#i wasn’t like holding a grudge or wishing harm on them

[oatlystrawberryicecream]

the person who hurt me is dead and it is sheer bliss. because of how unambiguously good that has been for me personally and the world in general, having first hand knowledge of the burden that has been lifted, i can’t view jason’s ‘either i kill the joker or you shoot me in the face’ thing as unreasonable. i will never be able to untangle my experience with the idea of what jason deserves. i can’t fully put into words what it has meant to me to know the person who caused me so much harm will never be able to hurt anyone again but sitting here thinking about it how could i deny anyone who has been through some harrowing ordeal the peace that i have now? it just cannot be morally wrong for jason to kill the joker no matter how i look at it.

[ciarkat]

It’s interesting to discover who you are at your core. Who you are when you’re alone with your thoughts. No one to judge you or hold you to any moral standards. Where you’re allowed to entertain your darker thoughts. I feel that, as I grow and heal, more often than not my moral standards naturally lean towards good. I have so much compassion and empathy, that I forgive just about anyone, no matter how wrong they have done me. Even when I’m alone with my thoughts. I consider circumstances, I consider a persons life experiences, I consider the psychology of their actions. Learning about myself, that I am annoyingly positive also explains it. I wouldn’t go as far as to call myself an optimist, though I’ve tried it out, I still consider myself a realist. Yet, the flighty, imaginative, willfully naive, hopeless, head in the clouds, dreamer side of me that only wants to see the world in peace and harmony always always always wins.

I’m laying here at 1am thinking about my parents. Both of them were diagnosed with cancer recently. Both of which seem pretty serious. And all the things I wish I could say to them before they go, things that probably would help heal me. It goes something like, you absolutely destroyed me and I just want to know why. I am, a broken, lost, scared, and lonely human. And when I think back to when I was little, to some of my first memories, who I’ve become as I’ve healed, as I’ve begun to learn who I am again, is the exact same little girl who never understood why i deserved so much pain. I still have the biggest heart, I still feel fulfilled by helping others, by spreading love, by seeing other people happy, successful, and thriving. I never feel envious, it never makes me feel bitter. When I think about the people who have wronged me, it makes me happy to think of them growing and healing too because at the end of the day we all want the same thing, to feel fulfilled, whatever it means to each of us.

Thinking about my parents dying, while it doesn’t devastate me, it also doesn’t bring me joy to know they’re suffering. I keep feeling like I’m not reacting enough, like I’m not reacting properly, like I should care more. When my mother calls me crying, I feel.. uncomfortable. I feel empty. I keep searching for something to say, everything feels so insignificant, and disproportionate. I really want to care, I really want to be empathetic and compassionate. I don’t know if this just goes to show how deep rooted my trauma is. I am not someone who holds grudges by any means. I feel like something inside me is just broken when it comes to my parents. I have no patience for evil people. Maybe it’s because I feel like they don’t care or acknowledge the cruelty they forced upon me as an innocent child.

My development started with not understanding why these people hurt me, were always angry and upset with me, and all I remember thinking as a 6 year old child was how I would do literally anything to please these people, to make the pain stop and yet to this day I don’t know what I could have done differently. At the age of 7, I had a teacher ask me about the marks all over my body, the welts and the bruises, and without hesitation I came up with a lie on the spot, to protect the people who were stupid and cruel enough to leave marks up and down my body. Luckily I’ve never been a good liar, so my reward was having to occasionally strip down for these two strangers who would search my body for marks because their job was to protect children from harm. They weren’t around for long though.

By 8, the suicidal thoughts had started. So I decided to kill myself the only way I knew how, by holding my breath. I would hold and hold and hold until I was lightheaded and blue in the face. I never so much as passed out but I like to think of how funny it would be now, to think back on when i would have woken up from trying to stop breathing because I wasn’t even old enough to understand that you can’t kill your self by holding your breath.

I would go on to face years of abuse - verbal, mental, physical, sexual, torture, neglect. Witnessing an unstable marriage, substance abuse, domestic violence, and financial instability. I started to abuse myself even, the self mutilation, the starving, the suicide attempts. The incessant daydreaming, dissociating, escaping into my head to avoid my reality.

And here I am worrying about if I’m not being empathetic and compassionate enough to the people who never showed me an ounce of mercy. I am told often that I’m too forgiving, that I let people go too far, I let people come back even after everything that transpired, that pushed me far enough to remove them from my life. I blame having to regularly endure abuse and having to wake up every day and tell those people I loved them, the people who were chipping away at my soul, who were changing me into this dark, ugly, empty, and angry creature.

Let me be clear, that I wasn’t someone who broke rules. I never skipped school, I never talked back, never snuck out, I never drank alcohol or did drugs, I never had sex. I buried my nose in books, I memorized Taylor Swift albums, and I tried to exist as little as possible. I never asked for a dime of money in my life, I never asked for clothes, shoes, makeup, toys, electronics. It still begs the question of, what did I possibly do to deserve it.

The icing on the cake is that these people didn’t even conceive me. They adopted me. It’s not even like they were stuck with a child they didn’t want.

[forjustice]

Response to Star / @cxncrie's Apology

Hello, Star. It’s me, Tian–I go by Yue now. I just wanted to acknowledge your apology to me and everyone else and tell you that I appreciate you taking the time to reflect on your actions. Before I get to why I accept it though, I also wanted to take a bit of time to tell you how I felt about the dramas that happened 2 years ago.

For the rest of you reading: I will not describe exactly what happened, because I have agreed not to air the details publicly or even spread word of them privately. I will say though, Star: I felt used, and I felt you were using my dead friend Stormy too. I felt as though you were using my grief at Stormy’s death and my existing strong dislike of the individuals you gave me dirt on to further your own vengeance against them–when it was in fact you who had done them wrong and not the other way around. I felt as though you conveniently forgot to tell me key information about the situation you got me involved in; if I heard about the neutrality agreement between the two disputing groups, one of which we had hoped to expose, that would have changed my mind about exposing them. Worst of all, once I began to believe you had done all this, I knew I had to leave the friendship–but I was so scared of a possible retaliation for it that I was scared to cut you off. 

I will be apologizing privately to the individuals affected as soon as my real life situation allows; I would have done it in this post, but if they and I are to actually address all the issues between us there is a much bigger history and a whole ‘nother can of worms that I don’t want to get into here. For now, I just want to close this part by saying these are the main reasons why I silently removed you from my Discord.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t still rather wary. I certainly do not want to reconnect. This is because when we first connected you made it seem like you were trying to improve from past toxic behaviors and I believed you–when in reality you were still trying to perpetrate the same toxic behaviors you had before. That is a breach of my trust which forever closes the door on any sort of reconnection or friendship. However, I read much of your apology document, and I wanted to applaud you for 1) truly acknowledging the harm you have dealt to your victims at last, 2) apologizing without making excuses, and 3) showing you actually wish to put action into your promises of self-improvement by taking a break from Tumblr so that you can better yourself. This is a huge step in the right direction for you that must have taken a lot of courage in the face of painful introspection, and I am more inclined than not to believe it is genuine. It is not easy for me to accept your apology, but I know that one of my biggest faults is holding onto grudges and the past–which is a fault that got me into this whole mess in the first place. Therefore, I accept.

I wish you the greatest success in your journey toward healing and self-improvement. Take it from someone who went (and is still on) one of her own: It will be long, and difficult, and nonlinear, but it will be so, so worth it.

All the best,

月

[miguenhasthoughts]

03/27

I didn’t need to hide. I was able to enjoy things. Sam and I felt normal again. I didn’t feel sad today. It’s been a trend every day that there at least be a good couple hours where I felt so so hollow. Today though I felt good. I put my hair in a pretty purple bun. Wore a complimentary oversized cool tone tshirt. Leggings on for once with big boots. I felt so girly and dainty. I had to drive so my glasses had to stay one. I don’t know how I feel about the makeup and glasses combo yet but it feminizes my face at least. My hips are bigger. My chest too. They are sooooo sore right now ☠️ it was rainy for the date. I wish I had a more girly jacket but I made it work. The rain kind of fucked my hair, it always frizzes up but luckily Danae gave me stuff that fights the frizz back down.

My date didn’t seem to mind. It was just coffee. Well they got hot chocolate but the can’t chocolate was 🔥 It was nice date. I had them laughing. It was easy to get them to talk about themselves and their interests. It was wholesome. Got to hear about their favorite animal and their work, they love horror movies and cosplay. They seem multi talented in costume design and bartending so that was rad to hear about. They had a hard time following up after the questions were answered. So that was something that was awkward for me. I didn’t know when I should jump in with stuff about me. Yet that’s okay. Today I felt kind of free not worrying about my feelings.

I have two cats. Snot and Jynx. Snot was being a huge butt today. He stole broccoli from my plate. He never eats his veggies so I didn’t take it away despite the bad manners. He ate the whole thing too. He was still trying to thieve from my plate so we gave him some new snacks. When his sister seemed interested (which is rare because she hates snacks.) we tried to give her some. Snot did not like that and tried to butt in. When I picked him up to give his sister a chance. He actually cried with tears because she was eating his snack. She only took one bite. He’s such a brat. I zonked out immediately after.

I actually enjoyed today and I got to relax. I’m still self harming a bit by not eating a sufficient amount of food each day. I tried to be better today but when I ate some food it made me feel ill. So I guess baby steps to recovery.

Danae came over today and I thanked them for talking to me last week. They really hammered in how I kept making excuses for Micah and I wasn’t holding them culpable of their handling of the break up. It finally helped me to put myself as more of a priority and I think I finally am healing from it all. I still home they reach out but I’m not so sure what that would look like or feel like. One thing is for certain. It’ll require work to feel amicable again. I’m not one to hold grudges but being honest to someone on how they hurt you isn’t a grudge I guess. It’s something that depends on how you both work on building a new relationship with new boundaries and hopefully better communication.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

what you see is not the dark

For this week's Witcher Quick Fic, I wrote a Yennefer-focused post-season 2 fic. You can read it here on AO3 or find the first few scenes below.

Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer; Ciri & Yennefer; Tissaia & Yennefer

Rating: M

Warnings: Canon-typical violence; flashback to Yennefer's season 1 suicide attempt; hallucinated child death

Summary: In the aftermath of the battle with Voleth Meir, Geralt, Jaskier, Yennefer and Ciri retreat to a seaside cottage to hide from those who wish Ciri harm and to heal. Yennefer rebuilds her relationship with Geralt, gets to know Ciri, and lets the new romance between herself and Jaskier bloom. She has her chaos back. For the first time in years, all is well.

But when an unexpected betrayal rocks Yennefer to her core, she starts to realize that her mind may no longer be her own.

Excerpt: When they leave Kaer Morhen, there’s still blood on the cobblestones in the great hall.

“Just like you to leave us with all the clean up, you asshole.” Lambert slaps Geralt on the shoulder with enough force to topple most men. In the two days Yennefer has been at Kaer Morhen, she’s learned that calling people assholes is the closest thing the redheaded witcher has to a love language. “What the fuck are you going to do now?”

Geralt raises an eyebrow at his brother. “Probably safer if you don’t know that.”

Lambert doesn’t like that answer, which he lets Geralt know emphatically.

Yennefer and Jaskier stand at the edge of the great hall and watch what’s left of the witchers of Kaer Morhen say goodbye to each other and to Ciri. “Where will you go?” Jaskier asks in an undertone.

“We’ll find somewhere safe,” Yennefer says.

“Is there anywhere on the Continent that will be safe for her?” Jaskier is rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. She can’t tell if it’s a new habit or an old one; she never paid much attention to what the bard did with his fingers before now. She healed his burnt fingers as soon as she was done healing the witchers’ injuries after the fight with Voleth Meir, but he keeps looking down at his hands like he doesn’t quite believe it.

“I don’t know,” Yennefer admits. “But if there is, we’ll find it.”

Jaskier flashes a ghost of his usual smile. “Well, before you go, if you wouldn’t mind making me a portal to Oxenfurt, I’d appreciate it. Now that we’re friends, I trust I don’t have to worry about you portaling me to some monster-infested swamp?”

“I would never inflict you on a perfectly good swamp,” Yennefer says. “Anyway, don’t be a fool, bardling. You’re coming with us.”

“And why would I do that?”

“The fire fucker is still out there.”

Jaskier looks away, expression shuttering. ���I doubt he’ll come for me again. He didn’t get what he wanted out of me the first time.”

“Except now he has good reason to hold grudges against Geralt and against me,” Yennefer says. “If he can’t find us, he may decide that you’ll do as someone to take his anger out on.”

Jaskier begins rubbing his fingers together again. “Ah, well, I suppose you shouldn’t tell me where you’re going then. I held out quite heroically the first time, though I admit to shedding some manly tears when he wasn’t look—”

“You’re coming with us.” Yennefer puts enough steel in her voice to let him know that she’s not joking.

Jaskier glances over at Geralt, who is embracing Coën. His mouth wobbles ever so slightly. “I would hate to be an imposition.”

“You’ll be far more of an imposition if I have to come save your life again.”

“Yenn—”

Yennefer grabs his arm, looking him dead in the eye. “There was a family in Sodden that took Ciri in for just a night right after Cintra fell. She portaled us to their house when we fled the Temple of Melitele. The fire fucker had found them. They were burnt alive.”

He grimaces.

“You’re coming with us,” Yennefer says again, remembering those twisted, burnt bodies and the gaping mouths, the way they’d been huddled together, like they were trying to shelter each other in their last moments.

Jaskier’s throat bobs and he nods. “Okay.”

“What’s going on?” Ciri asks, joining them. Geralt is on her heels.

“Jaskier’s coming with us,” Yennefer says, more to Geralt than to Ciri. She doesn’t think he’ll protest, but it’s hard to tell with him.

Geralt blinks, like he doesn’t even understand why this is a discussion. “Of course he is.”

Jaskier makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, without any trace of humor in it.

“Where are we going?” Ciri looks between the three of them, brow furrowed.

Yennefer glances down at the blood on the cobblestones. “Somewhere no one will find us.”

***

“Home sweet home.” Jaskier looks around the cottage with his hands planted on his hips, projecting the air of an explorer who’s just discovered a new continent. “Well, ‘sweet’ may be an overstatement.”

Yennefer rolls her eyes at him. The cottage is perfectly serviceable for their needs. It’s a three-room house on a remote stretch of coast in Kovir, long abandoned for reasons unknown. It’s dusty and the roof is in need of repair, but it’s structurally sound. Most importantly, no one will think to look for them here; none of them have any links to Kovir. “What were you expecting, bardling?”

“Well, witch, since you were the one who procured this abode, I expected gingerbread walls and children roasting in ovens.” Jaskier winces. “Too soon?”

A few short weeks ago, when she encountered him in Oxenfurt, she would have snapped back, responding to his accidental cruelty with purposeful cruelty. A few short weeks ago, his cruelty wouldn’t have been so accidental. The bard is exactly the same exasperating, arrogant, foolish ass that he’s been in all the years that she’s known him, but at some point in the last few weeks, he became her exasperating, arrogant, foolish ass. She no longer bristles at his barbs, because she can hear the affection behind them.

“No more or less tasteless than everything else that comes out of your mouth,” is all she says.

“Tasteless?” He makes a show of acting offended, because everything is a show with the bard. “I’ll have you know, Yennefer of Vengerberg, that I am renowned for my good taste.”

“Only because you normally travel with Geralt. Comparatively, an endrega has good taste.”

Jaskier throws his head back to laugh, even though the joke really wasn’t that funny. “And here I thought we were becoming friends, my dear.”

Yennefer is about to fire back when the door to the cottage opens and Geralt and Ciri step inside. The laughter abruptly silences on Jaskier’s lips and Yennefer feels her own spine stiffen of its own volition. Geralt’s gaze flickers about the room cautiously, as if he expects to find a threat lurking in every dusty corner. Standing behind him, Ciri watches a spider weaving its web on the ceiling with disgust, like the girl didn’t just spend a winter in a crumbling fortress.

“It’s the best I could find on such short notice.” Yennefer hates the note of defensiveness that creeps into her voice. “I can’t exactly take over a wealthy merchant’s home or a noble’s manor without drawing attention to us, now can I?”

“It’s fine, Yenn.” Geralt offers her a small smile and she feels her shoulders relax just a fraction.

“It needs a bit of love, that’s for sure.” Jaskier looks around with a too-bright smile, the same expression he’s been wearing whenever Geralt is in the room for the past week. “But it’s nothing we can’t handle with a bit of elbow grease.”

“Or magic.” Ciri looks at Yennefer hopefully.

Yennefer shakes her head. “If I clean this place up with magic, it won’t be real. It will just be an illusion of cleanliness.”

“Does it matter?” Ciri asks.

“Yes,” Yennefer says. Her voice comes out rougher than she means it to, crueler.

There’s a beat of silence, broken as always by Jaskier. “Where do we start then?”

***

“Where do we start?” he asks again much later, after the cottage is as clean as it’s going to be after a single day’s work, Ciri is abed, and Geralt, Jaskier, and Yennefer are gathered in front of the hearth, passing around a bottle of truly foul gin.

“Start with what?” Geralt asks.

“I don’t even know.” Jaskier shrugs. “I’ve never been on the run from Nilfgaard and the Wild Hunt and gods only know who else before, especially not with a thirteen year old princess in tow. What are we going to do?”

Geralt passes Yennefer the bottle. “Yennefer and I are going to continue teaching Ciri how to defend herself.”

“And me?” Jaskier asks.

Geralt’s lips quirk. “I’ve been offering to teach you how to defend yourself for decades, Jask.”

A smile flickers across Jaskier’s face. “I’ve always told you, my greatest defense is my pretty face.”

Yennefer remembers Jaskier’s screams as the fire fucker burned him. His pretty face didn’t do him a damn bit of good then. “You’re here because when you’re here, you’re not out there getting into trouble. And Ciri just spent an entire winter trapped in a castle with a bunch of witchers. She could use some civilized company.”

