#sorry i got carried away why was this so healing to write as an abuse victim wow more of this me thinks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

visd3stele · 3 years ago

Note

Hey author absolutely love your works and you're amazing...just wanted to know if I can request a bit angst, like after sirius breaks up with reader (pureblood), she's forced to marry regulas and sirius is heartbroken. But then homie gets motivation from jily and wrecks the wedding (like the drama queen he is) and marries her. Bonus point if you do this in after Hogwarts plot ♥️ take love <3

hi, dear nonnie 💛. I must say, I'm very happy to write your request and I hope it'll do justice to your idea, but first of all THANK YOU SO MUCH! I'm so glad you think so

TW: angst (duh) but happy ending, smoking, bad parents, implication of child abuse, a semi descriptive fight scene with casualties (one of which is a child), death (talks and mentions of it) cussing (twice, but still); anything else you think should be up here?

A/N: this is my first anon request and it feels special to me. Is this normal? I don't quite understand why myself... it just... does. Anyway, I really got carried away with the story, so buckle up for a loooong, painful ride (I'm not even sorry, I love it sm). Also, I recently rewatched Anne with an E and the use of big words set me on a classic books reading haul again which in turn influenced my writing a bit. I like the finished draft, but I can admit it might seem a little weird.

The white sheep of the House of Black vs the poisoned snake

masterlist and requests

"Sirius! Watch out!" Y/n's strident voice echoed through the foggy mind of the oldest Black brother. The young soldier leaned on his flat's open window, starring in the quiet night. His fingers became cold and numb around the forgotten cigar as Sirius tried to shake off the events of the day.

"Levicorpus," a masked figure whispered in the crowd, sending a muggle passer byer flying into the nearest wall. Sirius, Peter, y/n and another member of the Order of Phenix had just arrived, being tipped off about an attack on one of the safe camps. After the Death Eaters gained more and more power, Dumbledore created small settlements for muggle borns and their families, where they could hide from Voldemort's rage. For maximum security, a different group of wizards and witches had been assigned their own safe camp to watch over. They were the only one who knew how to find it, or so it was meant to be.

Sirius closed his eyes tight, crumpling the cigar in his fist. The fire has been put out by the wind for a while now, but the young man couldn't notice. Not when another fire, shone behind his forged lids.

Y/n was the first to run forward. Waving her wand to make space between fallen roofs, broken furniture thrown in the streets and remains of what used to be strong buildings, the witch shouted spells to lift the heavy concrete off people, or shield them from curses. Sirius woke up from his stunned trance and moved to cover his girlfriend's back. Together, they weaved a passage for their proteges, leading them to where Peter and their friend waited with healing potions.

The disowned wizard took an uneven breath, preparing for the worst part. Colorful spots danced in the darkness of his closed eyes, the powerful hold on his lids a poor attempt to keep tears from spilling.

"Sirius, watch out!" She yelled, tackling him to the ground as the familiar criss cross of a cruciatus spell passed above their heads and hit a small boy. Y/n was holding his hand, whispering comfortingly over the sound of battle and his own tears when she heard the mad cackling of Bellatrix Lestrange. The witch turned right in time to see her cast the unforgivable towards Sirius and all things left y/n's minds. Except for one: save him.

The little boy cried and trampled on the ground. Before either of them could get on their feet, a loud explosion boomed close by and the nearest building blew up. Sirius shielded his face with his arm, pushing y/n under him to protect her with his body. She let out a strangled sob, but didn't protest. Nor did she move. When the smoke cleared off enough to see through it, the image burned deep in both of their souls.

Y/n was quiet on the way home. Thinking. Brewing hatred towards her enemies. She never followed the rules that seemed inked on all pure bloods brains. She didn't comply to the path her parents laid out for her. Because deep down, y/n always knew how wrong all of it was. Is. But never in her most painful dreams did she expect such a vicious, ruthless war.

She collapsed on her and Sirius' bed, hugging herself and allowing the tears to fall. Angry, sadness, shame, disappointment. They flew from her, lulling her to a restless sleep, while Sirius dealt with the reports and aftermath of the attack.

