#it's too hopeful and actually addresses trauma | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

certainlynotasimp · 1 year ago

Note

Okay, first of all, how are you? Hope you’re doing well! Drink plenty of water, stay hydrated- Second off, your Sunny fics? *chef’s kiss* so mainly, what if anybody made Sunny cry and Miguel had to find out about it? And Sunny’s trying not to make it seem like a big deal in order to keep Miguel from, you know, absolutely obliterating anyone.

Come on, Baby, Cry.

((Miguel O' Hara X Female! Reader))

A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you so much for the compliment. All my readers? *Extra chef's kisses* I am very hydrated and I got so excited to write this for you and to add some angsty content lol. I hope you enjoy this and let me know if you are disappointed or if you love it.

A/N: I also wanna address two things before I post this too. 1) thank you so much to the anon who asked me to include translations for the Spanish phrases as I was honestly not thinking about doing that. I will do better to include the translations at the end of the fics. 2) There are gonna be some triggering topics explored in this one-shot so if you don't want to hear about near injuries to children or child loss, then I understand if you don't want to read it. Feel free to enjoy my other fanfics and here's the post where you can stay notified on happier Sunny and Miggy fanfics.

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Barely using (Y/N) ((Sunny is just their nickname, not their actual name.)), Female pronouns, PTSD, Mentions of Child Loss, Endangerment of a Child ((No children were actually hurt, just traumatized)), Trauma, Comforting, Fluff, Angry Miguel, and Google Translate Spanish.

The room fills with squeals and giggles as the chase between the chubby toddler and the jumping spider. Mayday swings her little self around the corridor as the young woman follows behind amused by how agile the little tyke was.

‘Maybe she’ll make a good sidekick in the future.’ The smiling woman muses in her mind before a bloody image flashes in her mind. Shaking her head, she clears the idea out of her mind as Mayday reaches an open window.

Her quick scream of horror as she accidentally swings herself out of the window causes the woman’s blood to run cold as she flings herself out of the window after her. “MAYDAY!”

The adrenaline coming from her heightened fear causes the whole thing to appear to be trapped in time as the spider woman falls with the screeching infant falling inches away. Tears clouded her vision as she shoots out her webbing to the pillars around them as the images of flames lick at her eyes.

So many flames, and too many buildings at once. Screams and pleas from below as she tries to be there. They didn’t matter to her, not at that moment. The only one who mattered was him. Did he scream like that too or did he not even feel it?

Using her webbing, she quickly creates a hammock for Mayday to fall on a few feet from the ground, thankfully trapping the wailing infant so she can’t escape. Unfortunately, reality doesn’t set in time for the spider as she slams into the titanium flooring below, knocking the air out of her lungs.

Many spidermen gathered as they heard the commotion, but she could only focus her blurry vision above her as she tries to regain her sight. A familiar blur of bright pink swings up and grabs the ball of ginger hair in a muddled mess of cries. He quickly drops down to where the disoriented woman was splayed out below with the whimpering infant in his arms.

“Hey, Sunny, you alright?” Peter calls his friend. The damage didn’t look bad from the outside, but he was sure she had some nasty concussion with how she was looking at him.

Hobie crouches down beside the crumbled girl and carefully lifts her head up with one hand. “Oi, Sunshine, you there?” He mutters as he looks into her eyes. He holds up his hand and makes three fingers pop up. “How many fingers do you see, love?”

With a cough, the woman croaks out, “Three?” Her eyes begin to focus as her enhanced healing works out the stars in her vision. With the help of Hobie and Peter, she stands up with a whimper at the feeling of her shattered ribs forming back together. “Damn, I forgot that falling several feet actually hurt.” She attempts to joke despite her wheezing breath. The crowd around them laughs as Peter sighs in relief.

“Thank god, you’re alright.” Peter mourns as a glint of regret shines in his eyes. “I’m sorry for all this, Sunny. I shouldn’t have let her bring the web shooter here. She almost swings herself out of the window all the time and MJ told me that one day I won’t be there to help the next time it happens.” Mayday’s cries end as she sees her favorite play partner up and well as she shows off her gummy smile.

“Well, luckily I was here to save the day.” The disoriented spider muses as she returns the infant’s smile as the men chuckle. The crowd dissipates leaving the injured spider with her two friends.

“I’m still really sorry, P. I got distracted and didn’t see that the window was open.” She winces as she blames herself for being so neglectful.

“Don’t sweat it, kid. This little rascal will probably send me to an early grave with all the mischief she causes.” Peter jokes as he tickles his now roaming daughter, chuckling at her excited squeals.

“Good thing you don’t have a kid, Sunny.” Hobie chuckles. “You would lose them in a heartbeat.”

The bright atmosphere shatters as the woman abruptly pulls away from her friends. The men look at her confused until they saw the look in her eyes. The normal warm and inviting gaze that they all thrived under was gone, only a dark void was staring back at them. Their light now shining in hurt and sadness as memories cloud her mind. Her lip trembles in a tight line as tears begin to roll down her face.

Hobie looks confused at the sudden shift, but Peter realizes something as he looked at his trembling friend. Her eyes burned with tears as they locked with his. She had a haunted look about her. It's a look only parents can ever understand and fear. The look Peter himself almost experienced. “Hey,(y-” Before Peter can comfort her, she activates her mask and turns invisible before running off, her muffled sobs leaving them speechless.

Hobie groans as he realizes two things. One, he just made the sweetest person in the world cry. And Two,...

Miguel is gonna kill him.

~~~~~~~

The warm glow of the portal illuminates the surveillance room as the blue spider steps out covered in a musty yellow goo. Lyla smirks as she observes the little chucks slipping onto the ground as Miguel attempts to dust off the slime from his large shoulders.

“Was your mission successful, boss?” The assistant snarks as she sends out a little robot to follow the annoyed Spiderman. The little bug-like contraption eagerly swallows up the disgusting mess Miguel left as he walks up to the platform. “The anomaly was captured and disposed of. Next time, warn me if William Baker is made of anything except sand.” He grumbles as the sound of the little robot annoyed him even more.

“I’ll make a note of that.” The AI giggles as she downloads the mission info from Miguel’s gizmo. “Also ‘Miss Sunshine’ is here and she doesn’t seem too happy.” She says before fading out.

Miguel’s eyes widen upon hearing that his sunny partner was upset. She was never upset. Never. With concern eating away at him, Miguel shoots out a web and swings himself to the platform above. He lands softly as he sees the scene in front of him.

His sunshine sat in his usual seat in front of the monitor. Her costume was dirty with a chest compression brace wrapped around her ribs as her choked sobs wheeze out of her. Her mask was off as her head rested against the ice pack in her hand, her back leaned forward as her attention was focused on the image before her.

He already knew what was on the screen.

He knew that file name by heart just like how he knows Gabriella’s.

File SW-0001425

World 16457-0

Spider-Woman- (Y/N) (L/N)

Age of infection- 23

Occupation- Intern Medical Research Assistant in the Genetics Department of { REDACTED } working under Dr. {REDACTED}

Sacrifice: Ben (L/N), age 4, Son of (Y/N) (L/N), 1 year into being Spiderwoman

Cause of death: Blunt Force trauma and Smoke inhalation caused by a multi-location attack caused by { REDACTED}

Status of Universe: DESTROYED

On the screen, the laughing face of a younger Sunny shines as a chubby cheek of a baby boy with dark curls smooshes into hers. The faint sound of a child mimicking the smooch of a kiss can be heard as the overexaggerated gasp of the woman causes the toddler to squeal. “That was such a sweet kiss, Benny. Can mommy have another one?” The sweet voice soured the air as the sobbing woman mournfully watches her baby boy.

The baby she failed.

Miguel approaches behind her and slowly takes the mouse from her weak grasp. The broken woman sighs as she realizes her miggy is here with her now, but doesn’t turn to look at him as he pauses the video. Her baby’s matching eyes stare right back at her before Miguel turns the chair around to face him as his mask disintegrates. His eyes glow red under the light of the monitors as he searched her sore eyes. Her face was red with a noticeable bruise along the left side of her face. Tears and snot crusted over her soft features as her lips remained turned into a trembling whisper. Her pupil shone in self-loathing and searching for his comfort. He could tell that this episode isn’t just one of her low days, something happened.

Something happened and he wasn’t here to stop it.

Miguel closes his eyes as his hand caresses her cheek. The warmth of her flushing face nuzzling into his palm allowed him to ground his rage as he focuses his gaze back onto his beloved.

“Mi luz, ¿qué pasó?” He seethes as he looks deep into her eyes.

She shakes her head as she tries to avoid looking into his concerned ruby gaze. The glass bridge was already cracked as she internally debated with sobbing everything that happened into his warm embrace or to protect her friend from the wrath she knows Miguel will unleash if he knows what was said. The warmth of his other palm cupping her cheek, guiding her to a wandering eye to look at his frowning face nearly broke her.

“It was nothing, Miggy…”She whispered as her voice trembled again. She tried to control her eyes from unknowingly confessing while she tries to bite the wobbling pout. “It was an accident…”

“What.” Miguel runs his thumb under her abused mouth as a piece of her disheveled hair was swept back. “Happened?” His demand is punctuated as he holds her in his stare. His eyes burned with barely contained fury and protectiveness as he studied her reactions. “Odio verte como la suya, mi amor.” He admits with a sigh.

Leaning forward, Miguel places a firm kiss on her forehead as his beloved’s breath shudders at his touch. The gentle heat under his touch left her trembling as the glass began to crack. “Let me ease your pain…” He whispers as he trails his kisses down to her eyelids. “These eyes are meant to be filled with happiness, not sorrow…” The cracks deepen as he gently kisses her nose. “I can’t undo what has happened…” The corners of her lips were caressed by his as his nose brushed against her cheeks causing her eyes to meet his mirrors. Her sorrow and helplessness are reflected in his ruby eyes as he kneels on the ground between her legs. A silent plea breaks the resolve she built as he mutters into her ear.

“Please, mi sol, at least let me feel your pain too…It's me and you against the universe remember…Por favor no me dejes solo ... No quiero perderte de nuevo.” He begs as the tension shatters.

With her arms snaking around his shoulders, the little spider confesses all that happened hours prior into his ear. Each detail, each scar, burned into his mind as she clung to his neck and hair. His inferno of rage almost imploded until he looked back into her eyes again. The relief of letting go of all of her troubles made her face look years younger as she looked at him with her big vulnerable eyes.

Hobie will have to wait. His love needed him now.

In a silent nod, Miguel wrapped her weak legs around his waist before he stood up. Feeling her snuggling into his throat, he carries her toward her room down the hallway while the annoying robot follows them to clean up the mess. As he enters the room, he releases some of his anger by smashing the bug with his foot.

“What was that, Miggy?” She croaks as she weakly tries to look over his shoulder.

“Just a bug,” He sighs as he approaches her dresser and grabs his spare set of clothes from his drawer. “You want your clothes or mine?”

“Yours…” She shyly admits as he feels the heat returning to the cheek on his neck.

“Muy bien, niña bonita. Lo que quieras.” He whispers as he grabs another set of clothes that he knows will swallow her. With that, he carries them into her personal bathroom and spent the night slowly bringing back his sunshine.

~~~~~~~~

A deep scream rings out through the Lobby as they see a flash of blue fury tackles the residential metal head into the ground. Peter hurries to save his colleague along with a few other Spidermen as Mayday laughs at the anarchist getting thrashed by the clawed man spewing Hispanic curses at him.