Jaskier flutters his eyelashes at her. “ Civilized. Now, that’s the greatest compliment you’ve ever paid me.”

“It’s probably a stretch.”

Jaskier plucks the bottle of gin out of her hand and takes a swig. “How long do we think we’ll be safe here?”

Geralt is watching the bard with an expression that Yennefer can’t quite read. She’s never been sure whether Geralt and Jaskier were fucking or if Jaskier just wished they were. Before, she never particularly cared. But with the way Geralt’s eyes go soft whenever he looks at Jaskier, she thinks that the bard may not be the only one harboring a not-so-secret desire.

“I don’t know,” Geralt says quietly. “I was sure we would be safe at Kaer Morhen. We weren’t. I was sure we’d be safe at the Temple of Melitele. We weren’t safe there either.”

Yennefer stares into the dying fire in the hearth, trying not to think of all the ways she was complicit in making the Temple of Melitele not safe for Ciri. “They’ll find us here eventually. My hope is that Ciri will be able to control her own chaos by then. Once she can harness her own powers, she’ll be near unstoppable.”

“Let’s hope.” Jaskier puts the gin down on the table with a thud. “Because I imagine that the two of you are probably damn tired of saving my life. It will be her turn next.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and Yennefer snorts. Jaskier meets her eyes and winks broadly. Yennefer can only shake her head, exasperated. The world is changing around them so fast that she can hardly keep up. But in this little cottage, with the ridiculous bard and the only slightly less ridiculous witcher, she feels strangely at peace.

***

Read the rest on AO3

[cjjohansson]

NONE OF THIS WAS MEANT TO HAPPEN- PART 2

NATASHA ROMANOFF x BLACKWIDOW!READER

SUMMARY; After being apprehended by the Avengers and growing closer to Natasha, you let slip a secret she didn't know you knew. What happens when she realises you know the truth?

WARNINGS; mentions of abuse, swearing, previous suicide attempt, self harm, self doubt, mental health, smoking, drinking. sad natasha.

-PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION-

WORD COUNT; 4.5K

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“So you’re telling me Yelena lied?”

Natasha didn’t expect this. She hadn't heard that name for a while now, not since destroying the Red Room herself with the help from her but since then nothing but radio silence. She thought Yelena was too busy still trying to free other widows but she knew from finding you and helping you Yelena hadn't finished her mission yet. But she was confused at how you knew Yelena and still had her in your mind even through the torture of the mind control and manipulating you had experienced. She continued staring at you, she didn't know what to do or say to you.

“So was she lying or not Natasha?” your voice came through her ears making her refocus. Your voice sounded desperate to know the truth, you needed to know the truth.

“I don't know what you’re talking about y/n.” Nat knew she should tell the truth, why was she still hiding this part of her past from you, no one knew about the help she had received when destroying the red room but no one knew her as well as you. Only knowing each other for this short amount of time you both opened up in different ways, it was freeing for Natasha to see someone who went through the same pain as she did and it helped guide her in helping you. Knowing if she could help you it’d help herself, she still saw all the red in her ledger but she was determined to wipe it in hopes she could help you wipe yours. She knew how you felt about the terrible things you did under control and for all the years up until now. She knew you shared the same pain. Apart from you only had Natasha. Slowly growing more open with the team but Natasha had you AND the team, the team she had grown so close with over the years to now finally call her family. But still the lie fell from her lips like it was a simple song.

“You’re lying, I know you're lying and I don't understand why it's me Natasha!” your voice only grew louder the more frustrated you got.

“I still remember holding Yelena the day you managed to escape the Red Room, I remember her crying and having to keep her quiet at night so no one saw her and thought she was weak! She constantly fell asleep holding the only memory she had left of you. But it all stopped months after I was taken from her in my sleep being transferred to a new location! I remember mouthing to her ‘it’ll be ok, we will find eachother again’ but after that nothing. I cannot even remember how long ago that was now Natasha, the years after being put through the mind control barely anything feels real. It was all confusing at the time trying to work out who this girl was that I kept seeing in my dreams and anytime I asked them it would only end in a beating. I knew not to ask anymore. But I remember being sent on this mission to kill you Natasha! I remember after I finally woke up again and saw your face that this person in front of me will help because my friend never gave up hope in you! It was like all I could see was Yelena and this random blue haired girl!”

“I'm not lying. I don't know who or what you're talking about!” another lie, slipping past her lips like it was nothing. Her lies only fueled you with more anger and frustration. Her face just stayed staring at you like she was trying to burn the lie into your head. You thought you knew her, but the person who was standing in front of you now lying was most definitely not the same person you shared a kiss with only moments ago.

“You said I could trust you Natasha. You might be able to get away with lying to the team but you're forgetting we were taught to lie by the same people. I can see straight through you.” your voice hit back at her laced with venom, she could see the disappointment in your eyes. You slowly turned to leave, you couldn't stand here with her right now knowing she was lying. How could she lie to you after everything she has helped you with over the last few months. You thought you loved her, you thought she might have loved you. You got off the bed and walked towards the door, you couldn't be here right now.

“Y/n/n wait.” she grabbed your wrist, stopping you from reaching the door, the same wrist that was littered in a big scar from the time you woke up. Her touch burnt, all she received from you was a flinch and you pulling your wrist from her touch.

“Don't you dare fucking touch me Natalia! Only moments ago I thought I finally had someone I could trust, someone who would keep me safe. But now all I see is the Black fucking Widow stood infront of me. So no Natalia, I won't wait. I won't stand here while you lie to me straight through your teeth. I wont stand here while you tell me you don't know who or what i’m talking about when I held that some person for months through her fucking tears because her so called sister left without her! I picked up the pieces you fucking ruined and now you expect me to stand here and think that you're telling me the truth and Yelena lied all those years? You expect me to think the voice in my head the day I woke up after I slit my wrist wide open telling me to trust you is fucking lying? Because if it was lying I wish, I fucking wish I let myself bleed out right then and there.” You knew you hit her then, like your voice was so loud filling the room like it was pounding in her ears. She knew you were right that it wasn’t her standing in front of you but was the Black Widow trying to manipulate her targets for information. Before she could even reply, the sound of the door slamming brought her back to focus. She quickly wiped her cheek as she felt the tears slowly falling from her eyes, not even remembering when she had started crying. Why did she lie? Why did she ruin the chances of you? Ruining your trust like it didn't take so much time to try and gain it? What had she done? Her and Yelena were ok now, they had worked on their differences and she had apologised for what had happened all the years ago but why wouldn't she tell you that? She knew Yelena held a grudge and hated her for leaving without her when they finally saw each other again but that wasn't the case now. Everything was different now and the main difference was Natasha finally realising that maybe she was falling for you and she had ruined all her chances in that becoming a reality. She needed to give you space, she knew that if she was to chase you now it would only make you more angry, she knew she needed to figure out how to talk to you and explain why she had done what she had done, until then she couldn't risk seeing you.

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It had been a week since your argument with Natasha. Nothing made sense to you. It was driving you crazy at how she lied to you like you were nothing to her, like you weren't the person she had spent nights laughing with over stupid movies and also crying too when talking about each other's pasts. You had only slept once since then, a few hours after your argument, you had finally made your way back to your room knowing she would have left. You felt exhausted, only moments before your argument you had woken up from a terrible nightmare to then being in the comfort of her arms, to then kissing her to then shouting. It was like the only thing your body wanted to do was sleep right then and there. When you woke up hours later looking at your clock did you see the time read 4am, you had slept for 12 hours and by that point you understood why.

-flashback-

You steadily got out of your bed still feeling disgusted from being in your gym clothes from the day before everything happened, you made your way to the shower knowing you needed to rid all this grime off of yourself. You stood still in the shower letting the water fall off your shoulders like it was the first time you had ever seen water before it felt relaxing. Letting yourself get lost in the feeling of it but still your mind grew to the thought of what it would be like if Natasha was standing behind you right now washing your hair, touching you so delicately like you could break from any sudden movement. It felt too overwhelming. You crumbled to your knees like your body could no longer hold your weight anymore, your tears getting lost within the water that was over your face. It felt like you couldn't breathe, you were trapped in a place with nobody you could trust. Your mind grew dark so quickly, like the only way to get out of this place was to reopen that wrist but she still lingered in your mind, the thought of her finding you on this shower floor was breaking you even more. Why were you still feeling this sympathy for her after everything that had happened. You couldn't do this you needed to get rid of this feeling inside, it felt like your body was on fire, you felt scared and it was something you hadn't felt for a few months now, you had felt safe in her presence to now feeling as if you would leave this room and pass out, you needed it gone. You scrambled up from your feet in a hurry trying to find anything in your bathroom for a release, you remembered Natasha had made sure anything you could hurt yourself with had been removed from your pending room after your incident. There was nothing in here you could even butter bread with, it only made you feel more anger towards her. You stopped looking, taking a deep breath and staring at yourself in the mirror, wiping your hand over the mirror to see yourself clearer due to the fog clinging to it. And that's when you realised this would do. Bringing your clenched fist up to pound into the mirror sending shards flying everywhere, thank god for your enhancements you thought, that brought a light chuckle out of you. Frantically picking a big enough shard off the floor and moving yourself to sit on the toilet you knew this would help. Blood came seeping out of each cut, dripping down your leg and running onto the floor, you knew you'd done enough. The pain you felt inside had felt like it had disappeared more and more after every cut. You moved back into the shower preparing yourself for the sharp stings of pain that would soon follow, washing yourself quickly and exiting your bathroom, closing the door and leaving it shut. You knew you’d had to clean up later but for now you dragged yourself back to your bed in hopes to sleep more even though you knew you wouldn’t.

-end flashback-

You sat on the balcony of the compound still trying to work out how and why this had happened, you hadn't seen her for a week, you knew people had grown suspicious as to why you weren't joint at her hip and instead was constantly wrapped in a blanket on the balcony. The only person to come over and talk to you was Wanda, you would never say much. Only asking her if she could get you some cigarettes from the shop and some vodka, you knew if she said no you could always just ask FRIDAY to get some delivered, but she always came back hours later with the two things you'd asked her for, you always sent her the softest smile with a quiet thank you and she would leave after that. You wondered if she knew she was feeding into your new addictions and a way to stop the pain coming forward. You wondered if you were taking advantage of her but still you never wondered to ask.

-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-

You brought the cigarette up to your lips lighting it quickly, the feeling burning your throat and lungs as you slowly inhale the toxic chemicals it gives out, you had never smoked before this whole thing with Natasha, it wasn't until you had seen someone smoking in a movie did you grow curious of whole thing but now look, it was like you was a natural. Cigarette in one hand, half a bottle of vodka in the other, that is all you've done all week. You only moved from this spot to go to the toilet, not even bothering with food. It wasn't healthy and you knew that, you also knew this was a pathetic way of coping from everything with Natasha but it was helping.

A small cough is what brought you out of your train of thoughts, you looked up towards the door seeing her standing there. You hated how the first thing you thought was how beautiful she looked with the moonlight shining in just the right way. It made her eyes even more beautiful than they already were, you threw your head back to look at the trees across from you, no you needed to be angry at her.

“Smoking isn’t good for you, you know.” you wanted to chuckle at her but the hurt seeping through your veins was too much to deal with, gulping down the growing lump in your throat you continued smoking while staring. She sighed moving to sit opposite you so she constricted your view. You now sit facing her staring into her beautiful emerald orbs hoping the tears don't start to fall.

“I’m sorry” watching her slowly lowering her head after her words, her hands running through her hair, you're sure you heard a slight sniffle but you continued to stare, not caring to reply.

“Please say something, anything” she sounded so vulnerable, so small but you needed an explanation not just an apology. You go to speak but your tears are already threatening to fall so you turn your head to the side gulping down some vodka to ignore the pain.

“I'm not good at apologising, I'm even worse at talking about my past. I did lie. But I shouldn't have. I lied because I didn't want to remember what I did to her back then, the things I did in general back then.” you finally turned to look at her again slowly nodding for her to continue.

“Me and Yelena, we…errrr...we had a mission when we were young. Acting as sisters with two other agents as our parents. It was nice, you know, acting normal. I went from being in the Red Room, to a normal life. To then just be taken back away again. But it was different for her, I tried to not let them take her, she was too young, but like they said, I was younger…” she stayed staring down at her feet, you could tell it was a lot for her to be doing this, you were thankful she was opening up telling you the truth but you could see her discomfort seeping through. Holding out the bottle of vodka for her to take she brought her head up slowly looking at you and then to the bottle. She let out a light chuckle moving to accept the bottle from you and taking a drink. She gave it back, wiping the few tears that had escaped, you thought she was done talking until she sighed and carried on.

“I held her as they took us to the Red Room again, well me again, not her. It was terrifying. I just held her trying to shield her from seeing anything and everything, she just clung to me, sobbing. We were so young and I knew what was going to happen to her and there was nothing more I could do. I knew as soon as we were there she'd be taken from me and I'd never see her again. But I did see her, of course you know I did. It was quick stares walking past each other or it was me looking for her subtly when we would be eating, I couldn't protect her anymore. We could only protect ourselves. Any signs of love, affection or even friendship were frowned upon. How could I comfort her or look after her when everything I wanted to do I would have been punished for? That would have scared her even more. So I kept to myself.”

You didn't know how to react or what to do, the woman who was so continuously strong no matter what was thrown at her was sitting in front of you sobbing, it broke your heart and you knew it was breaking hers.

“Tasha, it's ok. Please.” you couldn't watch her cry anymore but you knew there was so much more she needed to say.

“No, y/n I...I need to do this.” you gave her a small nod, urging her to continue as you swallowed your own tears.

“She got out about 7 months ago too. Things happened and well me, her and our parents, Alexei and Melina. We took down Dreykov, we took down the main Red Room. I found out about all of these other widows that were placed all around the world being controlled. Yelena had this antidote that managed to break widows out of mind control, she found out the hard way what it was but we managed to save the widows that were at that Red Room. We only had one dose left, so with the help from Melina and Alexei they created more so they could go and save all the girls that were left. When you showed up I knew that clearly she hadn't finished the whole mission yet but I knew that 4 months wasn't a lot of time to do that hence why she hadn't reached you yet. I hadn't been in contact with any of them since then, I tried to get in touch but I never received anything back even up until two weeks ago.” she had stopped crying now, she looked more comfortable talking, it released this ache in your heart knowing she was becoming ok. You just wanted to hug her, so you did. You moved quickly, cigarettes and bottle of vodka long forgotten about and settled on her lap. She tensed slightly when you first sat down but soon enough you felt her relax, you just couldn't stop looking at her. Her eyes glassy from the tears she had shed, the light smell of the vodka she had drunk coming out from her lips as she breathed slowly. You just forgot everything that had happened in the past week. You cupped her face making sure all of her attention was on you, leaning in slowly to finally connect your lips in a gentle kiss. You finally moved away when you felt tears dripping down your cheeks, not evening knowing if they were yours or hers. Her hand came to settle on your cheek wiping away the tears that had fallen, the smallest of a smile on her face.

“I went to find them this week.” her words shocking you, making you shake your head confused. She laughed lightly at your reaction.

“Arguing with you just made me realise that I had no clue what was going on, I just left them with this information and took off, so I went to Melinas where I knew one of them would be and saw them there. That's why I had been gone all week.”

You felt relief when something rolled through you, although all this week you had been trying to avoid her, every time you moved from the balcony to the toilets you hoped she would pop out of nowhere. It wasn't until the third day you thought she was actively trying to avoid you too, it's what made you grow more angry. Thinking she just upped and left without a word but you now knew she didn't and suddenly all this anger and pain you felt towards her through the week was gone off your shoulders, but you now hated yourself for the way you reacted, the way you screamed and shouted at her for lying when now you understood why she done what she done out of fear of remembering. You hated yourself for the way you threw yourself into hurting yourself along with smoking and drinking. The guilt settled in your chest, it felt like it was too much to handle once again and you couldn't stop the tears from crashing down, a painful sob falling out of you as you suddenly felt like you could feel your thighs starting to tear and bleed again, like you could feel your throat burning from the bottles of vodka you had consumed and your lungs feeling as if they were suffocating from all the cigarettes you managed to smoke in such a short time.

Natasha reacted quickly, holding you tighter as you tucked yourself into the crook of her neck, a death grip on the back of her shirt as if, if you were to let go, this would all be a dream and she would disappear.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhh it's ok, you're ok, I’m ok. We are ok. I'm here. I'm sorry for what happened and I'm sorry for leaving without explaining. I'm just so sorry.” her words were meant to be comforting but it only made you sob more.

“The things I did when you were gone Tasha, I overreacted. I'm sorry for everything I said that day of our argument. I understand everything now I do and I'm so grateful for you telling me and I'm so happy Yelena is safe. I'm so sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry.” your voice muffled as you sobbed into her neck only made her grow nervous. No one had said anything about you all week when she called to check in on everyone.

“y/n, what happened?” She spoke so softly, one hand stroking small circles at the bottom of your back and the other hand moving to the side of your hair to move your head up so you were looking at her. It made the words you were trying to say even harder seeing how much her eyes showed her concern and worry.

“M...my...my bathroom, I...I...I ruined it, haven't been in my room since you left. I've stayed out here just smoking and drinking Tasha. I felt so angry and hurt and I hate what I did because now I understand why and what happened and I just overreacted so much and all I've done is cause myself pain and I know you don't want to know or even think that but I have. I hurt myself Tasha, I broke my mirror to do it, gosh thats so fucking stupid and it was only the one time and that doesn't make that ok I know that but it hurts so much. I feel like I'm suffocating, this guilt is too much. You've come back to explain and now here I sit crying and making it sound like everything I did this week was your fault but it wasn't. I'm sorry.” you rambled on continuing to sob, her eyes now just looked so sad, it broke you but you couldn't stop the ‘I’m sorrys’ from falling off your lips but she still stayed stroking your back, leaning your foreheads together telling you over and over that it was ok and she forgave you.

