says. "I think."

"You think," Fett hisses, the noise crackling through the vocoder. He puts a hand on her shoulder. "Listen--"

The lights coalesce. They are, for the moment, blinding, and Satine flinches away.

Fett has a blaster out before Satine can even open her eyes again. She knows the noise better than she'd like. She can identify which blaster it is by the click of the safety alone.

Any Mandalorian her age can.

"Oh dear," an unfamiliar voice says. "I'm afraid that--well, yes, Mando, hello there. I'm afraid that the blaster won't do much to me. I'm already long dead, you understand."

When Satine manages to blink the spots out of her vision, it's to see a glowing, slightly blue-tinged human figure in clothing that is distinctly Jedi, if very... very outdated.

The man--she thinks it's a man, beards usually indicate such--smiles and waves at her. "I apologize for the light show. It's been quite some time since I've had reason to take a solid form."

"I can imagine," Satine says, her voice weak even to her own ears. The man isn't much older than her, or at least wasn't when he... died? Or perhaps he was elderly when he died, and just rolled his age back as this spirit for some reason.

He smiles kindly, and then looks past her shoulder to Fett. He rolls his eyes, and smirks, and says, "Su cuy'gar, Mand'alor."

"I am not Mand'alor," Fett growls out. "I don't hold that title anymore."

"You do in spirit," the figure claims. "None other can say the same, not yet."

Before Fett can argue further, the man smiles pleasantly, and says, "I don't suppose you could remove yourselves from my shrine? Just a few steps back, thank you."

Satine looks down. She notices the raised platform and carved sigils and the stone column she hadn't seen in the earlier darkness, and flushes. She steps back and down, and Fett does the same.

"Now," the figure says. "As I was saying--"

"What are you?" Fett demands. "Ghost of a Jedi?"

"Something like that," the figure allows. "I was not just a Jedi, but... yes, I'm something you could call a ghost. I'd prefer simply a spirit."

"Like the ka'ra," Satine mutters, and grunts in disagreement.

"Those, Duchess, are only Mandalorians."

"Then I suppose it is fitting that I am both," the spirit says, and his form shifts.

Armor. It does not cover all of him--his pelvis and head are distinctly bare--but the shapes are distinctly Mandalorian. The colors aren't quite exact, with the blue glow he carries about him, but she's fairly certain she's seeing blue, green, and black. Reliability, duty, and justice.

Fitting, for a Jedi. The symbol for the Order is on his pauldron, even, and the hilt of his saber hangs easy at his side.

The gasp that comes through Fett's vocoder is harsh. She can't imagine he likes this.

"You--" he cuts himself off, takes a breath audible even past the helmet, and tries again. "There is no way you are Tarre Vizsla."

"No, I'm afraid not."

"So you must be Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The man smiles and tucks his hands into his sleeves, the swinging of the fabric allowing them the glimpse of vambraces beneath. He ducks his head in a shallow nod. "I am indeed."

Satine feels how empty of blood her own face is. She can't imagine Fett is doing much better.

"This is the Kar'ta-yaim be talyc rang," Fett mutters, horrified in a way that Satine feels her own self echoing. "You..."

"Well, we certainly never called it that," Kenobi says, head tilting faintly. "But I imagine that after the siege... Yes, Temple of Bloodied Ash would certainly reflect our final days."

It was one of the few stories that didn't pit Jedi and Mandalorians against each other, in the histories.

It had been the first attempt to coexist, the warriors of the saber and the warriors of iron. None managed to wed the two philosophies the way Kenobi had, but that hadn't mattered. They'd lived together, in peace. The reports had been clear enough, that there hadn't been weapons storage. There hadn't even been real defensive measures, barring the force fields. The Jedi had refused to let war reach this building, even whilst the Sith still raged across the galaxy. The other temples could handle the atrocities afar. The children, the elderly, the infirm, they were all to find a home here. The only weaponry were the sabers and whatever metals the Mando'ade carried in their armor.

Just a place of peace, a home to research, to children, to hospitals, all slaughtered to the last man, and set ablaze after. Nobody had ever tried such an attempt at peace between Mandalore and Jedi since. The location has been lost for longer than anyone remembers, but...

"Why are we here?" Satine asks.

"I wonder," Kenobi says, seeming far too pleased for the revelations of the last minute. He strokes at his beard, and then turns and sweeps an arm across the air. As he does, a whirring noise surrounds them, stuttered and heavy, but growing in power. Bit by bit, the sections of the wall that he'd gestured at begin to glow.

There are lights set into the wall like circuitry, warm and bright. The generators, which much be centuries old, at the least, continue to run.

"They draw energy from the river in the mountain," Kenobi says, before either of them thinks to ask. "Come along, my dears."

Satine hesitates. So does Fett.

Kenobi turns, presumably noting that their footsteps aren't following him. He smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Satine can't remember how old he supposedly was, at his death. His eyes are much older, but...

"I assure you, it's perfectly safe," he tells them. "The building won't hurt you."

"The building?" Fett asks, sounding perhaps a little more dubious than the situation warranted. They were already talking to a figure of legend.

"Yes, the building," Kenobi repeats, indulgent in a way that Satine would have found irritating if aimed at her, but rather approved of like this. "The walls are already straightening out, I feel. And the droids are going to be clearing out the debris soon enough. The rust will be a little difficult to manage, of course, but..."

"What do you mean the walls are going to straighten out?" Satine asks. "And how... this place has been dead for centuries, hasn't it? How did you wake it?"

"Duchess Kryze, I didn't wake the Temple," Kenobi tells her. She doesn't know how he got her name. "You did."

She doesn't know what to say in response. She stays quiet, and waits for him to elaborate.

"Is it because she woke you up?" Fett asks, clearly unwilling to play a waiting game. "You're a... guardian? The keyholder to the power?"

"Mand'alor," Kenobi says, with a smile playing on his lips behind the carefully-groomed beard, "I am the Temple."

What.

He smiles and starts walking backwards, gliding in a way that makes it clear he doesn't need to step, really, because his feet don't stay planted where he puts them. They have to follow, now, or risk losing him. "My consciousness, my very self, is woven into every bit of this building. I have no flesh, not anymore, but while my sense of self stays coherent in the Force... the Temple is my body."

"How?" Satine demands, hurrying to keep up. She tries to ignore the way the flagstones shift and settle ahead of her, still and level by the time she steps forward. She tries to ignore the grinding of metal, as it's pulled into the walls like it's soup instead of stone. She tries to ignore the creaking of the foundation about them, and stays focused on the pleasant smile of one of the only two Mandalorian Jedi in history that maintained the balance.

"Do your history books carry the name of my apprentice?" Kenobi asks.

"Skywalker," Fett says immediately. "And... Tano, I think, before she changed it. She escaped, didn't she?"

"Yes, she was away at the time," Kenobi says, voice distant for but a moment. Somewhere far off among the tunnels, there is a mighty crash. "I'd fought until I couldn't any more. My armor, what I had of it, protected me from the flames. I'd worn a helmet during the siege, and it filtered the smoke, even as I lay dying from other wounds... between that and the Force, I lasted long enough that Anakin found me. The others had all died of smoke inhalation, if they hadn't succumbed to their injuries or the flames themselves by that point."

"The fire didn't reach you?" Fett questions.

"Mm, no, the alcove I was in was all stone, and there wasn't anything flammable enough nearby to reach," Kenobi says, sounding distant again. "In any case, Anakin found me. He was... distraught. Desperate. Not entirely sane, I think, but with what he walked into, I can't find it in myself to fault him."

"Master Kenobi," Satine finds herself saying. "What did he do?"

Kenobi's smile is sad. She'd call it resigned, really. He's lived--sort of--with this situation for centuries now. It makes sense. "He took my mind, my soul in the Force, and 'saved' it in a way that would leave me tied to the world past my death. It was ingenious, but... I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I don't think Anakin realized what he was doing until long after he'd already succeeded at the impossible."

"He cursed you," Fett declares.

Kenobi shrugs. "I think he expected the temple to be cleaned and re-inhabited again soon enough. It wasn't, as you can see. The generators have been gathering power for centuries, but the fire destroyed most of them, and we didn't have anything in reserve with how much we poured into the shields during the battle. I couldn't fix the ruins, and with the horrors that had occurred, nobody was coming back. Anakin said he would, he promised, but... he disappeared. He visited, and he spoke with me, but a few years in he was simply... lost. I had a connection to his ship's signal, and it winked out in the blink of an eye, and never came back."

Oh. Terrifying.

"For all that I am the Temple, now, there are still secrets here that I don't yet understand," Kenobi tells them. "Your arrival, for one thing. The sediment carried up the mountain has slowly buried the temple over the centuries. There isn't a way in, save for two tunnels leading to the river, both of which I know are untouched."

"We just woke up here," Satine admits.

"Yes," Kenobi says. "You did. And part of me knows why."

"...part?" Fett asks.

It's a fair question to ask of a man who happens to have a brain that is also an entire building, somehow.

"Areas are cut off from my awareness," Kenobi admits freely. "Cave-ins and the like, mostly. There are one or two that I think I cut deliberately, due to what lay within."

Also terrifying, thank you.

"But I do believe I know what happened," he says, with that same damnably soft smile. "You two are the leaders of your people, yes? Tradition on one side, and peace on the other."

Satine shares a glance with Fett, and then turns to Kenobi and nods.

"Then I do believe it's simply the right time," he tells them. "You'll need to work together."

"I don't think so," Satine immediately denies.

"The Force works in mysterious ways," Kenobi tells her. "And if it brought you here--and you couldn't have arrived otherwise, I promise you that--then it was for a reason. Two leaders, the same people, with ideologies that I do believe are possible to bring together into, if not mixing, then at least coexistence."

"Impossible," Fett says. "The New Mandalorians are cowards, Kenobi. To share a culture with them--"

"Is as unlikely as Jedi and the old Mandalorians?" Kenobi asks, smiling so very politely that Satine wonders at how they aren't frozen stiff at the sight of it.

The sigil of the Order gleams mockingly from his pauldron.

Kenobi huffs out a breath, just a shadow of a laugh the slightest duck of his head, and then he turns and waves open a door.

Beyond him, sitting clean and pretty and entirely free of dust on its ancient stand, rests the Darksaber.

Satine stares.

She's sure Fett does, too.

"That can't be real," she says, her mouth moving before she can control it. "The Darksaber is lost, but it's popped up in history too recently to have been here since the fires."

"I saw it in Tor Vizsla's hands less than a years ago," Fett confirms. The vocoder cuts emotion from his voice, but not enough. "This place has been locked tight for centuries. The saber can't be here."

"The same could be said of the two of you," Kenobi points out.

It's true.

Satine steps forward, when it becomes clear that Fett won't. She picks up the weapon, holds it like the antique it is, square and unwieldy, but so very, very old that she cannot deny its importance. Weapon or not, it is her people's history.

She lights it.

The blade burns black.

"Turn it off," Fett rasps, and she does.

Satine looks back at him, and then to Kenobi. She turns fully, and steps forward, and holds it out to Fett.

He looks at her, uncomprehending.

"If you'd like to check for yourself," she says, and her voice is too quiet, but she can't help it. Something is happening, something heavy and broken, and she can't ignore the pressure of the future in this moment.

Fett takes the saber. He looks at it in his hands, and she thinks he is shaking.

"Your people need you, Mand'alor," Kenobi says, and there is no room for question. "They also need the Duchess."

"Why you?" Fett asks, voice strained and shattered in a way Satine can't even begin to pick apart.

"It was either me or Tarre, really," Kenobi says, with an idle shrug unfitting of the situation. "And I'm a little more... accessible, shall we say, to those who aren't sensitive to the Force."

Kenobi steps forward and rests an immaterial hand on Fett's shoulder.

"I already failed my people once," Fett says, barely audible.

"And now you shall save them," Kenobi says. His voice is firm. It is as if there is no question, to him, about whether or not Fett will succeed. "You won't be alone, either."

Satine shifts her weight, refusing to meet Kenobi's eyes. Her hands fist in her dress, and her mind races.

"What do you need of me?" Fett manages.

"...Mand'alor?"

"What do you need of me, Master Kenobi?"

Satine looks up.

Fett... Fett removes his helmet, and looks at Kenobi with an expression that is more desperation than deference.

"To cooperate with those who would follow a different creed," Kenobi says, so low it's practically a murmur. His hand, still intangible, reaches out to cup Fett's jaw. Fett leans into it. "To protect those who cannot do so for themselves. Our people are warriors, Mand'alor, but to refuse violence for violence's sake, after the wars that have killed our home and rendered it little more than glass, that is its own bravery."