~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Mi luz, ¿qué pasó? - My light, what happened?

mi sol - my sun

Por favor no me dejes solo ... No quiero perderte de nuevo. -Please don't leave me alone...I don't want to lose you again

~~~~~~~

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silhouetteonpaper · 28 days ago

Text

Red Remains

Summary: The Red Room will always haunt you, just as much as it haunts your girlfriend. The two of you can only hope to take down the Red Room once and for all, but something stands in your way. That’s when you’re forced to choose between the love of your life, and your biggest enemy: your father. Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader WC: 3,545 Warnings/Themes: Gun use, mentions of being a Widow, blood, death, trauma, major angst, fluff A/N: I can’t stop writing angst it’s actually a problem, but I’m really proud of this one!

“There’s a letter for you.” Natasha informed you, her voice still raspy after her morning run. She had just returned into the warmth of the compound, grabbing the mail on her way back up the long driveway. Littered amongst random bills and packages—likely full of Tony’s random parts he’d needed for a new project—was the simple white envelope.

She originally invited you on her early morning jog—just like she does every day, but you declined. It was too cold for you, the winter air already seeping under your skin. You were perfectly content inside, and Natasha knew that. You always preferred to be tucked away in the cozy living room. It didn’t hurt for her to ask though, and she always would.

You weren’t expecting any mail, but gratefully took the envelope as she handed it over. “Huh, wonder who it’s from.” You thought aloud, quickly noticing the lack of a return address on the back. Your furrowed brow was short lived as Natasha planted a kiss on the top of your head, capturing your full attention as you turned to give her a real kiss.

The two of you leaned into one another, her leaning over the couch. You could feel the chill that had settled on her cold lips, your warmth slowly melting it away. “I’m going to go shower, let’s do breakfast after.” She eventually pulled away, squeezing your shoulder before leaving you alone on the couch. With the envelope still in hand, you studied it. Not a crinkle or fold in sight, the compound’s address written in black ink on the back. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it had been months since you last received mail—and that was just your aunt sending a happy birthday card.

Shrugging, you ripped open the seal, pulling out the small paper inside. The note was brief, yet it made your heart skip a beat.

The corner of 29th and 54th, tonight at 10:00pm. Go alone.

A request for your presence, or more a demand. You didn’t need to question who the sender was, you already knew. Your father’s jagged cursive writing, sprawled across the paper. He wanted to meet up with you for the first time in years; but knowing him, it wouldn’t be the usual reunion between father and daughter.

As a child, you were raised in the Red Room. Days spent training to be the best agent, the most intelligent spy, and the finest daughter a father could ask for. Your father was the head of recruitment for the Red Room; so devoted to his job that he recruited his own daughter. From the age of four, you were molded into a Widow. Even as a toddler, most of your days were spent among the sinister walls of the Red Room. You didn’t have a choice, it was your entire family’s livelihood. Or what was left of your family anyway.

That’s how you met Natasha, two souls bonded over a lifetime of traumatic history—now living peacefully on the other side of the war. When she had initially been rescued, you were left in the dust. Due to your relationship with the department head, they assumed you’d be in cahoots with the organization. But they couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

There was always a part of you that longed for an escape, that had hoped to see the world outside of your father’s corrupt lenses. This can’t be it, you’d repeat to yourself night after night in an attempt to stay sane—to keep hope alive. Outside of the Red Room, there had to be more of a purpose for young girls; you couldn’t give that last shred of motivation up.

Eventually, the rescue team came back—this time with a certain redhead on their side. She was the one who insisted they returned to rescue you, along with a few new stragglers. With the two of you freed from the retrains of the Red Room, there was no stopping the relationship you were forced to swallow day after day in those walls. You both grew into the best versions of yourselves—taking the Widow training and turning into something better. Two Widows turned Avengers, a nearly perfect tale.

But it wasn’t so perfect in the end, considering your father was blood and blood is connected for life. That was what he used to say, repeating it every day until it was ingrained in you; until it seeped within the very blood that kept you alive. Natasha of course had an opinion on this, but she had her own complicated history with family. No one could know what it was like to betray your father like that, not even Natasha.

She insisted you cut all ties with him, so you did. It was for the best, especially when every reminder of the Red Room was like a punch to the gut. After that, she wasn’t going to push any harder, especially when the mission to kill Dreykov was in full fruition. You knew she wouldn’t dare go near your father, she couldn’t. As much as she wanted to strangle every Red Room official, she wasn’t going to betray your trust.

Yet it would never be that simple; when Dreykov was killed, your father took over. Now there was a huge target on his back, and the worst part is he knew that. He knew your girlfriend wanted to kill him, but the appeal to your trust kept his name out of hot water. He knew Natasha was loyal, but also a Widow he raised himself. He knew you both too well.

The second you and Natasha learned your father took over, you made it a priority to sit down and talk about it. She expressed her concern about all the little girls that would be hurt next, and you validated that. Neither of you wanted a repeat of the Red Room. In turn, you shared how he’s your father, and that you can’t kill him. She validated that. Neither of you wanted to destroy the small pieces of your families that were still left.

So you were both stuck at a stalemate, trying your hardest to keep the Red Room in check without dealing a life-ending blow to the man in charge. It was infuriating for Natasha, yet she kept that hidden. You felt guilty every day, yet you kept that hidden.

You were unsure what his request for a meeting tonight was about, but you didn’t like the sound of it. You didn’t like how much he knew, or how much power he had. But the thing that worried you the most was what would Natasha think? Surely she’d want to come—watch from afar and make sure you were safe. But if things got heated… she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot first and ask later. That was what scared you.

The idea that next crossed your mind made you feel even more guilty. What if you didn’t tell Natasha? You both had been inseparable since becoming official, but some things were meant to be done alone, right? You’d told each other everything, communicated efficiently… it would kill you to break that streak. But it would hurt even worse if she tried to kill your father when she had the chance.

So you made a decision; get tonight over with without telling Natasha. You could easily execute the plan, seeing as you are a Widow—taught to maneuver through even the toughest of challenges. But Natasha is exactly the same, a spy raised to be aware of everything. For your meeting to go untraced, you’d have to concoct a lie.

The second Natasha returned to the living room with damp hair, you realized how hard it would be to walk on eggshells; hyper aware of how you were behaving so she wouldn’t sense anything was off. “I’m going to make pancakes, want some?” You asked, deciding it would be easier to keep yourself busy.

“I’d love some, thank you.” Her response was soft, and the guilt inside you grew. Since the Red Room, you had both become different people—putting the lying and hiding behind you. It was a part of your job as a Widow, to withhold information and practically become a different person. But now, your only job was supposed to be ‘loving girlfriend’. If only you could be both at the same time.

Luckily, the day didn’t progress terribly. You were able to form out a plan, acting enthusiastic when regaling Natasha on how your ‘old friend’ reached out to grab drinks. “She wants to meet up at a bar in the city, I’ll just be gone for an hour or so.” You explained, getting no push-back from the redhead. You were a social person, always picking up new friends here and there even in your few years out of the Red Room. It was believable enough, or at least you’d hoped so. Natasha hadn’t said anything, and if she was suspicious she wasn’t showing it. All good signs of getting away with your lie. She trusted you, thankfully, but that made this whole situation break your heart even more.

As day turned into night, the clock began to near 10:00pm. The cool leather of your jacket slid on with ease, a warm outer-layer to keep you protected from the night’s chill. It was time; the mystery meeting with your father that had the chance to change everything. You weren’t sure what to expect from him, but your gut said it wouldn’t be good.

“I’m headed out!” You called out into the abyss of the compound, knowing Nat would hear you.

Sure enough, her voice echoed up the hall. “Have fun! Love you!” She doesn’t suspect a thing. Your heart ached, but this was something you had to do. You laced on your boots, making sure you had everything before adventuring into the city. That’s when your eyes met something strange, hidden inside one of the various shoes lined up by the front door. A pistol, tucked away in one of Natasha’s boots. Sighing, you assumed it was one of her many hidden guns. She had always tucked away protection in various places, just in case. Ultimately, it was smart on her part. Tonight, you were going to need something, just in case. So, you pocketed the gun—even if you were sure you wouldn’t have to use it.

The cool air hit your cheeks with a harsh gust of wind as the front door opened. No wonder you hated winter. Persisting through the chill, it was time to face tonight head on. Journeying to the city by subway was easy, even easier than worrying about the tracking devices on all the compound’s vehicles. Hiding your secret meeting was the difficult part, but not nearly as difficult as what you went through in the Red Room. And you were about to re-hash that nightmare face-to-face with the man who caused it all.

The city lights at night were breathtaking, almost as much as the anxiety you swallowed the second your feet hit the corner of 29th street. Your steps were soft on the concrete, a subconscious habit after learning what happens when a Widow wasn’t stealthy. His constant reminders kept repeating in your head. Don’t let them see you falter. Don’t let them see the girl behind the figure of a woman.

“My beautiful daughter.” His voice harshly echoed in your ears, making you unsure if your mind was still playing tricks or if he was somewhere nearby. Your head turned so quickly you nearly got whiplash. “Always staying vigilant, I see?” Sure enough, he was right there. The man with a stern expression and furrowed eyebrows that never relented. But now he had gray hairs peeking out, maybe a stronger prescription of glasses, and a tone in his voice that he didn’t deserve to use. Like he knew you as a daughter, and not a weapon.

“How can I not, when I’m so used to the knives in my back at every corner?” You retaliated, unafraid of his threatening presence. You were too bitter to let him get away without a few jabs.

“I gave you everything, yet I couldn’t teach you to be grateful, eh?” His words were even sharper than knives in your back, yet you wouldn’t dare flinch under his gaze. You couldn’t, not when he’d raised you to be one of the best teenage assassins known to humankind.

You crossed your arms, keeping your posture meticulously straight. “Why’d you want to meet?” He chuckled lightly, like the meeting was a light and airy reunion between two family members.

“All business, I did teach you well after all.” It took everything in you not to throw a punch, making him eat his words—or even regret his actions. Instead, you kept your arms crossed, fingernails digging into the leather of your jacket. “Natasha, that girlfriend of yours. I don’t like how much she’s in my face, like a fly on a hot day. Every day, I wake up and see her cohort of agents trying to dig their way into my system. It’s annoying, really. I just swat them away, and zap, a graveyard of flies.”

Your eyes narrowed. He was threatening you. He was threatening Natasha. But he wasn’t done yet. “And to think, my own creation—Natasha, betraying me like this? She was a waste of time, a waste of potential really.” He was trying to get you angry—and the worst part was, it was working.

The man before you didn’t feel like a father. He felt like a stranger. A stranger who was threatening the only person who made you feel like you were loved. Your father was the reason you felt you’d never be loved, yet somehow in the end it was his actions that led you to Natasha. A perfect storm of terror turned into something beautiful, but in the end he would continue his path of destruction no matter what. You needed to end the cycle.

You didn’t know when it happened, but suddenly you realized your hand was tracing around the figure of the pistol in your jacket pocket. Like a kid fidgeting with a loose thread, your fingers were entertained by the idea of pulling it out. The droning of his voice was almost asking for it, one silver bullet to end his reign of destruction for good.

“You think you’re so clever.” You started, hand gripping the gun as your words formed.

He chuckles abrasively. “I would hope so, running an elaborate system of Widows and all.”

For once, you smiled. Not at his words, but at the humor of the situation. It was almost too perfect. “No, you’re so focused on the next girl whose life you’re going to ruin, you’re not even worried about your own daughter. You think that just because I’m blood, I could never really betray you.” Each word was punctuated with your building anger, but he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest.

“Ah, don’t be so bitter you don’t get all the attention these days. I did reach out to you, no?” He almost made it seem like a joke. And that was the final straw. You drew your gun, the barrel pointed dead-center of your father’s head. Like a lost apology that never made its way to you, you were going to be the bigger person and return it anyway.

The click of the gun rang inside your ears; your father’s widened eyes were priceless. “I wonder if blood is connected through life and death?” Your remark made him silent, too silent. You’d never heard him quiet for that long. No insults, no comments, no excuses. He knew it was time, he’d pushed too far.

The echo of the bullet felt like your father’s words were ricocheting inside your mind. The vibration of the gun in your hand made you feel like a Widow with a task. And you carried it out to perfection. His body was limp, a slow fall to the ground like your future after he wrapped his dirty hands around it. He hadn’t brought protection, he didn’t think he would need it with his own daughter. His own blood. You had betrayed him, and you didn’t even flinch.

You didn’t run with urgency back to the compound; your steps were calm and quiet. The empty subway screeched the entire ride home, yet you couldn’t hear it over the loudest silence that had ever plagued your mind. His drilling voice, his orders, his never-satisfied ego, it was gone. And there was nothing taking up the empty space.