Your sobs finally slowly subsided, the exhaustion finally settling in after the week that had gone by so slowly, it consumed you. But Natasha never let up her continuous flow of ‘its oks’ and never failed to tell you ‘I’m here’ until you finally settled in silence. The silence felt comfortable between you, even though the past hour or maybe even longer held so much pain for the both of you. Your grib finally loosens on her t-shirt, moving to sit up straight to look at her.

“Я люблю вас” she blurts out in a hurry, you stayed staring at her in shock. You made no move to reply or even hug her or kiss her, it made her grow nervous. You felt her tense underneath you straight after it came flying out of her mouth.

“It's fine, you don’t need to...umpth” you cut her off short pulling her into an intense kiss, moving to straddle her lap, she moaned softly into you, making you melt. Even through the gentleness it still felt so rough and aggressive, neither of you pulling away until air became a problem.

“я люблю тебя больше моя Наталья”

-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-ⴵ-⧗-

The night seemed to flow so much more calmly after your late night confessions. You both moved to Natashas suite in hopes of getting some more privacy. Your night consisted of movies playing in the background as you both consumed each other with so much love and affection. You knew for sure that no one could ever love you or care for you the way this woman could. It overfilled your heart with so much joy, that even after these years where she was in pain and she blamed herself and the word for everything that had happened to her, that she could still love and feel so deeply. How she could still love you with so much passion in such a short amount of time, when you both grew up being told that it would make you vulnerable and that it was for children.

You knew the way you grew up was terrible and traumatic but in this moment, laying in Natashas arms sharing the smallest of kisses, giggles erupting from both of you, kind words whispered as if anything louder would ruin the moment, you were somewhat grateful that somehow no matter where this life was suppose to take you or what was meant to happen with you, you had never been so happy to have failed your mission against Natasha Romanoff, because right now who knows where you would be or what you was doing. You managed to be so lucky that this woman still accepted you with open arms and made herself vulnerable and somewhere fall in love with you that nothing from your past mattered in this moment. All that mattered was the love you were sharing and the love you can only hope to continue to share into the future.

Maybe ‘None Of This Was Meant To Happen’ but god was you so incredibly happy that it did.

[alberivh]

devotion (ROYAL AU) — pt.1 : realization.

Butler! Diluc X GN!Reader . Royal! childe (as supporting character), butler! Kaeya (supporting cast ; in pt2 story line)

contains : heavy angst, comfort/hurt, isolation, arranged marriage, major character death, mentions of blood, injuries, execution, abusive relationship, abandonment, ‘consumption’, false accusation, blades

summaries : arranged marriage has always been one of your family ruthless tradition. You were allowed to love them you couldn’t reach, yet the feeling of being abandoned once and for all by those who you truly treasured was more than numbness could ever describe. Diluc who’s your lover need to accept this tradition, yet he, himself need to get his life down for your future sake.

A/N : thank you for 100 followers!! It has been a wild ride since i’ve just joined this community. Thank you very much and as a rewards, here’s a token of heavy angst for y’all. I have a really bad writing block right now, so this might took more than you think hehe. So once again, thank you very much! ( i actually hate this, tyvm)

“Your majesty…please allow me to hold y—“

“No. I simply do not have time for people pleaser, please let yourself be out from here..” , you cursed your future-husband out of from your bounties. It startled all of the maids and butlers in your room, it even make your somewhat-fiancé looked awful. You were pissed by him, by the structure of his eyelids, the heavy breathe from who-knows-where and many more part of him you don’t even want to recognize.

There’s no reason to deny that you hate this, all of this, Known as the maiden of the family, you were nothing but their only pry. It pissed you, it really does. How come you are holding the throne at the age of 25? Aren’t you supposed to check your garden instead taking all of your well-behave throne and the awful arranged marriage your family has made? No? What an unlucky person you are, the butlers thought.

“Diluc please guide master tartaglia to the upfront door, i have no intention to see him now. If you already had brought him downstairs, get back to my resident immediately.”

“this is the main reason why everyone despis—“

“Please leave Immediately. My master have no further interest to speak with you, master tartaglia.” Diluc shouted your internal response to the group of scums in front of your sight. He heard enough of this small talk your future-husband has been talking about. Diluc wasn’t jealous, he was simply too disturbed with your disgusted face everytime tartaglia walks around your residence. just how much pressured you had been under to make you act so ruthless in front of the man you’ll called husband in no time?

he silently observing him down the hall. Not wanting to have a talk with a scum like him, he avoid any sights of his ‘particular’ interest. After all, in his eyes, tartaglia doesn’t deserve any part of you. He acts too normally, there diluc suspicion of your fiancé grown. There must be something behind his motive. Tartaglia have recognize diluc’s gaze for a while now. Though, he pretend none of those bothering suspicion triggered his rage. And so, he fired him up with a quick straightforward awareness. Or as the citizen say, A threat.

“mr. Butler..stop loving my future partner or tomorrow you’ll have the consequences..got it? And do not touch them..i’ve warned you when you were alive, i like my future partner to be a virgin ins—“

“master tartaglia i have no relationship with the majesty, how come you assume such a thing from a humble butler like me? I was just simply following orders, hope you could understand, master tartaglia.” , answering his rage. Tartaglia found his emotion drains wild. It look like those bothering emotions he hide finally show diluc their true intention to spoiled you. Diluc’s eyes met your fiancé terrifying visions, the murderous aura in it explains his true intention. Diluc could only plea inside, let my majesty be safe.

“don’t you dare say anything to your master, mr butler. My partner has been mine all along, stay away from our relationship or tomorrow would be your last day…”

“Though, i simply wouldn’t mind, ajax.” , he gurantees tartaglia’s eyes.

The night came. the breeze flew through your open windows, leaving chills through your spine. it was an unsurprisingly beautiful night, you quoted. Diluc was preparing your bed, as you humm through the southed area of your room. The melodical sound of your humming have always soothes his grudge from afar. It was always been his favorite sound.

“ your majesty, the bed has been done. You may rest peacefully now..so please excuse m—“

“Diluc…stop making it seems like i’m the only one who loved you..just stay here, i missed you a lot..” , in a sudden your arm was attached to his body, his dirty and ordinary body. You embraced him so tightly, as if diluc were going to some place you wouldn’t want him to cross. You were scared of losing him. You don’t want any of this marriage, you don’t want tartaglia to even acknowledge your presence. You just want diluc to stay by your side, even if you both have considered how selfish it is.

You clunge onto his chest, pressing gentle kiss on his cheeks. Not wanting him to leave nor to leave you behind. So desperate of you to feel this way.

“you’ve been doing great darling,i’m proud of you..”

“please stay like this for a while, i love you. So please, don’t go..don’t go..” , diluc watch your flattering smile turns into a small-sobs, it cracks him, he doesn’t want to let you go either. He was simply following your fiancé awareness, he doesn’t want anyone to harm you, even if it meant for you to see him in agony. Diluc Carries your figure into your bed in return, not wanting to bare any of his emotions. Feelings are fragile and so do he. giving soft and gentle kisses to your forehead as he wiped your tears, whispering a ‘goodnight’ before he left you again. If he was being honest, he wants to be more selfish, he wants to be with you, forever.

“hmm..i’ll be waiting for you, goodnight my beloved..”

“What’s with the inconvenience…?” The loud atmosphere greet you with chills. What time is it? You don’t even know. All you know is the sunrise have yet to grown out from the wave of the clouds. but why must all of your maids gather themself on your room, something important? But why must them gather at the edge of dusk..? Did your mother fucked up again? But actually, what happened?

At the same time, you mumbled a form of question. Where’s diluc? You asked yourself.

“Y-Your majesty! d-diluc have now been courted by the queen, i-i don’t know what happened but please stay put i shall help you! Yes! I-i—“ courted? In sudden, you dropped your glasses. The broken piece of the glasses shard scarred your leg. It was painful, but you didn’t care. The blood shed of your scars leave the carpet of your resident turn into a red motives of blood. What did diluc do to make himself courted by your own mother? All he did was to love me, mother. The maid beside you were in all panics, trying to brag your arm from leaving the room. Although you declined the embrace of it, you were still running in pain, it made the maids panics turn into vomits.

Rushing through the open corridor of your resident in sweats and blood shed, You found diluc. His hands tied with a rope, a slight red bruises covered his face. He was Courted by your mother because of an unknown letter that has been sent to the queen herself, it was dumb for her to court an innocent person like him. Though, at last, you found yourself screaming his name. The pain which hold onto your consciousness leave your body in a second. diluc was aware of this, Everything. His hands wanted to touch you and lead you to rest. but he couldn’t, the execution would be in front of his eyes in no time.

“you did harm my child don’t you? Look at those blood on their legs! How come a butler like you harmed my precious child..?! They are unconscious because of you filthy butler. Know your degree, h—“

“you abuse them, your highness. You abuse them, ever since their father die, you abandoned them and break them to pieces. How come you only care about them dying when their time to hold the throne came? They were dying because of you, those consumption they witness are all because of you. And you dare to tell me what to do when all i did was just to love them?!” He quoted every single words you wish you could say to your mothers face. You wished you have the audacity to tell her the truth, yet your weak body refuse it’s urge to make diluc out of the execution lines. I’m sorry, i’m really sorry.

silence fill the room. You were laying in pain, as you heard diluc’s defense and your mother’s lies. You realized once more, you were nothing to them. Just a pry for the throne. none of the guards have pitied you either, they are too focused on never-letting diluc’s eyes or hands meet your figure in this state of time. Those scarred glasses on your legs have made you lose too-many bloods, it scared diluc. After all, as a lover he is, he has devoted himself to protect you in all cost. let them be safe and take me away. It’s his last hope for you to stay awake for him.

“no execution needed. I have no reason to pay attention to fools like you. so isolation it is. This is all because of you, my child is dying and you’re the one at fault. Noticed how they haven’t even called your name again? They died because your lack of responsibility.” , spitting her mucus in diluc’s knees. You could barely saw diluc chills which you usually saw in his eyes. He’s about to cry..you think.

“Guards, please take my child away and let them rest in their bed. And so for this butler, put him in the isolation room, make sure to let him eat only once in a day, understood? Ah..don’t let my child see him, i don’t want them to see an abuser like him crawling out their life’s on my window.” , orders from your mother are none to first. They couldn’t be disobey and you understand them. You understand how ruthless it is, you understand it. But why must diluc? Why him? You saw the sight of him, blades are all over his neck. For what reason actually? To let him never see you again.

carried by the guards to your room and diluc was gone from your vision. He is not wrong, your highness. So why must those who loved me left my side, mother? Why won’t these bruises you add to my flawless skin never leave me? Is it because i’m a procession of your own sin? It was a cursed to fall in love with those you could barely reach.

PART 2 : COMING SOON

this is shitty, really shitty in fact. Though, thank you very much for reading this. Part 2 will come soon, if i had some energy to write the readers mother personality without getting pissed off. But anyways, see y’all soon at part 2 <3

[sagesongbird]

@heroicfaithful

{I could see the lingering look of anger resting on Nathan’s face as I asked about the driver involved in the hit and run. I knew he was a coward for leaving, but at the same point, in spite of how upset I was with him for causing all of this, at the same time, I didn’t wish him any harm or ill-will. Holding a grudge never worked out for anyone. Unforgiveness either, for that matter. Thoughts I’d keep to myself, for the time being, since I didn’t want to upset Nathan anymore than my questions about the driver already had. We were finally at a point where he was actually speaking to me. Not yelling or storming off angrily, but he was actually here as someone who cared. Shame it took me getting hit by a car for that to happen, but circumstances aside, I’m just glad we were talking. I just hoped this moment between us would continue; especially after I posed my next question. Inwardly cringing as I awaited his response. As I saw his expression though, I could see asking Nathan about fixing us was a mistake. He wore that torn expression on his face now, as a result. No doubt going back and forth between lying to me just to humor me, or crushing me further. Thing is though, the truth hurts, so although it would be horrible to hear Nathan tell me he had no intentions of givings “us” the chance to work things out, it would be better than the lie and false promises. I silently considered as I braced myself for his answer... The “Hales...” starter leading me to believe it was the truth about to follow, and it was going to hurt. Still, it was better than the lie. I once again reminded myself as I listened intently as he continued. I was surprised to hear Nathan confess that he still loved me. Relieved but surprised. Even more surprised when he mentioned wanting me to stay at the house with him, while I recover. Honestly, I figured once I was released, Karen and Lucas would take me in to stay with them until I was healed. No offense to them, but I liked this idea so much more. A soft breath released from my lips and tears I couldn’t hold back pooled in my eyes as I heard Nathan’s response. Tears of joy, because I never thought he would give me a chance again. He had been so angry with me that I worried we were done. That, no matter what I said or did, Nathan would never forgive me for going on that tour. This being one of those times that I was beyond relieved to be wrong} Oh, Nathan, I would love that. {I quietly said as my voice broke. The combination of joy and relief filling my every word as I spoke} I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you say all that. To know we still have a chance to fix us. {Purposely wording it that way, because in my heart, I knew if Nathan and I could fall in love with each other once, we would do so again. I knew there was hope for us; especially considering that, although Nathan was angry with me, he still loved me. As long as the love was there, I knew we could figure out a way to make our broken marriage whole again. I always believed a love like ours would last forever, and my mind wasn’t about to change on that now}

Continued.. We'll find a way

@sagesongbird

It was complicated. That was the only way Nathan could find the words to explain his marriage. For a while it felt gloomy, it felt like our love had fallen apart. And he didn’t want to say an accident is what brought him here but it was. He was so stubborn, he was bent on hurting Haley the same way she had hurt him. He was playing close to the vest because he didn’t want to let his guard down again with her. But he also knew the second he watched her lifeless body get placed in the ambulance that he was still crazy in love. No heartache, no time of her being gone on the tour could replace the love he knew he had for her. He did blame himself; if he had given her the talk she craved, if he had been more willing to hang out to repair our damage we wouldn’t of been tricked, we wouldn’t have been on that street the moment that zooming car came in our direction. 

I was guilty; because Haley jumped in front of a car to save me, to protect me from getting injured, probably to protect my future as a basketball star, but I hated how we got here. Over pride, over the stubborn acts. Nathan told himself he had to communicate, he had to be willing to meet halfway; in order for us to survive. He stayed; he was the one who sat at her bedroom as the brunette was in and out of sleep. He reassured her he was here; he was the one that held her hand. 

His palm never left her own; as he held her touch, His head leaned onto his shoulder; which is why his neck felt stiff when he felt his eyelids lift open. He saw her face; bruised up, her eyes were closed at first until he heard her voice, he held onto her voice as it was a sense of hope for him. “ Hales.. I’m fine, I’m more worry about you. How’re you feeling?” 

It was a stupid question she was hurt; the bruises on her face, on her arm said it all. But Haley was there asking if I was okay; I came out of this unstretched, I was fine. I was walking, I was breathing without injury, I had taken care of myself for years; I could handle a slight fall when she pushed me out of the way, Bringing her palm up to my lips; I pressed a tender kiss to her skin as I mumbled the words. “ I’m not going anywhere.” 

We’d figure out the past, how we overcome it all because we said always and forever.

[echos-newlegs]

Can I request 8 from the list with Tech?

Stop Thinking

Ahh yes!

Tech x Reader: "No, no- I liked it."

Warnings: slight cursing

Tech licked his lips. Squinting with furrowed brows as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was feeling self conscious about himself, and it didn't help you and the others decided to head for 79s. A place full of regs.. Normal clones. Perfect clones. Clones you seemed to get along with as well as you got along with him and his brothers.

"Tech, you about ready?" Your voice called from outside the door, and he felt his breath catch. "I uh, yeah, one second." He called back. Running his fingers through his hair one last time. Then slipping out of the fresher. None of you were dressed fancy. You all had your blacks on and lower armor still attached. The others already waiting outside while you stayed back for Tech.

He looked over to you. You were seated on a chair. Fixing your boots, then straightening up when you saw him trail out. "You feeling okay?" You asked. Looking at his slightly distressed form. Hands trembling a bit. "Yeah, I'm fine." You frowned. You knew he wasn't, but you didn't try and press it.

You stood up, looking up to the taller male with a small smile. "Ready then?" He nodded. You opening the door and heading out of the Marauder. Closing the door behind the two of you. He was quieter than normal as the two of you trailing behind his brothers as they bickered and rambled.

You were concerned to say the least. "It's really nice tonight, " you tried to start a conversation and he looked over. Nodding a bit. He was thankful you were trying. His mind was wandering, degrading every little thing about himself. "It really is, the stars are beautifully aligned, too." He commented, and you smiled. Looking up as the five of you went to get a cab.

You and Tech had to take a separate one. The ride was quiet, but it wasn't awkward. You were relaxed and he felt a little better just with you. You never once treated him differently for being defective. You treated him with the same respect you did other clones. If anything, you were a bit nicer to him than most. Always holding conversations, smiling his way, or going out of your way to help him. It always made his day a little brighter. Especially on days like these.

"You gunna dance with me?" You asked as you both approached 79's. You've only danced with him once. It was when you were both pretty buzzed, he was actually drunker than you. Which was a shock, but you never forgot it. It was one of the best nights of your life, and by the way he smiled fondly and his cheeks tinted pink. You were sure he at least remembered a bit of it. "Sure," you giggled a bit at that.

You walked out of the cab. Tech waiting for you to catch up with him. Two of you walking in to see the rest of the gang towards the back where they normally sat. You were going to head back there, but was stopped by the 104th. "Y/n!" Comet and Sinker nearly screamed as they ran over to you. Making you smile and snicker. Giving Tech a small glance as if to say you would join him in a bit. It didn’t take him long to disband from your side and head for the others.

You could practically feel who you assumed was Crosshair glaring daggers into the back of your skull for the five minutes you were talking to the troopers. You were just catching up, it was harmless. Or at least that’s what you thought.