"Master--"

"Listen to me," Kenobi says, and Fett falls silent. "You will need to protect them. The Duchess may have the funds and the support to bring forth education, agriculture, childcare, and so on, but there are many who would take advantage of that peace. She provides the home for tradespeople, but you are the shield that keeps them safe."

It could be a balance, Satine tries to tell herself. Maybe.

Kenobi seems so certain of it, and Satine may hate violence, but she is far from unaware of the pirates and warlords that nip at their borders.

"The foundlings need homes," Kenobi continues. "The stories need to be told. The culture is fading, Mand'alor. Bring it back."

His eyes flick to Satine, and she looks away.

(Her pressure was only ever on violence. Her advisors had pressed at the erasure of the rest, but if it meant children grew up without the worry of their parents dying in pointless battle, then wasn't it worth bending?)

(Couldn't she look the other way as they tightened restrictions on even symbolic vambraces, if it meant few too-small bodies in the streets?)

(Her planet was a wasteland. What did culture mean in the face of so many dead?)

(She knows Fett doesn't see it that way, but she is the only governing New Mandalorian with any blood on their hands. She knows the weight of violence, of lives taken by her actions.)

(She knows it, and she rejects it knowingly.)

Fett breathes harshly, and Satine closes her eyes.

"I agree to try," she says. "If we can get out of these ruins and back to our people... I will try. I cannot speak for my people on this, but to instate the old Mandalorians as a planetary guard... it may be doable."

"Little steps, my dear," Kenobi says. He looks down at Fett, who's... not well, it seems. "The Mand'alor needs some help, I think. I'm no trained mind healer, but I imagine I can help. More than most, maybe. There are few who know what it is to be a sole survivor."

He smirks, just a little, at the joke that he is not, in fact, a man who survived.

It's not very funny.

"I'll stay," Fett says. "I'll... I'll learn. Master Kenobi, you... Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me."

"As a student?" Kenobi asks, catching on to just the same thing as Satine has. "Not in the Force, surely, but... you truly wish to stay?"

"There are none left alive that I would trust to show me the way," Fett says. Beseeching, he reaches for Kenobi, and his hands pass through. There's a pain in him that Satine can't quite comprehend, and Fett falls to his knees. "Please."

"You need only ask," Kenobi says. "The Duchess will look after our people until the King takes his throne, and then you will rule together."

They'll have to, Satine tells herself, and steps forward. She puts a hand on Fett's shoulder, and pulls him to his feet.

"Where do we begin?" she asks.

[animatedarchives]

Angsty hcs for Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki's s\o dying in their arms.

author’s note: hi darling!! i love writing angst so i hope this was okay ^^ thank you for requesting :) much love sweetheart <3 enjoy!

S/O DYING IN THEIR ARMS

— 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈, 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎, 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔

Bakugo Katsuki

Bakugo’s grip on you tightened as he cradled you in his arms

“Don’t you dare leave, you hear me?” his voice trembled as he pressed his hand against your wound, a feeble attempt to stop the liquid gushing out of it

“K-Katsuki…” you whispered as you felt the life being drained from you, your eyes slowly fluttering as you faded in and out of consciousness

Bakugo shook your body in his arms

“OI! NO, Y/N! DON’T CLOSE YOUR EYES, STAY WITH ME DAMMIT!”

A smile formed on your lips, but he hated it

It wasn’t your usual smile — the one that brightened his days and made him feel full inside

This one was sad, sucking up all the happiness from his soul and leaving him empty inside

Because it was the last smile of yours he’d ever see, and he knew this was your final goodbye

Bakugo choked out a sob as he cupped your face and stroked his thumb across your cold, pale cheek

He leaned down and his lips met yours, his final parting gift to you before you left this world for good

It was slow, passionate, and full of Bakugo’s emotions as he poured out his love for you one final time

He parted from you to take one last look at your beautiful, blood-stained face

You stared into his glassy eyes and smiled as one of his tears fell onto your cheek

“Goodbye, Katsuki. I’ll always love you,” you said as the light finally faded from your eyes

He let out a cry of anguish, screaming your name over and over in the hope that you’d come back if you heard him

But you didn’t

And the sound of his grieving went unheard as he mourned your death alone under the dreary night sky

Todoroki Shoto

Todoroki fell to his knees at the sight of your bloodied body as you lay motionless on the cold, hard ground

He wished it was just some sick nightmare, but the gravel digging into his skin forced him to believe otherwise

He dragged his knees across the rocky pavement, feeling much too weak and heavy to stand

“Y-Y/N!” he called out, and you slowly rolled your head to face the direction of your boyfriend’s voice

You smiled weakly, holding onto the thread of life because you didn’t want to leave without first saying goodbye

“Sho…” you breathed, so softly he could barely hear it

He wrapped you up in his arms and took your trembling hand in his

“I’m here. I’m here, Y/N,” he said, voice cracking as he realised this would be the last time he would hear you say his name

You nodded weakly, leaning into his chest

“It feels… so cold…” you whispered, trying to hold on to his warmth as yours slowly seeped out of you

He knew it was futile but he found himself warming your body with his quirk anyway

“P-please don’t leave me, Y/N. I love you so so much,” he said, tears blurring his vision and threatening to spill out of his eyes

“I… love you too, Sho… and I’ll always… be with you,” you promised

Using the last of your strength, you placed your hand over his heart, smiling serenely as you felt it beating for you

“... Right… here…”

You finally closed your eyes, and your hand slowly slid down his chest as the last of your energy dissipated into nothingness

“Y/N? Y/N! Wake up! Wake up, please!” Todoroki begged as he tried to shake you awake

But when you gave no response, reality gripped him by the heart and he cried shamelessly for the loss of the love of his life

Midoriya Izuku

Midoriya took one glance at you and immediately knew it was too late

You weren’t going to make it

He rushed over to where you lay, scooping you up in his strong arms

“I-Izuku?” you whimpered

You were in so much pain and you could feel the slick red substance pooling around your body

“Hey, hey, I’m right here,” Midoriya tried to soothe you as you choked on your sobs

“A-am I gonna die?” you asked, tears beginning to impair your vision

He could see the fear in your eyes, and the way your lip was quivering as you gasped for air

You were afraid of death

“No my love, you’re just going to go to sleep for a while, okay? You’re going to be alright, you’re going to be fine,” he soothed

He wanted you to go peacefully, so he stayed strong for you even though he was crumbling inside

“Sweetheart, can you close your eyes for me?” he asked, forcing down the lump in his throat

You looked up at him with worry but nodded meekly and squeezed your eyes shut

He started to hum a familiar lullaby, the one you’d once sung for him as you were reminiscing your childhood

You began to relax as he sang the melody, the sweetness of his voice calming you as your body slowly seemed to grow lighter

A smile spread across your lips as he reached your favourite part, and you quietly hummed along with him, the pain slowly fading away into the night

A tear slid down his cheek as he sang the final note, glancing down at your face which now wore the beautiful smile he loved so much

“Thank you... Izuku...” you exhaled peacefully as you breathed your final breath

Midoriya’s lip trembled as he leaned down to place a tender kiss on your forehead

“Sweet dreams, my princess. I love you,” he said to no one before breaking down into uncontrollable sobs

© written and published by animatedarchives 2020. please do not steal or repost. thank you.

[bokutosworld]

over again | iwaizumi hajime

pairing: iwaizumi x gn!reader word count, genre: 1.8k words, angst + fluff in the beginning. warnings: mentions of death, car accident.  summary: he blames himself for the past but you help him take the first step to moving on. a/n: @ricerice​ i promised i’d tag you in an iwa angst so hope you enjoy this hahah

—

“Iwaizumi!” 

Who’s there?

“Hajime!” 

Huh?

“Babe!” 

Iwaizumi’s blinded by the harsh sunlight when he opens his eyes. Where am I? He hears people laughing in the distance, children running about, and waves breaking at the shore. With an outstretched hand, he feels the texture of hot, grainy sand beneath his touch. The next thing he finds is the warmth of another person’s hands. 

“Hajime, get up! This is no time for sleeping under the shade.”

He comes to his senses and his vision clears to make out a familiar face. You were hovering over his body, blocking the sun from his eyes and he could see how you were smiling so happily at him. 

He gets up from his lying position and cups your cheeks, thumbs grazing your face so tenderly as if he’s afraid to break you. He tugs you for an embrace, his hold tightening for every second that passes. 

Worried, you wrap your arms around his torso. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?” 

And that’s when you feel it. Tears streaming down his face and leaving a trail on your neck. Your heart quickens and you pull back to see him silently sobbing. 

“Why are you crying?” 

He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. Because even he doesn’t know the reason why he suddenly broke down. It came out of nowhere, his chest constricting at the sight of you and the overwhelming feeling of longing and desperation. 

You’re wiping his tears and he catches your palm, bringing it to his lips. Finally, he smiles, “Nothing’s wrong. Shall we go take a swim?” 

— 

Is this dèjá vu? 

Iwaizumi could swear that he’s been in this exact spot in the exact same time with you. Like he was experiencing it all over again. If he dug around in his mind, he could pull out a similar memory where you were enjoying the feel of the water in your feet and calling out for him to join. 

Maybe it was just a coincidence. 

He decides to stop overthinking and relaxes his tense body. Approaching you with a smile, he surprises you when he places an arm under your knees and your waist and lifts you with ease. 

“Hajime,” you exclaim, hitting his biceps. 

He spins the both of you, the water splashing around before letting you fall in the water. You’re completely soaked, hair sticking to the sides of your face when you come up to breathe and Iwaizumi’s bending over his knees as he laughs.

The thing about Iwaizumi is that he has a beautiful laugh, his eyes often turning into crescents and the sound is music to your ears. It’s rare for him to openly show emotions unlike others you know who wear their hearts on their sleeves. You’d have to be someone he was comfortable with, someone he trusts before getting the privilege of seeing the rarest sides of him.

And to Iwaizumi, you have always been that person. 

You grab his hand and pull him so he could join you in the cool seawater. It takes a moment before he comes up for air and when he does, he’s grinning with a mischievous look in his eyes. You feel his arm around your waist, pulling you closer until your lips are only a hair’s breadth away. 

“Are you happy right now?” He asks. 

Humming, you grab at his shoulders and press your forehead to his. “I am.” 

“Good,” he says before leaning for a kiss. It’s gentle, it’s passionate, and it captures a million loving thoughts and emotions that neither of you could ever translate in words. You feel him smile into the kiss before breaking apart. 

“You taste salty,” you tease to hide how he has just literally taken your breath away. 

He chuckles and in your closeness, you feel his heart racing. “That’s your fault. You nearly drowned me in the water.” 

Rolling your eyes, you hit at his bare chest and make a move towards dry land.

“I’m hungry! Let’s go get something.” 

As he watches you go back to your lounge chair and grab a towel to dry off, the scene before him blurs. He shakes his head, blinks once and twice before you were fading right in front of him. He calls your name and catches you look back at him before all he could see was black. 

— 

When he comes to his senses, he finds himself laying with his head on your lap. Your fingers are softly brushing through his hair, the gesture ushering him in a state of euphoria and he thinks could go back to sleep. 

But then he remembers what happened and he’s up. 

“You’re awake.” He senses something was different with how the corners of your lips turned upwards solemnly. Your eyes glossed with something he couldn’t describe. 

“How long was I out?”

“Well, you missed lunch. And we’re the only ones left here,” you inform him. Your gaze looking past the vast ocean. 

Iwaizumi turns to where you were looking and he’s mesmerized. By now, the sun has set and the sky was turning from clear blue to warm orange hues. He looks at you and his heart jumps, admiring the glow of your sun-kissed skin. 

“Have you realized it yet?” You break the silence. 

What are you talking about? 

You glance at Iwaizumi with a sad smile. When he doesn’t answer, you take it as your cue to continue speaking. “Do you remember when we took our first trip to the beach right after we graduated from high school?”

He listens. 

“It was our first out-of-town date as a couple and I was so nervous to be alone with you,” you chuckle at the distant memory. “But you made it easy. You were such a gentleman, you never made me uncomfortable, and every moment with you felt natural.

“That day, I had the most fun that I’ve had in my years of existence,” you turn to him, eyes boring deep in his and you smile. “That was my favorite memory of us.” 

As if a lightbulb flashed in his head, Iwaizumi finally makes sense of what’s happened. Why the earlier events seemed so familiar to him. 

Because, indeed, they have already happened. 

He feels something in the pit of his stomach and he averts his gaze, looking at anywhere but you. He observes how the clouds look superficial, how the waters before him look almost imaginary, how you look alive. 

His voice is trembling when he asks, “This is all a dream, isn’t it?” 

“That’s right.” 

And for the second time, he cries. Oh god. Of course, this can’t be real. Of course, this was all a figment of his imagination. He’s been praying for this opportunity to spend time with you again. 