“How was getting drinks with-“ Natasha’s eager voice cut off in mere seconds. Her first sighting of you was your stoic expression, emotionless. But even more concerning than that was the blood splattered across your shirt. “What the hell happened?” She wasn’t angry, but her voice was louder than usual. It bounced across the empty space in your mind.

You dropped the gun on the floor, brushing past Natasha with an unwavering expression of apathy painted across your face. You’d never acted this way before, let alone taken a gun anywhere but on missions since becoming an Avenger. You didn’t like violence. But this wasn’t you, this was who your father left in his stead. A Widow.

“Babe… What's going on? Her words were cautious, almost like she was scared of you. But Widows don’t get scared. That’s what your father said, what he forced you to believe. Widows weren’t allowed to feel, to think. They just did what they were told.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure what to do with your body. No one was ordering you to do anything… yet your mind couldn’t think for itself. In the silence, the words escape your lips in a desperate attempt to keep the overbearing emptiness at bay. “I killed him.”

Your words didn’t have much meaning to Natasha. “You killed who?” She stepped toward you slowly without any sudden movements. You didn’t know it, but she could sense the feeling that you were falling back into the habits of a Widow. She lived it herself, afterall. Your minimal movements, like waiting for your next order—unphased by any past actions. It was easy to see the presence of a Widow seeping to the surface.

“I killed my father. The Red Room will collapse once and for all.” Your words should’ve been a relief, but they hit Natasha like a kick to the stomach. It would knock her down, but she’d bounce back. You knew it was what she wanted. You did it for her. For both of you.

She didn’t speak—instead, Nat walked right up to you, her eyes locked on yours. The warm glint was absent from your gaze, pupils unfocused and hazy. She placed both her hands on either side of your face, hoping to provide any of that missing warmth you needed so desperately. She scanned your expression for a sign of the person that left the compound mere hours ago, but only the ghost of a young girl remained.

“Why did you do it?” She asked like a parent questioning their kid about stealing candy. Natasha would’ve never guessed you’d pull the trigger yourself—not because you weren’t capable, she could never force another to kill their own father. She always expected it would be her to finish the job. But that narrative was only her imagination, and there you were standing with his blood on your hands.

“I should have done it years ago, before he ruined the lives of so many more.” And there it was, a tear rolling down your cheek. The presence of empathy slowly returning, yet still clouded by the nothingness inside. You had nothing left to give. Nothing left to speak for.

“Hey,” Natasha’s voice remained soft, her thumb moving to wipe the tear away. “No one could’ve asked you to kill blood. You did it on your own terms, and that’s all I wanted for you.” Those words were all it took for you to sob; streams of tears falling down your face, your knees quickly giving out as you fell into Natasha’s arms.

The biggest monster in your closet was gone, and you were terrified to see the emptiness. Sometimes, the darkness itself is even scarier than what might be inside it. Because it left you alone. But you weren’t alone, even without any family left. You still had your past, and she was holding you in her arms as you cried.

She wasn’t going to let go, not until the Widow remaining inside of you was smothered out with love. And you weren’t going to leave her, even if that meant waking up to see your past everyday—you wouldn’t change it for the world. Because Natasha wasn’t just your past, she was the reason for your future. She was the reason you lived to fight another day, and not just as a Widow. As a woman, who had the agency to finally fight for herself. That’s when you realized you were no longer the remnants of a broken Widow. You were finally the girl you wished to be all those years ago; a girl loved by someone she loved in return.

#marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader

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razzledazzlebeach · 3 months ago

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Daryl Dixon took awhile to age mentally

As I read more and more analysis about Daryl and rewatch some of the earlier seasons, I wonder if it was intended for his character to have some kind of age regression issue. (I didn't do, like, extensive research, I just looked into some CPTSD and age regression signs on a few different sites, so this is just an idea I'm tossing out in hopes of hearing some other perspectives!)

The first situation that really catches my attention is his reaction to Merle being left in Atlanta. Now, obviously, this would be an incredibly emotional time for anyone and it's not entirely out of place to just say he was very distraught over the news and anyone could have reacted the same way he did. I just think that the specific way he did might have some signs. If you think about a grown man, especially one who was raised in a very macho household, you would assume that their reaction might be to storm out or yell at someone. Although Daryl did yell, he also started crying and pacing. It seemed almost as if he was having a full-on meltdown. Some signs of age regression are meltdowns (Ranting, shouting, insulting others, threatening others, whining, angry tears, or getting physically violent) that ring any bells?

I couldn't find a gifs of that exact moment :(

It probably didn't help that the entirety of the camp was staring at him as all of this happened. Temper tantrums can happen because someone is scared/ashamed and can't regulate themselves. (Like sensory overload.)

Another thing that I want to kind of address is the way Rick responds to Daryl when he's having these sorts of meltdowns. Throughout the series, and in the third episode, we see Rick bending down almost horizontally just so he can make eye contact with Daryl. He speaks to him like he's a child, and instead of feeling insulted, Daryl actually takes comfort in it and calms down!

"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic, do you think we can manage that?"

What is age regression?

We all know that Daryl was abused as a child, and trauma like that can sort of freeze the brain. This is a quote I really like that explains it: “It doesn’t necessarily make you stuck at a certain age, but instead, [you are] acting out the emotional wounding that happened at that age,” Lapides adds." People may start to regress because they are triggered or feel threatened, and an apocalypse seems like it would cause a constant trigger. Daryl might be reverting back to childlike behaviors as a trauma response. (honorable mention being the nail biting, but that's a bit of a reach) Shane being the way that he was could have also been a trigger for him.

One of the symptoms of age regression is overly clingy behavior. And you are probably thinking, "well, if there's anything Daryl has, it's not clingy behavior. He's a loner." I disregarded this too for awhile before I really thought about it. He is highly independent when he's doing things he's comfortable in, like being in the woods or going for runs. But when it comes to making decisions or being social, Daryl immediately clings to someone who he knows will do it for him. Most of his life he had Mere to hide behind. The most outgoing and shameless person alive. I don't think Merle ever asked Daryl his opinion on anything. He would decide, and Daryl would follow, and I think Daryl took a lot of comfort in that. So when Merle was gone, he latched onto Rick because he was the best choice. He knew Rick was a very righteous man who had plenty of leadership qualities. He knew Rick would make decisions for him, and give him directions.

Carol and Rick's mothering

Circling back to the way Rick would react to Daryl's outbursts, carol sometimes did the same thing. I know some people ship them, but honestly, at least in the earlier seaons, I got major mother/son vibes from the two of them. Especially when Beth died and she was trying to teach him how to grieve. The forehead kisses, the pookie nickname, all of it seemed to point in that direction. There was also another time Rick pulled the "Can we manage that?" move, and it was during Aiden and Glenn's fight in S5. He made sure to get low enough to make eye contact, and block his pacing. He kept telling Daryl that "We can't do this now." It all just looks a lot like he and carol are parenting Daryl, if only in moments where he is feeling intense stress and that trauma triggers.

Anyways, this was just a few ideas I was tossing around, and very clearly this in my first analysis lol, any thoughts?

#twd #age regression #character analysis #fictional characters #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead #carol peletier #rick grimes #shane walsh #childhood abuse #trauma response #trauma regressor

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breeyn · 1 year ago

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An essay rebutting the “bad writing” claims of s2 ofmd. Spoilers herein.

I’ll preface this with saying you’re obviously allowed to like and dislike whatever you want. I am in no way opposing that. And your reasons are your reasons. Have at. (Also - this is a collection of observations from the past few days, I’m not calling anyone out)

I AM going to rebut the idea that season two was poorly written and lost the spirit of what the show is about.

My favourite movie of all time is Empire Strikes Back. It’s been my favourite movie since I was four. I’m pretty sure it’s a fave of David Jenkins, too. He and Taika have made absolutely no attempt to hide their love of all things 80’s - Prince, the Princess Bride, Kate Bush, Star Wars, etc.

I have ancient video tapes (that I can’t play because who has a vcr) where Lucas is interviewed by Leonard Maltin? Malkin? I dunno. Who cares. Maltin asks him about the Star Wars (original trilogy) story arc. Lucas says “in act I, you introduce all the characters. In act II, you put them in a situation they can’t get out of, and in act III, they get out of it.”

That’s how it works. This is how stories and literary structures work.

Of course you’re not satisfied with season two. You’re not supposed to be.

The arguments I have read on why s2 loses the spirit of s1 is because no one heals. No one learns anything. No one moves forward properly. The person who makes the biggest move towards healing dies. The two main characters end the show doing the exact fucking thing they had promised themselves and each other they wouldn’t do. Our romantic lead still doesn’t understand his value or make any headway on addressing his tragic flaw. It makes no goddamn sense.

My gremlins in weird: it’s not supposed to. In Act 2, EVERYONE LOSES. This is how it goes.

I’ve read a lot of people saying “but this felt like a series finale, not a season finale.” We all know that outside politics play a part here, the strikes make everything precarious. I remember the last writers strike. It destroyed tv for fifteen years. Anyone remember Pushing Daisies? Some of y’all have never had your fave show cancelled with zero resolution for the characters and it shows.

Daddy J did us a kindness. He softened the blow of a tough season. After the brutal cliffhanger of s1, he gave us a little softness and hope. All those things you’re mad aren’t resolved? It’s because THE STORY ISN’T OVER.

No one on earth thinks “stuff all your trauma into a box and ignore it” is good advice. A way to actually live. This show did not have enough screen time to throw out dialogue for no reason. There was foreshadowing in s1 for s2, and there is foreshadowing for s3 in s2. This is a well-crafted story by very smart people who care very much for these characters. There is zero chance Frenchie explained the box in his head for no reason. The reason people have not resolved their trauma and growth is because they haven’t done it *yet*.

And friends - it’s not thinly veiled. They straight up fucking tell us what they’re doing.

Luke Skywalker spends the first two movies fucking up and desperately trying to prove himself and just generally being an idiot. Sound familiar? He ignores the lessons he is supposed to be learning to go off and do what he feels like doing, and loses fucking badly. At the end of Empire, Han is gone, Luke and Leia wave goodbye to the Falcon that has Lando and Chewy - the rest of their crew - aboard. Everyone has lost everything they care about. Vader is undefeated. Yoda is pissed. Nothing is resolved.

You see where I’m going?

If you think I’m stretching this too far, welp, when Ed tells Stede he loves him - the climax of the finale - Stede quotes Han fucking Solo. Like - *it’s right there*. The story structure. The reason everything is unresolved.

So yeah. They wave goodbye to their ship because they have wounds to heal (like Luke’s hand). The people aboard the ship have things to find. Ed and Stede have *not* learned their lesson about whims and how not to be like Anne and Mary. It’s not stupid that they’re doing the same thing, and it’s not pointless that we were shown Anne and Mary. It’s all relevant.

The resolution comes in Act 3. None of these people are done. The story is far, far from over. And just in case the studios want to be dicks about it, David Jenkins was lovely enough to not repeat my enduring heartbreak over Pushing Daisies.

Thank you, @davidjenks 🖤

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 5 months ago

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May I request some full HCs of the M6 with an ex coliseum fighter MC?

The Arcana HCs: M6 with an ex-Coliseum fighter MC

Julian

His first thought when he laid eyes on you after he broke into your shop was "wow, they must have some stories to tell!"

Oddly enough, the physical (and mental/emotional) scars you carry from your time in the Coliseum are big reasons for why he chooses to trust you - and, eventually to cherish you. You've been through it

As someone who's had quite the wild life himself, he can trust you to understand how difficult experiences do and don't define who you are. He knows if he talks about life with pirates, you'll get it

If it's his turn to have a nightmare, he doesn't have to worry that talking about his bad dreams will expose you to new horrors. If it's your turn, he's a light sleeper for good reasons

Tends to pry for stories about your time there, but in a good way that pushes you to process what it was like

Checked over all the scars you accumulated there and regularly asks after any lingering chronic pain from the injuries

Once he's gotten past the initial flirtatious comments and the awkwardness of opening up, he'd be lying if he doesn't find the scars and background very attractive. Rough him up anytime ~

Asra

They're in two minds about the whole situation and they're not totally sure how to proceed with it when discomfort isn't their thing

He's glad you're not there anymore. He often wonders if you coming back without memories was actually a merciful thing, if it meant not remembering the details of your trauma

They hate seeing all the marks of pain and violence on your body, because it's like a reminder to them of one of the many ways they somehow let you down or left you alone when you needed help

Deep down, however, it's beyond comforting to him to know what you're capable of surviving without help, because he knows he can't always be there for you no matter how hard he tries

They know that if you're ever in a situation again where your life is threatened, you'll fight viciously to preserve it. They hate that you experienced it and hope you never will again, but they're relieved

All that to say, he doesn't know how to talk about it and he's not going to broach the subject unless you do

Still committed to loving you and being open with you. They know you, they know you're good, and they want you to know them too