“Sorry, I’m back,” you spoke with a small laugh as you sat at the booth the bad batch took over as theirs. “Welcome!” Wrecker chirped. Shoving you lightly with a snicker, and you snickered back. Eyes moving to Hunter and Crosshairs. “What..?” You spoke with a bit of a frown. “Why were you talking to them?” Cross spat, and you sighed. “Cross, I used to work for the 104th, I’m not about to ignore them. How’d you feel if I got assigned another troop and I just straight up ignored you guys?” You spat back. You noticed Hunters expression changed. He seemed to change his view point on it all, but Crosshair just scoffed.

“We should just enjoy our drinks-“ “Can it, Tech,” Cross sneered, and his eyes moved back to yours. Leaning over the table, but you didn’t back up. “They’re regs, we don’t talk to them, what part of that do you not understand?” It was your turn to lean in now. Furrowing your brow. “What part of you don’t run my life do you not understand?” You snarled. Smacking your hands on the table and standing.

“Wait, where are you going?” Wrecker asked, and you didn’t even turn to answer. “The bar.” Tech sat there and sighed. Head in hands. “They mean no harm and you know it,” “Tech we know as good as you that you feel insecure when she talks with the Regs.” Tech snapped his attention to his brother. Frown forming on his face. Nostrils flaring, “You don’t know bantha shit,” he snapped, and headed off to the bar as well.

It was nights like these he wished he was normal. Kriff, he loved his brothers, but their attitudes were always too stern and glum. He needed change, so he decided to accompany you at the bar with Comet, Sinker, Boost, Wolffe, and a few other troopers.

You noticed him approaching, smiling, but then frowning a bit. “If you came to drag me back to the table I won’t. I’m not letting Crosshairs petty attitude ruin my night.” He shook his head, fingers fiddling with the armor on his thighs. “No, I came to join you, actually.” Your smiled returned. Shoving Comet with a grin. “Move over, Tech sits by me!” Comet grumbled a bit, but did as told. “Yes, Sir,” he spoke and you rolled your eyes with a toothy grin.

“Alright Tech, this is Comet, Sinker, and Boost, that over there is Wolffe.” Everyone but Wolffe waved. “Don’t let him scare you off, he’s actually quite enjoyable.” You informed Tech with a grin. Shooting Wolffe a wink, which made the commander roll his eyes. Lips curled just shy of a smile. “Everyone, this is Tech, a good friend of mine.” He knew it shouldn’t, but you addressing him as a friend and not a coworker made his chest bubble with joy. Smiling as the others waved and welcomed him.

You, Tech, and The Wolfpack all participated in some drinking games with one another. One of them was ‘take a shot each time you could make Wolffe roll his eyes, two if he rolled his head and eyes.’ Though after some time you all moved to a different one since the buzz was hitting and Sinker was singing ‘Sweet Caroline,’ in a near scream.

You were laughing and enjoying yourself, and Tech spent most of the time looking over and studying your face. The way your nose scrunched up when you scolded one of the troopers, jokingly. The way your eyes nearly closed when you were laughing at a joke. Or even just the way your smile never seemed to faulter. This is what he wanted. He wanted an environment like this. One with you happy constantly. Where you weren’t scolding his brothers for something stupid. Or even himself. He began to wonder if you should transfer back to the 104th, or another legion in general.

His thoughts got the best of him again. Zoning out as he played with an empty shot glass on the counter. Coming back to when you nudged his side. “Hm?” “You good, Tech?” You asked, and his eyes widened. Realizing he was zoned out. He nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah uh, yeah I’m fine. I just uhm.. need some air, is all.” He spoke, turning in the chair and heading off to the doors. You weren’t about to let this slide any longer.

You jumped off your stool, heading for the door with him. Catching it before it closed. The music still able to be heard outside the door once shut. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, watching him turn around with a near hurt expression. “Don’t lie, either, I know you aren’t okay, I’ve been working around you long enough to know that.” You spoke. Approaching him a bit closer. You watched as he caved in. You could see it by the way he seemed to slump forward. His light eyes seeming to shatter. Worrying at his bottom lip.

“Y/n?..” he spoke, and you tilted your head a bit. “What is it, Techy?” You didn’t use that nickname on him much. Mainly only for your ears to hear. You weren’t sure of it at first, but he seemed to take a liking to it. Tech closing his eyes and sighing at the nickname. Then slowly opening them again. “I don’t think you belong with us.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows. He could tell his words hurt you, and he knew they would. “What?” Your voice wavered a bit. “I don’t mean it in anything against you, Kriff. You’re absolutely perfect, but you just seem so much happier with the 104th.” He told you. “I want what’s best for you, and well,” he chuckled, beginning to pace in front of you. “Quite honestly we aren’t the best. We’re stubborn, hard to work with, and quite un-enjoyable half the times.”

You folded your arms over your chest. “And you think the Wolfpack is any better? Did you see Wolffe? His scold is worse than Hunter and Crosshairs combined, and he holds a grudge as long, and if not longer than all of you. Then Sinker? Boost? Comet? For stars sake they’re a handful, they’re crazy, and chaotic, and Tech. What I’m trying to say is every clone unit has its flaws. No matter what. Whether it be the commander, Captain, General, Arc Trooper, whoever. There’s flaws in everyone.” You told him.

He stopped his pacing. Watching you as you told your spew, “and honestly, Tech. You aren’t in the authority to tell me what is good for me. I enjoy you all, even if I disagree with you all at times. I don’t expect a perfect troop. We’re in a war for makers sake,” you spoke, and noticed him shift at the mention of the war. “I enjoy all of you. Tech.. I enjoy you.” His eyes lit up at that. Then he looked back down.

“I’m not like them though, I’m blind, I can’t see without.. Without these,” he tapped his goggles. “I’m tan, sure, but I’m lighter than even my brothers and.. I stand out, and I hate it, y/n,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. “I feel like I’m not good enough,” your heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at his words. Stepping closer. Pausing when he seemed to tense. Reaching out to place your hands on his shoulders as if to ground him as you looked up to him.

You just stood there, watching his eyes look over yours for a moment. Searching for an answer, like he always was. “Tech, stop thinking.” He furrowed his brow. “You’re overthinking all of this, you’re good enough, in my eyes you are.” You told him. Watching as he seemed to relax under your touch. Hands running up to rest on the sides of his neck. Thumbs rubbing his exposed skin. Making him shudder. “I don’t care if you’re different,or that you need glasses. Tech, you’re absolutely perfect to me. You’re brilliant, handsome, and a fucking badass.” You both snickered at that. Techs fingers tapping at his thighs.

“Thank you,” you smiled and nodded. “‘Course.” The both of you standing there for a second. Taking in the moment and the touch of one another. Then you made a move that you immediately blamed on the booze. Pressing a quick kiss to his lips, and he froze up. Eyes widening. “Sorry I-“ you blurted, taking a step back. Pulling your hands from the base of his neck, but he caught them with his. His hands carefully holding yours. “No no- I liked it,” he assured, and you both smiled. Cheeks tinted pink. “Well..” you hummed, “you still up for that dance?” He chuckled and nodded. “Always.”

[minor-solemnity]

hi omg i love you so much!!!! every time i see you post i get so excited!!!!! if requests are still open can you please write over protective tom! i'm a simp for tom x reader when he is super protective over her! thank you😘😘

Eee, thank you! You’re the sweetest omg <3 I really hope you enjoy this! (We all simp for super protective Tom, don’t we? I definitely do)

Tag List: @naps-and-lemons @jinxqsu @riddles-wifey @cakesarecute @mostlynonsense

The Dark Forest

“Stand up for me, and stay close now.” You follow his instructions, the basket and the flowers lying forgotten at your feet. There is something about the way Tom’s holding himself, his back is a straight line of tension, his shoulders are taught, the grip on his wand rigid. He looks like he’s ready for a fight.

The Forbidden Forest is a strange and remarkable place. From afar, it looks like a solid wall of black that fades into hazy mist regardless of the time of day. You’ve always held a certain fascination with the forest, spending a lot of your free time edging the perimeter and peering in through the thicket, trying to get a glimpse of what lies within. You’d given up Care of Magical Creatures as an elective when you had learnt that Professor Kettleburn had made it quite clear to you that he had no plan to ever lead students inside. It had been one of your favourite things to complain about in fourth year, and your secret hope that you’d one day find an excuse to venture beyond the borders.

You suppose the phrase be careful what you wish for was penned for situations such as the one you find yourself in now.

You trudge along the narrow path, one hand gripping your wand and the other holding onto the wicker basket that Professor Kettleburn had given you to collect the stella syriaca flowers before sending you and Tom off into the forest. The only light source you have is the lumos you’ve cast to guide you through the forest and the pale, white-blue light your wand emits turns the forest into a strange imitation of nature. In this light, at this moment, you can almost convince yourself that the trees and the undergrowth are abstractions of nature, an impressionist’s depiction of what a forest might look like.

This in itself isn’t a problem - you’re not so easily scared that the dark and unfamiliar are frightening in themselves. The problem is that you’re fairly certain that you’re being followed. Not that you’re going to mention this particular concern to Tom. He’s already been dragged out to the Forbidden Forest unnecessarily because of you, you don’t want to annoy him with your paranoid imagination. “Tom, do you have any idea where we are?” You ask, trying to keep your voice and calm. You don’t want him thinking that you’re scared, not when it’s your fault that you’re both in this mess.

“If the directions that Kettleburn gave us are to be trusted, we should be nearly at the clearing,” He responds, and unlike you, he doesn’t sound like he’s pretended not to be scared. He just sounds unbothered by the situation, like this is as normal as a trip to the library or a walk around the lake. He glances down at you and frowns slightly as he takes in your clenched fists and tight expression. In the light of the lumos, his concerned expression turns sinister, strange shadows forming under his eyes and distort his usually beautiful features into something otherworldly and dangerous. When he talks though, his voice is soothing and calm, “Are you alright? I would have thought that you, of all people, would enjoy this particular punishment.” You hum in response, unwilling to voice your current thoughts but unwilling to lie either. Lying never works well with Tom anyway - his talent for spotting lies is as good as his talent for the art itself.

“I’m just sorry that I dragged you into this mess,” You murmur, which isn’t a lie. You are sorry that he’s had to give up his evening to escort you into the forest. “You shouldn’t have to do this just because I was being an idiot.” And the fact that this is essentially all your fault rankles you immensely. The issue is… Well, the issue is that you don’t really have anyone other than yourself to blame. No. No, that’s not entirely true. You can definitely blame the school for your current situation; it’s insane that they would send students out into the Forbidden Forest at night unaided and alone as a punishment. Professor Seprenta’s petty desire to take out her frustrations on her students by sending them into potentially perilous places is nothing to do with you. But the circumstances leading up to your detention?

Well, that’s all you.

You wish you could pass the blame but frustratingly you can’t. You decided all by yourself that it would be a good idea to sneak out after curfew to practise summoning circles. It’s also your fault that you’d (stupidly) chosen an empty classroom that just so happened to be next to Seprenta’s office and had forgotten to cast a silencing charm. She’d found you, chalk dust up to your elbows, scattering bay leaves, lavender, and mandrake roots in the four corners of the room.

Needless to say, she hadn’t been impressed, and you’re still not entirely sure if it’s because she caught you out after curfew or if it’s because Seprenta has a weird grudge against any magic that doesn’t involve the direct use of a wand. Either way, it hardly matters now. What matters is that you had been landed in detention and Tom is the one who volunteered to watch over you, ostensibly to make sure that you didn’t skive off, but in reality, you know that it’s because he doesn’t like the idea of you venturing off into the forest alone and without protection.

Next to you, Tom stills and grabs your shoulder, using his leverage to turn you in place until you’re face to face. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t take responsibility for my own actions, it’s terribly narcissistic of you.” He says and despite the insulting nature of his words, you find yourself reassured. Tom is… not the best at kind words and sweet nothings, not unless he’s employing them to get what he wants that is. When he’s being honest, he has a tendency towards bluntness that borders on rude. It says a lot about his feelings towards you that he is rarely charming and sycophantic. “If I hadn’t wanted to come with you, I wouldn’t have, so please, save your guilt for when you need it.”

With a small, weak laugh you nod, “I’ll keep that in mind… Thank you.” Even in the alien lighting, the small smile that lifts Tom’s lips is pleased and soft and maybe a little surprised. The fact that he so rarely hears honest thanks is more than a little heartbreaking. The pair of you continue forwards, Tom leading the way and you following close behind, ever conscious of the… thing watching from the shadows.

You’d first noticed the thing about twenty or so minutes into your exploration of the forest - a silent shadow, no bigger than a bulldog, that flickered in and out of existence in your peripheral vision. You’d not paid it much attention, to begin with, there were plenty of strange things that lived in the forest, after all, and you’d been confident in your assessment that the professors wouldn’t actually put you in the way of any real harm. That confidence has diminished the further in you’ve gone, even with Tom by your side. Now, when you catch a glimpse of it, the shadow looks bigger - maybe the size of a large sheep and a lot more defined. It melts into the darkness whenever you try to get a better look, but you’re fairly sure that it’s more solid than it had been when you’d first seen it.

You tell yourself you’re being paranoid, that the stories the ghosts like to tell you about what goes on in the forest at night have finally gotten to you, but the longer you walk, the more certain you are that there is something in the shadows. “…Tom? Tom, I think something’s following us.”

“I’d be surprised if there wasn’t, darling. You know as well as I do that these woods are alive with more than just birds and trees.” His words are not at all comforting and you find yourself growing annoyed with his flippancy. What you might lack in foresight, you make up for in common sense and your senses are telling you to pay closer attention to the shadows that encroach and creep and linger all around you.

“Tom, I’m being serious. Something is watching us.” He must pick up on the vaguely panicked edge to your words because he stops again and flicks his wand in a complicated motion and a vibrant flame erupts from the tip, floating just above your heads. You give yourself a moment to marvel at his ability before the matter at hand takes precedence and you cast around to try and catch sight of whatever it is that you’ve been seeing. “It was… It was right behind us,” You say, scanning the trees for any sight of the thing. Whatever it is, it’s nowhere to be found. “I swear it was here.”

He hums in response, and when you look at him, you can tell that he’s sceptical. Still, he sends the ball of flame in the direction that you’re pointing and the light seems to reverberate around the dark forest, revealing leaves and branches and thick patches of undergrowth but no moving shadow. Satisfied, he flics his wand again the flame extinguishes. “Keep an eye out - if you think you see something again, tell me.” You nod and bite your lip, pressing a little closer to his side as you continue your trek. You feel like a small child, huddled under your blankets to hide yourself from the darkest shadows in your bedroom. Fear is a funny thing, it’s an almost tangible emotion, prickling the back of your neck and sticking to you like sand on wet skin. Still, you’re almost at the clearing and then all you need to do is pick the flowers and get out.

The stella syriaca flowers only bloom at night, the tiny flowers growing in spherical clusters. Under the glow of your wand, they blossom pearlescent and delicate, like miniature moons rising from the forest floor. You set the basket down and begin to pick the flowers, careful not to crush the petals as Tom watches over you. “You don’t fancy helping?” You call over your shoulder and somewhere above you, Tom breathes out a huff of laughter.

“I hardly see why I should - this is your punishment, is it not?” He counters, wry humour coating his words and you roll your eyes but laugh nonetheless. Now that you’re in the clearing, you don’t feel so afraid, the knowledge that you’ll soon be out of the forest bolstering your confidence. Silence falls upon you and you get lost in the monotony of plucking the flowers, the repetitive actions lulling you into a daze so much so that you don’t immediately notice the rustling in the trees towards the edge of the clearing or the way that Tom’s posture tenses and his eyes turn to slits.

You startle when his hands brush the top of your head, and you look up at from where you’re kneeling on the ground to see what the problem is. Tom looks… He doesn't look scared, which you think is probably a good thing, but he does look agitated. His expression is shuttered window, no light or levity flickers behind the darks of his eyes, no ironic smile curling his lips. You only ever see this side of him when someone displeases him in a particularly grievous manner and he’s never looked at you with that cold blankness that reminds you of ice storms and black tar. You spare a thought for his enemies because you imagine you’d probably drop down dead in an instant if he were to ever turn this particular expression on you.

When he talks, his voice is tight, “What did you think you saw earlier?”

“A… I don’t really know—” Tom makes a low, irritated sound in the back of his throat and the hand that’s resting on your head tightens slightly. “—It was like a moving shadow out of the corner of my eye. It disappeared whenever I tried to look at it, but I think it was getting bigger the deeper we went.” You can’t keep the nervousness out of your voice as you scan the perimeters of the clearing, trying to get a glimpse of whatever it is that’s got Tom on edge. The darkness of the forest seems to loom and though you can’t see anything, you can feel it watching you, can feel the way it sizes you up the same way your cat sizes up mice in the courtyard before she pounces. You’ve always thought it was cute - the way her eyes would grow large and black and her lithe body would scrunch up before she attacked. You don’t find it cute now, though. Not when you’re the mouse.

Tom hums in response and he almost sounds relieved, though you can’t think of a single reason why. “Stand up for me, and stay close now.” You follow his instructions, the basket and the flowers lying forgotten at your feet. There is something about the way Tom’s holding himself, his back is a straight line of tension, his shoulders are taught, the grip on his wand is rigid. He looks like he’s ready for a fight. “Stop the lumos, darling.” At your noise of protest, he shoots you a quick smile which you think is supposed to be reassuring but in reality, looks vaguely foreboding. “Trust me.”

“Nox. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Oh, yeah, you sound really— Merlin, what the fuck?” The shadows in front of you shift, and something big and black and not really there seems to collect in the near pitch black. Vapours in the air that pool and swirl until they coalesce into a shadowy thing the size of a shire horse. For a moment, it just hangs there, waiting and watching and anticipating.

And then it lunges.