 “It’s good to see you, Hajime.” 

Because you weren’t in his life anymore. 

He crumbles in front of you, shoulders shaking violently as he weeps for you. He’s saying something but it’s incomprehensible. He reaches for your hand and you take it, feeling the strong grip on your palm.

“Why?” I have longed for you for days, months. “Why show yourself only now?” 

“You’re still suffering. And I don’t like to see you hurting.”  

“I’m sorry, so, so sorry,” he mutters repeatedly. 

You cradle his shaking body. “Shh, Hajime. Stop blaming yourself. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault.” 

He remembers the day it happened so vividly in his mind. It was unpredictable and it happened in a blink of an eye���he could still hear the tires screeching, could still feel the impact of the collision, could still picture himself with you inside that car when it went flying across the street. 

Despite the immediate assistance from an ambulance, the doctors at the hospital declared you as dead on arrival. And when he woke up three days after the incident, he couldn’t believe the news he was hearing. He wanted everything so badly to be a bad dream, wanted to be able to hold you and hear your voice one more time. 

Losing you felt like he lost a part of himself too. 

“I miss you,” he croaked. “I miss you everyday it hurts.” 

“I know.” You hold him close for a while. “I’m only given one chance to visit someone in their dreams so I want to make this worthwhile. Iwaizumi, I want you to move on. For my sake and yours.” 

It takes him a while to calm down, only reveling in the moment when he could finally touch you, talk to you, and hear you even if it was only in his dreams. 

“I can’t,” he stutters. “I can’t move on. There are pieces of you in everywhere I go, everywhere I look. On my table, there’s still the coffee cup you always used when you come to my apartment. Your toothbrush is still sitting beside mine in the bathroom.

And your parents, god knows I’m thankful for them. But every time, they call to check up on me, I’m reminded of you and how I let you die.” 

“It’s not your fault. Stop thinking of that.” Your heart shatters whenever he says that. “No one expected that to happen. And I’m also frustrated and heartbroken that I can’t be with you anymore.”

There’s a long minute where neither of you say anything. The two of you just holding on to one another and savoring the moment. 

“I have always dreamt of growing old with you,” you whisper dreamily. “We’d own a house and live there with our children. I was thinking one boy and one girl. I’m sad that I can’t make that happen with you anymore. But you have a whole life ahead of you. I’m still rooting for you to achieve your dreams, you know?” 

Finally, he laughs as he’s slowly coming to terms with his reality. 

“Forever and ever. That’s how long I said I loved you and that has not changed. Even when I’m already gone, I will always be,” you rest your hand on his chest near where his heart lies. “Here.”  

He grabs your wrist and intertwines his fingers with yours before kissing them. He doesn’t want to let go of you again. He’s already lost you once and he’s not about to lose you again, wishing that he could stay in this dream forever. 

As he’s about to tell you something, he’s brought out of his unconsciousness and his eyes fall to the empty space in his bed. The sheets feel damp and it’s only when he touches his face that he realizes he’s been crying in his sleep. It’s cold when he reaches out to your side of the bed, thinking back to the nights you slept beside him and he felt content. 

He remembers what you said. 

Forever and ever. That’s how long I said I loved you. 

He wills himself to be comforted by those words, repeating them in his mind like a chant until he finds peace and falls back to sleep. He hopes that tomorrow will be better. 

[yslkook]

sonder

pairing: taehyung x reader (exes au) summary: sonder: the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. or

“What am I about to say?”

“That nothing has worked out for you since we dated, because even though the women you date are all wonderful, all you see in them is me,” You exhale, “I might have to kick you out if you say something as predictable as that.”

word count: 3459 warnings: alcohol, smut (penetrative sex, oral f receiving, tae is possessive for like half a second, some tears) a/n: inspired by these pictures of taehyung. also if this feels rushed, that was on purpose- i wanted to make them kinda messy 

Your second whiskey of the evening burns something bitter in the back of your throat, but you welcome it. It’s a welcome respite from the shitty week you’ve had, but that’s besides the point.

One of your favorite things to do to unwind after a tough week is to people watch, and one of your favorite places to do so was at the bars near your apartment. You liked to create vivid stories for these people that walked through the bar- who they were, what their backstories were. It was an amusing game to you, and even if both Yoongi and Hobi told you that you needed a better hobby, you’d only scoff at them.

Speaking of, Yoongi was supposed to be joining you soon. But apparently he’s running late. About fifteen minutes late, according to his cryptic text from earlier:

yoongi: running late, im bringing a friend

You think nothing of it, not really. And you just sip on your whiskey, watching a pair of new faces walk through the door from your stealthy booth in the corner of the bar.

You should’ve known that when Yoongi had said he was bringing a friend, it meant Taehyung. You briefly remember Yoongi telling you that Taehyung had moved back to the city a few weeks ago.

Taehyung, who had moved away halfway across the world years ago as a novice in the art history world. Taehyung, who had broken your delicate heart and taken pieces of it with him more than five years ago.

But even so, you harbor no ill feelings towards the man. He did what he had to do, and you did as well. It’s been so long now, that he should almost be a stranger to you. 

Yoongi watches the way your lips part in surprise at the sight of Taehyung- he knows there are still lingering feelings, maybe a lack of closure. Maybe something else that you don’t feel like discussing or diving into. You send him a hearty death glare his way but Yoongi ignores it.

You and Taehyung are nothing if not stubborn. Taehyung hasn’t stopped asking about you since he moved back to the city.

After all, you’ve hardly dated since Taehyung broke up with you. You had sincerely, genuinely believed that he was your one and only, your forever. It just hadn’t felt right, not with anyone else. So you just stopped, not wanting to force love with people if your heart really wasn’t in it.

And now, Taehyung is standing in front of you, dressed in expensive black from head to toe, looking as if he had just walked off of the runway before meeting up with Yoongi. His hair is longer than you ever remembered it being, two small silver hoops in his ears.

Handsome. He looks healthy and warm. He looks good.

You clear your throat and wave at both of them, opening your arms for a hug. Yoongi’s hug is brief, you see the man at least once or twice a week, but you pinch his waist for ambushing you like this. You gasp softly when Taehyung wraps his arms around you. You’d apparently forgotten how his body just fits into yours. Even after all this time.

It truly hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it.

“Hi,” Taehyung breathes into your hair. You should pull away, you really should. You can’t even meet Yoongi’s eyes, too bewitched by the hold that Taehyung somehow still has on you. 

You feel as though your heart is running a mile a minute, and yet it feels like you’re greeting an old friend after a long time. 

“Taehyung,” You say softly, his name sounding like a ghost of a memory, “It’s been a long time.”

You sit in your booth and Taehyung sits next to Yoongi. It feels like three old friends catching up after a while, not like if two exes are sitting with their mutual best friend trying not to catch glimpses of the other.

You take a sip of your drink with shaky hands. It’s going to be a long night.

At some point during the evening, Yoongi claims that Hoseok has an emergency and that he has to go. You think he planned this (both him and Hobi), because there’s a meddling glint in his eye that you haven’t seen recently.

You panic, scrambling to somehow get Yoongi to stay, so that you’re not alone with Taehyung. You’re afraid of what you might do or say. Or for what you might not do or say.

And yet, talking to him comes like second nature. Maybe it’s because you have years of history between the both of you, even if you haven’t spoken in the last five.

It hurt so much. When he broke up with you, you mourned the loss of your best friend. He had said you could try to be friends, but you couldn’t handle it at the time. And then more time went by… and suddenly, he was barely a thought in your passing mind. Yet, he still lingered, in your mannerisms. Maybe some part of you was still waiting on him. Which wasn’t healthy… But it wasn’t hurting anyone. And besides, you were okay. But you had never really believed in soulmates until Taehyung. Perhaps it was the lack of closure. 

At least that’s what you convinced yourself, because seeing Taehyung like this, laughing and talking to you as if no time has past throws you for a loop.

Mainly because… it’s so easy to fall into conversation with him. It’s so easy to laugh with him and make him laugh. You enjoy learning about everything he’s been up to over the last few years, all of his adventures, the sights he’s seen. How enthusiastic he is, how he finds beauty in everything.

You both had always been such good friends. Maybe that’s what you miss more than anything. Somehow, hours go by and you both are left to be the only ones in the bar-

“Hey what brought you here to begin with?” Taehyung asks, holding the door open for you, “Had a bad day? You still like people watching?”

“Yeah,” You say wistfully, “Something like that.”

He squeezes your shoulder in reassurance. You catch his eyes in the streetlights and feel your heart swell.

Even if it’s been more than five years since you saw Taehyung last, since you felt his fingers thread in between yours… it still feels so familiar. It’s funny, isn’t it? How so much time can go by, how you can be strangers on paper but feel like you’ve known his soul for this entire time.

His smile glows in the moonlight. A light breeze cradles him, carding through his dark strands of hair gently. You can vividly recall a time when it was you- your fingers running through his hair through soft laughs and unkept promises.

You wonder if your heart is still his, after all this time. It’s not as if you’ve had many people to compare your all-consuming five year relationship to in the last few years. Every person you met, you found yourself comparing to your ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t healthy.

And you had known that he had moved on from your own mutual friends. You don’t even know if he’s single right now, but you knew he was in a relationship a year ago… Or maybe two? Maybe you should care a little more, but you’ll blame it on the whiskey for causing you to squeeze his hand a little harder and lean into him.

Taehyung looks exactly the same, he feels exactly the same as he did when you were twenty-two and stupid enough to believe that you would make it. He’s always felt like he fit the messy edges of your soul perfectly, and even now, you feel that familiar warmth of his soul rubbing up against yours.

Even as he’s chatting away, eyes crinkling in genuine happiness, you’re hardly listening. You’re only thinking about how nice he feels next to you. 

Serendipity. It must be serendipity, for him to show up in your life again when you had been teetering on the edge of misery and self-deprecation. Your head is jumbled, brain filled with nothing but sweet memories of him and your heart is aching for something you might never have again.

But all you have is now. So when Taehyung twirls you easily and sways with you under the dimmed light of a street lamp, pulling a surprised laugh out of you, you make your decision.

“Where’s your new big girl apartment?” Taehyung asks, a hint of longing in his tone.

“It’s not new,” You scoff, “But I live, like, five blocks away.”

Taehyung takes your hand in his again, asking you questions about your apartment. How you found it, do you like it, do you have roommates. To which you shrug and tell him that you like being alone. Something shifts in his eyes, something sad. He recalls your thirst for life when you both had been together- always ready to try something new, always wanting to be around people, always dreaming with your head in the sky.

He wonders what changed. You’re so quiet, eyes a little dark, shoulders tense. Maybe that’s what growing up is. Maybe that’s what tumbling out of your early twenties and into your late twenties is.

Or maybe you’ve just changed in general. It’s been a long time, after all. Since you both mutually broke up, since he moved halfway across the globe. 

But still, he catches sparks, flutters of embers in your gaze. He catches the tender, playful excitement that you’ve always held near and dear to your heart- it’s what made you and him such a good team years ago.

Talking to him is so easy, not that you thought it would be difficult to begin with. It’s always been easy with him, easy to laugh with him, easy to love him. 

The front door of your apartment building comes into view. Your hand is still in his. Taehyung hesitates on letting you go, but he does.

“It was nice to see you,” Taehyung murmurs, allowing himself the brush of the back of his hand on your cheekbone, “I mean it.”

“Yeah. I’m glad I ran into you, too. Even if I was stuffing my face with whiskeys,” You grin and lean into his touch, “Even if Yoongi probably played both of us.”

“Don’t know when you became such a whiskey girl.”

“It’s been years, Taehyung. I’m sure I’ve got a few more surprises for you,” You say, smile falling into something more intense, “Wanna come find out what they are?”

“Thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.”

Taehyung’s lips are on yours the minute you close the door to your apartment. His hands are molded to your hips over your clothes and you instantly moan into his mouth loudly, slipping your tongue past his lips eagerly. Drinking him up as if he’s been yours to drink up this entire time.

You fumble with the buttons of his peacoat, nearly ready to yank the buttons off. Patience has never been your strong suit, but you just want to feel him. 

But the minute you pull away for air, you re-center yourself. No matter how enticing his bitten lips are…

“Are you single?” You ask bluntly.

“Why?” Taehyung says with an arch of his stupidly perfect eyebrow, “You falling in love with me again?”

“Shut up, you wish. I thought you had a girlfriend,” You say pointedly, toeing out of your heels and hanging your jackets up in the coat closet.

“You keeping tabs on me? I knew it,” Taehyung says, looking a little too smug about it.

“Shut the fuck up,” You swat his chest, “Yoongi may have mentioned it to me once or twice.”

More like he told you multiple times when you were drunk, wasted and crying over Taehyung because you never truly got over him. In some corner of the deepest part of your heart, you never got over him.