Nadia

When she first met you, she assumed the scars must have come from fighting in a war. The Coliseum didn't occur to her

She doesn't even have the clearest memories of it, since she only really saw it after being married to the man who instated it. That doesn't stop her from feeling immensely guilty about it

This happened to you while she had the power to push back against it, and she didn't. There was so much going wrong that she never addressed because she was holed up in her tower, hiding

That only spurs her to try to make things right. You do receive a halting but heartfelt apology from her early on, and a respectful invitation to share your experience with her at your comfort

Just as you've helped her to move on and recover, she wants to do the same for you. You have a powerful skill set. To the extent that you're willing to, she'd love to see you put it to noble use

How do you feel about teaching martial arts? She'll put you in touch with Nahara, and will help you fund a teaching studio for anyone who could use the coaching

Or you could be her personal bodyguard ...

Muriel

More than anything, he's just relieved he never had to kill you. He already has so much regret to live with, and the thought of ending the person who would've made life good again is horrific

That doesn't make you easy to be around at first. Everything about you brings back the memories he wants to leave behind

The scars that match his, the way you react to movement, even the way you walk to compensate for the drag of chains you don't wear anymore. You're the un-hateable mirror of everything that hurts

And that's just after the first few days. Truthfully, you scare him, and even after building a new life with you there are still moments when being perceived by you terrifies him, because you get him

You don't need words or confessions to understand the hell that's shaped him so profoundly. And even when he can't stand to carry someone else's pain on top of his own, he still understands yours

It's precisely that forced vulnerability that makes loving you so profoundly healing. He loves you for you, he loves you for the pain you've experienced, and since it's the same as his own, he's learning to love himself begrudgingly in the process

Portia

Not put off by you at all, which is extremely rare for you

She finds it attractive if anything. You look like someone who's really lived. You look like someone who gives as good as they get

It makes her a little uncomfortable to be around at first. She's so quickly caught up in the coolness and excitement of your violent past that she can get borderline insensitive with her questions

What's it like to be in a fight? Who's the biggest person you fought? Did you really have to kill all of your opponents? How many did you kill? Was there a lot of blood? What weapons did you use?

Does a complete 180 the first time she sees the emotional and mental toll it's taken on you. She's so empathetic, it takes all of five seconds for her to understand this is trauma before she's weeping

So very happy to be your anchor and grounding presence. She will hold you and grieve with you and never, ever, ever look at you differently for what you were a part of. You're not scary to her

Almost overprotective when it comes to how other people perceive you. Someone's acting like you're the scariest person in the room and making you uncomfortable? She's about to prove them wrong

Lucio

After spending three years as a goat ghost, he doesn't care who you are, just talk to him - oh, his survival depends on your good graces? And he had you stuck as a Coliseum fighter? Hmmm

Tried to hide it, but he was scared at first. He was smart enough to know that you had good reason to dislike him, and therefore plenty of reason to further mess him up in such a vulnerable state

But you didn't. Which made him confused. And curious

Tell him about your time there, then! What was it like being in the ring? Being a participant in his favorite fight of yours?

Oh. Oh, it was that bad? ..... oh.

He carries guilt for every painful repercussion you experience. It was shame, and now it looks more like remorseful responsibility, but he doesn't need it rubbed in his face to know it was wrong

What he also knows is a valuable lesson you taught him, which is both the importance and possibility of making things right

You will never have a nightmare he won't be ready to comfort you for. You will never have an injury he won't be getting his clothes dirty for treating it. You will always, always have him by your side

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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frvnkcastles · 6 months ago

Text

THE BEAST INSIDE OF ME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank doesn’t think he deserves you.

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped, reader has unspecified trauma, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: This is 1000% inspired by Type O Negative’s ”Love You to Death” which is one of my fave songs and in my opinion very Frank-coded (maybe that’s why I love it so much). Hope you enjoy!

Frank didn’t deserve you. That was what he firmly believed — that you were too good and he was too fucked up to be worthy of you, that everything he touched fell apart and he didn’t want that to happen to you. He wanted nothing but the best for you, and he just couldn’t believe that he could be that.

But when you were tiptoeing the line between friendship and dating, he allowed himself to be selfish. He tried to let go of his fears and give himself a chance to be happy. You were the first person after Maria he thought could actually make that come true, the first person after her that gave him hope and a glimpse of what it was like to care for someone again. Getting to know you was exhilarating, the thrill of falling in love caught him by surprise but for the time being, he didn’t resist the feeling.

Then the fateful night of you opening up to him came, and he realized that he’d just end up hurting you.

”So, yeah, I don’t really have a great track record with loved ones. It’s hard for me to trust people, but I really like you, Frank”, you shared with him, having explained your family history and past relationships that had all ended up poorly — you seemed to be a magnet for bad people, but Frank had made you believe there was someone for you, too. He made you feel special, in a way that no one ever had before, and you couldn’t help but smile as you gazed at him from your end of the couch.

He shifted uncomfortably on the cushions, casting an ashamed look down at his calloused hands. He had let himself get close to you, and the regret was starting to seep in. Not because he saw you any differently now, no, you were still beautiful and strong to him, and he adored that. But he feared he’d only hurt you further, that he’d break what you had worked so hard to put back together, and he refused to watch it all unfold.

So, he began to pull away. Slowly, at first, in a way that you didn’t really even notice. But eventually it became too obvious, from the way he dodged your calls to his blatant absence in your life. He no longer knocked on your door in the middle of the night nor did he stumble through your window, and when you tried to meet him halfway, you couldn’t find him at any of your usual spots. You sent him countless texts, and he… he just stopped responding.

You felt so stupid. You cried for days but it didn’t soften the ache in your heart in the slightest. You had let your guard down and fallen for the one man you had deemed worth your trust, and you had opened up to him, only for him to leave you in the dust. You connected the dots — clearly, what you had told him about your traumatic past had been too much for him and your baggage too heavy to carry. It was a fault in you.

Maybe it would have made you feel better to know that he was suffering, too. He hadn’t expected severing ties with you to be so difficult, but every night, his finger hovered over the call button, and every morning he woke up to the thought of you. He had fallen for you hard, but he was convinced that contacting you would only be selfish. He brought death and destruction wherever he went, and he didn’t want the violence surrounding him to touch you.

Turns out, even if he distanced himself from you, the chaos in his life could still reach you. That was confirmed for him when he got a message from you and he, against his better judgment, opened it, only to see a video of you tied up to a chair and gagged, tears running down your face. With the message came an address — an obvious trap, but Frank didn’t hesitate to pack his guns and hop behind the wheel.

Your captor snatched the rag in your mouth and loomed over you menacingly, a sick grin twisting his lips. ”You’re making our job easy for us. Castle made a mistake getting attached to a girl”, he taunted, and bitterly, you barked a laugh at him.

”He’s not coming, asshole. He doesn’t care about me”, you spat at him, your heart breaking all over again as you processed your situation. One second you’re getting into your car, the next you’re in the back of a van. And these men were counting on Frank to come and rescue you. Well, you weren’t holding your breath.

To Frank, it was a no-brainer. This whole time, his one objective had been to keep you safe — of course, he was coming to get you. In no time, he was kicking down the door, guns blazing, and your captors left you alone to duel with the man. They tried their best, but Frank was unstoppable when it came to you.

All you could do was watch in shock and amazement as he slaughtered them all, unfazed by the bloodshed but certainly moved by the fact that he was actually there. After weeks of radio silence, you hadn’t expected to see him ever again, but there he was: homicidal and glorious, stained with his enemies’ blood as he gunned all of them down in his path to you.

Tears blurred your vision when he finally reached you, kneeling in front of you with his bruised hands tenderly cupping your face. ”You okay, sweetheart?” he rasped, and with an unbeatable lump in your throat, you managed a nod. With his knife, he cut you free and your tired body keeled forward into his arms, and he quickly wrapped them around you to support you.

He helped you up to your feet and together, you walked back to his truck, past all the dead bodies. You didn’t feel bad for them, but in some weird way, you were anxious about being in Frank’s presence again. You had begun to accept that he didn’t find you worthwhile, yet he had come to your rescue, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he was just trying to alleviate his own guilt, not wanting your death on his conscience, but regardless of the reason, he was there.

He was there and he was real. And you wanted nothing more than to cling onto his broad chest and never let him go, to beg him to stay, to cry out all your frustration and slap him and kiss him all at the same time. He had never been more beautiful yet more infuriating, and it drove you crazy.

All you did, though, was climb in his truck and sit in silence as he drove you home. You could feel him stealing glances at you, but you didn’t meet his eye, not sure how you’d react if you gave yourself the chance to get lost in the charming darkness of them. You didn’t want to forgive him but at the same time you felt like you should have been the one to apologize and you didn’t really know what to do about that sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Once home, he helped you inside your apartment and awkwardly watched you wrangle your shoes off and your coat off of your weary shoulders. ”Sure you’re aight?” he asked quietly, and still avoiding his gaze, you nodded to confirm.

”They didn’t really do anything. Just snatched me and tied me up”, you explained while rubbing your irritated wrists. You could handle the burn of a rope — what was harder to stomach was the tension between you and Frank.

He sensed it, too, and supposing he didn’t really have a place in your home anymore, he took a step towards the door. ”So, you’re just gonna leave me again?” you asked, not pulling any punches as you called him out. He turned back to face you, and you finally had the courage to look up at him. ”You know what, I’m not okay! You broke my heart, you asshole”, you proclaimed, throwing your arms around in exasperation.

”I had to”, was all he gave you in return, and it made you laugh in disbelief.

”You had to? Is that how terrible it would have been to just be with me? I opened up to you and the next thing I know, you’re avoiding my calls. I thought I could trust you. I thought you could understand what I’ve been through”, you cried out, burying your face in your hands as the tears broke free. You had to fight back a sob, and not wanting to seem weaker than you already were, you turned your back to Frank.

Your words sank in, and regret immediately flooded his systems. He hadn’t thought of it like that, too caught up in his own anxieties to consider what it would look like to you. ”No, hey, listen to me”, he started, gently grabbing your shoulder to turn you back to him. ”I wasn’t… It wasn’t me rejecting you ’cause of what you told me. Everything you shared was just proof of how strong and amazin’ you are”, he insisted, crouching down to be eye level with you, his hands soft on your shoulders.

”Then why did you leave me?” you sobbed, the pain of his abandonment still aching within you, sore to the touch.

Frowning, Frank came to the painful realization that his attempt to keep you safe had come with a greater cost than he had anticipated. Of course, he hadn’t expected you to be okay with him withdrawing from you, but he hadn’t thought you’d gotten as attached as he had. He was completely in love with you, but the idea of you feeling the same way? Completely foreign to him, right up until now as you cried in front of him, evidently stabbed in the heart by his actions.

”I did it ’cause I’m no good for you, sweetheart. I’m… I’m too damaged, too broken and I can’t be fixed. You deserve someone who won’t drag you down with him. I just wanted to give you that chance”, he attempted to reason with you, his own heart shattering at the sound of your sobs.

”I’m damaged, too, Frank. I thought you’d see we could be equals. I felt—I feel connected to you. I wanted to face all those ugly demons together with you”, you managed to get out, trying to calm your breathing as you frantically wiped your eyes with shaky hands. ”I love you, Frank. And I accept you just the way you are”, you sighed, not able to hold it back any longer. In some sick and twisted way, all the time away from Frank had only cemented in the fact that he had stolen your heart.

Acting on impulse, Frank pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You wrapped your own arms around his strong frame, craving the contact, and buried your face into his shoulder. He placed a kiss on your temple, and it made you melt.

”I never shoulda left you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I—I do want you. So badly, you have no fuckin’ idea”, he confessed, his admission making your heart soar.

Gently, you pulled back so you could lock eyes with him. ”I’m right here, Frank. All you have to do is stay with me”, you whispered, and slowly, he nodded.

He took a careful hold of your jaw and leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a deep kiss, one that took your breath away. You closed your eyes and leaned into it, letting him guide you through it, and he did so with admiration and genuine care. He let go only to kiss you again, passionate and slow as he moved, desperate to feel you and taste you.

”Fuckin’ perfect”, he breathed out when he finally broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. ”Been wantin’ to do that a long time, pretty girl.”

Blushing, you leaned in for one more brief kiss. ”Me too. So… are you gonna stay the night?” you asked cautiously, the anxiety in your chest slowly releasing its hold, even more so when he nodded.