In the grand scheme of things, your life is relatively unimportant. You’re not so narcissistic that you believe that the world will be irrevocably changed or diminished if you were to meet an untimely end - sure, your family and friends would be sad for a while, your cat would wonder why you’re no longer around to give them treats and ear scratches, but nothing would fundamentally change if you were to die. You know all of this and still, you’re staring down the proverbial barrel of a gun and the only thing that’s running through your mind is, Dear Gods, why me?

You realise in this instant that you are not made for combat. This shouldn’t be a surprise to you - you’re pretty good at Defence, but you’ve never enjoyed duelling. In contrast to your frozen reaction, Tom responds immediately. The rigidity of his posture melts into something fluid and instinctive, and he’s stepping in front of you in one smooth motion and slashing his wand through the air in the next. Violet light arches through the darkness and the thing rears back, as though wounded before it pushes forward. You scramble backwards, staring in horror at the thing. In the spell-light, you can see now that its body is made up almost entirely of shadows - living, sentient shadows that join and divide around a curling skeleton. The only thing standing between you and the shadows is Tom, who is in his element, a whirl of controlled energy and deft wand movements. You’ve seen him duel before, but only in the relative safety of Defence Against the Dark Arts, and watching him now, in an environment where he doesn’t need to hold himself back, where every ounce of his focus and skill is directed at a real-life foe inspires awe and wonder and fear inside you.

The thing slinks around the two of you and tendrils of shadow and darkness curl out and whip at Tom’s feet. You think it must realise that of the two you, Tom is the more immediate threat. Tom leaps out of the way and advances, seemingly without fear for care for his own safety and you’re dimly aware that you’re yelling for him to get back and away. He either doesn’t hear you over the sound of his own casting or he doesn’t care - he just keeps moving, ducking neatly out of the way of another tendril as he sends a jet of golden light that splinters and pierces the monster’s shadows. You keep a tight grip on your wand, trying to think of any spell that might do something against an incorporeal monster.

The monster lets out a shriek and you’re not sure if it’s in pain or just angry but Tom is already moving again. He reaches for you blindly, not taking his eyes off the thing that is currently writhing on the forest floor. Before it can get a chance to recover, Tom raises his wand a final time and the bright white light of a lumos encompasses the shadow being burning and blinding until all that remains is a charred husk a skeleton that matches no anatomy of any creature you’re familiar with.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” In contrast to the surety with which he duels, his voice is wrecked, a kind of frantic worry lacing his words. When his hands find yours, his grip is tight to the point of it being painful, as though he’s half-convinced that if he lets go you’ll fade into the shadows along with the monster.

A feeling of warmth and affection surges inside of you, far stronger than the fear that courses through your veins and you grip his hand back, clinging just as tightly to him as he is to you. “I’m fine— Tom, are you okay? I’m sorry for dragging you out here with me,” You say, anger at having gotten him into this mess and anger that the school would harbour some kind of shadow demon in the forest forging your voice into something sharp and hard.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” He says and you’d be insulted by the way he brushes you off if it weren’t for the way that his thumb brushes your knuckles as he pulls you closer to his side. You know him well enough to hear the unspoken worry in his words. “This is exactly why I came with you.” You know he’s telling the truth. Since you’ve known him, Tom has always had an uncanny ability to know when you’ll need him, has always been there to help and protect you. Usually, that involves editing your essays and handing out detentions to people who trouble you, but you shouldn’t be surprised that he’s taken his chosen role to heart and would gladly put himself in harm's way if it meant you didn’t have to.

Nestled against him like this, you feel the fear that’s been with you since you first entered the forest fade, leaving behind a tired sort of fondness and relief. He’s still glaring at the place where the thing used to be, still tense and stiff as though he’s waiting for it to rise up and start attacking you both again. Tentatively, you reach up and brush your fingers against his jaw, willing him to turn and look at you, so that you can see for yourself that he’s okay, that he’s still here, with you. After a pause, he grants you your wish and your heart quickens at the ferocity lingering in his eyes. “Thank you,” You breathe and just like that, something shifts in the air around you and the tension leaches out of him.

He leans down and brushes a kiss against your forehead and you wind your arms around his back, one hand splayed firmly against his shoulder blades, the other running through the short dark curls at the nape of his neck. “I’m okay, I promise. Thank you for being here.” And you’re not just thanking him for tonight, though are you grateful, you’re thanking him for every instance he’s stepped in to look after and protect you.

“I’d never let anything happen to you, you must realise that by now.” He murmurs, and in the hushed silence of the forest, you can hear the unspoken promise clear as you can feel the warmth of his hand in yours.

[lovee-infected]

OK i hope i'm not bothering you but im the same anon who made the castlevania connection and i've been thinking :3c [Castlevania spoilers for the general lore/tw death, fire] since Lisa got burned because she was considered a witch in middle ages i think Malleus' s/o would get killed because they are married to a fae, a fae royalty to make things worse [if i remember correctly Faes and humans have problems in twst Canon but im not sure] that would wreck Malleus since his s/o was the first human to steal his heart and now they are gone because of their own kin, also Lilia could take the role of Death as Dracula's servant since death was very royal to Dracula and has been there with him for the longest time.. Sorry if any of these sound incoherent i can't speak English jdhsjshjssbsjj

Congrats nonnie, Castlevania au exists now👏👏👏

Note: You don't need to have watched Castlevania to understand this au, it just follows similar dynamics and storyline as the series!

Warning(s): Major character death, mildy yandere themes, pain, pain pain and lots of pain. Malleus having another mental breakdown as if being an orphan and growing without any friends hadn't already done enough of damage to him...

It's pretty well known that there has been wars between fae and humans in the past, there's also a possibility that Malleus's or even Silver's parents might've been killed during those wars. Malleus on the other hand would one day be the King of fairies, therefore he's most likely expected to marry a fae of a proper social, and royal class like him.

If Malleus waa meant to fall for a human of all creatures, it's not that far from mind that not only the valley of thorns, but rather the whole community would object to his marriage as the future King. At this point most of them (expect those close to him like Lilia, Sebek or Silver) don't even care about Malleus's desires and decisions; his genuine feelings for a man child isn't enough to wash away the hatred and bitterness the whole fae community hold toward humans, therefore going against Malleus's wish and... getting rid of s/o would be crucial if the royal family wants to avoid another war.

While Malleus believes this marriage would be a chance for fae and humans to reunite, the chaos caused between the fae community is overwhelming; even members of the royal Court riot when the truth behind young prince's secret lover is unfold and soon enough, (y/n) is marked as a threat to the entire valley of thorns.

Yet, Malleus would still choose to marry his beloved child of man regardless of the great antagonism his marriage faced, he is the King and he has the final word to decide whether he should marry his s/o or not.

As he's aware if the hatred his people may hold towards his s/o now, he trusts you with his trusted and loyal bodyguard, Silver and Sebek to protect you from any possible danger; leaving the castle as well is considered to be a threat, so the s/o needs to be under extreme protection which insures their safety.

However, several years after his marriage to s/o, Malleus decides maybe the word is now ready to accept this child of man as their King's partner since it's been years since the last wave of oppositions toward the King's marriage.

Perhaps it's finally time for human and fae to reunite as fairies have finally accepted his s/o, however...

...The betrayal that leads to his beloved human's death and Malleus's mental break down was never going to be from the fairies,

It was meant to be from humans, the s/o gets killed, by the hands of their own people.

(Y/n) has been marked as a threat toward humanity because they were married to Malleus, the King of darkness and mister of all evil.

Malleus spent decades protecting his child of man from the deadliest of faes and scariest of monster, only for them to get betrayed by their own kind, their own people.

Humans...humans, the grudge he has been for this pathetic word over centuries, way before he met (y/n), way before he fell for one of those pathetic humans. He thought s/o could change the way he saw humans, he thought he was going to forget the wounds those disgusting creatures had left on his heart, he thought he could finally come to trust humans but ah, how fool of him.

My my... wasn't he being just too naive? Thinking that there was actually a way for humans to change but no, humans will never change. He laughs at his own patheticness for trusting humans with his beloved child of man's safety as his heart shatters to thousands of pieces, (y/n) is gone, he lost them, he lost them.

It was his very own fault for being such a fool, his love for s/o had blinded him to the point of forgetting what humans are truly like. His hatred toward humans shall last till the very end of this pathetic world and will takeover each and every of those pathetic creatures expect for one, (y/n).

S/o is the true love of his life and the only human Malleus will never hate, they were superior in each and every aspects Malleus could've used to measure a creature's worthiness and purity, if (y/n) of all human had to be the one to die, then no one, not a single soul of them deserves to breathe.

Way through human history, humans have done nothing but to destroy and sacrifice other creatures for the sake of their own greed and fear, their patheticness, their unworthiness, their selfishness.

Humans are the cause of nothing but pain and harm, therefore they shouldn't exist.

...If this, is meant to be how his story ends, let it also be the end of all humans who took his beloved, his child of man, his (y/n) from him...

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Rumor Has It {21}*

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Cursing, ANGST, Plot, Fluff, Mildly NSFW, Violence, Blood, Death, Verbal mention of Rape, Potentially Triggering Discussion

Words: 6.2k

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

NOTE: DO NOT COME FOR ME. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Uriah-

You pushed off of him to an upright position, not sure you’d heard him right. “Say what!?”

 Chris sat up as well and leaned on the headboard.

 “Yeah. Abel, the detective, found that the video was doctored. It was spliced together using so many different audio clips dating back to when Knives Out was announced. She had someone doctor it to make it seem like it was me, or recent and current me.”

 You were ready to claw her eyes out. “That bitch!”

 Chris sighed. “That’s not it,” he began. He reached for your hand and brought you closer. You swung your leg over his lap and sat on his thighs, giving him your undivided attention.

 “Remember the picture of her in the sweater?”

 Clenching your jaw, you nodded. “The one from your room?”

 He nodded. “You’re right—it was from my room.”

 You gaped at him, ready to lunge at him, but you stopped yourself.

 “She snuck in, stripped down, and posted it. Abel was able to get security footage from the hotel. She bribed one of the housekeeping staff. They let her in, and it was at the same time I was on call for press. The timestamp shows it. I’m thinking she knew it would set you off and create problems between us.”

 You couldn’t believe what he was saying. This was insane. Why would someone go to these lengths?

 “Wow.” You rubbed your forehead, trying to wrap your head around everything. Not only were you still grappling with everything that happened since the accident, including things with Christiano, but the babies and Chris’s downward spiral, but now this. “Oh my god.”

 “The investigator uncovered a video from the hotel—and so much more.” Chris released a heavy breath then took your hand. “It all points to her, Riah.”

 His fingers traced imaginary patterns on my hand and along the length of my fingers.

 “And the text messages?” You couldn’t help yourself. Chris looked up from your hand and to your waiting eyes. The look on his face was an inquisitive one. “The ones between you and her about us,” you finished.

 There was no look of shock; he just looked resolved, as if he somehow knew that you knew.

 “How do you know about that?”

 “I did something crazy,” you began before pausing to find the right way to explain.

 It only took a few moments to forego any strategic plan and lay it out. So that is what you did. You explained your mission impossible operation with Kizzy and Zora a few weeks ago at Chris’s press junket. You explained being in the elevator to witness Ana’s blatant flirting. You explained, taking her purse and going through her phone to find out how devious she was. By the time you finished, the silence in the room was deafening. Chris hadn’t moved or spoken since you began. The look on his face was so masked and neutral that you couldn’t tell if he was on the brink of an angry outburst or a disappointed one.

 Suddenly Chris snorted loudly then laughed obnoxiously, clapping his free hand across his chest. The laugh went on so long to the same caliber that you couldn’t help but join in. So the two of you sat there laughing together for several long minutes. Once both of you were laughed out, you just stared at each other.

 “I can’t say that I’m surprised,” Chris started first, continuing to rub your hand. “I knew who I married.”

 He sighed and shook his head. That was when you saw the remorse in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about it all, but I didn’t want to hurt you or have you doubt me.”

 Chris clenched his jaw then crinkled his brow. “In hindsight, I know it looked really suspicious. There are so many things I see now that I didn’t then. I shouldn’t have even had those text exchanges. It’s not her place to know anything small or not about our marriage. Jesus.” Chris took his hand away then raked it through his hair before locking his hands behind his neck—one of his frustrated ticks. His eyes were dropped to your thighs, and that’s where they remained.

 “I’m sorry, Riah.”

 His voice sounded clouded, and that was the only indication you needed to know his emotions were getting the better of him.

 “I’ve been so stupid. So stupid,” he choked out.

 “Baby.” You slid closer to him, grabbing his elbows to pull them down to rest on top of your thighs. “Look at me.”

 You raised his chin so he was looking into your eyes. His tears stained his cheeks and welled his eyes. You’d wanted him to see the error of his ways so many times. You’d wished he could see it your way and understand, and now that he did, you should have felt vindicated, but you didn’t. There really were no winners when the family feuds.

 Dropping your face into the crook of his neck, you inhaled his scent.

 “I’m sorry, dragonfly,” Chris whispered, wrapping his arms around you holding you close. “So sorry.”

 “Baby—look at me.”

 He pulled back enough for you to peer into his eyes. As you caressed his cheek, you spoke.

 “It’s okay. I—you--,” you sighed, then traced your thumb across his bottom lip. “I understand. There has been so much—pain, so much sorries and--.” Again you stopped for a few seconds.

 “No more,” you finished.

 Chris slowly nodded his head, grasping your meaning. He then kissed your thumb and nuzzled his bearded jaw into your palm. Though you wanted to move on, there was one more burning question, one more thing you had to know. Nibbling your bottom lip, you found your courage.

 “Were—were you tempted?”

 You couldn't look at him, so you kept your head down.

 “What? Tempted? To do what?”

 Meeting his eyes, you swallowed, then continued.

 “Cheat,” you whispered.

 Chris sat up straight, and he cupped your face within his large hands. His eyebrows were crooked with the intense, take me serious look he always got when he was about to say something important.

 “Look at me. Never.”

 You tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let you.

 “Listen and hear me, Uriah, never, ever. I would never. I told you I married you for a reason. I had a plan. Forever and a day, Uriah. You promised me forever and a day, and I won’t stand for anything less. I’m collecting all of it. Forever and a day.”

Fighting the tears, you scoffed. “You were a jackass. When I tell you a woman wants you, don’t doubt me.”

 Chris smiled and nodded. “I was. Never again. We don’t be here again. I’m going to be Pence from now on. You must be present at all times, or I’m not alone with any women.”

 You busted out laughing, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the heaviness of the last few weeks. It felt almost normal, like the two of you were on your way. Chris kissed you once, then twice before resting his forehead to yours.

 “We have to nail her ass to the wall,” you declared, staring into his eyes.

 “Oh, definitely. What did you have in mind, Mrs. Evans?”

 “You didn’t file the papers?”

 Chris scoffed, then rolled his eyes.

 “I don’t know who you think I am, but you’re gonna have to try harder than divorce papers to get rid of me, Dragonfly.”

 Again you smiled. “So whatever I want, you won’t be the voice of sympathy?”

 “Whatever you want, kitten,” Chris replied, kissing the tip of your nose, making your belly flutter in the process.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m so happy that you’re okay, sweetheart,” your mother said as she pulled you into a group hug with your father.

 “I’ll be okay, mom.”

 Your father cupped your cheek, taking the time to inspect your face. You knew he wasn’t looking for physical harm. He was realizing how close he’d come to losing you, how he’d failed you. You could tell. When Chris had called them to update them, they instantly wanted to hear your voice. When they did, they broke, and that breaking turned to shattered when everything came out.

 You’d spent two hours on the phone with them, listening to them apologize and blame themselves for putting so much trust in Christiano. They felt horrible for never suspecting that he would stoop so low. They begged you not to hate them, begged you to forgive them. It was easy to promise them you weren't angry because you understood. You didn’t blame them or hold a grudge for them not doing more. They had no idea who Christiano really was—you didn’t either. The only one who ever saw him for who he was, was Chris.

 “I’m so sorry, Uriah. As your father, I should have done more to keep you away from him.”

 “Daddy, don’t. There is nothing you could have done. You did the best with what the information you had—you all did,” you assured, looking around at the faces of everyone you loved, both your family and Chris’s.

 Lisa approached and pulled you into another hug. You could feel her tears.

 “I’m okay, I promise.”

 “I am so happy that you are.” Her hand dropped to your bump, and she smiled. “That you all are.���

 Just like that, the waterworks started again, and everyone huddled around you, everyone but Chris, who was standing back most likely watching with a cheesy smile on his face. When they released you, your guess was correct. Chris smiled, then winked at you.

 “So how are we getting those sons of bitches?”

 All eyes snapped to Zora, who looked as if she was ready to rip out a heart and eat it.

 “Down girl—Chris has already laid the groundwork,” you said.

 “And it was easy, just play into that colossal ego of his,” Chris finished, kissing my temple.

   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Chris-

MSG Love Of My Life: Remember, don’t let him goad you. He’s going to try.

 He scoffed; it was an understatement.

 MSG: I’m good. He can’t get me to because I have what he doesn’t, and I know something he doesn’t.

MSG Love Of My Life: You do have me. Forever and a day, my love. <Kiss emoji, heart emoji>

MSG: You should have let me go with you. I don’t like you’re alone.

MSG Love Of My Life: I’m not alone. I have my parents, Kizzy, Zora, your sisters, your mom, our lawyers. I am far from alone.

MSG: You know what I mean.

MSG Love Of My Life: I don’t think I could relive it all with you next to me anyway. It’s better this way. I’ll see you soon. Remember what I said. <Kiss>

 He sighed and tried to push aside the guilt he felt. He wanted to be with you, holding your hand. You’d gone through too much alone, and all he wanted to do now was protect you.

 MSG Scott: Need me to come up?

MSG: Nah, I can handle this.

MSG Scott: Okay.

 He slipped his phone back into his pocket and stared out over the canyons and LA down below. It was a beautiful sight, one he liked a lot but not better than the changing leaves of Autumn in Massachusetts. He would never choose LA over them. It was, however, a good change of pace, but it staled quickly. Standing here, it was easy to forget the chaos of the last few months. Easy to forget that merely days ago, he’d thought his life was over, and it would never be the same.