Once home, the former Black heir paced around for hours. His thoughts swirled like a hurricane. In his fourth year at Hogwarts, the rebel pure blood felt butterflies in his stomach for the first time. Sirius managed to let down his family in all aspects of his life – beginning with his love for muggles, following with his Gryffindor sorting and the pride he took from it and ending with his loyalty towards his friends. But one thing he did right.

No one saw it coming. It was the shock that went simultaneous through the entirety of Hogwarts. Sirius Black dating the notorious y/n, a witch descending from a family with blood as pure as their hearts were frozen. The pair landed rumors in every corners of the wizarding Britain, even making an appearance in the papers: The Black heir came around and accepted his heritage ; The union between y/l/n and the Black family is confirmed ; Two ancient blood lines, what does it mean for the wizarding future and how will it affect the current situation?

After the fateful summer when Sirius has been disowned, everyone expected the couple to be pulled apart. But y/n stood by his boyfriend's side, defying her parents and asking to be disowned as well if they can't accept her choices. It never happened, as y/n was the only heiress to her name. They only deprived her of the rights to the family fortune and hoped for a better match one day.

It didn't bother Sirius as much as he'd think. He knew it didn't matter. Y/n was still on his side, the right side. And that knowledge was something he never questioned. Until now. Until he saw the worse the war could offer and had a feeling it was just the start of it.

Sirius Black had a hard time believing the rumors of a traitor in their rows. He couldn't bring himself to believe someone he's close with, someone whom he bled for, someone who killed for him, could do such a thing. But as Dumbledore grew more and more worried, groups formed within the Order and speculation found a home at their table.

It was James who'd always reassure him. James who trusted his friends more than he trusted the sun to rise at the dawns of every new day. James, whom Sirius convinced in the sixth year that y/n was worthy of that trust. Because just like him, he relented the old ways and prejudices and wanted to be free from her awful family.

A dark thought crept in the abyss of Sirius' mind. A guilty doubt which seemed to turn into a painful truth right before his eyes. Sirius knew Peter wouldn't ran his mouth to anyone about the safe camp, he's a marauder, after all. And the friend they've got paired up with was a muggle born, with no motive to be loyal to the Dark Lord. Which means, it must've been y/n.

As if Sirius summoned her with, the witch climbed tiptoed behind him. She swinged her arms around his waist and he felt her shiver from the cold.

"Hey," her thumbs rubbed circles on the back of her hands where they meet on Sirius' chest.

"Hey," he answered. "Why aren't you sleep? It's late."

"I could ask you the same." She moved in front of Sirius, arms still locked around her boyfriend, trapping him in the hug. Y/n's lower back now pushed against the window's edge, her shoulders facing the chilly air.

For a moment, Sirius considered breaking into a crooked smirk, willing playfulness to imbue his voice as the words "Ah, but I asked first," almost left his lips. But he decided against it. Seeing her, feeling her, tired him more than the hours of self torture did. She looked drained. Eyes swollen from crying, lips pierced here and there from biting, muscles flexing involuntarily at her own flashes of recordings of the day. But it couldn't be, right? Because she betrayed them. She betrayed him.

Sirius shook his head, a handful of black locks tickling his face. He pulled y/n away from the window, pushing it with his shoulder and freeing a hand to properly close it. "Go back to bed," he said, fixing his quartz eyes on her for the first time. She wore one of his AC/DC shirts that covered her body, but did little to keep her worm. "It's cold," he swallowed thickly, grey orbs almost shining in the far away light of stars, a crescent moon and street lamps down below.

"I know," she gave Sirius' own attire a pointed look, unwrapping her arms and rubbing his bare arms. He stilled under her touch for a second, before gently pushing her away. The wizard took snatched a blanket from one of the armchairs and placed it atop his girlfriend while searching desperately for another he could use. Y/n moved faster. The witch engulfed her boyfriend with the material, bringing him with her to the couch.

She nestled against him, knees to her chest, half sitting in Sirius' lap. Ignoring the stiffness of his body as she assumed it's due to the fight from earlier, y/n lightly threaded her fingers through her boyfriend's hair. "Couldn't sleep," she mumbled out of breath.