”I’m gonna stay as long as you want me to.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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dawndelion-winery · 1 year ago

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For Worse or For Better

Arranged Marriages

Ft. Diluc, Itto, Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli

Diluc:

Your parents were wonderfully close to Crepus, so you knew Diluc from young

He'd always been well-mannered and lovely

That much didn't change even after his trauma

It did hurt when he started shutting you out though

And yes, you did try to call off the engagement that had been set up before Crepus died because you felt he wanted to distance himself from you

You'd only kept it to honour the man's wishes and because Diluc seemed adamant about you

Like, he actually said he would not have anyone else

Not that he pressured you into it though

More of letting you know you didn't have to end it because he most definitely did want you

"Make no mistake, you will be the only person I recite my vows to at the altar. If you long for another, then so be it, but if you want me, then it shall be so."

Itto:

How did this happen?

No, like, fr, how??? Itto doesn't seem like the type to have any thoughts for social climbing and you...well what do you gain from marrying Itto?

Apparently your mother had heard Kujou Sara speak highly of Kuki Shinobu, and since Shinobu worked for Itto, surely he must be a man of even greater talent and character

Now you were having dinner with an extremely boisterous man who ate for three

By the shogun you hoped the bill wouldn't amount to too much

When he suggested a dine and dash? Boy, you were about to just walk right into a cell yourself

It was truly some grace of God that Shinobu came by with Sara and covered your tab (only for you, they made sure to tell Itto off for putting you in such a situation)

"Real sorry about that, honey," the oni said sheepishly. You wanted to hmgive him a piece of your mind, really, when you were certain you'd never hear the end of it at home of you'd gotten a criminal record, but when he slipped his hand in yours, a sheepish grin as he looked at you hopefully, as though pleasing for forgiveness, you found it rather difficult to stay mad.

Childe:

People would kill to be you

The dashing young harbinger?? Who's great with kids??? And very much a family man????

There was only one issue: he hadn't met you yet

His family had written to him about you, eagerly telling him how they were sure they'd found him the perfect match

And he wasn't about to shoot them down when they were so hopeful he'd finally have someone when he was travelling and doing the Fatui's dirty work all the time

So when they'd warmly welcomed you into their home for a simple dinner, you hadn't expected to walk in and see a feast prepared with an empty seat beside yours

You waited for a bit with everyone, wondering who the extra seat was for

And when Childe walked in with a sack full of gifts for all his family members, you sat there awkwardly

Was it an endearing sight? Definitely. But you felt out of place as he pulled out one item after another for everyone

You were certain you wouldn't receive anything, hence the surprise when he sat beside you and handed you a small box

"A little engagement gift for you," he winked. Your mouth hung open, thoughts racing through your mind full of things you wanted to say but weren't sure how - especially not in front of such a crowd, all of whom aww'ed at his gesture. It was after dinner when you'd gotten him alone in the kitchen washing the dishes that you addressed it.

"Engaged? We've only just met Tartaglia."

He tsked at you, playfully leaning in as though he was going to kiss your cheek. When you froze, he grinned by your ear.

"My whole family likes you well enough, and from everything they've told me, I like you well enough too. But if you insist, ice a week before I have to head off. I'm sure I could sweep you off your feet by then, unless you'd like to come with."

Kaeya:

Oh you thought you got lucky when your childhood betrothed grew up to be the charming cavalry captain

Until you realised that charm would never be extended to you because he was just a goofball with you

It was cute though, him picking flower petals with you to determine how your relationship will go

He had a habit of leaving the plucked flower and its final petal with the result on your pillow

(it was always "forever in love" because if it wasn't, he'd just pluck another flower)

You sighed with a laugh at the familiar sight of the plucked flower when you felt arms around your waist as Kaeya embraced you from behind.

You wondered bitterly if there was something wrong between the two of you; you never had that flutter of butterflies in your gut when he was around. Not once did he make your heart leap out of your chest, or cause your lungs to constrict in a way you were sure would suffocate you. Was it a mistake? Yet it didn't feel wrong. There was a frost to his touch that cooled you, calmed you, and almost (most ironically) warmed you.

Zhongli:

Under no circumstances would you ever meet someone who quite commanded the respect and attention of those around him like Rex Lapis did

So when the hooded figure stood before the citizens who so worshiped him, some overly devoted follower enthusiastically proposed a raffle to offer the god a spouse to serve and dote upon him on behalf of the nation

Before he'd even had the chance to decline the offer, the crowd erupted in cheers of agreement, and the flustered god was ushered into a seat as eligible spouses presented themselves before him

You truly had not anticipated the glint that flashed across his eyes as he ever so slightly raised his hood to make eye contact with you

It had been less than a second, and yet all too long as your lungs failed you, the startling amber glow leaving you winded

"I quite like you," he drawled in a low, rumbling hum as he rose from his seat. You looked around, ascertaining that no one else had seen his face, but he didn't seem to like that, as he tilted your chin to have you look at him. Once again, you were faced with the startling gleam of his eyes, so reptilian and sharp. You screwed your eyes shut as he leaned in, the sunlight reflected off his canines. His lips were warm, surprisingly, as they pressed against your forehead.

Taglist: @myluvkeiji @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @cxlrose @astrequa @eowinthetraveler @ajaxstar @boundedbyfate @the-lost-anime-dad @moonbyunniee @greyrain23 @heavenlyfloof

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drakoneve · 1 year ago

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Destined Meetings

request: Hey, do you think you could write something where the reader is related to tig somehow, and they're in charming for work or college and they start a relationship with juice? Cute and a little angsty at first?

pairing: Juice Ortiz x Trager!Reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: club crimes, reader's mom isn't the best + suggested childhood trauma, alcohol and drug (maryj) use

a/n: there will be another part for sure, but i might make this a bit of a mini-series, lmk what you think. happy reading!

Tig hardly ever talked about it, but he'd been married once. He would rather die than ever admit he loved anyone but Dawn and Fawn, but he loved her. And you, his sweet, sweet Y/n.

His heart clenched at the thought of you. You were only two years old at the time of the accident. The day your mother decided she had had enough of Tig and the life he came with and that she needed to run.

It was that day, when your mother pulled out of Charming and never looked back. She only made it two towns over before she took a reckless turn right off an overpass into oncoming traffic.

Tig could remember the look on Unser's face as he approached the older man in the TM parking lot like yesterday, and how he wished he could go back and convince your mom not to go. Or to leave you, at least.

Unser had just began working with the club back then, and this case in particular had always stuck with him. A woman trying to escape her outlaw husband with their baby daughter who ends up getting into a horrific accident that ends up killing them both? One of the saddest stories Unser had ever heard.

Except for the fact none of it was true.

Because there you stood, alive and well, right in front of the Chief's desk.

"I know it sounds crazy," you shake your head, hopeful look on your face. "I wouldn't believe it either, actually. And I don't really have any proof other than my memories, but I'm sure it's him."

The aging polaroid in you had provided him of a much younger Tig and a woman he recognizes to be your mother back when she was pregnant with you.

"No, no," he waves your worries away. "I believe you. In fact, I remember your mother, vaguely, and you look a lot like her."

You grimace. "Yeah, I've been told a few times. So do you know where I can find Alexander?"

Chief Unser pulls a pen from his shirt pocket and begins writing on a slip of paper on his desk. "This is the address of the Teller-Morrow, the automotive shop your dad works at. I would take you there myself, but I'm swamped here."

"Oh, it's no issue," you shrug and take the slip of paper. "I can get there myself. Thank you for everything, though."

You turn and begin to leave when Unser calls for you to stop.

"I forgot to mention, your dad goes by 'Tig.'"

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Juice stretched out his arms and popped his neck while he wiped his hands with a rag. Two weeks of waiting for one part was finally over, and he could get this damn Taurus out of the shop. He tossed the rag into his toolbox when a sleek black car comes rumbling into the lot.

He leaves the garage to get a closer look and notices the car is actually a classic, a well taken care of (or well restored) '69 Chevy. While he admires the car he notices you, too.

Your hair is partly clipped back, with enough loose enough to frame your face in a casual look. You're pretty, and admittedly he'd be more distracted by you but Juice can tell by the look on your face you're nervous. Juice would know, it's a look he's had to learn to hide.

By sight and sound nothing seemed to be wrong with your car, and Juice can't help but wonder why you're here.

You shut the engine off and exit your vehicle, all the while silently composing yourself. Heart thudding in your chest, you wonder if you're doing the right thing.

Juice takes the moment you shut the door to approach further.

"Hello," he greets politely, friendly smile on his face. "I'm Juice, and I'll be taking care of you today. What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh nervously. "Nothing's wrong with her. I'm actually-"

You pause, close your eyes for a second and bite the inside of your bottom lip. Juice can't help but watch you fondly, finding you oddly adorable.

Finally you open your eyes and flash a bright, genuine smile.

Damn, I'm made, he thinks.

"This is gonna sound completely insane," you explain, nervously clasping your hands together. "But, um, I'm looking for Alexa- well, no, Tig, Tig Trager."

Juice raises his brows. "Tig? Uh, I don't know if now's the best time."

It's true, he's currently in Oakland with Jax and Chibs on quick business.

"Look, I know it's inconvenient and you don't know me," you plead. You're closer now and Juice can smell your sweet perfume and practically feel your hopefulness. "But until a couple months ago I had no idea my dad was even alive. And then I found out I was here for weeks before realizing he's here, too."

Your dad? There has to be a story there. Juice raises his hands to either side of your arms, holding you still in hopes to assure you.

"It's okay," he says sternly, but in an endearing way. "Tig's not here right now but he should be soon, so let's head on inside and you can tell me a little bit about you. Just to be sure, no offense."

You smile, relieved to be believed to some extent rather than none. "Thank you, Juice. Thank you."

Juice leads you into the Teller-Morrow through the garage entrance into the larger building. From what you could see on the outside you wouldn't have imagined such a spacious clubhouse inside.

Inside were several pool tables, a couch with mini pieces about, a bar with stools, and other tables each with their own set of chairs. Decorations littered the walls and floors and you laughed to yourself as you noted a nearly full ashtray on almost every surface and a wall completely dedicated to mugshots.

Juice leads you to the bar where he gestures for you to sit as he makes his way around. You slip onto a stool and watch patiently as Juice finds two glasses and turns to you.

"What's your preference?"

You shrug, "Whatever, I'm not partial. On the rocks, though."

He serves you and pours his own drink before setting the bottle down and leaning on the bar on his elbows in front of you.

"So tell me about you," Juice presses softly. He can tell by your fingers circling the rim of your glass that you're not excited for this conversation but he has no choice. "You said you've been here for a few weeks, where'd you live before?"

"Nevada, mostly," you tell him before sipping on your drink. "My mother moved us around a couple times and we lived in Colorado for a while before eventually settling in Sparks."

"Why'd you guys move around?"

You drain the rest of your drink quickly in hopes it'll support you through this conversation. Juice begins to refill your glass without being asked.

"I didn't know it then, but my mom was running from the Sons," you confess.

Juice's eyes widen slightly as he looked you over. What could you know about the club? They were notorious around Charming sure, but with their recent run ins with the ATF has the club struggling and making choices they wouldn't normally make.

You continue, "It wasn't until I graduated high school and I left that she told me my dad was actually alive. Then she told me about the Sons of Anarchy, and everything else I did on my own."

Juice nods, unsure of what to say. He nurses his drink for a moment before reaching for your hand.

"This life is complicated, but we're a family here."

The gesture, simple as it is, riles up all the pent up feelings you've mastered all your life comes rushing forward as tears brim your eyes.

"Family," you repeat and pull your hand from Juice to wipe your tears. "What a weird concept?"

The two of you talk well into the evening and you end up migrating to the couch with a bottle and a large bowl of buttery popcorn. Juice made good company. He's genuine, gunny, and from the way he talks you can tell the Sons are something special to him.

He tells you about himself in turn for the vulnerable information you've given him. You learn he was born and raised in New York before coming to Charming, and he has a little sister behind in the city. Juice tells you he works in the TM garage alongside what he does for the club.

"I'm not stupid," you tell him once you notice his hesitance. "It's not hard to find information on the club from the locals around here."

He chuckles softly, "Yeah, I'm sure. If you have any questions, you can ask me."

Before you can the rumbling of bikes coming into the TM parking lot distracts you. Instinctively you grabbed Juice's hand, but let go just as fast as you'd grabbed him. Luckily before he can say anything the door bursts open and income more Sons.

The first is a younger blond man with piercing blue eyes and you notice the President patch on his left. He greets Juice happily before his eyes look to you, and he looks confused but seemingly brushes it off and goes to the bar.

Your dad walks in near arm in arm with another handsome man with scarred cheeks, obviously older than he is in the polaroid you own, but otherwise he seems the same. Its as if he can feel your gaze as he turns to meet his blue eyes to your own.

You stand, trying to ignore the thumping of your heart in your chest. "Hi, Tig," you greet, silently cursing the waver in your voice. Immediately the polaroid is out of your back pocket and in your hand. "My name's Y/n, and my mom's Y/m/n."