 “I can’t believe you suggested this. What, you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s cool; I don’t mind helping you with that.”

 The sound of his voice was enough to make him want to turn around swinging, then drag him to the edge and kick him off Sparta style. He didn’t deserve to live, not after what he’d done to you. He clenched his jaw and tightened his fist, and slowly released a breath. Once he was sure he had some sort of control over his reflexes, he turned. Christiano looked as smug as ever. He’d never wanted to take a life, but right now, right here, he thought of at least ten ways in under one minute. They all involved pain.

 “So, what air is there to clear?”

 He clenched his jaw before he spoke.

 “She’s still my wife.”

 “Ah, ah, ah, according to those divorce papers she sent over, even that is limited time. Face it man; you’ve lost. I’ve won. I always win. I always get what I want, no matter what. It’s hilarious to me that you thought swooping into her life like that and marrying her on a whim would have changed things. Uriah has always been mine. She was always meant to be mine.”

 His hatred for the man in front of him was already at toxic levels. He had no idea how it was possible for it to increase. Staring at him and hearing the venom he just spewed did the trick.

 “So, this is just a game to you? This is her life—this is our life. All of this is for what?”

 “To win what’s rightfully mine. I’m Christiano White. I get what I want when I want it, and that includes women. No one takes what’s mine. No one, and she’s mine!”

 The smugness on his face was the most upsetting thing. He didn’t care hearing him profess fake ownership. He didn’t even care that Christiano thought he had so much privilege that he would get away with his insane plane. Even the thought that him being Christiano White meant jack shit. What really got to him was the fact he’d done this to prove some stupid, sick point. He’d played with his life, your life, and the life of his children for the sake of winning. He stepped to Christiano, ready to push his ass off the cliff, but before he touched him, the thought of you and those innocent babies flashed into his mind. There was no way he’d do this to you guys, he thought.

 Gathering some calm, he stepped back. Christiano chuckled.

 “Thay’s right. Recognize when you’ve lost, and oh, have you lost. Let me tell you how bad you’ve lost. She was in my bed, letting me touch her, kiss her, please her. She shouted my name, over and over. Not yours.”

 He scoffed. “You sure? My name’s Chris. Did she say, Christiano?”

 The smirk on Christiano’s face slipped, and rage replaced it. It was a small piece of satisfaction, but it was worth it, especially since he knew for a fact you’d called his name—Chris and not the latter. Though your brain didn’t remember him, your subconscious did, your heart did, your soul did. There was no room for anyone else. He nearly laughed in Christiano’s face because it had taken him this long to grasp that fully. There had only ever been you and him.

 “You only have yourself to blame. Who would dare cheat on Uriah? Who would think to replace a diamond with a pebble? You’re an idiot,” Christiano jabbed before he laughed out. “Don’t worry, once we’re married, things will be better for her.”

 “How do you plan on getting married if we’re still legally married?”

 For the second time, the smile Christiano wore slipped. He looked around as if he expected someone to come out.

 “For now,” Christiano scoffed, rolling his eyes.

 He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you walking up behind Christiano. Catching on, he spun around.

 “Babe, what’re—what’re you doing here? I thought we were meeting tonight.”

 Christiano approached you with his arms out, but you walked past him to his waiting arms instead. Once he wrapped his arm around your waist, you kissed his lips, then turned to Christiano, who looked confused, angry, and a few other emotions he most likely hadn’t put together yet.

 “For always,” you said.

 “What the fuck!”

 “Surprise,” he said, slipping his hand down to your hip. Christiano’s eyes dropped to his hand before he clenched his jaw. The annoyance from minutes ago was worth it.

 “What was the plan, Christiano? It’s bigamy to be married to two people at once. Our marriage would have been null in void. What was the goal!?”

 Christiano took a step to you, making him grip your hip tighter, ready to get in between you.

 “I’m better than him. I’m richer, I look better, and I’m better in bed. Admit it, Riah. I don’t lose to men like him. I wasn’t done with you,” Christiano confessed with bitterness in his voice.

 You pulled from him, taking a step to Christiano. “So you decided to turn me into a pawn! You decided to lie to me, manipulate me and—rape me?!”

 “Shut up, I didn’t--,” he began before you cut him off.

 “Yes, you did! I was not of sound mind. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t even know who I was. You knew. You fucking knew, and you used that and stole from me. Admit it!”

 Sensing things were about to go south, he stepped between the two of you, pulling back to a safe distance.

 “That’s right, fuck it! Yes, I did all of that. I’ll admit it. Yes, I manipulated you to get what I wanted. I couldn’t lose to this dick. I couldn’t let you go. I wouldn’t. I did what was necessary. I took what was mine, and I don’t regret it. I’d do it again.”

 That was all he could stomach before he turned and decked him with all the force he possessed. Christiano dropped to the dirt and writhed for a few moments before he slowly stood laughing like a lunatic with the blood dripping from his nose.

 “You’re insane. You tried to kill my children because I ended things and found better?”

 “There is no better than me!”

 He spread his arms out, not caring where the blood that spewed from him went. “Uriah, you know you love me. You loved the feel of a real man between your legs. Just tell him.”

 Glancing at you, he realized you were crying now.

 “I can’t believe you’d do this to me. I can’t believe you’d hurt me this way.”

 He wrapped his arms around you, hoping to comfort you in some way. Looking back at Christiano, he was in time to see him charging toward him. He quickly moved you out of the way and threw a punch that connected with Christiano’s jaw. Instead of going down, Christiano lunged at him, gripping him around his waist, trying to bring him down to the ground. He almost laughed. Sending his knee into his gut, he spun and put Christiano in a chokehold keeping him there.

 It was then a group of police officers came running toward them.

 “Look at that. You lost, not just once, but twice and now—a third.”

 He wanted to snap his neck, and thinking of everything he’d put them through, he almost did. Two officers ran up to him, both of them taking Christiano by his arms.

 “We’ve got it from here.”

 Reluctantly he let Christiano go and allowed the law to take the wheel. Going to you, he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears.

 “I’m here.”

 You hugged him, and he just held you. There was no need for words.

  -That Night-

“I love you.”

 Those words were like music to his ears. There was a time he didn’t think he’d ever hear them again. Gently pulling your head back, he peered into your eyes while caressing your cheek. He loved seeing you like this with your hair free, hovered over him, with the moon as your backdrop.

 “I love you more,” he whispered.

 “Forever and a day?”

 He smiled, remembering your promises, and pressed his forehead to yours. “Forever and a day, dragonfly.”

 You kissed him softly, taking the time to tease his lips, nibbling his bottom one before burying your face in the crook of his neck as you rocked against him, sending him higher and higher until he felt as if his soul left his body.

 “Uriah!”

 It felt like he was no longer in his body but instead hovering overhead like a fly watching your bodies entangled together. There was no other sight he loved as much. You rolled off of him and found your place beside him, resting your head on his chest, right over his heart. You both sighed.

 “After this is done, let’s go back to Massachusetts full time,” you quietly said after a few minutes.

 “What?” he turned to look at you, needing to see if you meant it.

 “Do you mean that?”

 “Yeah. I never wanted to raise kids in LA, and you know I love Massachusetts. Let’s have these babies in the house you built for us,” you added.

 He couldn’t believe his ears. It wasn’t that you’d ever expressed not wanting to live in Massachusetts full time; it was that he knew how much of your career was still in LA. With him, he was spending less and less time here, but you, it seemed it was more and more.

 “How is that going to work with your career?”

 You rolled slightly onto your side, then trailed your hand across his chest down his stomach to rest nonchalantly atop his manhood. Groaning, he wrapped one of his arms under his head.

 “I’m taking a few years off.”

 The shock had his junk jumping in your hand, making a wide smile spread across your face. “Wow, talk about talent,” you teased.

 He rolled you onto your back and climbed on top of you, nestling himself between your spread thighs.

 “Don’t play with me, Mrs. Evans.”

 You smiled widely as you fondled him with one hand. Not being strong enough to have this conversation while you did that, he grabbed your hand and pressed it over your head, gripping you at your wrist.

 “No fair,” you pouted.

 “Say that again.”

 You smiled, clearly loving that fact he was hanging by a flimsy piece of thread.

 “I said I’m taking a few years off.”

 He couldn’t stop his grin. “Really?”

 “Yeah. What do you think? Would you want that?”

 “You’re kidding. Of course, yes! It would be just the two of us day in, day out. No movie sets, no studio time, no photoshoots.”

 “Eh-em, excuse you. You mean just the five of us,” you corrected.

 It didn’t take him long to get it. You, him, babies, and Dodger.

 “I love you, Mrs. Evans.”

 “I love you, Mr. Evans.”

 You kissed him once, then twice before your hands roamed down his back to grip his ass, making him moan and chuckle at the same time. He’d missed this and you.

 “Hang on, baby; I gotta--,” he began.

 “Ah, that after nut pee calls, huh. Fine. Go ahead. I'll just be here, pregnant and horny.”

 He snorted and rolled off of you before hurrying to the bathroom.

 “Oh, I’m coming back, cause—that sounds like a very pressing situation that needs my undivided attention.”

 You giggled as he dipped into the bathroom. He hurried to the toilet and tried his best to aim properly but an erection and peeing straight made for a tricky situation. Once he’d gotten the hang of it and the common sense to curve his body a little, he was good and groaned long and loud as he relieved himself. The silence in the bathroom gave him the time to fully react to the prospect of moving back to Massachusetts full time for the next few years. He couldn’t wait. Life was about to change for the better.

 Once finished, he flushed and washed his hands before stepping back into the room. He expected you to be lying on the bed, waiting for him, but the bed was empty. Thinking you might have found your way to the kitchen for a snack, he pulled his pajama pants off the floor and pulled them on before he walked out of the bedroom. He’d recently discovered that after sex, you craved something from the fridge. He walked down the hall leading to the staircase, but before he got there, a chill ran down his spine. It was this chill and almost like a psychic feeling that had him stop.

 When he turned, there you stood in your pale pink kimono robe with Christiano behind you. His hand was around your neck, clasping it.

“What the--.” He made a move toward them, but Christiano pulled out a gun and pointed it to your stomach.

 “I wouldn’t,” he began before he cocked the weapon. “Or I will pull this trigger, and there goes Evan Jr.”

 Terror as he’d never felt before gripped his heart. “You wouldn’t risk her life.”

 Christiano shoved the barrel of the gun more forcefully into your stomach, making you whimper loudly.

 “Wouldn’t I? what’s the point of keeping her safe now? For her to end up with you? I think the fuck not!” Again he shoved the gun into you.

 “Okay, hey, hey, stop. Don’t do this. Please.”

 “Please?” Christiano snorted and pulled you more firmly against him. “Are you begging me finally? You’ve always been underneath me. I couldn’t understand why she would choose you over me. I’m better in every category.”

 He nodded, with his hands raised.

 “You’re right. You’re the better man, the better choice,” he agreed, deciding to play along and say whatever he wanted if it meant Uriah had a chance of getting away from him. He quickly tried to formulate a plan while he used his words to buy himself as much time as possible.

 “I know! So why him, Uriah!?”

 You remained quiet, tears streaming down your cheeks.

 “Answer me! You better answer me with the truth, or I swear I’ll pull this trigger.”

 “Answer hi, Dragonfly. It’s okay. Forever and a day.”

 You scrunched your face and watched fresh heartbreak wash over you. “I—I fell in love with him, Tino. My soul recognized his as my home. It could only ever be him,” you replied. He signaled to you using his eyes and slight movements of his head, and he hoped you understood them.

 He watched Christiano squeeze your neck tighter and press the gun more persistently into you, and he said a silent prayer.

 “Fine,” Christiano began. He saw the moment when it all changed for him, and his threats no longer were empty words. “If I can’t have you. No one can.”

 “Now, Riah!”

 You threw your head back, colliding yours with his in a vicious headbutt that sent Christiano staggering backward a few steps and you stumbling before falling to the floor. In the chaos, Christiano dropped the gun allowing him to leap forward for the gun. In seconds Christiano was on him, fighting him for it. He tried to pull it from his clutches while turning it away from him or Uriah, but there was no fury like a man who’d lost everything.

 Christiano managed to wrangle the gun from his grasp and pointed it to Uriah. In the blink of an eye, he knew what had to be done—the only thing he could do. Locking eyes with you, he said the only thing that mattered.

 “I love you.”

 He then dove for Christiano tracking him into the banister railing with enough force that broke it, sending both of them over the edge and down two and a half stories to the hard marble floor beneath. He could hear your piercing scream right before they collided with the floor, but once they made impact, the gun went off, and again Uriah screamed.