“I’m not dating anyone. Or talking, seeing anyone,” Taehyung shrugs, “That didn’t work out. Nothing’s really worked out, not since…”

“Don’t say it,” You mutter, “Don’t say what I think you’re about to say.”

You need another drink. So you pour yourself another hefty glass of whiskey and pour one out for him, too.

“What am I about to say?”

“That nothing has worked out for you since we dated, because even though the women you date are all wonderful, all you see in them is me,” You exhale, “I might have to kick you out if you say something as predictable as that.”

“And if it’s true?”

“Then I’m definitely kicking you out. Might need another five years to see you again,” You whisper. He moves closer to you, tentatively holding your hips in his. You don’t push him away, only looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I missed you so fucking much,” Taehyung breathes into your hair, wrapping you in a hug, “You have no idea. And you? Are you single?”

“No, you missed the idea of me. Of us,” You mumble, but you’re unable to pull out of his hold, “We were young, we had dreams… And yeah, I’m single.”

“We could’ve made it work-”

“Taehyung, stop it,” You mutter, throat going dry with barely concealed yearning for him, “We both made the choices we made for a reason. You’re here and I’m here for a reason. Don’t wanna talk about what if’s with you anymore. Just kiss me, Taehyung-”

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, cupping your face in his big hands and pressing his soft lips to yours instantly. Time feels like nothing between you both, but it feels like he’s trying to learn this new version of you through your kiss. 

You’re undecided on whether this is a one time thing, but all you know is that you want him. And you want him now. His hands are warm over your thighs as he lifts you up in his arms, your chest plastered to his. His hair has gotten longer, dark strands effortlessly falling into his forehead.

He’s so handsome and you swoon when his lips press against your neck. Taehyung still remembers what you like, what your favorite spots are.

It’s almost as if no time has passed. You both ignore it, ignore the nostalgia creeping into the crevices of your kisses.

“Mmm, my bedroom’s that way,” You mumble hoarsely, pulling away with hooded eyes. 

“You’ll have to give me a proper tour later,” Taehyung says, his voice somehow even deeper.

“Yeah, you’d be so lucky,” You snort and Taehyung shuts you up with another searing kiss. He doesn’t miss the meticulous way you’ve decorated your cozy home, pops of color and decorations that are so very you in every corner. He sees a small photo collage in the corner of your bedroom. 

Once upon a time, a photo of you and him would’ve been the crown jewel.

“Tae,” You mumble, “Stop, focus on me. I want you-”

So he does.

Your legs close around Taehyung’s head, his tongue slipping into your glossy folds for the third time that evening. He can’t get enough of your soft noises, even when you’re telling him it’s too much, you widen your legs for him to slot in between them easily. Taehyung hikes your legs over his shoulder, nearly rutting into the bed at the sight of your quivering bottom lip and the way your tits bounce.

He palms you lewdly, squeezing and pinching.  “You’re so wet,” Taehyung moans into your pussy, “Fuck, baby-”

“Taehyung,” You breathe, voice sounding broken even to your own ears, “I want you, I want your cock…”

“You sure you want this?” Taehyung asks, his voice strained.

“Yeah,” You nod eagerly, “Do you?” 

With a nod, “Do you have condoms?” He rasps, nose nudging your clit.

“Y-yeah,” You moan, “The nightstand, first drawer. Brand new box, never before used-”

“Really?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow, “When was the last time, baby?”

“The last time what,” You whine, tugging on his forearm.

“Last time you had sex,” Taehyung says, pulling the box out from your nightstand. 

“Uhhh… when you broke up with me?” You shrug sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Shit,” He groans, “Seriously?”

You don’t miss how he palms himself over his pants at your words. He’s always had a hint of possessiveness in him, and you already know that he’s trying to process that the last person, the only person to have ever seen you like this was him.

“Yeah, I didn’t have luck the way you did, I guess,” You say lightly, “Not that I was trying very hard, though.”

“Damn, baby, nobody’s been loving you right, huh?” Taehyung says, pulling out a condom from the box with shaky hands.

“Yeah. Not even you,” You say. Maybe that was mean, but his eyes flash at you in warning.

“Come here,” He says, a soft demand, “Did you miss me?”

You shrug playfully and unbutton his pants for him. He swats your roaming hands away and they land on his belly, your nails scratching lazily. Taehyung has always looked like a vision, but seeing him like this, hovering above you with golden, tanned skin and his jaw locked, looking every bit like the man of your dreams...

He commands, demands respect. Your pussy throbs just from the sight of him shucking off his pants and his boxers in one go, tugging his hard and heavy cock roughly with one hand.

You swear you drool. Your head is empty, only thoughts of him, his big hands, broad shoulders-

“Did you miss me, baby,” Taehyung asks again, voice a little rougher, a little harsher.

“Does it matter,” You challenge him, “You only want my pussy-”

“And you only want my cock-”

“So give it to me then. Since you know me so well,” You sneer. You gasp in surprise when he swats your thigh and then moan his name when he pushes the head of his cock into you without much warning.

“You talk so fucking much,” Taehyung breathes, cupping your cheeks with one hand.

“Shit,” You gasp, “You’re so fucking big-”

You squeeze your eyes shut and Taehyung stills inside of you, giving you time to adjust to him. He peppers sweet kisses over your forehead, a contrast to his previous words. You cannot believe that somehow, Taehyung is back in your bed, his cock buried deep within you. 

The thought makes your eyes water. You’re a little overwhelmed.

“What’s wrong,” Taehyung asks when he sees your wet eyes, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Nothing, you’re just so big,” You mumble, avoiding his eyes. Taehyung looks at you suspiciously but says nothing.

He’s the only one who’s ever had you like this. The thought makes something in his belly flare, the urge to leave bruises on your welcoming hips and pound into your wet pussy growing and growing with each second.

But he doesn’t move, not until you give him the okay. Taehyung’s fingers are tight around your hips, loose around your neck, his lips plastered to any inch of skin he can reach. With the first rock of his hips into you, you wrap your legs around his waist and shudder in his arms.

He nuzzles your neck, chest plastered against yours. Your nails are tightly pressed into his biceps, surely leaving marks for tomorrow morning. Your soft cries of his name sound like sweet rapture, something he’s been searching for for years. Or something that he had and something he let go of.

And then he wonders how he ever spent the last few years not buried in your pussy, when you feel something like home to him.

“You know, I moved back here a few weeks ago,” Taehyung says, turning on his side to face you, hands gentle over your chest.

“Oh, I know. Yoongi and Hobi wouldn’t shut up about it. They really missed you,” You reply, not meeting his eyes.

“And you? Did you?” Taehyung asks again. You hesitate.

“Does it matter, Taehyung?” You mumble, brushing his hair away from his eyes, “Does it change anything?”

“It could. If you wanted it to,” He murmurs, pulling you into his chest. His fingers are light over your spine, but you scoff.

“Don’t say shit like that,” You sigh, pressing your hand to his face. 

He only laughs with his big, bright smile and pulls you in closer, kissing your forehead. “I can leave you know. If you want me to. If this is... weird.”

“I think we’re way past weird, Taehyung. If I wanted you to leave, I would’ve kicked you out by now,” You say easily and ignore the way his smile sends unfamiliar butterflies through your belly, “Go to sleep. I’ll decide if I wanna kick you out in the morning.”

[charliedawn]

Imagine having ran away from the Elven kingdom while being betrothed to Thranduil and returning

" Where is lady Thranduil ?! I must speak with her this instant !"

You shout while making your way to the throne room where you were sure to find Thranduil.

" Oh no..She's back.."

Thranduil pales perceptibly and even shivers at the loud voice, knowing only one fool daring to address him this way.

" Who is it, sir ?!"

One of the counsellors asks while Thranduil closes his eyes and takes a big breath of air before responding with visible disdain.

" The most annoying arrogant little vermin to ever walk this earth.."

Suddenly, the door of the throne room is kicked open and you walk in with a big bright smile.

" Hello, your majesty ! Remember me ?! How is that scar of yours ?! Still healing ?!"

He sighs loudly before ordering the other people present to leave with a slight nod of his head. When everyone is gone, he turns towards you with a fake smile.

" Lady Y/N.. What an unpleasant surprise..!How could I ever forget you ? If I remember correctly, I swore to kill you myself if you ever dared to show your face again ?"

You ignore his barely hidden threat with a dismissive wave of your hand.

" Bah ! Still mad ?! Me who thought you elves were all about forgiveness ?! And, if I remember correctly, I told you that I wouldn't come back to your lovely spooky forest unless death was upon me !"

He nods and smirks before crossing his arms over his chest.

" Well..At least you don't have a problem of memory. You look well enough..How about you see yourself out ?"

You bite your lower lip hesitantly, when he walks past you in order to leave, before turning around and shouting.

" Thranduil ! I'm dying !"

He stops dead in his tracks and turns towards you slowly with a frown.

" What did you say ?"

You sigh before looking up at him with begging eyes.

" I'm..I'm dying, Thranduil..I have been cursed by a very powerful mage. I only have a short time left and I wanted to make amends before I leave..So, please, hear me out.."

He doesn't answer and you take that as an invitation to keep talking.

" I wanted to apologize. All those years ago, I wounded you. But, you have to understand why ?! We were betrothed, while you had just lost your wife..I knew that it was unfair of my family to force an alliance so soon. I wanted to get away, and I knew that they wouldn't let me leave unless I escaped. I didn't think that you would be the one trying to stop me..I didn't know because it was dark and I thought it was a soldier that would get me back if I didn't fight back ! I couldn't have known that it was you ! I wouldn't have fought you."

He sighs before asking you.

" How long ?"

You frown before replying, visibly annoyed.

" Did you hear a word of what I just said ?! Can't you just forgive me so I can finally have peace ?!"

He turns around and walks towards you at lightning speed before yelling.

" No ! I can't ! Now, tell me, how long ?!"

You are startled by his sudden outburst and quickly answer.

" 5 days ! I've got 5 days.."

He visibly clenches his jaw and asks surprisingly calmly.

" Where ? Where did he curse you ?"

When you don't answer, he grabs your wrist and you cry out in pain. He frowns before tearing your sleeve in half and looking at the rotten skin there. He softly touches it with the tip of his fingers and you whimper. He looks up at you with a worried glance before leading you to his throne. He gets out a big book that seems to be as old as the forest itself from underneath the throne and starts flicking through the pages in search for something that could help you.

" Who was that great mage of yours ?"

You hesitate before finally admitting.

" Saruman. I tried to steal something from him.."

Thranduil suddenly looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, urging you to continue with his eyes.

" I..This is why I am here, Thranduil.."

You get out some kind of little blue fial and he rises up from his throne to look at it more closely, tilting his head slightly to observe it with more attention.

" What is it ?"

He finally asks while continuing observing it with attention, tilting his head slightly to the other side. You sigh before admitting.

" A potion of resurrection. He had it in his tour and wanted to use it to resurrect someone..I don't know who. But, when I heard that he had this kind of potion, I sneaked inside his home and stole it. But, before I could get out of there safely, he woke up and cursed me.."

Thranduil growls in annoyance at the lack of results from his search inside the book and also, at your foolishness.

" You fool ! He could have killed you ! Why would you go do something so stupid and reckless ?!"

He asks, visibly upset, and you can only shrug with a sad smile.

" Maybe because I wanted to give you a chance to be happy again ?"

He frowns in incomprehension until you explain.

" It was for your wife. It was for Evranï."

His eyes widen in shock at her name and his eyes keep going back and forth from the small vial to your face, trying to see if you were telling the truth.

" Y/N..Why ? Why do this for me ? Why risk your life for someone that you don't even know..?"

You smile pitifully at him before replying with tears forming at the corner of your eyes.

" Because that's what you do when you're in love, right ? You do everything in your power to make them happy..You may have not known until today but, I fell in love with you, Thranduil..I fell in love with you the moment I first set eyes on you during my first visit to your castle. You may not share my feelings, but it doesn't mean I have to forget about them, right ?"

He was about to answer when you start coughing loudly and cover your mouth with your hand. You then notice the blood and Thranduil seems to notice too since he is standing next to you in a matter of seconds. You fall to your knees and Thranduil is there to catch you.

" Y/N ! You told me 5 days, Y/N ! What's going on ?!"

You smile sadly before confessing.

" I may have lied a little..Saruman told me that I had 5 days to return his vial..four days ago.."

You had never seen the king cry before, it was so hard to imagine his perfect face stained by such vain things as tears..and yet, here he was, crying his eyes out over you. You stroke his cheek lovingly before forcing yourself to smile reassuringly at him.

" Don't cry, my king..This is a happy moment. I finally got the chance to help you and you will soon be able to see your beloved wife again..So, smile for me, okay ?"