"Me neither."

Y/n pulled back. The wizard still avoided to look at her. Sighing, the young woman rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry –" she started, starring at nothing in particular – "for the boy." Sirius tensed, which y/n took as a sign to continue. "You blame me, don't you?"

When he didn't answer, the witch dared a peak through her lashes at his face. For the first time since they started dating, y/n couldn't read it. Sirius wore his heart on his sleeves all the time and today was no different. But she didn't understood what she was seeing.

"I shouldn't have..."

"No, you shouldn't've."

Y/n watered her lips as she nodded at the harsh tone. "I know. I'm sorry. I was trying to –" her voice broke – "I only thought about you. I had to protect you."

"You had to keep that kid safe."

"Fine. I needed to protect you."

"Why? I can take it, you know I can. I'm sure I build enough strength against the cruciatus that I wouldn't've felt a thing." His voice was void of any emotion, but somehow accusing. Y/n felt the bitter taste of guilt morphing into anger.

"Because I wanted to!" The witch screamed. "You should never have felt it and I‐ I," her voice cracked. "I want you to never feel it again." She had so much more to say to him. Tell him of how she promised herself she'll never allow such cruelty upon him ever again. How when the glow of the spell caught the corner of her eyes, she acted on impulse alone. But a knot twisted on itself from her very own vocal chords and y/n could speak no more.

Silence stood no chance to properly settle over the two of them when Sirius jumped to his feet. He had enough of it already and it only hurt him. So the wizard argued back, vigorously. "I'm a grown fucking man, y/n! The damage is done already. But that boy? That little boy?" Sirius' irises twitched in response to tears pinching the sensitive eyeballs. He spat the next words with great hardship, voice dripping with reprieved feelings unlikely to reach other's ears. "Him you could have saved. But you didn't."

Y/n rose to her feet as well. Her mouth opened and closed while she failed to decide how to respond. However, Sirius has never been a patient man and he is known for his temper to burn bright and short, after all.

"What were you thinking, y/n? Fuck it!"

"You! I was thinking about you and only you."

"We're not in school anymore! We don't prank people and bully to take revenge for how they hurt us. We're soldiers! And this is war."

"You think I don't know that? You think I wanted him to die?"

Deafening silence suddenly stilled the room. Glistening grey bore into tears stained y/e/c. His jaws pulsed, clenching and unclenching. Her nostrils flared, realization sinking in.

"You do," y/n whispered. "You do!" She yelled. "You do?" The witch forced her eyes to focus on her boyfriend through the mist of moisture. "How can you- you believe... why?"

Sirius grew restless and begin pacing, messing his hair when his hands gripped his scalp. "Why? Why?!" He broke into a phrenetic laugh. "Because you sold them out, y/n!"

"What?"

"You're the spy. Of course you are the spy! You told Voldemort where the safe camp is."

"Oh-huh," y/n scoffed. "So not only you think I wanted a little boy to –" she couldn't bring herself to speak the word, wiping furiously at her eyes instead – "but you also think I tried to get everyone killed. Bloody hell, Sirius! What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know, y/n. You tell me. How did the Death Eaters where to come?"

"I didn't tell them."

"Then who did?"

"I don't know!" The witch spreaded her arms then twisted them over her chest within seconds. She closed the gap between her and Sirius. "I don't know, Sirius. Why does it have to be me?"

"Because there is no one else who knew about our camp. Who else could've?"

"What is that supposed to mean? What, you still see just a pure blood puppet when you look at me? No matter what, I'll always ran back to mommy and daddy and condone to their actions. Is that it?"

Sirius' lack of an answer was telling enough. He crossed his arms over the thin white undershirt he was wearing. The wizard's lips trembled, but he fixed the shining cold of his quartz eyes on y/n. His brow wrinkled his forehead with a swift lift.

"Is that it? Bloody answer me, Sirius!"

"Yes."

Y/n gasped. The witch took several steps back, the single word hurting like a hard slap over the cheek.

"If you really think that, why stay with me this long?"

"I, uh, I don't know. I s'pose there is no real reason to drag this along anymore." Sirius forced to gruff out. Anger dimmed within him like a used match. And despite his suspicious, putting an end to such a long, meaningful relationship wasn't easy.