He takes the polaroid from you without a word and holds it carefully in his hands. His friend has stepped away towards Juice, likely for questioning.

"I saw Unser earlier today," you continue on. "He told me that I have a grave here in Charming, so does mom. Funny, considering she always told me you were the dead one."

You take a shaky breath in, trying to keep from bursting into tears. "I just... I wanted you to know I'm not dead, very much alive. I don't, like, expect anything from you I just knew I had to say something."

Tig finally breaks away from the polaroid to meet your eyes again, and it makes you feel a bit better to see his blue eyes are as tear filled as your own.

He raises one hand to cup your cheek, thumb moving to wipe your tears. "Losing you was the worst pain of my life," he admits softly.

His words crumble your resolve, the walls you'd spent your adolescence building to protect yourself fell faster than they were constructed. You practically fall into his arms, and the two of you break down as you hold each other.

As you sob into Tig's chest he merely cradles you the way he wishes he'd been able to all these years. The way he deserved to have been there for you. He holds you tight against him like he's afraid you'll dissipate and it'll be decades before he sees you again.

"We're gonna be okay, baby," he tells you. "We're gonna be okay."

This time, he's not going to be letting you go so easy.

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ineffably-human · 1 year ago

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Nandor's better to Guillermo than I remember from my initial watch. It's still regressive (and it was starting to head that way in 4x10 too, so maybe this just continues from there), he still has times he's thoughtless and dismissive. But he's the one advocating the others listen, and that they do nice things for Guillermo. He's noticed something is wrong just like Laszlo, he just comes to a different conclusion. He listens to an offhand remark from Guillermo that wasn't even directed at him, just to get him a present.

Any shittiness he's engaging in comes from the very idea of Guillermo being a vampire. (The way Nandor brings that up to the others almost feels like he's been floating the idea in his head, which is a whole other thing; I'll see if I'm right with more episodes I guess and we'll take it at face value for now.) And aside from not wanting that to happen because it would change things, maybe lead to Guillermo leaving, etc it's laughable to him right now for the same reasons it would have been laughable to him in season 1 or 2. Guillermo is a little more assertive than in those years, but he's completely returned to the familiar role. He's reacting to Nandor with fear, more than he did even then.

Guillermo's big attitude change came with being a slayer, and now he seems to have forgotten that completely to the point that he doesn't even consider it as one of the reasons the transformation hasn't worked. He wasn't ready, he was in pain, this isn't how he imagined it (insert @cookinguptales's excellent meta on how it's all a big metaphor for virginity loss). And right now he doesn't know what his body is doing, and he's walking around consumed with guilt and imposter syndrome. Becoming a vampire is making him forget other real, important parts of who he is.

I think it's very easy for the vampires to regress - because of time, stagnation, etc - to an earlier point. Guillermo's regression is just as rapid-fire but it's from trauma. His intense desire to not want to talk about it, to wait over two weeks before the camera crew wears him down enough. To try and describe the turning as sexier and more intense and life-changing than it was, only to be jump-scared by Nandor and reminded that what he did was a (fully justified) betrayal. Has he forgotten that if Nandor really did want to kill him, Guillermo's kicked his ass without his now-perfect vision, and has killed dozens of vampires at a time? Or is the thought of hurting Nandor and fracturing that relationship the thing that hurts far worse here?

I'm a little insane about how, while in the process of going behind Nandor's back, while he's right about to get the thing he's ostensibly attached to Nandor for, he's insisting that Nandor will eventually do right by him and really truly cares about him. So much that Derek again asks Guillermo if he's sure about this.

Even more than the love search stuff Nandor dealt with over two seasons, all of this seems tailor-made to address the big unspoken questions of their relationship. What does Guillermo hope to gain as a vampire? How much of that involves his feelings for Nandor? What matters most to Nandor when it's Guillermo vs his own pride, especially if there were a real threat of losing him? Can they actually find their way to eternity together, and what does that look like when they do?

Which is to say, it's absolutely happening this season. And shit's going to get insane on the way.

#i haven't even started on the hypnosis runner and how the theme of this season is absolutely secrecy #that's a whole other (much better) essay #this is just me vomiting some thoughts out #fandom: wwdits #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #nandermo #otp: nandermo #i am a meta gremlin

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hoeforhao · 1 year ago

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🏷 Kidult ▪︎ Choi Seungcheol Fic ▪︎ pt.2

↷ pairing: dad!seungcheol × fem!reader (feat!jeonghan)

↷ genre: heavy angst, fluff towards the end, mentions of childhood trauma, sort of arranged marriage? cheol and reader have a daughter together, lots of dad seungcheol content!!!

↷ summary: can trying to relive the childhood you never got to experience, through your daughter be the reason of your husband's irk?

↷ part: 2/4 pt.1, pt.3, pt.4

↷ w.c: 2.4k+

↷ author's note: part 2 is here at last!! this time I told myself that no matter what I'll keep my promise and post on cheol's birthday 💌 + also part 3 would be like a bonus with quite a lot of smut😏 and comfort at the end obviously duh!

If you want to be added to this fic's taglist, drop a comment under this post ; my ask box is open too♡

"You didn't have to go along with Hannie's proposal you know. He's just naturally manipulative" shifting on the satin sheets beneath that were definitely fine enough to soothe your tired body, but nothing your aching soul, you lightly chuckled in order to make it seem like you were completely fine with cheol's demeanor towards you today, or rather everyday!

"I agreed because I wanted to y/n,not because I was influenced into" seungcheol's firm hands hesitantly creep up along your waist, sending sudden jolts of warmth throughout.

Isn't this all you've ever wanted, to be wrapped up in his embrace, take in his vanilla scent, while he purred like a small child on your neck...but you knew better....you knew these were the delusions that would only peel your heart apart into flakes, everytime you hoped of them coming true.

"But you can feel uncomfortable staying with me in a resort alone, that too without Hana accompanying us"

"You're my wife y/n"

The man behind you spoke while keeping you in his embrace, hope still flaming in his orbs waiting for you to at least take his hand into yours...

But alas! He very well knew that the hurt he has caused you can even take up ages for him to fix.....well he wasn't in any sort of hurry, rather now completely ready to build an eternity with you, his beloved lady.

While cheol slipped into deep slumber, his arms still wrapped around you and his wet curls slightly brushing the skin of your back, that one line from him kept ringing in your head like a goddamn alarm clock.

"'You're my wife y/n' , did he just say that as a token or did he actually accept me as his wife, did he really melt, will i now finally get to live his love and be treated like how other men treat their lovely wives?"

Dang y/n stop expecting again you idiot. Do you wanna get yourself shattered into shards again!!!!

Amidst all these thoughts racing throughout your head, you didn't realize when you yourself welcomed sleep, wrapped up into cheol's nuzzle.

*********************************************

"Oh seungcheol i completely forgot to tell you two about this!" jeonghan's arms tug onto cheol's back, pulling the parade of you six to a halt, resulting into the older cocking up his head towards him.

"There's this staycation sort of my office is paying for only their best employees" han continues while flipping his long curly locks in the middle "at a resort call Diamond's Retreat where like couples with children can enjoy some leisure. They've a two day camp for the kids, while their parents treat themselves to some alone time with each other, away from the city and life's chaos, in each other's arms" him finishing the last part of the so called news with a teasing smirk on his face.

Seungcheol waited for Han to address as to what his office's trip had to do anything with him and his family.

"Since our other best employee Mingyu tskkk, is already out in Paris with his girlfriend, i was thinking if you three wanted to join us! The girls can have their fun while we enjoy our partners company" the petite looking man finally draws the concluding statement to his evil plan, hands tied tightly around his wife's waist.

"Seungcheol doesn't really do trips Han. We would rather like to pa-"

"Book us three in, we'll go" you were stopped in your tracks even before being able to keep your argument to the duo infront, as your husband made his decision while his arms snaked right around your torso, pulling your head slightly onto his form.

While you were shocked to see cheol showing you physical affection in public, the man beside you was rather concerned and hurt about his own wife not being comfortable in his embrace, trying to squirm her way out somehow.

**********************************************

The day of the trip was finally here and you were literally sweating through your white shirt at the thought of dropping off your daughter at the camp for TWO WHOLE DAYS! not that you were too sad about not having her running by your side all the time,but more cause you were strained about being left alone with her dad.

It has been over ages that you spend your time only with seungcheol by you side, you didn't know what to do, what to say...or more appropriately what to say that won't trigger his irk towards you. YOON JEONGHAN YOU DEVIL CHILD I'LL COME BACK AT YOU FOR THIS TRIP TO YOUR DAD'S ABODE.

"MOM!" a tweak from Hana's small fingers brings you back to this earthly void "I'm leaving with Byul now! Where's my goodbye kiss hmph!!! Daddy already gave me his" a pout paints hers plumply lips - no dna test would be needed to prove that she's the choi seungcheol's daughter....seeing how all her postures are literal copies of her dad, starting from those supple cherry lips to those glistening bambi eyes.

"Momma is so sorry bun,how about a bonus kiss as a punishment!" you peck your daughter's cheeks twice, slowly bringing her down from her father's arms, his hands brushing with your warm ones in the process.

Seeing Hana slowly melt with the horizon, hand in hand with her bestfriend Byul, while both of them excitedly made their way to the adventure camp, made you drop your heart into the pit of your stomach. Realization finally hits you - you're now completely alone with cheol!

"Get all nestled in quick, we've planned for a small sunset date by the rooftop deck. Be sure to be present by 5pm sharp, okay you Ms McTwisp" jeonghan places a playful slap along your back, earning an unnoticed glare from the other man.

Striding towards your room in as small steps as possible for a human to be taking, you unwillingly made your way to the room alloted for the two of you.

"What can be even worse than this already was right?" That was you before you pushed open the gloomy wooden doors to reveal a room decked up in white peonies and silk all around, making it look no less than the mating abode of two doves.

"I..I'll ask room service to clear all...all of this out" you tried to clear out the air before any offensive remark from him would ruin your flutter again, but...

To your surprise, seungcheol looked way to calm and maybe even a little happy at thr sight, the slight curl of his lips giving it out for him.

"It's okay y/n. It's just some decorations! Besides-" cheol takes a little halt, debating whether to say his thoughts out aloud or not.

"Besides they look really pretty, like you" the last two words were only for his ears to perceive, as you were already taken aback by his sudden gentle approach towards you.

After having a hard time trying to make it through the date with that annoying ass bestfriend of yours, for almost half an hour, it was finally time for dessert which in turn meant that he'll get to enjoy your company alone, away from any outside interference.

Although seungcheol would be lying if he said that the entirety of this thirty minutes meal was a torture for him - not when you were laced up in the prettiest sundress he has ever seen anyone flaunt ever. Was it that the dress was too finely woven? No! It was you, that soft smile of yours, those satin black locks half tied up into a white ribbon,that constantly kept distracting you from concentrating on your plate, those glittery siren eyes of yours is what made you look like a moon goddess in such a simple attire.

Oh how he wishes to be seated by your side, tucking away those stubborn strands behind your ears, with his own forefinger, to be feeding you that soufflé himself and to be gatekeeping those cheek pouches only for him to view.....he could never get enough of how godly yet cute you looked while devouring down each and every food bit on those porcelain plates.

"Thanks for the arrangement guys! Now if you would excuse use, I would like to take y/n on a walk by the beach" seungcheol pushes up from his chair, quite frustrated that the reason why he even agreed for this vacation, to spend time with his wife and try to make things right one page at a time, was not being attended to.

An approving nod and a victorious smile flashes onto jeonghan's face, knowing he has now been able to push forward the maneuver for what he actually tricked off poor Mingyu away to Paris, only so that he can somewhat try to mend his bestfriend's family.

"But we need to spen- " for the second time this week cheol banishes you from your right go finish your sentences, as he wraps your hands into his big ones, pulling you two into the beach encircling the property.

The warm sands beneath your feet, the sea breeze running through your hair while your dress flowed along the wind's patterns, made your heart swell up with utter joy. Even though the past few days have taken a big bite out of your heart, there's nothing that a walk along the beach at sunset can't fix right? That too if your husband is now following you like a puppy from behind, without your notice.

"Y/n?" a coo as gentle as a mourning dove graces you ears, while the cool waters traces finds their way onto your feet. You turn around to seungcheol now standing few inches away from you, his head drooped down like a flamingo, hands fidgeting with one another.

"Yes, Seungcheol?"

"Can you....can you call me cheol again pls? Like the old times?" your breath hitches at this sudden approach from him, unsure of what was about to come next.

"I know I messed up...no not even messed up i completely fucked up our relation...i treated you as nothing more than just my child's mother, but" you could now hear soft sobs coming from his direction, as seungcheol's voice starts to become unstable.

"That's not how i feel for you y/n. I don't know what took over me these two years...I won't try to justify myself by saying oh it was work stress or oh i was just not used to being a rookie father and all that....instead i really want to just mend our bond and be a happy pride. Pls?" Seungcheol's eyes finally travel up from the yellow ground beneath to the dark of your eyes, tear drops quite visible around their corners.