You feel the intense pain gaining your heart and tighten your grip on the king's arm unconsciously. He notices and puts his own hand on yours.

" You silly woman..I won't let you die. You still have so much to do, and much more to make amends for, before I can forgive you.."

He softly says and you shake your head, the words feeling like fire every time you utter them.

" Please..Forgive me, my king..I know that I've disappointed you greatly, but please, forgive me so I can leave this world in peace..You can see it as a final act of mercy for a repentent soul ? I give you my life for your wife's..A soul for a soul..I only ask for forgiveness in return.."

You implore him and he looks at the vial that you place in his hand. He then glances back at you with a sad smile, cradling your face and kissing your forehead lovingly.

" I can't forgive you, because there is nothing to forgive..You were afraid and needed someone to believe in you. I’ve let fear and sorrow blind me from my duties towards you. Letting you think that your life had any less value than the one of my deceased wife was my mistake. I should be the one begging for forgiveness, not you. This is why, I can't accept your gift.."

He approaches the vial to your lips and you open your eyes wide at his intent. You close your lips tightly, knowing that if you were to drink it, the queen would never be reborn. He grits his teeths before grabbing your face and pressing his fingers against your cheeks, trying to make you open your mouth, unsuccessfully.

“ I refuse to let you die, Y/N ! Now, drink, you stubborn woman !”

He shouts, but you shake your head and wiggle too much for him to be able to force you to drink the potion with the vial. He finally sighs in, what you thought was, defeat before looking up at the ceiling and whispering.

“ I’m sorry my beloved, but I can't let an innocent girl be the price of my selfishness.”

You frown in incomprehension until you see him drink the potion before pouring it down your throat. You try to push him away, but his lips are sealed to yours and he doesn’t step back until you’ve swallowed every last drop of the potion. Then, and only then, does he step back to look at your arm, making sure that the healing process had begun. He smiles satisfactorily at the skin taking back its original condition.

“ You see ? In a couple of days you’ll be on your feet again.”

He says, but you don't answer and she he looks back at you, he sees that you've blacked out. He smiles before kissing your forehead again.

" Sleep well, my little spitfire."

A couple of days later :

As soon as you are awake, you storm inside the throne room with only one person in mind : Thranduil. When he sees you arrive, he smiles, but unlike his previous thoughts on your reaction when you would eventually wake up, he finds you angry and with tears in your eyes. Before anyone could stop you, you walk towards the king with determination and slap him across the face so hard that the sound resonates around the throne room. His surprise turns into anger and he was about to yell at you for your behavior when he sees that you are crying.

" Why did you do that ?! You kingdom needs a queen !”

He suddenly understands what you are so upset about and before he could answer, you crumble at his feet. You grip the bottom part of his robe and starts sobbing, hiding your face in the piece of cloth. He sighs before forcing you to look at him, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger to look deeply into your teary eyes.

“ You made a mistake.”

You suddenly stand up and yell, obviously offended.

“ Who said it was a mistake ?! I gave you what you always wanted !”

He frowns before standing up as well and glaring back at you.

“ I do say it is a mistake because you made a reckless decision that could have led you to your death ! Your life belongs to me! Don't you dare forget again ! You'll die when I see fit ! You really thought that coming in here and dying on my floor would make me happy ?!"

You open your eyes wide and hold back the tears that were threatening to come back. He regrets his sudden outburst nearly instantly and straightens up to add.

" But, as a queen, you are to learn from your mistakes and make good use of them.."

You grit your teeths before replying confidently.

" I am no queen ! I am a warrior ! I have spilt blood and done things..things that would only bring you down with me. Why want me as a queen ?”

He sighs before turning towards you with a sad smile.

" What makes a queen ? A queen learns to survive, and even if her hands are red with the blood of her enemies, her heart will always be pure, for it beats for her people. A queen can have moments of weaknesses, as any other creature on earth, but she learns from her mistakes. As I have learned from mine. Don't you think I already thought about running away ? Leaving my duties, my son and my kingdom behind ?"

You frown before asking.

" Then why didn't you ?"

His eyes turn grey for a moment and he looks at his thrown before answering truthfully.

" I admit that I was upset at first when my advisors urged me to find a new wife, casting aside the memory of my sweet Evranï. But, having no choice, I had to make a decision. I traveled to every land in order to find that being that would be able to take my love's place on the throne by my side..When I thought that all hope was lost and that I would never find such a person, I found you. I saw you near the weeping willow, as still as a statue and listening to the wind with your eyes closed. I found myself wondering what you were waiting for and sat on the ground until the sun disappeared behind the hills, only then did you move and, to my astonishment, you started dancing with a sword in your hand. Your gestures were so precise and calculated, as if you could slash the wind itself in two. Only a few days later did I finally get an explanation to your particularly odd behavior from one of the villagers, you were training to slay a monster that was killing villagers in your land that nobody had ever seen, but that those who had survived described as fast as the wind. I wanted to laugh at the ridiculous theory, but couldn't bring myself to and decided to wait to see if you would succeed, certain that nobody could slay such a beast. But then, one day, you came in the inn where I was staying with a large victorious smile, covered in blood and carrying the body of the beast on your back that had a wide range of pointy teeths and a very distinctive fur color, one that I had never seen before..Blue with yellow stripes. I remember feeling a sudden wave of pride and respect towards you. Such dedication, patience and strength are what I always thought made a queen. That day, I knew that you would be the only one I would ever accept to rule side by side with.."

You open your eyes wide at the revelation before remembering that there was no weeping willow near the castle and this is when you recall your childhood weeping willow, the one that you used to come to think and imagine what the world would be like outside of your little town. You look up at Thranduil with wide eyes full of admiration, realizing that he had always been one step ahead of you, already knowing you before you even set foot into his kingdom. Thranduil only chuckles at your startled expression.

“ You didn't think I would let some random stranger choose the woman I would be spending the rest of my life with, did you ? Who do you think invited you to the castle in the first place ? You may have chosen me, but I chose you first, my queen..”

He suddenly kneels on one knee in front of you and you blush vividly before hitting his shoulder.

" Get up ! You could have told me ! I thought that you didn't even know my name until I escaped !"

He chuckles again before getting up and leaning in so close that you could stare deep into his beautiful blue eyes. He then proceeds to whisper in the shell of your ear.

" Do not misunderstand. Try to escape again ? And I'll break your legs. Understood, my dear ?"

You shiver at his threat and nod vividly, gulping loudly at his sudden change of demeanor. He smirks at you, satisfied with your answer, before walking towards the exit with the same usual elegance that all elves seem to possess. It takes you a while to react and when you do, you turn around to yell.

" Hey ! Come back here, you tall drama queen wannabe ! I'm not finished with you yet !"

He only laughs before replying with a sing-song voice.

" Welcome home, my queen !"

You huff in annoyance, but can't help smiling at the end. King Thranduil wasn't an easy elf..But, you wouldn't have him any other way. He made you keep going and even if he was harsh in his lessons, you knew that the harsh truth was always better than sugar-coated lies. During your many travels, you had met many different people in many different lands, but none ever compared to the elf king who could be as cold as ice, but also as hot as the sun that shined high in the sky. He always was one step ahead from everyone and even if you were to rule by his side until the end of your life, you would surely never succeed in understanding him.

He suddenly stops in the corridor and turns towards you with a knowing smile.

" Well ? Aren't you coming ?"

You smile and nod before running towards him.

" Thranduil ?"

You would later ask.

" Yes, my queen ?"

He answers before looking down at you while you smile devilishly at him.

" Since I am to become queen, does that mean that I can call you lady Thranduil all I want now ?"

He sighs exasperatedly before rolling his eyes playfully.

" I would rather not, especially in front of my advisors or subjects..but when have you ever taken my opinion into account ?"

You laugh happily before closing your fingers on his hand.

" Who knows ? Maybe I was following your plans from the beginning ?"

He chuckles before smiling mysteriously at you.

" And how did you come to this fascinating conclusion ?"

You look back up at him before replying.

" I just remembered that I was wearing the fur of the beast the night that I escaped..As you said it yourself, of a very "distinctive color", one that nobody could have mistaken.."

He understands and grins at you.

" Looks like I've been exposed..Well played."

You smile widely before winking cheekily at him.

" A queen knows how to learn from her mistakes.."

[reidyoulikeabook]

M is for Maybe One Day

Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Discussion of marriage and children.

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Spencer and reader have a conversation about their future.

A/N: This is the angst free version of part M! If you’re looking for the version that contains angst, that’s here. This is the main scene from the story and is designed so that people who don’t feel comfortable with the potentially upsetting content from the angst-version are still able to enjoy this version. Let me know what you think! :)

Part of The A-Z of Spencer Reid but works as a stand-alone.

You’re awake before Spencer is. You don’t want to risk waking him up by disentangling yourself, so you stay right where you are, unsure of what time it is. You’re infinitely happier curled up in his arms than you would be by being bestowed with that knowledge.

It can only be early, anyhow. There’s only a trickle of light pooling under the curtains. The big living room light got left on last night, you knew Spencer needed it to keep the darkness at bay. It pokes into the room through the gap in the not-quite-closed door, allowing you to get a relatively good look at him.

His hair is a wreck. Even in sleep, you can see the bags firmly indented under his eyes. His mouth is open. No snores come out, only tiny breaths escape the lips formed into an ‘o’ shape.

He looks peaceful.

Unencumbered by any of the worries from yesterday. You close your eyes, deciding that getting a few more hours sleep can’t hurt.

It’s then that he moves. He wiggles his fingers, more than likely trying to wake up the arm that’s gone dead with you lying on it. You open your eyes, and his face floods with guilt. The exact face he makes when you find him hobbling around the apartment without his crutches.

“Sorry,” He squeaks, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I was awake already,” You reassure him, adjusting your position so that he can move his arm, “Did you sleep well?”

He visibly relaxes, his voice raspy with sleep, “I slept okay. Better because you were here.”

You hum. Opening your arms, you nod for him to move. He does, coming to settle himself with his head resting on your chest. There’s a peaceful lull. The residents of Virginia aren’t awake yet, so you’re enveloped in the kind of quiet that only comes with the early hours of the morning. No cars racing past or mothers upstairs on a mission to suck every piece of dust out of their apartment, and potentially yours too.

You feel the low rumble of his throat before you hear it, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You’re not quite sure how long you lie like that. In this liminal space between asleep and wakefulness, night and morning. Your brain starts to wander, trying to settle on anything to use as a rope to escape the reality of last night that bites at your ankles.

For some reason, it settles on Derek. The image of him at his desk.

Planning to raise the next generation of Einsteins?

“I was thinking,” You murmur, playing with a piece of his hair, “I was talking to Derek last week. He was talking about Garcia, and how they’ve spoken about having kids. I mean, I know they’ve been together a lot longer but, it got me thinking.”

He pulls back. For a moment, you’re afraid you’ve gone too far. Then he swallows, his lips curling upwards into a small smile.

“Would you want to-” He cuts himself off, clearing his throat, “Would that be something you could see yourself wanting someday? To marry me?”

“I’d love to marry you,” You tell him, lifting your fingers to his face to trace over the familiar lines of his cheekbones, the points of his face a dot-to-dot you could connect in your sleep.

He smiles, “Would you be Mrs Reid?”

“Of course I’d be Mrs Reid. I’d hate to disappoint the aquarium.”

“Well in that case-” He pretends to move, as if to shift towards the bedside table.

“You don’t have a ring in there.”

“Not yet.”

“It’d be a bad place to keep it.”

“Or it might work as a double bluff.”

“I know your bluffs. Double or triple or quadruple.”

He scrunches his nose, “I don’t think I’ve ever quadruple bluffed.”

“You might one day.”

“I suppose if you’re going to be Mrs Reid you’ll get the chance to find out.”

"I’d like to be Mrs Reid,” You tell him, sincere once more, “I can’t imagine myself ever being with anybody else.”

“I can’t imagine what my life would look like without you in it now,” He says, his voice painfully earnest, cracking a bit at the end.

“Neither can I.”

There’s a shift in atmosphere. Small but significant, one that has you staring at him. Trying to piece together how this ended up being your life. How you went from co-workers at desks next to one another exchanging pleasantries, a man you called Dr Reid for the first week of knowing him until he cracked and insisted you called him Spencer. How you transformed from that to this, caterpillars entering a caramel chrysillis and making it out the other side, soaring through near death experiences and aquarium trips and job offers at Caltech.

There’s been a lot, really.

He interrupts your thoughts, so softly it barely jolts you, “I-I’ve known it for a while now. I’m not sure when I realised but I think that, that we just make it work.”

“We do,” You agree, “That’s what I said to Derek. I think we just understand each other.”