"Drag this along? So that's how you think about us, then."

"I can't be with you, y/n, if you compromise the mission. If you're a danger to my friends."

The woman passed a hand over her face. She nodded, withholding the cries threatening to escape her throat. "You accuse me of treason, having no proof at all. And you're wrong, Sirius Orion Black. You are so very wrong!"

"Good bye, y/n. I'll send your things home, I assume there's where you'll be now that you're finally free of the disgrace that I am."

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Y/n did indeed returned home. Not out of longing or a deep rooted feeling of belonging. In fact, walking down the paved path, leaving house after house behind and closing in to the small palace that stood as y/l/n's home, the witch felt more and more like climbing a rooftop and screaming as loud as her lungs could support it.

Her heart ached, but there were no tears. Y/n's eyes were dry as the wind blew in her face. Her feet carried her out of muscle memory alone, her head throbbing with so many thoughts none actually made any sense. A numbness took over the young witch when the chilly air and too much pain to bear met on her body.

"Y/n?" When she was but a young little girl, she imagined this is how the jewels in her mother's box would sound like. Regal, nonchalant, demanding. As if the entire world is meant to gawk and obey.

"Hello, mother."

"What in Salazar's name are you doing outside dressed like this?"

Y/n has forgotten she still wore Sirius' shirt. And if she wasn't staying outside of the palace like house, she'd have pull it over her head and toss it in the mud.

"May I come in?" She decided to ignore her mother's question. It took a while, but eventually, the older woman stepped aside and allow y/n passage to enter.

"What is this?" The dusty voice of mister y/l/n exclaimed, briefly glancing up from his newspaper to capture the abnormal sight.

"Our daughter seemed to have misplace her shame, along with manners and values."

"That much is obvious. I don't know why it comes as such a surprise to you, my dear."

Y/n resisted the urge to roll her eyes and run up the stairs to her childhood room like she used to whenever her parents admonished her in the past.

"Shouldn't you be with that blood traitor, mud bloods lover of yours?" Her father continued.

"Sirius and I broke up tonight." Y/n murmured. It was enough, though, to lighten up her mother's petrified face.

"Is that so? You have finally come to your senses, I see."

"He cut me off."

"Ah!" Her mother's face deformed in an almost comical depiction of outrage. "How dare he, that little scum. Does he know the honor you were doing him by simply allowing him to be near you? After he dishonored his family the way he did, that good for nothing boy had the nerve to..."

"Mother! That's enough. Please."

"Well, that's it, then. You washed your hands of that embarrassment at last. Good."

"If you are to return in this household, y/n, I expect you to act properly. Start by changing that... attire." Her father commented. Which sounded close enough to a dismissal for y/n, who gladly seized the opportunity and rushed up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Sirius tried to wrap the muggle's sticky tape over a carton box. He spent all the time since y/n's departure packing her stuff and sealing them the muggle way. It was petty, but the quickest revenge he could piece together at the time being.

His cheeks were heated, painted in an angry red. His nose hurt from the many times he snuffled, suppressing his tears. Fueled by his pain, Sirius Black tore his flat upside down, using his fists, his legs, his wand. Until he dropped to the ground, too tired to keep it up and started boxing y/n's belongings.

The wizard heard muggles say it helped. It supposedly healed. But Sirius was just as terribly shattered as before by the end of it. He waved his wand and muttered a spell, vanishing every proof of y/n that might have been laying around in his flat.

Days passed and Sirius heard nothing from y/n. She ceased her attendings to the Order meetings, which he took as a sign he could safely tell everyone she was the spy. James was more than happy to fill the vacant place she left in Sirius' group, seeing as the people who fell victims to the vial attack were in drastic need of as much help the Order could spare.

"Alright, mate. Speak up." James Potter took his best friend by the shoulder and led him sidelong. The noises of rebuilding, using both magic and muggle ways, echoed under the rare sunny sky above the outskirts of London. Lots of volunteers offered to help and the camp starting to look anew. The two young men afforded a break.