Oh how you just wanted to run into his arms, pull him into the warmest hug ever, pat his head and tell him that it's okay....everyone makes mistakes. What matters is them realizing it and trying to put things back into their place again. But your hope was played with way too many times to trust him this fast. What if he yanks you away, what if he gets disgusted by your touch, what if he's just saying all this for the sake of his daughter....

So, to protect yourself from further hurt, all you did was nod at him, flashing him a soft assuring smile, while walking away to sit on the moist sand beneath, ready to take in the grandeur of the sun pour its all into the sea.

Even tho all seungcheol wanted at that moment was to be wrapped into your bosom, he knew it would take a hefty amount of time for you to forgive all his conducts. A small sigh parted his lips as he waddled down the beach himself, leaving his pawprints as a proof of his new beginning, while sitting down by you to enjoy the sunset, hand in hand with his wife.

This newfound feeling of closeness with cheol was confusing yet fulfilling for your craving soul, cuz who could've imagined that you would be sitting on the beach by his side, fingers intertwined while the sun disappeared amongst the tangerine marshmallows before you.

"You know y/n, that day i didn't mean what i said. I love to see you play with Hana like a kid, reliving the childhood you never had, giggling and jumping like a little kiddo. My heart swells up with joy everytime, to see my wife and my daughter like that. To see my family all happy. I'm so sorry for being a jerk. I really don't know what gets into me sometimes, but all I know is I just want to build an eternity with you, have a small content family with my loved one" seungcheol literally blurts out everything in a breath. Did jeonghan possess him or what.

You didn't know whether it was doubt or hurt or the urge to not melt away so easily speaking, but instead of accepting his apology all you said was-

"We should get going now. It's getting dark." Dusting off the loose sand from the back of your white dress, you gently released yourself from seungcheol's grasp.

An immediate frown replaced his content face, from both the feeling of your warmth leaving his body as well as your indifference towards him. He rightfully deserves it tho. "Y-yeah let's go". Seungcheol and stuttering are two things you have never thought could go hand in hand. Like ever. At least not infront of you.

Overwhelmed with all these fresh senses, you quietly follow cheol on his stride towards your room ; the moonlight hitting on his orbs, radiating off a glint even diamonds can't be compared to, the moist breeze from the waters slightly wetting his locks making them stick to his glistening skin, those rosy plumps sticking out into a small pout....oh how dreamy can this man even look huh...even the moon god would be struck by how his light carves out the features of this fallen archangel.

"You know staring at anyone like that for this long, is considered rude" your trance his broken off by his deep voice, laid with a tint of allurement, as he twisted the knob of your room's door, "but you're my wife, I'm all yours to look at"

"I'm so so...sorry. I didn't mean to" you shy away from his glare, trying to quickly walk towards the couch, but seungcheol was way faster than you knew. Even before you could take a step towards your goal, cheol already has you trapped in his arms, your back hitting the cold surface of the door, while his knee rested between your legs.

"W-what are you doing, cheol" a warm wet pair of lips lands on yours as soon as the much longed for nickname makes its involuntary way out of your crevices.

694 notes · View notes

aerialflight · 2 months ago

Text

fic rec list (in other words, i need a list for my neurotic brain and its obsessions, f me)

Yeah, everything said above. also, the deadpool and wolverine brainrot is real. i only watched it a week ago. nfeiwofpewafe.

[Deadpool and Wolverine] (i'm still desperately searching for more. i just need a list for the ones that won't leave me alone fyufivuohbjl)

How To Pay For Rent 💸 by fictionfeast

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson (i still can't believe this is the ship name, they actually put worst wolverine as a specification. it's such a unique dynamic and relationship that we NEED that differentiation. amazing.)

To pay for rent, Logan and Wade take odd jobs on Craigslist.

(listen, LISTEN. just from the fact craiglist is involved, you KNOW it's gonna be off the walls crack and hilarity. i swear, this fic went in directions i never in a million years would've predicted, it's amazing. the voices for these characters are impeccable and i, too, would like to shake deadpool like a snowglobe so some goddamn honestly will barf out. logan, you have my sympathies. please read, i'm literally going insane.)

shattered glass by anarkissed

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

At first, Wade is pretty sure it all starts with the bullet- the one Logan had held in his teeth and spit out like it was a prize. Or maybe it starts in the Honda Odyssey. Or maybe it had started way back with Logan's smile. That first sardonic one when they'd met. Or maybe it's the way Logan is always staring at him. Or maybe- "I think you're enjoying this too much." "Maybe you're not enjoying it enough." It’s more bite than kiss, more claim than caress, but it’s their mouths connecting all the same, and Wade gasps, hoarsely, as blood wells up from his lips and Logan tongues it away like it’s his god-given right. Oh, oh oh, oh- he’s crazy. He’s so crazy. Wade has never wanted anyone so badly in his entire life. Wade tries to figure out where whatever he has with Logan started. (And he's kind of hoping he never has to see how it ends.)

Part 1 of dying engine (poolverine/deadclaws)

(i'm not fucking kidding when i say this is my favorite d&w fic. i want to gnaw this in my mouth and develop vampire canines as i sharpen them every fucking reread. there are passages here that i reread like a fucking lunatic and i use the find in page option for the word 'crazy' just so i can go to my favorite part. and the fact there's a freaking part 2? that has logan's pov in it??? and it makes me feel just as unhinged??? it makes me want to go apeshit. please read. for the love of god.)

how easy you are to need by Patricia_Sage

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

Wade smiles when the doctor opens the door. "Hi, we have a vet appointment at 2:00. Please tell me he doesn't have rabies because I have been scratched and bitten plenty." *** Logan gets treatment for adamantium poisoning. Wade helps.

Part 2 of he has risen, babygirl

(i fucking CACKLED reading this, omfg. also, wade's version of helping is both sweet and freaking hilarious, i love this idiot so much. and this fic! addresses the fact logan probably has ptsd medical trauma and i love that. it's hardly ever addressed and i appreciate how it's shown here. also, it's a series! part 1 is great too, you don't need to read it to understand part 2 though, dw.)

Void by RovingOtter

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

After a week without contact, Logan leaves Wade a weird voicemail.

(i'm religiously checking in on this for updates. i know the summary doesn't say anything, so i'll say it here. logan becomes aware of the fourth wall and it's so fascinating??? a genuine look on what happens if the wolverine becomes aware that he's a fictional character and the exploration of that premise here is *chefs kiss* delicious. and how wade reacts to it and how they both deal with the aftermath of this development is so interesting and god, i NEED to know how this fic will go. genuinely one of those fics that have a premise i've never thought about before and it's GLORIOUS!)

where soul meets body by Edgebug

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

"I'll probably see you around?" "Probably not," Logan says, something in his spine still shaking even now, and Wade looks at him with those huge dark eyes that look--hurt, maybe, heartbroken, and Logan knows he has to get up and leave before he can't. Each step is agony increasing, the thing in his spine trembling ever-harder and then Wade calls his name and he stops, turns, sees those eyes again; pleading, desperate. A rush of emotion slams into his hindbrain, it feels half foreign and half his own; don't do this can't do this without you please stay please stay stay stay stay let me stay stay stay "Come home with me," Wade blurts out, and Logan finds that he's taken steps toward Wade without realizing it, closing the yawning gap between them, and the thing in his spine relaxes just a little. "Okay," he says. (In which something very interesting happens underneath the Time Ripper, and Wade and Logan deal with the aftermath.)

(they vulcan mind melded and now can't live without the other. i just love this author's writing and i read every one of their d&w fics. i'm in love with their characterization of not just d&w but the rest of the cast as well! and the banter and genuinely fun interactions between d&w has me kicking my feet and giggling like a school girl. please read, i totally recommend this fic and the rest of the author's other fics XD)

your fool in this game for two by abillionstars

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

“Have you ever lived with anyone before?” At Wade’s question, Logan pauses to think. Scratches his balls for a second, and says, “I lived at Xavier’s school for a while, before I left. Lived in a clapboard boarding house about seventy years back. A couple of times, I slept in a park with other people nearby. Do those count?” “That was a rhetorical question,” says Wade. “Some might even call it an accusatory one. Mostly because—dude. I’m a fucking mess. But you’re even worse.” (two loser loners, falling in love.)

(this is crack. the peak of romance, the very height of big squishy feelings. it's perfect. god, i am utterly trash for this fic, it's so fucking good fnewiofpew)

Love You All Over by FinelyDressedSpacemen

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

The bad guys have love spells now, apparently. Logan gets nailed. Wade tries not to. With great power over your sexiest friend comes great emotional responsibility.

(where wade tries his best to respect logan and logan makes this, so freaking hard for him lmao. lovesick logan is truly the most flirty version of wolverine and it's incredible. it's like if hugh jackman himself is trying to romance the shit out of you. wade really is the stronger person, incredible. anyway, this was a joy to read and if you like musicals, this is definitely for you <3)

I'm the worst at what I do by Thestarvedghost

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

Logan finds out from Wade after everything is said and done, universes saved and friends met, that most hims across the multiverse have some sort of memory issue, one way or another. Logan wishes he was that fucking lucky. He remembers it all.

Part 1 of No end and no beginning

(i recommend this entire series, the progression on d&w's relationship has me singing! it's so sweet and fluffy! well, as fluffy as 2 murderous, self-hating bastards can be anyway lol.)

[Dimension 20] (Fantasy High, A Court of Fey and Flowers, A Crown of Candy)

interchange by fangirl_squee

Fandom: Fantasy High

Oh, the Bad Kids? Yeah, in that group they have [checks notes] a pirate cleric, a goblin bard, a Helioic fighter, an elven barbarian, a tiefling rogue, and a half-orc wizard.

(it's so interesting how different yet the same the bad kids are even with their class changes. man, the idea of fabian being a freaking cleric still makes me want to cackle. he'd be so much more Exasperated by the bad kids, especially freshman fabian X'D. also barbarian adaine has my whole fucking heart.)

yeah you held me the whole way through, when i couldn’t say the words like you by zedif_y

Fandom: Fantasy High

Ship: Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster

When Fabian is ten, his Papa tells him the story of how he married his mother. It’s a gory tale, one that involves a cut eye and bodies hitting the deck. He tells Fabian of a love that sent him to his knees, that leads a man like him– fearsome and powerful, the greatest pirate to ever live– to start a family. A love that gave him Fabian. --- A study on Fabian, grief, and, ultimately— love.

(an exploration on fabian's idea of what love is. god, it's so well written. i love this fic and absolutely recommend it! <3)

white knuckles by thathastu

Fandom: Fantasy High

Ships: Fabian/everyone (but all unrequited)

His ex-fling’s little sister. Two people in committed relationships who also happen to be in the same mega famous rock band. A heartbroken lesbian who doesn’t want to be involved with men in any way. And Riz fucking Gukgak. Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill Seacaster, finds himself falling for all of his friends.

(seeing the bad kids through fabian's eyes made me realize why the bad kids would be considered attractive to people who know them! it's so sweet how much fabian cares and pays attention to them and the constant feeling of 'oh no oh no' both made me want to laugh and coo at him lmao)

life in a wallflower garden with my friends by sickoflosiingsoulmates for lesbiansweetflips

Fandom: Fantasy High

Ship: Ayda Aguefort/Figueroth Faeth

This is what Ayda has spent her entire life searching after. This is what she built the friendship section in the library in hopes of, what she spent long, lonely nights dreaming of. A night with a friend, a true friend, laughing and talking about nothing in particular. [or, ayda finds friends in the bad kids]

(ayda has friends! ayda has frieeenndss!! i'm so so in love with her and this fic is so fluffy and sweet! gah, instant shot of endorphins, guarantee!)

allies and fealty, or, on finding the first knight of the new Court of Craft by fangirl_squee

Fandom: A Court of Fey and Flowers

Ship: Binx Choppley/Captain K. P. Hob

The enemy of my enemy is kind of my friend. Or something.

(i'm always a sucker for rare pairs and man, this is something i didn't even know i wanted. i love how slowly and carefully they build trust in each other, especially binx who is so secretive and initiated this relationship in the first place. by the end, i completely bought this ship and the potential for it.)

I've walked a fragile line and I've fallen down by jadeandquartz

Fandom: A Crown of Candy

Anger is burning in Lapin’s chest. It is bitter, and it is bloody, and it shines brighter than any Bulb the church might care to invent. Normally, he leaves his emotions be. He cannot afford to let feelings drive him forwards. Remaining logical is the only safe way to play the game of politics - and if you do not play it safe, you die. And if you die, then what was the point? But nothing about their predicament is normal. So, fuck playing the game safely. Fuck that. The world will not play safe with the lives of those he loves. *** In which Belizabeth Brassica is looking for a heretic, and Lapin confesses to his apostasy to protect the House of Rocks.

(one of the first crown of candy fics i read and i never looked back. lapin survive stories makes me so feral and god i love this cantankerous bunny so so much fnewiofewp)

to leave this all behind (halo round his head) by grumpyhedgehogs

Fandom: A Crown of Candy

Lapin blinks slowly at Brassica as she steps up to the bars of his cell, the guards splitting around her like so much water over a stone. He inclines his head, trying for regal and probably failing. “Heretic.” Her voice grates against his eardrums. “You have awakened.” “Zealot. You haven’t killed me.” Lapin replies, dry.

(another, much longer fic where lapin survives and i'm so in love with how much detail and fantastic characterization this fic has, not just for lapin but for the whole cast! the day i stop loving the lapin survives trope is the day i die.)