“I never really felt like anybody ever understood me,” He mumbles, his voice dropping as it becomes more sincere, shifting his face more into the pillow, “My whole life I um, I sort of felt out of place. I didn’t always understand peoples jokes or know how to talk to them. I didn’t think I’d ever find somewhere I felt like I belonged.”

His voice wavers. You kiss the top of his forehead, not interrupting, just reassuring.

He continues, “Joining the BAU changed things. Meeting Morgan and Garcia especially. They made me feel like, for the first time in my life, I had friends. Who weren’t annoyed by everything that I said.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” You tell him, your hand coming to rest at the nape of his neck to play with the stray hairs there, “You never do and I understand why. But you’re more than smart. I love your brain, and your memory, and I admire all of that. But you’re also thoughtful,” You punctuate each assertion with a kiss to his knuckles, “And kind. And funny. And you make me feel so loved.”

He sniffles a bit, lifting his head. You can see the tears sparkling in his eyes, and you bring your interlocked hand to his chin, your thumb resting there. He swallows, and you pause for a moment before speaking again.

“And if I was ever going to have a family, there’s nobody I’d rather do it with than you.”

“Really?” He’s winded by the assertion, his breath catching in his throat, “You’d want a family with me?”

“Of course I do. love you. You’d make the most amazing dad in the world Spence.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I know so. Look at how you are with Henry and Jack. You’re the best Uncle ever,” You murmur, “Raising kids with you is the best decision I could make.”

He‘s quiet. Soaking it in. He holds you tighter against his body, essentially putting you back into your place against his neck. The comforting scent of him, and the feeling of his big hands rubbing steady circles on your back, is grounding in the extreme.

Though you’re soothed, you can tell when he’s thinking. His jaw tightens, just a little bit. As if he’s chewing the words. Trying to decide whether to swallow them or let them slip out.

“I think I’d um, I’d retire.”

Slip out.

“You’d what?” You try to keep the surprise out of your voice but it filters through.

“I’d probably um, I’d probably look into teaching. I don’t think I could ever leave our children. Not,” He sniffles, and you know without looking that there’s a tear making its way down his cheek, “Not when there’s a chance I might not come home. I couldn’t do that to them.”

“Okay,” You say, “I’d support you whatever you wanted to do. I was only surprised because I know how much you love the job.”

“You love yours too. I’d never expect you to give it up so we could have children. Not unless you wanted to.”

Of course that’s part of it.

“I know,” You reply, “I know. I guess I wasn’t thinking about the practicality of it. But I know what you mean.”

He swallows, “It’s more than that. I just um. I’d want to be around. All the time.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you can tell there’s more he’s not saying. You adorn his Adam’s apple with a soft kiss, and he lets out a puffy exhale.

“I um, I never thought that this is something I’d get to want. Kids and a wife and a family. Now that it is, now that I get the chance,” He trails off, swallowing, “Now that I have that chance I would never do anything to risk losing it. Or missing a single moment of it. I want to give them a happy childhood. I want to teach them to play chess and watch cartoons on a Sunday and just give them...give them a lifetime of good memories. Not a lifetime of them staring at the door wondering if I’m going to make it home.”

He wants to give them what he never had.

Shifting, you adjust, looking him in the eyes. A tear is making its way down his cheekbone, one you thumb away. Cradling his face in your hands, you can’t help but smile. They aren’t sad tears like you’d expected, his eyes gleam with pure adoration. He’s not sad about the past. He’s happy about the future.

The realisation brings a tear to your eyes, and you can barely get the words out past the lump in your throat, “Maybe one day we’ll be waking up on Saturdays to take our kids to the park.”

The love in his eyes is mirrored and magnified in your own. You can’t be certain whether it’s that or your words that coax another tear out of his eye, but it’s barely passed the bridge of his nose before he’s giving you the biggest wateriest smile, “I’m looking forward to that day.”

So am I.

-

Next part: N is for New Place (i promise it’s onwards and upwards from here!!)

[starfinss]

Good;Bad — Morisuke Yaku

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Summary: You’re having the world’s worst week. Yaku can fix that.

Pairing: Morisuke Yaku x Reader

Rating: Fluff, comfort (SFW)

Word Count: 1,839

You’d been having a terrible week.

It rained on Monday, and because of your spacey Monday brain, you forgot an umbrella, resulting in you getting soaked on your mad dash home from school. Tuesday was a test day, and you hadn’t studied, resulting in a less than ideal score. Wednesday, you left your lunch at home and had to buy something from the vending machine to tide yourself over. This would have been fine if they weren’t out of your favorite snack. Finally, on Thursday, you woke up late, and when you finally got to school you were ten minutes late and you received the humiliating death stare as you took your seat. And at the end of the day, as you were innocently taking notes at volleyball practice, Lev served a ball straight into your face.

The fact that he received an earful from Yaku didn’t comfort you as much as it probably usually would’ve. But Lev was sorry, and you couldn’t really be mean to him. So you let it go, along with the other things you let go from your overall hellish week.

Needless to say, with your seemingly chronic bad luck that week, you were dreading Friday. And for good reason.

The milk was spoiled, so you had to eat your cereal dry, and when you showered, you cut your leg with the razor when shaving. To top it off, you couldn’t get your hair to look right, so you piled it into a bun at the crown of your head.

ou looked at your disheveled reflection in the mirror with tired eyes, stuck your tongue out at it, and hurried to leave the house.

I just have to survive today and then it’s the weekend.

You ran into Yaku as you neared the school, and he had his earbuds in. And when I say ‘you ran into him’, that was literal.

Your feet went out from under you in a flash, sending you tumbling to the pavement. You watched from the ground as Yaku also lost his balance, and he slipped, landing on top of you at an awkward angle.

You heard him groan in pain, and you shifted uncomfortably.

“Sorry,” you said, “my bad.”

Yaku rolled off of you, rubbing his elbow. His sleeved were rolled up, and you saw his brows furrow as he took note of the scrape on his outer forearm he’d gained from the fall.

You paled. “I’m so sorry, Yaku!”

Yaku offered you a smile. “No, I wasn’t looking where I was going. It’s fine. Are you okay?”

You patted dow your body, and aside from a bruised elbow and more than slightly bruised dignity, you weren’t injured.

“Fine,” you said, “but you’re bleeding.”

Yaku glanced down at his arm again. “It’s fine. Not so bad.”

You struggled to your feet, offering Yaku a hand, which he took.

“I’ll take you to the nurse,” you said, “I’m really sorry.”

Yaku looked at you quizzically.  “It’s just a scrape, (Y/N). I’ll go myself if you’re worried. Just head to class.”

You took a breath. “Fine, okay.”

You left Yaku by the gates after a few parting words, keeping your head down as you walked.

Great job, (Y/N). On top of everything else, you just injured the guy you like.

You pushed it to the back of your mind, pulling your sweater sleeves around your hands.

This is gonna be a long day.

——————

Class went smoothly, thank god, and by the time lunch rolled around, you found out your best friend was absent again, so you opted to eat your lunch with the team. Kuroo was warm and welcoming to you when he spotted you, hurrying you into a seat beside Yaku with an almost knowing look that frankly alarmed you.

Yaku’s arm had a bandage on it, and he smiled wanly at you when you appeared beside him.

“Is your arm okay?” You asked as you removed the lid from your lunch box.

Yaku chuckled softly. “Don’t worry about it, really. I’m not gonna die because of a scrape.”

Lev leaned over halfway so he could see you, a smile appearing on his face.

“(L/N), you’re sitting with us today?”

You nodded. “Himari is gone, so here I am. Hope that’s okay.”

[Yaku glanced from Lev and back to you. “It’s fine. You’re always welcome here.”

He took a large bite of his rice. You did the same with your own food, chewing slowly.

Kuroo started taking about volleyball, and you listened as best as you could. You possessed a decent understanding of the game because of the fact that you were the manager of the Nekoma boys team, but you didn’t give any input.

Lunch passed, and you went back to class. You just hoped you could get through the rest of the day without incident.

——————

You arrived at practice late.

Kuroo didn’t comment on it, it wasn’t his place to since you weren’t a player, but he gave you a funny look since you weren’t usually late.

“I’m having an off day,” you told him, and he offered a friendly, albeit Cheshire smile. That was just how he usually smiled.

You sat down, pulled out your notebook, and began to take notes over the practice while doing some of your English homework.

It was about halfway through the practice that a ball suddenly hit you in the side of the face, the contact knocking you off your chair and onto the ground. You notebook skidded across the floor, your pencil sharing its fate. Your nose slammed into your arm as you tried to use it to cushion your fall, and you yelped in pain.

The room went quiet.

“Lev, you idiot, you hit (Y/N)!” You heard Yamamoto cry.

“Don’t flail your arms!”

That was Yaku, and judging from the context, Lev had probably lost control of a serve.

You propped yourself up on your arm, lifting a hand to rub at your sore cheek. Your nose was bleeding. You reached up to wipe the blood away with your sleeve, adding the fact that you now had to wash your sweater to the list of things you were upset about.

You looked up to find a handful of the players around you, concern in their eyes.

Yaku pushed through them, sending a downright murderous look to Lev, who’s expression morphed into a fearful one.

“Give her some space, guys. Back to practice.”

“I’ll get her some ice,” Lev said, guilt in his voice.

“It’s okay, Lev, I’m not mad,” you told him.

He was already out the doors by the time you finished speaking, so you just sighed.

Yaku knelt beside you, helping you sit up against the wall.

“Are you okay?”

You tried to answer him. You really did. Because honestly, while the hit hurt, it wasn’t going to kill you.

But the second you opened your mouth, you began to cry.

Yaku looked alarmed, and the sudden choked sob drew the attention of the other boys, but Yaku held up a hand. He pulled you into his arms, shushing you quietly, his movements a bit awkward, but you appreciated his effort.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” He whispered, and you reached up to hold onto him.

“I’ve just been having a terrible week. I guess I… I hit my breaking point.”

And the whole knocking-over-my-crush thing really isn’t helping.

“Why don’t we go somewhere quiet?” Yaku asked, and you nodded.

“That would be nice.”

“Okay. Hey, Kuroo!”

Kuroo turned. “Yeah?”

“I’m gonna take her to the clubroom. Send Lev when he gets back.”

Yaku helped you to your feet, hand pressing to the small of your back as you walked.

The clubroom was nice and quiet, and once you were inside, Yaku shut the door, leaning against the doorjamb.

You opted for sitting on the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. You tucked your skirt between your thighs to conserve your modesty.

Yaku sat beside you.

“Tell me,” he said, “if you’re comfortable with it, that is, what’s wrong?”

And you told him. You didn’t know why you just began to spill your guts to him, but he listened attentively, offered sympathy, comforted you. It felt nice.

“And then, this morning,” you were saying, another sob building in your throat, “I ran right into you, and I was afraid I’d hurt you—“

Yaku smiled. “(Y/N), I’m perfectly fine, it doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

You sniffled. “I know, but running into the—“

You cut yourself off. What you almost just said would have revealed your feelings for the boy beside you, and rejection wasn’t something else you wanted to add to your terrible week. It would be the cherry on top of your own personal hell.

“Running into the… The what?”

Yaku looked at you with furrowed brows, and you buried your head in your knees.

You could have come up with a creative lie, but that required energy, and that was something you frankly didn’t have.

“The guy… The guy I like.”

Silence.

Heavy silence.

You looked away, somewhere to your left, eyes falling on a pile of volleyball magazines in the corner.

“(Y/N).”

You didn’t answer.

“(Y/N), look at me.”

You turned, eyes full of unshed tears.

And he kissed you.

It was gentle, warm, tender, and you all but melted at his touch, sighing as his hands came up to cradle your jaw. His palms were warm against your already hot face, but they felt nice nonetheless. You linked your hands together behind his neck, slowly kissing him back, your movements unpracticed and tentative, but he didn’t seem to mind.

The door slid open and you and Yaku broke apart quickly, turning to see who entered.

It was Lev, an ice pack in his hand. A wide grin broke out across his face.

You exchanged a look with Yaku.

“I just won 2,000 yen,” Lev said, matter of factly, “here’s your ice pack, (L/N).”

You broke into laughter as he left the ice pack on the ground by the door, and your tears were forgotten as a tender warmth filled your body. You wrapped your arms around Yaku’s neck, kissing him deeply, and he made a soft noise in surprise as he returned the gesture.

“I like you, too, (Y/N),” he said when he pulled back. You felt more tears fill your eyes, but they weren’t of sadness this time.

They were of joy. Of relief.

As Yaku pressed his lips to your forehead, pulling you close to him, you figured that your week maybe didn’t suck as much as you thought it did. It couldn’t, not with an ending like that.