"What are you talking about, Prongs?" Sirius fickle with the lighter before giving up and enchanting a flame for his cigarette.

"You know what, Padfoot. Your sulking. I can't help of you don't talk about it."

"There is nothing to say, alright? Y/n betrayed us, she lied to us, she was a peril for these people and our cause. She had to go."

"Us, these people, the cause... Sirius, my friend, you're not talking about yourself at all here. And you dated her for what? Four years? Five?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm not the important one right now."

James bumped his best friend playfully in the arm, a tentative grin forming on his face. "I never thought I'd hear the day Sirius Black would say such a thing."

The grey eyed wizard smiled at the other's joke, but his lips couldn't hold it for too long. He masked the fall of his smile with drawing a breath around the smoking stick.

"Look, Padfoot, I think you need some time away from the war. Lily and I are going to have a big family dinner tonight. My parents, her parents, even her sister is coming. It'd only be fair if I bring my brother too, what do you think?"

For a brief moment, Sirius felt warm and a pleasant feeling tickled his senses. The war erupted as soon as the marauders graduated Hogwarts, giving them all too little time to further explore their blissful friendship. Even though the united group remained the same in their minds, there could have been whole weeks in which they wouldn't talk to each other. And even when they managed, the change of words tended to be short and restrained to good luck wishes.

It was the first time James called Sirius his brother since after their seventh year when the Black disowned heir was allowed access to his uncle Alphard's inheritance and bought the flat he moved in, leaving the Potters' house behind.

Then, as soon as it came, it was gone. Replaced by a bitter taste as Sirius' mind drifted to y/n. Who made him feel real – one rebellious pure blood seemed odd, out of place. He begin to question his choices in fifth year in the light of everyone pointing out how wrong he was. But two descendants of old families, sharing stories and beliefs, soothed his mind. And now? Now all that proved to be a sham. And he was alone all over again.

Sirius pondered if he should decline James' invitation. Not only would he ruin the jolly mood with his sour one. But he could use his time better. Make amends to all the people whose lives his love ruined. However, he decided against it. Knowing James Potter as good as he did, Sirius was aware that he won't take no as an answer. And one needs double the normal doze of energy to argue with the Quidditch star.

"Sure, Prongs. I'll be there."

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

"Y/n! We are waiting for you. We mustn't be late."

The young woman groaned inaudible. She hadn't even finished to unpack the mountain of boxes Sirius sent her and her parents were expecting smiles and attendants to pure bloods events. Where she was expected to be glad of being rid of the wanker she had the displeasure to call boyfriend for too many years, to put it in their words.

"You didn't even tell me where are we going this time." She complained.

Y/n's parents exchanged looks. "I suppose we can tell her now."

"Yes, yes. Maybe it's for the best she won't be taken aback by the news."

"What news?" Y/n asked, seemingly impatient, but dread climbed its way up her spine.

"Oh, dear, maybe you can marry a Black heir, after all. Isn't it wonderful?"

"What?" Y/n knew her parents allowed her to date Sirius only because of his family's name. The dream of one day being a Black caught deep, thick roots in their minds. Even after he got disowned, they clung to that hope. It's never too late, her father would say. He'll get bored of playing games, her mother would agree. And y/n would bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from defending her boyfriend.

It went on like that until the war started and it became clear Sirius Black was too far gone in his honorable morals. Apparently, y/n's parents only gave up on him, not their dream of tieing unbreakable connections to the most Noble and most Ancient House of Black.

"Regulus Arcturus is of age, only a year younger than you. Wallburga wants to be sure the blood line will continue as pure and powerful as it is and we'd like nothing more than mix our ancestry with such a good family."

Now no amount of chewing her own skin could stop y/n from rolling her eyes and speaking up. "I just ended a relationship. I can't marry! And what about Regulus? What does he have to say about this arrangement?" Because the witch knew the youngest Black resented and condemned his brother's friends. Including her own self.

"He should be thrilled of having such a beautiful, sharp, educated, wife." Her mother answered and hurried her out the door.

Once the group made it to Grimmauld place nr. 12, the unfriendly house elf presented them to the household.