 “Chris!”

~~~~~~~~~

-Uriah-

It all had happened in such a way that it was in slow motion but sped up. You couldn’t register anything until it was all said and done. You scurried to the banister and looked down. Neither of them moved, and your heart stopped. Gasping, you tried to remind your brain to send the signal for you to breathe. After a few seconds, you coughed while trying to hurry down the stairs. The tears in your eyes made it difficult to see what was in front of you, so you stumbled down the stairs. If it weren’t for your gripping the railing as you descended, you were sure you would have tumbled.

 Once down to them, you dropped to your knees beside them and pulled at Chris’s body. He wasn’t moving.

 “Oh god, Chris!”

 He didn’t respond, and his body felt like dead weight. Your tears flowed more freely as you managed to roll him off. Once you had, you were able to see that it was Christiano who was shot and not Chris. Relief filled you, and you shook him more forcefully.

 “Chris! Wake up, please. Please don’t leave me. Chris!”

 Suddenly he erupted into a fit of choughs before they died down.

 “Why are you always shouting at me, woman!?”

 You gasped again. “Oh my god! You scared the shit out of me.”

 “I’m okay. I think,” he informed while trying to sit up. He then began examining you.

 “Are you okay?”

 “Yes.”

 He then gripped his head as he groaned out, but it wasn’t long before he was moving toward you to pull you into his arms, not caring that he was covered in blood.

 “Is he—is he dead?”

 Chris leaned back to check Christiano’s pulse, then lowered his head. “Very dead.”

 You clasped your hands over your mouth. “Oh my god. He—he tried--.”

 Chris pulled you into him and hugged you tightly. “Come here. It’s okay.”

 Somehow he managed to slide both of you from the body on the floor toward the wall. He held you tightly, then spoke.

 “I don’t think I’ll call you crazy again after this.”

 It was probably inappropriate, but you snorted then laughed, a laugh he joined in on. As suddenly as the laughter began, it ended.  

 “They’re crazy.”

 “Bat shit,” Chris replied.

 Any humor to be found in the situation was gone, and it turned into you crying in his shoulder, going through all the emotions from the entire night. There had been so much pain, so much destruction. You’d come close to losing everything more than once, and the culprit was lying dead on the floor before you. It was overwhelming, but somehow, you felt steeled to the fact that you’d just watched someone die.

 You glanced over to Chris at the same moment he looked at you. He wiped the tears from your cheeks then spoke.

 “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He then lowered his lips to your forehead and held you close.

 Ten minutes later, the sirens of the police, ambulance, and fire trucks could be heard as they surrounded your property. The officers instantly took yours and Chris’s statements and any evidence lying around to prove what the two of you were professing, including the security footage. The EMS workers quickly covered Christiano’s body with a sheet as they rolled him into a body bag then pushed the gurney out of the house. You barely registered anything. Chris did most of the talking, not leaving one thing out. When they asked you about the events of the night, you stuttered and quickly became frazzled as everything finally caught up to you. That was when the detective Chris hired suggested meeting at the police station to continue, which would allow him to reveal his findings in his investigation.

After a quick change, you were sitting in the passenger side of Chris’s car as he drove you to the precinct. Your mind raced a mile a minute, but your lips remained zipped. The feel of Chris’s hand on your thigh was your tangible evidence that this was reality and not some soap opera plot. When you arrived at the precinct, the detective in charge of the case questioned you from the very beginning to the night's events. You did your best to remain calm and emotionless and were surprised that you didn’t feel the shame you’d felt about the entire situation prior to this night.

When the detective revealed new information divulged to him, from the detective Chris hired, about Christiano and what he’d truly been up to and how deep his plans really went, you could hardly stomach it. He’d secured another property in Russia and planned to bring you there. The way the information was revealed, it seemed like he planned on keeping you captive there. Hearing that, you almost passed out. Chris, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to kill Christiano again.

 The questioning took a full hour, and at the end of it, you were exhausted and ready to put this entire thing behind you after dealing with Ana. With Chris’s arm around your waist, you walked out of the detective’s office onto the precinct's open floor. A loud scream brought your attention to several officers pulling Ana through with her hands cuffed behind her back.

 “I demand you let me go. Do you know who I am!? I swear to god, I will have your badge, and you’ll never be a fucking cop again!”

 “Wow, the mouth on her,” one of the officers teased.

 “To think we found her hot in that Bond movie,” another piped up.

 “Fuck you!”

 You and Chris approached, curious as to what was going on. You hadn’t expected to see her until tomorrow when you and Chris executed the second part of your plan of confronting her while recording it to release it to the world, showing everyone who and what she really was. It would have been a one-two hit that she wouldn’t recover from. Her career would have been over.

 “It’s been a big night,” the detective who’d just interviewed you said, standing beside you.

 “I don’t understand. What’s going on? Why’s she here?”

 “Your detective gave us plenty of information. By the way, impressive man, you should think about keeping him on your payroll. Anyway, we followed his leads, and it led right to her and her assistant, specifically her assistant’s car. This one took her assistant’s car and was the one behind the wheel when she ran into you. The traffic cams show it was an intentional hit.”

 You saw red.

 “What!”

 “She tried to kill you,” Abel, the private detective, added, coming up beside Chris.

 “What’s more, there were messages between her and Christiano White.”

 Both yours and Chris’s heads spun to him to the police detective this time to find him nodding with a look on his face that said even he hadn’t encountered anything this bizarre before.

 “They concocted this whole scheme together, beginning with the pictures of her in that eat shit sweater. This was set up with them. there is even evidence Christiano was poisoning you, Mrs. Evans.”

 “Jesus,” Chris hissed.

 You remained utterly silent and still letting Abel’s words fully process. It was a lot of information, but it was also vindication that you were in no shape or form crazy.

 “Wh—what does all this mean?”

 “It means she’s going to face a judge on a slew of charges that are quite serious. I can assure you both; there is no easy way of her getting out of any of this. No amount of money or connections will fix it. Her career is over,” the detective finished.

 You both were speechless, and looking at Chris, he was too. You and Chris were led to somewhere you could sit for a few minutes to receive the paperwork for the night’s incident and the new information. While sitting, you used the time to catch your breath and wrap your head around everything. Neither of you could believe all you’d gone through. The more you thought about it, the more your confusion increased. One burning questioned remained. Why?

 About ten minutes later, you and Chris were led toward the exit, but you caught sight of Ana to your right. You would have walked on, but the way she glared at you had you changing your mind in seconds. You let go of Chris’s hand and walked over to her.

 “I have to know. Why? What was the point!?”

 Ana bolted to her feet as if she planned to do something, but the officer behind her grabbed her arm, holding her to ensure she didn’t try anything. You weren’t worried.

“You don’t deserve anything you have. The fame, the popularity, and opportunities you don’t deserve any of it, especially Chris. He was supposed to be mine. That baby was supposed to be mine!”

 You could hear the poison in her voice and see the sheer hatred for you shining brightly in her eyes. She truly meant this though she didn’t know one thing about you.

 “You’re crazy as fuck. I hope it was worth it.” You reached back for Chris’s hand, knowing he was behind you. Lacing your fingers with his, you showed her all that her efforts had produced, then turned and began walking away.

 “You low-grade black bitch!

In your head, you heard blaring sirens. The sound became so loud in a matter of seconds it had somewhat of a mind-altering effect. Chris released your hand as if he knew what was going to happen. You turned back to her and saw red.

 “Oh I’ll show you how low grade this black bitch is!”

 You ran to her, then tackled her to the floor. Once on top of her, you swung punch after punch, each slamming into her face. You didn’t care where they landed, didn’t care how hard you were hitting her either. There was a lesson she needed to learn, and the only way to learn it was getting her ass beat the right way—the black way. You felt hands trying to pull you off of her, but you were not having it. You held on to her hair, so when they tried to move you, they really helped you bald the bitch.

 “See, I never learned to share when I was young! I’m—an—only—child!” With each enunciated word, you emphasized it with a punch. Ana’s screams were loud, but they weren’t louder than those alarms still sounding off in your head. Though she tried to fight back, it was futile, though.

 “Learn this bitch! Don’t,” you dropped a punch to her nose. “Touch,” you slapped her with your open hand. “What,” you slapped her again, this time with the back of your hand. “is mine!”

 From then, no one else tried to pull you off of her. You suspected it was Chris warning them. You managed to get off a few more punches when you were finally pulled off.

 “Let me go!”

 “Okay, calm down, Adonis Creed, that’s enough,” Chris shouted, trying to break through to you. You still struggled trying to get back to her, but Chris refused to let you go until you calmed down. You looked at Ana on the floor. She was barely moving, and her face was a bloody mess with several patches of her dark hair sprinkled around her. Satisfaction filled you. Raising your hand, you assured Chris you were good. Slowly he let you go, and you stooped down to her.

 “Look at me.”

 You waited for her writhing to stop and for her bloody, swollen eyes to land on you.

 “Remember my name for the rest of your pathetic life. Remember that I’m that bitch!”

 You grabbed her hair and held her head. “Try this shit again; you gonna lose your life.”

 With that, you punched her one more time, knocking her clear out. Everyone around the precinct shouted out a collective “ooh.” You stood and walked away as they all cleared your path, most likely thinking you were crazy. Chris came beside you, took your hand, and walked back to the car with you. Once inside, you both sat there, silently processing everything. Five minutes passed in silence until you spoke.

 “She did all this over dick, Chris. Dick,” you said in disbelief as you shook your head.

 “I mean—my dick is A1.”

 Your head spun to him. “Christopher!”

 He laughed out loud while holding his hands up in defeat.

 “Hey, don’t beat my ass too, I don’t want none,” Chris joked, making you laugh a little.

 “Wow, remind me not to piss you off again. I don’t want any of what she got.”

 You fake lunged at him with your still bloodied fists. “Don’t start none, won’t be none.”

 Both of you erupted with laughter before you embraced, relishing in the feeling of togetherness and your love. It was finally over; you thought as Chris pressed a soft kiss to your neck.

 “Let’s get the fuck out of this town,” Chris suggested. You snorted and nodded.

 “Let’s go home.”

 Knowing where you meant, Chris smiled and kissed you once, then twice.

 “Let’s,” he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

@chaneajoyyy @sonjashuterbugjohnson @caramara3 @southerngracela @cyntgefel01 @vannahvannahhh @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @theblulife @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @kikimiyazaki @toniilaney @areubeingserved @chaos-crusader @thinkxlovexloud @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @bellaamor88 @mack-jay @titty-teetee @pananegra @wellthirsted @sup3rn0va13 @nova3312 @hello-therree @valkyriesnymph @squeackygee @niyashell @allmonstersxarehuman @zsuzstyina @peggy-potts @amelatonin @lvlyab @sullyosully @taylorveebee​ @renesmeeharelds @capslut2014 @ilovehatembj @thelittlemoistcarrot @sarcastic-sunshines @a-dizzle777 @taylorveebee @jesseswartzwelder @90sinspiredgirl @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @choices97  @jd-now-jq @actorinfluence @chrisgalore @rynabarnesrogers @ab-baybay @motivation-idontknowher @lo-cheu  @builtalongthewaysi @momobaby227@drsunshine97 @cleothegoldfish

@thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @queenbetter @ilovehatembj @briellableu @zaddysqueen7 @melaninhawtie @simplyyamberr  @ashanti-notthesinger @chezdricks @euh-say-what-now @afraiddreamingandloving @ajspencer1892 @wakanda-inspired @chillavesss @theunsweetenedtruth @geeksareunique @aykanna @hanasamara @profilia @ollieveracity @autumn242 @missyperle @forbeautyandlife @kreolemami @songtoyou @designerwriterchic @firedolphin04 @academic-glowup @periodtcevans @nova3312 @naturalthrone22 @squeackygeecapslut2014 @queen-audsalena

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@koko-michelle @sophiasotherdaughter @maeleeme  @mauvecherie​ @jbrizzywrites​ 

***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. Please check that you are taggable. I’m sorry.***

[dragoqueen]

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Wow, I really need to create a consistent writing schedule and posting schedule for the stuff I post (I cross post on three different websites) cause I’ve been neglecting this one for a while. Anyway, here’s this. Maybe I’ll start updating more often! 

Words: 644

Summary: While Loki is questioning Peter he accidentally trauma-dumps... a lot. But Peter's there to comfort him in his tough times and offer reassurances for the future.

_____

“Why do you care about me so much?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… everyone in the tower hates me. I attacked your city. I killed some of your people. I hurt your mentor, nearly killing him. Why don’t you hate me like the rest of them?”

“I believe in second chances. Mr. Thor says you’re good so I’ll believe him until you give me a reason to believe otherwise. Besides, Mr. Thor said… he said that someone brainwashed you?

That it wasn’t actually you doing all of that.”

“Oh. He said that? And you… you believed him?”

“Yes. Were you actually..?”

“Brainwashed? Yes. It’s… complicated. You see, my father always favored Thor over me. I learned later in life that was due to the fact that I wasn’t his biological son. I was, in fact, the son of our kingdom’s enemy. Laufey. A frost giant… a monster. He resented me for that reason. I’ll never know why he took me only to treat me so terribly.

“Thor, having looked up to our father so much, decided that he too would hold the same grudge against me. He treated me well in our childhood, as any brother would, but it changed when he found out my true identity. He was different. Crueler. He and his friends found great joy in tormenting me. So I fought back. Decided that if they were going to treat me like some plague to the family then I’d become just that. My pranks suddenly got more hurtful. They started causing more harm than something just for laughs. I- I hurt a lot of people. I just… didn’t know what else to do.

“And then I tried to take over Asgard. Almost succeeded too, if my idiotic conscious hadn’t regretted fighting against him. So instead I sacrificed myself to what I thought would be a quick and somewhat painless death. Giving myself away to the void to end all previous hurt I’d felt from my father and brother. Instead it was just the start of many more pains.

“I fell on a lost planet. A tribe found me. They kept me on the verge of death. I went from one torture to the next, from being starved nearly to death to being put through torment after torment that should’ve killed me had they not revived me; only to put me through it once again. Eventually I gave up. Lost any hope of escaping or returning to any sort of normal life I once lived.

“That’s when the mad titan found me. Thanos was his name. He helped me get better. Fed me, cared for me, even trained me with the promise of restoring my previous glory. I felt no wish for what once was my greatest desire, but I feared that he would cast me back out to the tribe. So instead I stayed with him, hoping that with the promise of becoming one of his children after succeeding by completing a mission I would find a family. Someone who would care for me.

“As I was trained, I realized that it was a lie. I continued under the guise that I wished to join him but truthfully I wished to escape the soonest chance I got. When I was finally deemed worthy enough to go on my mission to retrieve for him the tesseract from Midgard - or your Earth, he got doubts of me. While they were, in fact, valid it nonetheless didn’t help. He used the very scepter on me I used to control people here on Earth. Made my mind only focused on the one task of getting him the tesseract.

“I’m not sure how much Barton’s told you about his… experiences under the scepter's control, but it’s not a pleasant experience. Your own conscience is still there. It’s just pushed back into the back of your mind. It’s replaced by someone else’s thoughts. Their commands. You’re forced to do whatever they say, no matter how much you try and push against it. Somehow, I was able to take what little strength I had left as a god and control my actions a little. I sabotaged the mission as much as I could by getting myself captured, purposefully recruiting people that would further encourage your SHIELD to fight back against me, and creating loopholes in my plan to bring the Chitauri here. I did many things I regret under his control, and as much as I wish I could blame it on him there’s always a small part of me that just… blames myself.

“Try as I can, there’s not much I can do to change my past. So instead I’ve been focusing on my future. Doing what I can to mend relationships with the people here at this tower, staying out of trouble as much as I can, and making as little a mess for my brother as possible. I know this all sounds rather troubling but it’s my reality. I- I am sorry for dumping this on you rather suddenly. You are rather easy to talk to. My apologies for any troubles I may have brought on you I can leave-”

Loki pauses as Peter suddenly changes his slightly calm and disturbed expression he’d held the entire conversation into that of one full of… remorse. Peter’s silent for a moment, and Loki starts worrying that he’d said too much. Perhaps the youngling would go and tell all of the Avengers. He’d be mocked by them and likely cast out. His brother likely wouldn’t do much to stop them. He was on a thin line with getting Thor to bring him here already. It was only because of his mother’s wishes that he was safely harbored on Earth instead of in the dungeons under Odin’s wrath. He didn’t know if he’d be able to-

Oh.

“What is this?” he asks.

Loki pauses, trying to figure out the reaction from the spiderling. He’d thrown himself at Loki, but instead of attacking, like Loki thought he might, he’d wrapped his arms around him in some form of… endearment.

Yes, that’s what it was. Loki hadn’t experienced something like this in forever. While his brother had used to hug him often back when they were civil to each other, such interaction had since waned. The only physical reaction he ever got that wasn’t negative and fueled by rage or distaste was from his mother, whom he hadn’t seen in nearly a year. He didn’t want to move, for fear of ruining the moment or startling the young avenger. All he could do was sit there, his arms still held out slightly in alarm. His mind focused on Peter’s breathing. Strong and steady against his own panicked breathing for fear of doing something wrong.

His mind was focused on how mad Thor would probably be if he found out that Loki had spilled their family secrets. One of the oaths he'd been made to swear before being allowed back to Earth was that he'd never speak of the things that occurred on Asgard. All of their family troubles and torments towards Loki were to be hidden to the Avengers as to not ruin their image of Thor and possibly risk war against their people. Thor also feared that if they found out what Odin had done to Loki they'd take Loki's favor over Thor's own, something that he certainly couldn't use for his benefit during his prolonged stay on Earth. He quickly pushed back from Peter. Though, he almost immediately regretted it at a single look at Peter’s distressed face. He scooted away from him on the couch, pulling his knees to his chest protectively, and almost instinctively as it was one of the positions he often held while trying to protect himself against Thor or Odin’s attacks.

“I- I’m terribly sorry. I shouldn’t have told you any of that. Thor can’t know any of this. Please. Don’t tell him any of this. He… I don’t know what he’d do to me if he found out you knew. You have to keep this a secret. Please.”

He was getting distressed. He could hear from his strained voice and the pleading evident in his tone. But he had no other option. The boy couldn’t tell Thor.

“Mr. Loki, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry about anything. I- I won’t tell anyone if you really don’t want to. But I feel like you could benefit if I were to tell Mr. Stark. He might be able to help you. We could get you some help and get you away from… from Mr. Thor. If he’s really as bad as you say. I- I thought he was good. He seemed so good.”

“People often seem good in the eyes of those less fortunate and under their mercy. Even for their own sake. He was protecting himself. I can’t blame him. I can’t even blame him for what he’s done for me. Pathetic I know.”

“No. Mr. Loki you are not pathetic. I think you’re strong. And brave for having stayed strong despite everything you’ve been through. Listen, I know I’m a kid and I can’t do much but if you ever have anything you need to talk about, something you need to get off your shoulders, you can come and takl to me. You don’t have to worry about me telling Mr. Loki. We shouldn’t have to suffer through these things alone.” Loki couldn’t believe it. All the things he’d just told Peter and yet he was offering him comfort. And an offer that he simply shouldn’t refuse. He knew it was bad to keep all of that bottled up. But what was he supposed to do? No one else it seemed would believe him, or even care enough to help him.

“Thank you, Peter.”

Peter smiled, something that immediately brought reassurance to Loki. “Anytime.”

[clarencethemouse]

!preview! of my latest original work

I’m publishing the prologue to my latest thingy. I’m kinda proud of the three chapters I have going on so far. Three chapters is only ever as far as I can get with originals, for some reason. But I haven’t run out of motivation yet. I think I can keep this one going :)

Tunnels. Tunnels flourished in Lila’s earliest memories. Her childhood consisted of hours leeched away in the study, and spending the better parts of a month hunkered below the palace. In refuge camps at the edge of the nation’s borders. Between the walls. 

Terrorists; her parents called them. Enemies of the court. Enemies of the people. The terrorists never targeted Lila and her siblings. At the time, Lila could not comprehend what the terrorists would target her home for. She was too naive to understand how anyone could hold grudges against her parents. The parents who had loved her and her siblings without fail, who were sacrificing so much for the benefit of the country and a future for their grandchildren. What could her parents have possibly done so wrong to invoke such wrath from their own people? 

Lila was a child. A child with such scarce experience of the world around her. She hardly spent time outside of the palace gardens under her mother’s watchful eye. No straying into the streets below, no mingling with the commoners. 

The last attack was the evening of Anastasia’s fifteenth birthday. The party had been well and bountiful. Their mother and father had given the speeches, wishes had been bestowed upon Ana’s upcoming year. The palace inhabitants were ready to retire. Rafael had been on his way to turn in with a woman from the Isles’ bakery when the wall blew out. Once again, Lila and her family were sent into the palace walls to wait out the attack. Rafael’s lady was killed upon impact, and the future king-in-waiting was put under the highest medical care. 

An attack on the king-in-waiting — even an indirect one — was a crime of the highest offense. The retaliation was immediate. Security was raised. More extensive background checks were enacted for incoming service and work. 