[The Terror] (yeah, i know, extremely random, and yet here we are. it's due to this animatic here that i was introduced to this show in the first place. def recommend both the show and this artist *thumbs up*)

I'll be Homeward Bound in Time by clandestinegardenias

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

Back in the Arctic, stuffed two to a sleeping sack and trying to keep each other alert, he and James used to name every good type of thing they would eat when they got back, knowing–as they thought–the time would never come. 'Cream puffs', James had sighed one frigid night in a partial feverish delirium. Francis could hardly see him but for the lightest starlight, yet he had heard the smile evident in his voice all the same. That close, he had nearly felt it. --- Hailed as heroes on their miraculous return to England, Francis and James fail to cope, but nonetheless manage to fall together.

(i love how warm they are here, how clearly these two depend on one another and find joy despite the fact london is trying it's best to stamp out this closeness. post-rescue is always such an interesting time where they get to reflect and be traumatized by what happened in the arctic and the lack of understanding that is found when they go home. it's done so well here and man, i just love these two together. the ship that sails their ships lmao)

death is a sailing ship by Maleann

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

"James had died knowing that his heart, the core of his very being that no biographer would ever know, would carry on in Francis Crozier. Would be protected, cherished even, because Francis deemed him worthy of such care. Oh, how he had loved Francis then. He had been at peace with this being his last living thought. It’s his only thought now. In this undead life, his love has nowhere to go." ___ James Fitzjames wakes up in the Afterlife. It looks strangely similar to his cabin on Erebus. (Updated with amazing artwork by Marella!)

(the fic is so!! kind!!! to all its characters! and fitzjames is in full form here, i love how it's him that's trying so hard to take care of his men, despite sir john and his lack of empathy. to have fitzjames damn what is proper and trying to do his best as always even in the freaking afterlife, god. you can just see how much fitzjames changed from the beginning of the show to his end in this fic. how all the characters changed, really. every character here is given room to heal and face the consequences of their actions and there were moments that it seriously made me cry. this is my fave fic in this entire list, it just does an amazing job of showing compassion to all its characters and i love it.)

there but for the grace of- by TheGoodDoctor

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

“I wish you would stop being such a martyr,” a languid voice says quietly, drawling as well as a man can with two missing molars and a glassy, bloodshot eye, leaking all the while from open chest wounds. Francis is rather impressed with his dedication to the role, somewhere under the roil of fury and exhaustion. “You know as well as I do that you could have this bed sometimes, if it didn’t suit you to stomp about with blacked eyes and a put-upon expression.” “And what should we do with you all the while, Commander,” he says, all on a great sigh, “wrap you in sailcloth already? Come, man, you’re either well enough to cease bleeding on my sheets or too ill to get out of them, you can’t have it both ways.” “Francis,” Ross began, “I did not undertake to accept the position of second on Franklin’s expedition for you, as you asked.”

(this fic scratched a brain itch i didn't even know i had. it's so interesting to think about, the idea of crozier not being on the expedition and instead being the person who rescues them instead. fitzjames and crozier actually developing a relationship based on this premise, without the shared trauma, is so so intriguing to me and i wish i had more of this. also, the fact crozier is so much more mentally healthier than canon due to ross makes me want to laugh and cry. god, if only.)

out of the sea came he, still hid in mist by dazydaisy for shortcrust

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

You make bargains you cannot keep. You make promises you plan to break. You give things that are not yours to give.

(a haunting, magical realism fic that feels like a gothic fairy tale. exactly my kind of fic! and if it's yours? definitely a good read *thumbs up*)

At Civil Twilight by lieutenant_iceberg

“Well,” said Francis. “Jopson, will you see what you can do with this three-year-old peace offering? A cup for each of us, and one for you.” “Sir,” said Jopson, collecting one of the bags. “You’ll be up all night if you take coffee now.” “I’ll be up all night anyway. Go, Jopson, go.” When he was gone, Francis got up from the table, and they stared into the depths of the bag together. Finally, Francis cleared his throat and said, “All right, then, James. How have you fared since I hit you?” A few days after Carnivale, Crozier and Fitzjames make a faltering attempt to talk things over.

Part 1 of Civil Twilight

(oooh, the very start of their friendship! how to make peace when their entire relationship is based on animosity and contempt! the dialogue and characterization of these two in this series is so good and i absolutely recommend!)

rebuilding by wildcard_47 for 20thcenturyvole

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

Once they stepped ashore, a fey dark-haired man burst through the crowd a few heads down from Jane Franklin. When Fitzjames saw his brother, he startled, and when Will surged forward in the first press of the crowds around the returned—elfin face wet with tears as he swept James into a fierce embrace—only then did Fitzjames release his grip on Francis’s arm. Only then did Francis feel as if he could step away at last. Written for the 2023 Fall Fitzier Exchange, for the prompt: "Post-canon AU where, once they get home, Crozier and Fitzjames are riddled with guilt and trauma, and deal with their feelings by throwing themselves into caring for the surviving men..."

(i'm always so fascinated by post-rescue stories that actually deal with the aftermath, the logistics of it all. how the characters struggle to handle their own traumas, how they help one another through their experiences, all of it. and how both crozier and fitzjames step up for their men even now, even when they're no longer captains in the arctic and have to deal with london and all it's trappings. this fic handles all that so very well, i love it <3)

As Bullet Speaks to Gun by pointyshades

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames, Thomas Jopson/Edward Little

Against all odds, they are rescued. Cornelius Hickey is court-martialed for his mutiny, and the whole mess of the expedition is unfurled in front of the public. With their names being dragged through the mud, Francis Crozier and James Fitzjames reach out to each other. Meanwhile, Thomas Jopson seeks revenge for what he believes is his captain's betrayal, and Edward Little tries to come to terms with the truth.

(yes!! edward little my beloved gets to shine here! and jopson is so bitter and angry and messy, it's great! again, i love fics that tackle what would happen post-rescue and how london would react to it. the trials, both actual and mental, they have to face in order to move on and be happy (oh please oh please) is handled expertly and i love it! crozier/fitzjames ship is a little more background in this fic compared to jopson/little, but honestly? i'm so sucked into the latter ship that it doesn't matter. both ships are written very well here and again, my beloved edward little is glorious in this fic and i love it! you go edward! woohoo!!!)

Principles of Magnetism (a Comedy of Manners) by acaramelmacchiato

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

The one where they're married but it's still Victorian times and also it's an accident.

(you don't understand, this fic is so fucking funny. it's so goddamn victorian and sir john is so jane-austen-silly-characters coded. i want to both shake his hand for making this premise happen in the first place, and punch him in his punchable face. and crozier is perfectly characterized here, i can visually picture his disgruntled expressions so clearly in my mind, it's incredible.)

Thaw by orphan_account

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames, Past Captain Francis Crozier/Sophia Cracroft

Courteous, charming Fitzjames, whittled down to maturity by the North, and being there, very obviously, not as Francis's right-hand man or as his comrade, but as his mate; a soulmate. Sophia had no need to look at Francis’s face, at the discoloration that would have turned one of his blue eyes into the good-coffee brown of Fitzjames's, to know it, so blatant and luminous a thing it was.

Part 1 of A Victorian Soulmate AU

(very interesting fic where one can choose their soulmates, choose who they want to bond with for life. and the fact it's sophia's pov and how she deals with this fact is handled so carefully and full of goodwill. it makes me want to applaud. i love how clear it is that they're grown ass adults willing to discuss and make peace with one another because they're all genuinely good people who want happiness both for others and themselves. this fic feels like a flower that you hold in your hands to admire it's beauty and delicacy.)

And It Is Now, And It Is Here by 20thcenturyvole, pointyshades

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

Before the ships are trapped in the ice, James Fitzjames sees a terrible vision of the future, a harbinger of his own death. Before the ships are trapped in the ice, Francis Crozier is visited by a tender apparition, an angel wearing James Fitzjames' face. They are both seeing the same vision. Whether they can heed its warning is another matter entirely.

(when the ghost of your future haunts you, you better believe it changes to the plot. i love the dichotomy of how crozier and fitzjames reacts to ghost fitzjames! it's so interesting and i was on the edge of my seat the entire time i read this. if you want to know how it all ends, please read! i promise this fic is a ride you want to get on.)

Waistcoats! or, Life Before the Passage by sadsparties

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames, Lady Ann Ross/Sir James Clark Ross, Lt Henry T. D. Le Vesconte/Original Character

Commander James Fitzjames of the Royal Navy is the Best Man that a best friend could ever ask for. A chance meeting forces him to share his arctic expedition duties with one Captain Francis R. M. Crozier, and perhaps other duties as well.

(listen, the terror is a horror show and i both want and need lighthearted fics in order to deal with all the horrors lol. but seriously, this fic was genuinely just fun to read and i love the banter and slowly developing friendship and relationship between crozier and fitzjames! truly the romantic comedy fic in this fandom. XD)

#Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Marvel #Deadpool and Wolverine #Dimension 20 #D20 #Fantasy High #A Court of Fey and Flowers #A Crown of Candy #The Terror #poolverine #fitzier

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scramblescrew · 4 months ago

Note

good morningg/afternoon/nightt 💗! , can i request a shadow the hedgehog x fem reader where basically the reader gets hurt badly during a battle with eggman and shadow patches her up and gives her cuddles <3.

((With Pleasure, 💗 Anon!))

/TW: a few descriptions of blood and injury\

Shadow the Hedgehog x Fem! Reader: First Aid and Cuddle Scenerio

(Romantic(?) Fluff)

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

_________Getting injured________

- you had been on several missions before and only had gotten minor injuries

- neither of you had expected one of Eggman’s Badniks to actually get a good hit in

- while Shadow was taking on a majority of the bigger threats but you made sure no stray badnik took a cheap shot on him

- as the robot waves dwindled down, you made the mistake of letting your guard down and turned to see the red eyed hedgehog finishing off the robots that were rushing towards him

- As Shadow turned to look at you, his eyes widened as two Buzz Bombers flew up behind

“Y/N!”

- Shadow launched forward, trying to save you from the things shooting at you

- unfortunately, you had turned just in time to be shot in the side and shoulder/arm. Sending you flying into Shadow’s arms

-bl**d gushed down your arm and onto the ground in a steady river of crimson. Lucky, the blast slightly cauterized a few blood vessels so bleeding out would take a bit longer than normal

-but it still needed to be addressed….NOW.

—Addressing your injury—

- after rushing you back to safety (your home), Shadow quickly got a med kit, then started disinfecting and bandaging the wounds

- thankfully the wounds weren’t that deep so gauze and bandages were applied to stop the bleeding

- but unexpectedly, even with quite a few wraparounds with bandages

- blood still soaked into the bandages enough that red was appearing on the top layers of the bandages

- Shadow quickly removed the gauze and bandages then re-bandages the wounds

- the bleeding eased up but there was a bit of blood still

-But for now, it would do…..

- you were wincing in pain still so your worried partner got you some painkillers then picked you back up

- shadow then took you to your bed and laid you down in it, getting in with you shortly after

————The Cuddle Session————

“Y/N….I’m so sorry…I should’ve been there…”

“Shadow, it’s ok! We’re both alive and doing pretty ok!”

- you two comforted each other as an outpouring of memories from your pasts emerged.

- Shadow talking about Maria and his fears about losing anyone of his other loved ones again

- …he couldn’t bare to lose you too… not after everything you two have been through and done together!

“Y/N, Seeing the blood and your pain…the memories all came flooding back again…ones I wish I could heal from…I can’t let you go…I can’t lose you-“

“And you won’t lose me…Shadow..honey…some scars don’t heal, Maria was your best friend..your sister…and there was nothing you could’ve done that would’ve made the outcome any different……”

“You’re right…I love you, Y/N..”

“I love you too…remember that she and I will always be here for you in one way or another…and that you can still live for her sake…”

-Shadow smiled as you told him about your life, the ups and downs, the trauma and possible healing, everything-

-that was until you finished talking and looked down

-you saw that your partner, the usual reserved and grumpy hedgehog had nuzzled his face into your neck and had fallen asleep with a look of relief and ease plastered onto his face

-you chuckled, and using your not injured arm, smoothed out any stray quills and patches of fur

-you hummed a soft tune as you too succumbed to sleep, albeit still in a bit of pain

——————BONUS!!———————

-Shadow woke up and reached his hand out, hoping you were still in bed…you weren’t.

- Shadow shot up, his eyes open and mind fully aware, you weren’t in bed, your place in bed was still kind of warm so you had to have gotten up very recently

- The immortal hedgehog teared up as he freaked out and got up and started rushing to the bedroom door-

- you were now suddenly in the doorway, leaning against the frame in a fair bit of pain with two cups of coffee and a small pouch in your hands.

“Y/N! You’re injured, you shouldn’t be out of bed! Come on- come lay down!”

“Darling, I just went to the kitchen and made us a little something! Just a little coffee for us two!”

-Shadow had taken the cups and pouch, setting them down on the bedside table,

“Doesn’t matter, now lay down!”

-You did as he said and got back into bed and into a comfortable position

“The larger cup and the pouch are for you, take ‘em.”

-Shadow looked at you for a second before taking the cup and pouch,taking a sip from the cup and going to his side of the bed, “….thank you, Y/N…”

“You’re welcome…I know you like your coffee..!”

“Yeah, I do.”

((IDK- I heard Shadow liked coffee and went with it!!!))