"Walburga, such a pleasure to see you again. And in such happy circumstances no less." Y/n's mother greeted. The Black matriarch inclined her head and smiled tightly.

"The pleasure is all mine, lady y/l/n. Good day to you too, lord y/l/n."

"Thank you for having us, lady Black. Lord Black." Y/n's father nodded towards the scrawny, tall boy by the chimney. He held his hands entwined behind his back, back straight and chin slightly lifted. Although it was clear he was still young and shoved into his mother's expectations from infancy, Regulus behold his title well. After his father's passing, the youngest Black took upon himself the responsibility and great honor of being Lord Black. Which laid proof enough of his association with the Dark Lord even without the ink y/n knew was dancing creepily up and down his sleeved forearm.

"Y/n, it's good to see you again," Walburga fixed the witch with her emotionless eyes.

Panicking, y/n curtseyed and muttered a greeting. A snort snapped her head in Regulus' direction. She frowned at him, while he only rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Maybe we should let the newly engaged to their own." Y/n's mother suggested.

"Yes. Come, we have plenty to discuss about the wedding."

As soon as the two of them remained alone, y/n turned towards her betrothed. "You look as bad as I feel." She commented, noticing the sickly pallor of his face, the bags under his eyes, the too thin hair – though perfectly arranged even so – and his wobbly feet.

"Marriage may not suit me well, m'lady." Regulus mocked.

"Hey! Don't act like the victim here. You're one of them, aren't you supposed to be on board with all this?"

The boy shrugged. "Weren't you supposed to be my brother's bride?"

"Shut it, baby snake." The words, though as light hearted as they could be coming from Regulus Black, hit her hard. Her stomach shifted painfully and a familiar sting wailed up behind her eyes.

"Original." Regulus mumbled. "How come you're not with my idiot brother anymore? I can see it's not because you had a change of heart."

"Why do you care?"

"Aren't I supposed to care about my future wife?"

"I thought you don't want the wedding either."

"I didn't want a lot of things. It never stopped them from happening," the young Lord Black threw matter of factly at y/n. Arms still behind his back, the witch couldn't see how he rubbed his wrist, where the mark itched. But she noticed the shift in his demeanour. The tremble of his jaw muscles, the lost gaze in his grey eyes, the lids slowly disappearing as long eyelashes connects with eyebrows when his eyes widen.

"Want to elaborate on that?"

"My tale for yours, if you are willing to start." Regulus wasn't a talkative person. He shared little about himself and his views, his voice tended to take people by surprise as the youngest Black preferred to observe things from the shadows. But this secret he had now, he needed to unburden his shoulders of its weight. And y/n made it clear where she stands with the purists nonsense.

Y/n chuckle took him by surprise. "I think that's fair." She brought her arms in front of her, cupping her elbows for a sense of support and sat on the sofa. "Sirius and I broke up," her gaze never left the carpet. "It was his idea. He assumed I betrayed the Order and switched sides."

"And did you?"

Now, her head snapped up, eyes blazing with fury. "No!" She spat at Regulus. Who immediately put his hands up in deffence.

"Alright, alright. Sorry."

Y/n grunted. "Whatever. Your turn."

Regulus told her about Kreacher and the cave. About how he searched for a way to make the Dark Lord pay and weaken his plans. By the end of it, y/n grinned genuinely for the first time in weeks.

"Wicked. Didn't know you had it in you, Black."

Regulus sent her a shy smile as well, tugging at some wanton raven strands of hair. "My brother truly is an idiot, y'know. He's fast to jump to conclusions and then never thinks twice about it."

"Yeah," y/n sighed. "I know."

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Sirius seized the opportunity to make himself scarce after the dinner ended. The young man was now on the terrace, blowing off twirls of smoke in the early night. Lily and James saw to their guests as they leaved, but Sirius couldn't bring himself to join them. As bad as he felt about avoiding Effie and Monty, the wizard didn't want to face them in his state. The older Potters had enough on their plate with already without adding his sour mood to it.

"Oi, Sirius! Lily asks if you want to stay the night?" James leaned on the door frame after his and Lily's families were gone.

"Nah. I should be on my way as well, thanks mate."