Lila was fourteen at the time. She remembered everything but understood none. Nothing at the time. From that evening, the advisors kept the children in their bedrooms. Mealtimes were the only daily occasion they were sent away from the protection of a locked set of doors. Locked with nothing more than an extensive collection of books and parchment to occupy her hours, Lila studied. What time wasn’t spent studying was spent daydreaming, her eyes lost in the view from the window. 

She had made friends with other children in the palace — sons, and daughters of cooks and scullery maids. Each of those treasured relationships disappeared in the months following Anastasia's birthday. Her parents disappeared from her life, as well as the lives of her siblings. The court had become paranoid. They feared for their place in power and authority more than ever. Never before had the acts of terror harmed a member of the houses, not until that night. Their resources had failed to protect the children once too many. The king no longer trusted his own highest colleagues. 

And yet, the terrorists never returned. By her father’s searches and deep scours of the nation, they were gone. Disappeared, like a sugar cube in tea. But like a sugar cube in tea, you could still taste their presence. 

Lila eventually learned to ignore their treacheries. They had disappeared. For years, the court’s paranoia continued and increased at every falling acorn to hit their heads. But they were safer than ever. Lila was nineteen when she finally came to that realization. 

All those years locked in her room, abandoning all hopes of growing past the sheltered worlds of the black words on yellowing paper…

The books protected her. Lessons protected her from the taunting evils of the world. 

But it was not enough. It was never enough. The books could only communicate with her in the times she was willing to imagine their displayed worlds. Otherwise, they were mere words on paper with no more purpose than to take up increasingly needed space. They were thick tools for hitting. That what had once offered refuge in times of suffering for Lila now made the day lengthen and the outside only seem more appealing. 

The walls of her home became suffocating. The air inside became dense and stale. Her siblings had moved on; wed or joined the army. But not her. She was stuck within the confines of her study, determined by her father to be the scholar of the family. The advisor, she was to be — seeing as the royal court could no longer adhere to their jobs as such. 

She had never regretted following her parents’ word more than on the eve of her twentieth birthday. The day after Anastasia had been wed. 

---

spread it around if you liked it. Spread the word! This novel will be reaching your local bookshelves... sometime! Within the next century!

[ironmandeficiency]

anatomy lesson

pairing: cody / reader,  waxer / reader

word count: 2756

summary: cody and waxer go to retrieve you for a briefing and were concerned to find you still sleeping. even worse, you were in a pool of your own blood. (let the fluff ensue)

a/n: reader is 18+. i love the hc that most (if not all) non-medic clones have no idea what a menstrual cycle is and absolutely lose their shit upon first exposure (except for gree & the entirety of the 41st, they have their shit together but i digress)

when the calls came in from master plo and anakin and you still weren’t there in the briefing room, obi-wan was concerned. it was unlike you to oversleep when on duty, being ever punctual with your duties as a padawan and commander. he told you the night before the exact time you’d be needed for the briefing and you’ve never been late to a briefing ever since you joined him as his apprentice. 

he caught cody’s attention with a slight wave and tried to dispel his worry. “cody, will you retrieve y/n from her quarters? she’ll be needed before the briefing.”

cody nodded, giving a brief response before leaving the room. “right away, sir.” he shared the general’s concern although no one would get him to admit the origins. cody knew there were days you were awake before he was, already preparing for the day with a mug of tea in hand. you had the same air about you as the general, a negotiator in the making. being late was an anomaly in your normal behavior, which meant to him that something must be happening.

that’s why his concern elevated to panic when you weren’t answering his (rather loud) knocking on the door to your quarters. “commander! y/n, are you alright?!” his fist pounded on the door with no response.

a couple brothers gathered around the spectacle, unsure why cody was so frazzled. “if you don’t answer me in the next five seconds i’m coming in!” more pounding, no answer. it was time to go in.

cody busted the external controls and the door swished open, his eyes quickly absorbing his surroundings. waxer followed cody in because this was an extremely strange series of events. why was cody busting into your quarters, and why was he so tense?

spotting your form lying still in your bunk, cody nearly fell on his face running the short distance towards you. he inspected you for a moment trying to see if there was a problem. cody was coming up short until waxer pointed to a pool of blood on the blankets, hands slightly shaking.

they carefully lifted the blankets covering you and nearly threw up. there was so much blood, more than should ever be out of a person that wasn’t dead, and here you were just laying in it without a problem!

wait, were you dead?!?! both of the troopers simultaneously reached for different pulse points, relieved when they felt a steady heartbeat. you weren’t dead yet.

waxer ran into the hallway and shouted for someone to retrieve a medic, his voice bordering on panic and ferocity.

“there’s no time! i’ll run her there while you notify general kenobi in the briefing room!” cody scooped you into his arms and sprinted toward the medbay, ignoring the shouts and worried looks he got from his vode. you were his only concern, and may the force help whoever got in his way.

waxer reached the briefing room in record time and if he wasn’t trained for combat, the running would have taken his breath from him. “general kenobi!”

obi-wan turned towards waxer’s shout in the doorway and was startled to see the man so frantic. the holo forms of master plo and anakin following obi-wan’s gaze to the trooper, looks of worry similar to obi-wan’s etched onto their faces.

“waxer, what’s wrong?”

“it’s the commander, sir! we found her in her bunk covered in blood, cody’s taking her to the medbay!”

the news pummeled the jedi with the force of a raging gundark. plo nodded for obi-wan to take his leave, anakin’s face was beginning to twist into something almost unidentifiable from worry.

obi-wan’s voice when he spoke was not the mellifluous cadence everyone knew him for; no, it was rough and pained and curt in an effort to shove away the lump forming in his throat. “we can finish this later. i’ll notify you both when i have more information.” he shut off the call with a harder than necessary press of a button and immediately followed waxer toward the medbay.

what could have possibly happened to you? you were in one of the most well-guarded and armed ships in the GAR and had the loyalty of the entire 212th behind you. why would anyone want to harm you, if that happens to be the case? obi-wan didn’t like the way waxer’s force signature burned, and making sure you were okay seemed to be the only thing that could ease the feeling.

you woke up… not in your bed, which was peculiar, but you were even more confused when you were moving. unsure as to why you were being jostled more than some unfortunate soul trying to tame a bantha, you take in your surroundings. you were still on the negotiator, and you were being carried? that would explain the movement.

coming into consciousness, you could easily distinguish cody as the one carrying you and the hard set of his jaw told you something was wrong.

“cody, what’s going on?” your voice was still grainy from sleep but cody had never heard anything so comforting.

cody seemed relieved to hear your voice but was ferocious in his reply. “what’s going on?! y/n, i found you unresponsive in a pool of your own blood! you’re headed straight for the medbay!”

oh no. no kriffing way.

you tried to move out of cody’s arms but the man had a vice grip on you. wriggling about could only get you so far when you were still trying to wake up completely and it showed by the way you weren’t able to free yourself from his arms. “will you stop moving?!” he shifted his hold slightly, making it even harder to escape. kriff.

“put me down, cody! this isn’t a concern for the med team!”

“like hell it isn’t! do you see how much blood you’re covered in?! i’m surprised you’re even conscious right now!”

he was still running and you were wishing for something, anything to happen to get him to put you down. but alas, cody was determined and did not put you down until it was on a cot in the medbay, aranar and a med droid immediately approaching you. “what’s wrong, commander?”

“i found her in a pool of blood and she’s trying to tell me it isn’t a concern!”

“cody, i-“

“someone tell me what’s happened!” you recognized the voice of your master immediately and you groaned, wishing the cot would somehow miraculously fly itself through the side of the shuttle and free you of this torment.

could this get any worse?

“master, i am perfectly okay! i haven’t been able to explain-“

obi-wan cut you off. “you most certainly are not okay! i was told you were found covered in blood! when is that ever a normal occurrence for anyone?!”

aranar, being far more medically inclined, soon discovered what the “problem” was. you sent him a scathing look that explicitly said “explain this to them now!” but aranar, being one to hold a grudge against jedi that didn’t report their injuries, shook his head with a grin. the smirk he sent your way told you everything you need to know, which was thus: you were on your own.

were you seriously going to have to give an anatomy lesson to everyone? apparently so.

you sighed before you began to explain the situation. “i’m suffering from what’s known as the menstrual cycle.” the word “suffer” seemed to raise some heads, some being nearly two entire squads. apparently word travels faster than you had thought.

your master’s face was almost blistering from the blush that had risen to his cheeks. you didn’t need your training bond to tell you that he was absolutely mortified (he was also quite relieved at the fact you weren’t about to die). he looked more like he got a sunburn on tatooine than was just embarrassed by failing to identify his padawan’s menstrual cycle. he left the room quickly, knowing that he didn’t exactly leave his fellow jedi on a promising note.

you turned back to the growing cluster of clone troopers surrounding you, making quick work to reassure the worried gaggle of clones that it wasn’t deadly. “it’s a completely normal thing, don’t worry. every month or so, my body naturally builds a lining in my uterus to prepare for a pregnancy. if i don’t get pregnant, my body sheds the lining out through vaginal bleeding.”

there was a brief silence as the men processed the information. it was gruesome in their opinions, the way women were able to do everything men could do and be actual growth tanks for other creatures.

“so the blood,” cody began with understandable hesitation, “was just lining that you’d need to carry a child? you’re not going to pass out from blood loss when it happens?”

“does it hurt?” waxer was concerned, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

“you’re not dyin’ on us or anything, are you sir?” jester’s playful tone disguised a deeper fear quite well and would have fooled you if you weren’t a jedi.

you decided to answer the most pressing question first, a soft smile on your face at the worry in his tone. “no jester, i’m not dying anytime soon.”

you probably should have (or had someone else) explain this to them earlier, but you never thought it’d become a problem. it was relatively easy to hide the cycle from your men prior to now and they had never seemed to pick up on any changes that coincide with your cycle, so you just kept on with your routine.

but since you were here, you might as well tell them everything to watch out for. “sometimes it does hurt like a bitch, not gonna lie. i can get stomach cramps and my muscles will be sore for a while, and i’m a bit more sensitive to touch than normal.”

the men in front of you nodded in understanding. “are there any other symptoms we should know about, commander?” boil’s question seemed to be on the minds of the several men around you. aranar had taken to shooing out the ones farther away because he was starting to feel claustrophobic, hating the way he could barely move about the medbay without bumping into someone.

“nothing too drastic, just appetite changes and some changes in mood.” they looked to aranar and when their brother nodded his agreement, their shoulders released the collaborative tension in all of their shoulders. you could feel their worry dissipate into the force, satisfied that you were, in fact, perfectly fine. “now i thank you all for your concern, but i would really appreciate some privacy so i could change out of these clothes.”

several of the men filed out, thinning the crowd the same as aranar had until you were left with cody, waxer, and jester. the latter took his leave once he got a quick hug from you and more reassurance that you were completely fine and there was no reason to fuss.

waxer took jester’s spot seconds later, a set of blacks in hand. “i hope these will suffice for now, commander. at least until you’re able to get to your quarters and into something more comfortable for you.” he extended them towards you gently, and there was even a pair of boots included. you knew as well as he did that they wouldn’t properly fit you but the sentiment behind giving you these was no less strong. in mando’an tradition, sharing armor with someone was one of the highest forms of trust and affection one could show and you were reeling from the implications.

(what you didn’t notice was the gleam in cody’s eye and the way waxer looked to his ori’vod for reassurance. it wasn’t like you would have known what the look was about, but seeing as you didn’t know it happened in the first place, there was nothing to speculate.)

you took the blacks from him with a soft smile. “these are extremely appreciated, waxer. thank you.” you swung your legs over the bed and walked towards him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. if you weren’t mistaken, he softly hummed and leaned into your hand like a tooka getting scratched under the chin.

“would you like to get breakfast with us, commander?” cody questioned, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

you weren’t going to refuse in the first place, but your stomach wanted to guarantee a trip to the mess with the men in front of you with a growl. the men grinned at the noise (well, the way you looked down to hide your face afterward) and you nodded your agreement. “give me just a moment to get cleaned up and i’ll gladly go with you.”

they nod and tell you they’ll wait up outside before leaving you alone.

thank the stars there was a private ‘fresher in the room you were in. you were quickly out of your bloodied nightwear and once you were clean and armed with a tampon to plug the leak, you grabbed the blacks from their neatly folded pile.

you’ve carried sets of blacks before, but these felt strangely lighter. almost all sets of blacks were made the same because everyone that wore them had nearly identical measurements. personal modifications were near obsolete, exceptions being made for clones that were granted prosthetics instead of decommissioning (at the cursed d-word you quickly pulled your thoughts back; you and your master both had numerous issues with the treatment of your men, and your current emotional vulnerability would do nothing but cause trouble).

you started with the pants. when you got both legs in, you were shocked. why were they so snug? you knew for a fact that you didn’t have the same measurements as your men, and yet… the pants fit like a glove. a perfectly-fitting glove.

maybe you were imagining this. you had to be. the moment you emerged from the room, you’d be able to flap about in the outfit like a young padawan wearing their master’s robes. cody and waxer would laugh and smile, one of them probably daring you to eat breakfast in the blacks (which you would take them up on without hesitation).

but then the shirt fit just as well, if not better, than the pants. that couldn’t be! your chests were completely different! you had boobs, for kriff’s sake! the size of your bust was inconsequential, it was the fact that blacks were made to fit the clones, who didn’t have boobs last time you saw one. what could possibly explain it?

as you let your thoughts roam, you slid the boots on and realized with a start that holy shit these are my size. and if the boots are my size, then that means… 

you were given a custom set of blacks.

they saw you as one of their own, their vod. you were their highly respected jedi commander, but you were also family. every member of the 212th knew that you’d put your life on the line for them (despite it being the opposite of what they wanted in battle) just the same as they would for you. the gesture was one of deepest sincerity and camaraderie, if that word was even strong enough to define the feeling.

“waxer! cody!” you called for them to come in. you could feel your throat getting blocked by the overwhelming love you felt right then, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

the two burst in, worried something actually did happen this time. then they noticed you were decked out in your new blacks with watery eyes and a wide grin on your face.

“you fit right in, y/- oof!”

cody’s teasing was cut off by you nearly taking him to the ground with a hug, arms wrapping tight around him. you let go after a moment and brought waxer in too, letting yourself be encased in the light and happiness and safety being spread through the force. a gentle hand came to rest at the back of your head, and another rubbed your back soothingly.

“i take it you won’t need to change before heading to the mess?” waxer’s smile was heard in his softly teasing words, and it made your heart sing.

“you bet your ass i won’t. now let’s go, i’m starving.” you untangled yourself from the embrace of the men in front of you before letting them escort you to breakfast.

[kill-your-authors]

I’ve been thinking about Booker again.

I know I’ve talked about my opinions on him before (and gotten hate for doing so) but I literally can’t let it go so here I am talking about it again.

I have a problem with how Booker’s character arc was handled in the movie. I whole-heartedly believe that the intention was for the audience to feel torn at the ending of the movie, after finding out that Booker betrayed them and that he was going to face a hundred years of exile and as an audience member I want to feel torn. I want to be asking myself, “But if I were in his shoes, can I honestly say I wouldn’t have done the same?” because writing that evokes that kind of emotion in the audience is exciting and it’s what fiction is for. 

But we’re not torn at the end. I think everyone who watched the movie and is currently in this fandom has taken a definitive “side” when there was never supposed to be sides. People either over-sympathize with Booker and have either forgiven him or outright excused him for the harm he did, or they have vilified him and think he deserved worse, or that he ought to never be forgiven. 

And as it stands, as the movie was written, I lean toward the side that believes, at the very least, he had it coming and deserves what he got. 

But I wish that wasn’t the case. I wish the movie had done a better job of revealing Booker’s POV of things. Firstly, that he had no idea they were going to be captured. He believed they were going to give up some DNA, some tissue samples, and believed in doing so, that millions of sick people would either become healthy, or that their quality of life would be vastly improved and as a bonus in the process they would discover a way for him to end his life. In his eyes, that was nothing less than a win-win, and one I could easily see the youngest and least experienced and most naïve member of The Guard believing was the right thing to do. 

Nile wasn’t part of his plan, Andy losing her immortality wasn’t part of his plan, Nicky and Joe being tortured wasn’t part of his plan. It wasn’t even part of Copley’s, so how could it have been part of Booker’s? Not only that, but Booker isn’t doing this just for himself. Booker gets called selfish a lot by this fandom, and gets called selfish in canon by Joe - but Booker really believed he was doing this for Andy too. He probably believed he was making the decision that Andy, the leader of their group, would never make because Andy knows she is the one the rest of them look up to to be strong and to cope with their immortality and to lead them on their righteous path of doing good and making the world a better place. 

And I know I’ve made this argument before (and gotten hate for it) but I really think they fucked up when they had Booker say in the lab, “What do you know of the weight of all these years alone? You and Nicky always had each other.” I hate this line, because there is no way to interpret it other than that Booker did this because he’s lonely and not just lonely but romantically lonely which is indisputably selfish even if you consider that he’s doing it for Andy too, who had Quynh in her life for longer than Joe and Nicky have had each other, and who has had to live without her for 500 years. 

I really wish that at this critical point in the plot, they had Booker bring up his kids. He is the only one (that we know of) out of the entire guard who had children and we know that his grief over losing them is what has driven him to the point of being suicidal because of his conversation with Nile by the campfire. Booker’s backstory is a tragedy. Not only did he watch all three of his children die (and presumably a wife) but they all despised him, and more importantly despised him for his immortality. They blamed him for their deaths. They are the real reason he is so desperate to “end it,” and yet they made it sound like the only reason he doesn’t want to live is because he doesn’t have a romantic partner which in comparison, is nothing and is indisputably a selfish and pathetic (as Joe points out) reason for him to expose the Guard’s immortality to outsiders.

I also think they should have done this because unlike Andy, Joe and Nicky, who all have lost people too, and had to grieve people too - Booker’s memory of his family is fresh. Their loss is still an open wound. Andy says herself that she can’t remember her mother or sisters’ faces. Andy, Joe and Nicky are full of grief too, but their wounds aren’t fresh. 

(I also think this would have been good to highlight because it also explains why Nile was willing to let him off with an apology. I hate the implication that Nile wants to let him off with an apology because she hasn’t “learned” yet the way they suggest. I don’t think they’re giving Nile enough credit. Nile has just learned that she will never even speak to her mom and brother again, people she didn’t even get to say goodbye to. She has also just left all of her closest friends behind and the military, which was a vocation that was incredibly important to her due to her dad and she has just listened to Booker explain the toll this will take on her as time passes. When she suggests they let him off with an apology, it’s because she understands more than anybody else in that moment what the grief of losing your family can drive you to do. I know it is also because she is young, and has a good heart, and isn’t the type to hold a grudge, but to act as if that’s the only reason is just not giving Nile enough credit. She’s a marine who less than a week before believed that death was the end of it and here they all are now, alive and safe again, and she’s thinking, “No harm, no foul.”)

And also, Booker is like Nile. He’s “too new” still. Unlike Andy, Joe and Nicky who believe there’s at least a chance every time they die that they’re dying for real, Booker knows he’s got time. He knows he’s got centuries, maybe even millennia to endure yet. Millennia of wanting desperately to die and not being able to ahead of him. As someone who has been suicidal (and I know this makes me biased), who has believed the alternative to death was decades (not even centuries, let alone millennia!) of misery still ahead of me - I can tell you that when you’re thinking like that, death feels like such a gift, to be able to remind yourself, “at least I have the option to kill myself” when things get truly dark. Booker doesn’t have that option. He has to suffer indefinitely. 

I just really wish the movie had explored this and I think it’s really unfortunate that what Booker’s going through got boiled down to being romantically lonely. I think Booker’s arc misses it’s own point and therefore the ending in which he gets exiled for 100 years defeats the purpose. We aren’t torn. We aren’t asking ourselves what we would have done in his place, and we aren’t unsure of the answer anyway. For me, this was a make-or-break missed opportunity for this movie. It’s still one of my favorite movies, and these characters are very close to my heart now, but as a writer it missed its mark.