And when you walked back to the gym, one hand holding the ice pack to your head and the other laced together with Yaku’s, you smiled.

“I changed my mind,” you said, and Yaku raised his eyebrows.

“About what?”

“Maybe my week isn’t all bad.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes dancing with mirth, and you forgot all about the pain in your head.

Almost.

[hotchley]

sadness

Right, my laptop is at 12% and I need to cross-post to ao3 and go to sleep because I have one more mock tomorrow, so I’ll try and keep this one short.

My post earlier sparked this. I am now writing a series called “he blinks” which explores how Hotch feels each of the eight core emotions (and probably love, because I am nothing if not a sucker for Hotch and Haley.) Anyways... sadness is first. But it’s more like grief? So... it’s set after 100, and yeah :) There’s no dialogue, and I think this counts as introspection, but I don’t know...

I had more to say, but I can’t remember so... onwards! It’s relatively short, 1272 words, so I hope it’s okay. I’ve not touched most of my WIPs since whenever I last uploaded a fic, and it’s more just me rambling so yeah.. go with it

Trigger Warnings: death, grief, the slightest implication of child abuse (please let me know if I’ve missed anything, but I think this is it)

read on ao3!

Aaron Hotchner’s sadness is quiet.

That’s what Haley’s death teaches the BAU.

Penelope’s sadness is happiness that seems too loud, too much, too forced and perfect to be anything but a terrible attempt at masking something negative. 

JJ’s sadness is socially acceptable: she cries, she accepts the comfort, and then she stitches herself back together before anyone can wonder why one sentence wasn’t able to fix her.

Derek’s sadness is a fierce protectiveness over the people he loves most, because they are the thing that keeps him going and remind him of all the reasons to try his best to cope and move on and deal.

Spencer’s is an unusual thing, that is somehow vulnerable and closed-off in the same moment. He will shed his tears openly, sometimes not even realising that is what he is doing, but he recoils at the slightest glimmer of support.

Emily’s is hidden behind stupid jokes that can’t even raise the corners of her mouth and stories from a childhood that she still can’t quite wrap her head around serve as a coping mechanism, because if she cannot go back to that blissful ignorance then she will remind herself it exists.

Dave’s is an explosive thing that showcases itself as anger and a closed office door. The team always knows when he’s sad. He won’t accept comfort from anyone in the moment, but an unspoken apology is given to everyone in the form of a meal when he’s thinking rationally.

But Aaron’s sadness is quiet and unsuspecting.

The team had never realised that. They’d never been allowed to. 

When Dave recruited him to the team, he was too busy keeping him alive to realise how quiet Aaron could be. 

When Derek joined, Aaron was too busy with keeping him in check and making sure he was safe. 

And when Reid, Garcia and JJ joined, only a few months between each of them, Hotch had been forced to take the reins from Gideon and would not let anyone see him break.

Emily accused him of not being human enough, despite remembering the boy that had worked for her mother and hadn’t quite learnt how to hide the flinch that was reflexive with every slam of a door, and who wore his heart on his sleeve without even realising, so she never saw him break. Until Foyet.

His sadness crept up on them.

They would go hours, sometimes even days, convinced that he was fine. That he was coping, and moving forward, and okay. It was stupid and wishful thinking, they knew that, but they also believed that Hotch was perfect and invincible. 

Reid thought he never blinked. JJ still remembers how he never seemed to lose it.

They would assume he was fine.

And then he wouldn’t smile at something. Or he would, but it would be a shadow of his usual joy and childish excitement. Or it wouldn’t quite reach his eyes, which would remain just as hollow and unfocused and dull as the day of the funeral. Or it would seem to cause him pain to even try.

He would suddenly shove his hands in his pockets. As though he could still feel the blood of Foyet, mixed with his own because Foyet was not and never had been weak, tainting it, despite all the care Derek applied when he wiped them clean. As though he was still in that house, terrified his son would hate him for taking his mother away. As though he couldn’t look at them without seeing the monster he had always known he would eventually become.

Or his voice would soften, just a little too much. His tone would change completely, and the person he was talking to would feel like a child going to the one person that always made them feel safe and seeing someone that could only try to be that good instead. His words would become quieter. Less concise. More calculated. Like he was walking the line between control and destruction.

There would be hesitation. Hotch’s confidence was often a facade, but it was a facade so strong that it even convinced profilers. Morgan had hated it when he first joined, scared his new boss was going to be someone that would stand up and play devil's advocate, but then he had realised the truth: he was just scared of being undermined. Reid had admired it then, and he admired it now. 

He would hesitate, and it would remind them of everything he had lost. He would hesitate with his gun, and Morgan would panic because they had lost Gideon to the job, they couldn’t lose him too. He would hesitate with his pen, and Reid would frown, because Hotch’s reports were used for the trainees as perfect examples, and every word that he wrote himself was modelled after the reports from Hotch he had read after starting.

He would hesitate to touch his son and JJ would weep inside because she knew what it was like to be a child and to have a parent that wasn’t quite whole, knowing that there was nothing you could do to fix the situation because you weren’t the person they wanted.

There would be a slight clearing of his throat before he addressed the team about a case involving mothers, women, children, blondes. He would turn away, and one hand would quickly and furiously wipe at his eyes, before he turned back and acted like he was made of steel.

They would all see him reach for his phone on the harder cases, then freeze and place his hand elsewhere like his pocket was burning him. Dave, Derek, and even JJ would try and mention it, but Aaron always acted like he had no idea what they were talking about. Spencer and Penelope can’t even try and ask how he is before he starts distracting them with some random knowledge about their interests.

Neither genius is oblivious to what he was trying to do. They pretend to be for his sake.

Aaron’s sadness is not the explosion of grief the shows and movies had taught them to prepare for. It is not the beautiful road to healing the poems had caused them to hope for. It is not the simple and painless, cured by a single sleep event the books always make it out to be.

Aaron’s sadness is tired eyes, dark circles, shaking hands. It is sobs stifled at the most random and unplanned time. It is blank stares during conversations and it is slight smiles that expose his brain as being a million miles away. It is the sight of his left hand with a tan line where the ring had been removed two years ago.

It is the team, the family that wants nothing more to fix everything and make him better, having no idea what they are meant to do to help the man that has always held them and cradled them and protected them. It is them feeling like they have made a mistake with every unanswered text. It is the bitter acceptance that all they can do is hold him together until he is ready to take the first step.

It is Aaron Hotchner, not even knowing what he needs anymore and being too afraid to ask for words of assurance and love. It is Aaron Hotchner wearing his wedding ring to feel like a piece of Haley is still real and alive. It is Aaron Hotchner feeling lost and angry and numb and bitter and relieved all at once.

It is all of this. And yet somehow, it is still quiet.

[jadedxrealityw]

-Opening Up- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader.

   ♡~🐍~♡

   Request:  Hi could you do a draco x reader where she's his girlfriend who is afraid of commitment and takes time to open up to him? But gradually they work through it together and all that. Most fics are of draco being afraid to be vulnerable so I think this would be a pretty good change. No pressure if you don't want to do it. Thanks love :)

      Kody- I’m t e r r i f i e d of commitment so this should be easy. Gonna add some extra extra for plot, but you already know. I will also be recreating the same fight i had with my actual S/O except for Draco doesn’t suck.

     Warning: Uh commitment issues, possible cursing, child neglect, Draco being a sad boy.

     House: Slytherin hiss hiss.

   ♡~🐍~♡

   “Wait your dad refused to feed you?” your friend said in a hushed tone. You look around nodding slowly and wipe your remaining tears. Yeah your dad didn’t exactly like the fact that you were a witch. Called you a sinner and whatnot a refused to acknowledge your existence. 

   “It’s whatever” you shrug, used to the neglect by now.  “Shouldn’t you like- Tell Draco? He is your boyfriend” they suggest. You shake your head quickly, fear bubbling in you. “No. Last time i told my significant other about my dad they used to to control me. You know that” you rush out. 

   Your friend sighs, leaning there head back. “So please don’t tell him” a pleading look was present in your eyes. “Draco isn’t like the last person. Sooner or later you have to open up to him.” you knew they were right, but it was just too hard for you to handle at the moment. 

   “please just let me handle it- what are you looking at?” “Isn’t that your boyfriend coming over?” your friend asked. Turning your head to the right you see the platinum blond boy indeed walking over to you, causing your heart to thump against your chest. 

   Your friend sends you a wink before turning on the heels of there feet and walking away. The sly Slytherin places his hand on the wall above your head, signature smirk plastered on his face. “Hey darling-” his face falls as he notices your puffy eyes “Have you been crying?”

   shaking your head, you muster up a smile “Oh yeah sorry. I hit my foot on the edge of the door. Really hurt i guess” you blurt out. ‘wow, i’m getting better at excuses’ his grey eyes study your expression, seemingly trying to find anything that would raise suspicion. “Is your foot alright?

   giving him a nod, you smile reassuringly. “Yeah it’s fine. Thank you for worrying though. You big softie” you push his shoulder lightly. He rolls his eyes, grabbing the hand that pushed you to interlock your fingers. A pink hue dusted your cheeks as he raises up to kiss your hand softly “Good”

   “i have to head to charms, i’ll see you later Dray” you speak softly. He pouts for a moment before letting your hand go. “Okay, i’ll see you at lunch darling” he nods and presses a quick kiss to your lips before he watches you walk away from him, his smile falling. ‘Why are you lying to me Y/n?’

   ♡~🐍~♡

   you take a seat next to Draco, placing your bag on the floor next to your feet. “Hey Y/n” Pansy says giving you a small smile which you return kindly. You watch as the food appears on the table. You grab a serving spoon and began to place food on your plate. “How was charms?” Draco asked suddenly.

   you pick up your fork and shrug “Pretty normal. Except for Neville Longbottom making his chair levitate” you chuckle and Draco does as well as he begins to eat. As you were about to take a bite you feel someone tap lightly on your shoulder. 

   you turn around to meet the gaze of professor Mcgonagall. You smile politely and she does as well “Ms. L/n, can i speak with you for a just a moment?” she asked and you nodded slowly, feeling the eyes of your Slytherin friends boring holes into the back of your head.

   she smiles and walks away from the table. Without looking at Draco, you stand up and follow her. She stops a few feet away from the table and pulls out a piece of paper. “Now, from what you told me about your situation with your father. Dumbledore is willing to have you stay at school until the end of your 7th year”

   you raise a brow and cross your arms a bit uncomfortably. “what about my dad, won’t he like, come looking for me?” you say and the professor nods slowly “You want nothing to do with him, correct and have no other family?” she asked, repeating what you had told her in a previous conversation.

   you nod and she smiles lightly “We’ll simply send someone to obliviate his memories of you. No one should have to go through what you do.” she says and you give a bright smile. “thank you professor” you thank her and she nods before walking away. 

   you unfold the paper and it stated that your new legal guardian would be snape since he was head of your house and over breaks you would stay at Hogwarts or at his residence. It seemed fine to you, anything seemed better than your actual father.

   folding the paper back up, you slip it into your robe pocket and head back over to the Slytherin table. Taking a seat next to Draco again, you notice his stare on you “Yes?” you say and he gestures to your robe “What did Mcgonagall give you?” he asked and you shrug.

   “I forgot my Transfiguration notes in her class so yeah” you say quickly. Draco eyes you up and down like before before smiling lightly “well look at you being forgetful” he teases. You roll your eyes, nudging your shoulder with his “yeah yeah whatever” you say and he leans over to press a kiss to your temple.

   ♡~🐍~♡

   you chewed your nail nervously as you stared at the students getting on the train. You were so screwed now. It was the last day before break and Draco knew how strict your dad was and wanted you home each break. Now you stayed at Hogwarts so you see the problem, right?

   you haven’t thought of a good excuse yet so while you were waiting you were thinking as well. “Y/n? Where are your things?” you hear someone ask from behind you. ‘shit’ you face the confused pale boy with a nervous smile “I’m staying at Hogwarts for break. My dad is busy”

   “but your dad has never let you stay for break in the seven years i’ve known you?” Draco questions. You sigh and shrug your shoulders “i don’t know” he narrows his eyes and grabs your hand, leading away from the crowd of people. When he stops, he looks down at you with an intimidating stare.

   “do you not trust me?” you look up at him and shake your head “I do trust you Dr-” “-no you don’t. Y/n you hide stuff from me. All the time” you could hear the slight anger in his voice beginning to rise and so does he. He takes a step back and takes a deep breath. 