"I insist." The young man with glasses blocked Sirius' way. He pressed gentle hands on the older Black brother's shoulders, making an effort to look up into his eyes and still be convincing. "It's exactly what you need, really. Some time with your friends and you'll be anew in no time, you'll see."

Sirius doubted it. Not only was he blind to his own girlfriend malice intentions, but by it, he also endangered so many people. The betrayal stung worse than his parents' punishments, but still couldn't compare with the ache in his heart from ending his longest, most wonderful relationship.

However, he nodded, being met with James hopeful and worried gaze.

"Sirius," Lily exclaimed. "You're staying, right? Good –" the redhead mused when the taller wizard hummed his confirmation –"you can borrow some clothes from James, I'm sure he won't mind." She smiled sweetly, but the edge of her lips' corners showed how troubled Lily was because of him.

"Of course not!" The bespectacled young man huffed and landed on the couch, remote already in his hand. Lily rolled her eyes at his antics, but chuckled softly and nestled against him.

"Thanks," Sirius' voice chocked and caught in his throat. The pair sitting lovingly tangled on the couch reminded him of himself and y/n on so many occasions. Cuddling after a long Order meeting, falling asleep on each other when they both thought they could play early birds for once, murmuring sweet nothings while the newspapers spread dread and uneasiness.

James and Lily were doing just that: comforting the other. Lily just said good bye to her parents and sister for good, being too dangerous for the muggles to remain close by. And as much as James' parents tried to hide their hurting from him, he saw right through their acts.

Lily stroked her husband's wild locks, twirling and untwirling the messy strands around her fingers. James rested his palm on her knee, toying with the material of his wife's jeans. Their free hands entwined, Lily and James conversed silently with each other.

Sirius shifted from foot to foot, an intruder. Before he had the chance to excuse himself and go back outside – something about the chilly air soothed him – a familiar owl flew by the window. The prey bird didn't stick around, though. And in its place, a letter found its way inside the house.

Well, letter was an overstatement, actually. A single piece of parchment, folded carefully. Sirius recognized the elegant calligraphy of his little brother.

If it's any of your concerns, y/n and I are to marry. You're not welcomed, of course, mother wouldn't allow it. But I thought you should know. She loves you still, brother – the ink smudged over the word and the loops of the letters were too squared. As if Regulus grew unsteady. Drops of ink colored the thin paper in a futile attempt to write more.

Sirius drew in a breath. His fingers flexed involuntarily and crumpled the parchment. Swallowing thickly, he allowed himself to drop on a armchair.

"Sirius? What's wrong?" Lily asked. James was on his feet within seconds, kneeling in front of his best friend and trying to catch his eyes.

"Padfoot?"

Without a word, the taller wizard passed the note over. James scanned it briefly before returning his attention to Sirius. Lily picked it up as well, thoughts drifting away as she gave the two men some space.

"I'd ask if you're ok, but clearly that'd be stupid even by my standards," James jocked. "Seriously, though, how do you feel about this?"

"Don't know, Prongs," Sirius shrugged hopelessly. "It shouldn't bother me, right? I mean, she's a traitor. They're both on the wrong side here. I shouldn't care what either is doing." His voice grew louder and louder, pitched and edged. "In fact," Sirius stumbled over a pitiful laugh, "I should be happy they found each other."

James shook his head. "Look, I know you don't want to hear this right now, but are you sure? Are you sure–" Potter begin again at Sirius' puzzled look –"that y/n really betrayed us?"

"What are you talkin' about, Prongs? Of course I am, she's the only option. She's a..."

"Pure blood?" Lily interfered with a pointing look. Sirius had the decency to blush. Lowering his gaze, the wizard fidget with his hands joined in front of him.

"I don't know how bad your fight was, but it's clear you still love her. And if we're to believe Regulus, she loves you too. There are no actual proof of her betrayal, Sirius. I never thought you're the one to chicken out in bad times."

James nodded. "You should go, mate. Settle this for good. You deserve closure."

"And what if I was wrong all along? What if she's innocent and I've been such a wanker?"

"Then you'll figure it out from there."

"Bollocks! Thanks a lot, Prongs!"