   “Draco. It’s just hard to talk about some things” you explain and he scoffs. “You tell your friend everything about yourself and leave me in the dark. Y/n i’m your boyfriend. I’ve shown you the worst parts of me. My father being a death-eater and my insecurities. Why can’t you do the same!” 

   you sigh and use your hands to rub your face in frustration. “I’m glad you can open up to me like Draco. I really am, but i’m not like that. I’ve done the whole trusting thing and you know where it got me? Being emotionally manipulated for months!” you watch as Draco’s face falls and he looks at you with a frown.

   then that frown turns into a scowl “Who?” “What who Draco?” you question and he waves his hand “who did that to you? Does he go here cause i swear to merlin i’ll kick his ass” he fumes with anger and you roll your eyes “Draco, calm down. It’s not that serious”

   “Of course it is Y/n! They made you uncomfortable to tell me anything! I want to be there for you when your at your worst and they screwed it up!” He shouted and you watched as his anger fueled him in every word. “Draco i-” “You want to know the first thing i thought when i met you?” 

   you blink a couple times before nodding your head “I’m going to marry this girl. I had never even talked to you and i knew i wanted to be with you for the rest of my life. Y/n i love you. I really do, so please talk to me” he pleads. You could see tears forming in the corners of his grey eyes.

   ♡~🐍~♡

   you finally had seen that Draco wasn’t the guy that was going to use anything against you. All he wanted to do was love you and be with you for the rest of his life. So you told him about your dad and you staying at Hogwarts. Draco ended up cancelling the break with his parents and stayed with you.

   you two had grown closer at you felt at peace with him. The wall of uncomfortableness had been broken down by the sly Slytherin and he couldn’t be happier that you finally opened up to him. You also told him you loved him to and that you were sorry that it took so long to say.

   he didn’t care. He said “I would wait years if i had to” while holding your face with both of his hands. You smiled brightly and grabbed his green tie. You pulled him into kiss you tenderly and of course he responded quickly. He kissed you deeply as he cradled your face in his hands.

   ♡~🐍~♡

   Kody- ahhhhhh. Yeah i still have commitment issues and wished this had ended the way it did for me, but eh whateves.

[thewritingginger]

Relief

This isn’t a Holiday prompt request, since I have a bunch of other WIPs I thought I would take a break of those and finish up others ones. So there maybe some back and forth, we’ll see :)

This was a request I got on Wattpad on my Alucard Comfort fic a couple months ago and it was mostly done so... I don’t know too much about Hector’s character but I hope I did him some justice. 

Fandom: Castlevania  Pairing: Hector x GN! Reader Word Count: 2,359 words Warning(s): Kinda sad, comforting Hector, fluff

Enjoy ~

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It has been roughly 4 months since you met the white haired man.

The moment you met him you felt the urge to get near him. Although he was beautiful, it wasn’t his high cheekbones or smooth skin that called you. It was the distant look in his blue eyes, an ocean of sadness. You felt his loneliness from across the room in just one glance. You asked for his name and he hesitated for a moment, like he was contemplating whether or not wanted to be seen more than he had been. ‘Hector.’ Is all he responded with, and the gentle sound of his voice made your soul ring. You smiled and introduced yourself.

Surprisingly enough, he talked to you that night at the bar. Nothing too deep, just menial conversation about your interests and places you’ve both traveled to. But in that short time together you knew it was more than just a ‘talk with a stranger at a bar’ situation.

‘We should meet again.’ you said forwardly. Hector’s eyes studied you for a moment, before responding. ‘I guess that wouldn’t be too miserable.’ You smiled, not just at his words but at the glimmer of something in his eyes that didn’t seem to be there before.

3 months into your meetings, you and Hector had gotten more comfortable around each other. Getting accustomed to your daily presence, one afternoon while the two of you were out on a stroll he asked,

‘Would you care to accompany me home?’ Smiling inwardly you respond casually,

‘Sure.’ With one word you continued your journey in silence, observing the world around you. Following his lead you saw in the distance a lone cottage, made of stone with a smoking chimney and a small garden in front filled with small purple flowers and berries.

Opening the door, you are welcomed with a wall of warmth melting off the cold from outside. Entering the quant space you took a moment to look around as he walked into the kitchen. Having taken off your cloak you drape it on the back of a chair, as you took a seat by the fireplace. He emerged with some water for you both and sat across from you.

That night was the start of what you two came to be.

Hector offered his bed to you that evening. In the middle of the night you got up to get some water. Wrapped in a blanket to fend off the crisp air, you see Hector on the couch under a thin blanket. The fire had died out a few hours before, cooling the room significantly. Forgetting the water you circled around him and crouched down in front of his sleeping face. Taking a moment you took in his being. Laying there, defenseless. Completely free of tension -besides the few shivers that raked through his body - clenching the blanket closer to him. You gently nudge his shoulder a bit, making him stir till he woke in a surprised manner. Sitting up, letting out a deep huff.

‘What’s the matter?’ He asked Eyes squinted, trying to focus on your face.

‘Come lay in your bed, with me.’ You said.

‘N-no that isn’t necessary.’ He stutters a bit, taken aback by your request.

‘You’re shivering out here and two bodies are better than one for gaining warmth.’

He sees that you wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. Sighing a bit he stood up and followed you to his room.

The room was dark, the only source of light came from the moon in the sky. Nothing sat in the room but a bed, a trunk and a small desk with a pile of books next to it. The warm bed called your name once again as a chill ran down your spine. Jumping under the sheets as you were before, you looked over to the forgemaster as he tentatively got under the blankets next to you. His back towards you, a big birth - despite the small size of the bed - between the two of you. Sighing a bit you moved closer to him, wrapping your arm around his broad shoulders. You felt his muscles tense a bit from your touch.

A long moment passes. Silence.

He turned around in your loose grip. His eyes bore into yours. Swimming in his gaze you saw his intensity but you also saw fear. Not the kind of fear you have when there's a monster before you. But the fear you feel when presented with a moment that may change everything, uncertain if for the better or worse.

‘You don’t have to be scared.’ You told him with your eyes.

A wave of compulsion washed over you, leaning forward you gently placed your lips against his. Stunning him, but he didn’t pull away. He kissed you back, deepening the kiss between you.

You both knew that this was the beginning of something between you two. A new chapter in both your lives. Uncertainty waved in the air, but neither one of you paid it mind just enjoyed the shared moment of warmth.

From that night onward everyday was filled with adventures and errands and nights spent listening to the sound of his voice. Telling stories about his life before you, as you fell asleep.

~~~

“Is this what it’s like?” He asks. You stop stirring the pot of food to look at him. His question perplexed you. Coming out of nowhere, unsure of what it was pertaining to. Hector is resting in the armchair by the fireplace beside you, book in hand, just staring at you in thought.

“Is what, like this?” You ask with a chuckle as you put the lid on the pot.

Hector looks down running his free hand through the back of his silver locks. His gaze not meeting yours again. You sit on the couch in front of him, waiting for his answer.

“Having a family.”

His three word answer made your heart hurt a bit. Walking over to him you sit on his lap, draping your legs over the arm of the chair. Resting your arm on his shoulder as you gently stroke his hair, looking at the side of his face. His gaze, still not meeting yours. You bring your other hand up to cradle his cheek in your palm slowly drawing his eyes up to yours.

His face painted in embarrassment. Eyes glistening, sadness threatening to seep out.

There’s that look again.

That uncertainty in his cerulean eyes. Debating whether or not he should continue. Biting his lips together he looks down at the space between you. 

“I ask because ~” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I never had a real family.” His words come out in a rough whisper.  “Why do you say it like you’re ashamed?” You ask with a slight laugh. “Because of what I did.” He responds, somberly. You stopped smiling, knowing you can’t laugh him through this one.

This one was serious.

Not unlike the time he told you where he was inside himself after the death of Dracula.

“What do you mean, ‘what you did’?” You asked, hesitantly.

He shakes his head, peeling your hand off his neck. Lifting you off his lap as he stands.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” He says.

Before you can say anything Hector rushes out the front door. Leaving you to stand there, looking at the old wooden door, shocked and saddened by the events that just transpired.

A few hours had passed. The sun had already made its descent from the day and Hector still hasn’t come back.

The cottage was silent, nothing but the cracking of the fire and heavy pants of Cezar. The undead pug, keeping you company in your newly shared bed. Your head rests upon the pillow, stained with drying tears. ‘Did I do something wrong?’ you asked yourself. Turning to Cezar, scratching behind his remaining ear. “What about you Cezar, do you know what happened?” The pug just barks in response. 

‘Well it was worth a shot.’ you thought.

Wrapped in the blankets and Cezar nestled beside your chest, beginning to drift to sleep you hear someone at the front door. Opening your eyes you sit up, waking the pup. That’s when you heard heavy steps coming closer to the door of the bedroom. You turned over, pretending to be asleep as you heard the door creak open.

The mattress, shifting from his weight on the other side.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

“I’ve been too much of a coward to show you all of me. Afraid of what you would think if you knew who I was. Who I am.” His words, a low hum as if he is talking to himself.

You turn over to see his back. His face planted in his palms. Your movements make him freeze.

“You’re awake.” He says. His voice, shaky.

“And you came back.” You said, sounding more surprised than intended.

“Yeah…” He lets out a half-hearted laugh.

There’s that silence again, a long stretch of time as you both hold your breaths.

“I should’ve told you this sooner. That way I wouldn’t have wasted so much of your ti~ ” You cut him off.

“Don’t say that you. You‘ve never even come close to being a waste of time to me.” You say, hoping he believes your words to be true and not just a pretty sentiment  to make him feel better.

Sitting up to prop yourself against your extended arm you say, “Whatever it is I’m sure it’s ~”

“I killed my parents.” He interrupts. Blurting the word out to make himself finally say it. “I-I killed my parents.” He repeats much quieter this time, almost to himself.

You take a second to swallow what he just told you. Fiddling with the sheets in your fingers trying to think of something to say but you don’t know what to say. So you stay quiet.

“It wasn’t out of malice, if that makes it easier for you to look at me.” He says. His words coated in worry.

Worry of what you will say. What you would call him. And most of all what you will do.  

Will you leave him? Like everyone always has. He wouldn’t blame you.

Another moment passes in the tense silence. He sighs in acceptance that you are through. He gets up to leave but you grab his hand from behind. Your soft touch sparked against his skin. Looking down at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“Stay.” Is all you said. Just one word glued a few pieces of his world back together. He sits back down, this time facing you.

“Why? After what I said, why would you want me to stay?” He asks

“Cause you haven’t told me the whole story.” You say.

He looks in your eyes curiously. “Y-you want to know… why does it matter to you?” He questions as he shakes his head slightly.

“Because you said it wasn’t out of malicious intent, so there had to be a reason. Right?” You offer a small curve of your lip.

Looking at you through his lashes. He says a soft “Ok.”

Clearing his throat. Hector then went on to tell you about his home-life as a child, if you could call it that.

The retellings of how his parents would treat him and their greed. The images he painted made your stomach turn a bit.

“At the time I felt I needed to. Like I had no choice.” He says, his words somber.

Reaching out you pull Hector towards you. He willingly falls into your embrace. His head resting on your chest. Soothingly combing your fingers through his silver strands, he holds your free hand in his.

“Even still now I don’t know if I would do anything differently.” He sighs, being thoughtful with his choice of words.

“I have no remorse for what I did.” He lets out an airy chuckle. “Y/n, have I become the very people I grew to despise.? The ones I’ve set my life out to rid the world of?” You think about his question. With confliction rising within you.

“Hector I’m not blind to the fact that you have done less than savory things and others might disagree but…” You pause, retracting your hand from his to guide his chin up to meet your gaze.

“That doesn’t make you a monster.”

Those words rang through his head, pulling a tear from his sockets. Coming from you it was everything he needed at that moment. For years battling with the idea that he is no better than the people who take and hurt others for their own gain, now settles a bit.

He kisses you. The idea that you were just being gentle with him didn’t go unthought about, but that didn’t matter to him. What did matter was you. Someone in his life that wants to be there. What did he do to deserve such a blessing? Was it by chance? And if so, will is this only be a fleeting moment in both your lives. Here one minute and gone the next?

Or could it be the stars aligned. Some cosmic deity put you together knowing he needed someone. Needed you.

Whatever it is, whatever put you in his arms. He couldn’t think of anything else but, “Thank you.” He says. Tears stinging his eyes. Looking up at you with his tear stained cheeks, his large hand cupping your cheek.

“Thank you.”

Those being the only two words he could speak. Saying them like a prayer. Leaning forward you connect your lips to his. The wetness of his cheeks touch yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him closer.

You fall back to the matters. He hovers above you, his fingers playing with your soft locks. His eyes looking at you with certainty. Certainty that you are real. That you will love him. And that you will be his forever.

In that comfortable silence he lays his head against your chest once again. Your fingers stroking his hair as he listens to the steady tempo of your heart beat and drifts to sleep.

Peacefully~. 

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I hope you enjoyed reading this lovelies :3

💛 ~

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