"Hey, relationships aren't easy, mate. I can't tell you the number of times Lily-pad here makes it a woeful... Ouch!"

From where the redhead witch stood, a small army of pillows flew towards James. "But it's ever so worthy, my dear. Ouch!"

"You should try living with yourself, Potter. I'm a perfect saint by comparison."

"If you say so, Mrs. Potter."

The light tease carried on, leaving Sirius to dwell in his mind.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Y/n and Regulus stared at the empty room. By the end of that night, they'd be husband and wife. Both enjoyed the peace for a couple more minutes, before the guests would arrive and the ceremony would start.

"You know what's funny?" Y/n suddenly asked. "I always knew I'd end up with a Black. I just assumed it'd be Sirius."

Regulus nodded. "You're not the only one. He was mad about you, everyone could see that."

"It wasn't meant to be, after all, was it?" Her voice dripped with sorrow.

"Have you tried to reach out to him after the fight?"

"I doubt it'd've made any difference. If he can think so low of me after all the years we've been together..." she sighed and shook her head. The witch pursed her lips, holding back tears she didn't want to spill. A sob still escaped the carefully locked prison of her rib cage.

It startled Regulus, but the young Lord Black came to his senses and tentatively opened his arms for his future wife. Y/n walked in the hug and broke as soon as his arms engulfed her.

"It just hurts so much, Reggie." She sobbed.

"I know," the wizard said solemnly while stroking y/n's head. The heavy silence that followed spoke to both of them. There was no need of words anymore as two souls clung desperately to each other, calling for the kind of understanding only sharing experiences could really bring out.

Regulus lost a brother long before y/n lost a boyfriend. But Sirius believed them both traitors, mindless followers of Voldemort. And left, never glancing back once. It was a type of heartache the silently rebellious pure bloods shared.

"Do you think it'll ever pass?"

"Not sure. Supposedly, yes, I guess. Maybe if we have each other?" Regulus struggled with the question. It's been a good five years since Sirius was disowned and yet, the younger brother still weeps in his dreams, calling for him.

"Like actual partners?"

Regulus turned red. "I, I don't want you to hate me like mother hated father. I know there's pressure on our duties, I just... I thought..."

"We could be allies," y/n sufficed, a small smile growing weakly on her face. She pulled herself back at arm length and brushed her thumbs under Regulus' eyes. The digits wettened from his own tears, which softened the witch's y/e/c gaze. She nodded. "I think that'd be best. Great marriages started with less than this... at least in muggle novels."

Regulus rolled his eyes, but chuckled along with y/n anyway. The genuine smile playing on his lips caused the witch to burst into giggles. Sometimes, the relief of having another supporting oneself is so great, it leads to temporarily madness.

Mere hours later, the young Lord Black gripped y/n's fingers reassuringly in front of a sea of noble, ancient wizarding families. She squeezed his hands back. "Are you ready for this?" Regulus whispered.

"No. You?"

"Absolutely not."

The wizard dared a peak to the pure bloods gathered. Whatever he saw made his gaze snap back to y/n's face. Who was currently stealing glances all over the place. Her roaming eyes finally settled on Regulus' for the vows when the thick wooden door blew open.

Wind still swirled at the entrance, hiding whoever disturbed the wedding. As the view cleared, it revealed a tall, lean figure with a wand stretched forward and strands of hair whipping the air framing the silhouette. Gasps erupted under the high ceiling and at the same time y/n breathed out a name she thought she'll never have reason to speak again.

"Sirius Orion!" Wallburga screeched. The old woman refused to call her wayward son by the family name. He was unworthy of it. "What in Salazar's name do you think you're doing?!"

The crowd was on their feet now, confused or angry murmurs following the young man as he took a few confident steps forward. Though it was clear for y/n that he didn't feel as powerful as he made it look like.

"Why, hello, mother dearest," Sirius managed to slip bitter venom to his words. "I see you're wasting no time to ensure more precious heirs. Good to know you hadn't changed. Imagine the shock I'd have to face if you actually cared about your kids for once." With one look at Regulus' hidden grin, Sirius knew he pointed perfectly the reason this wedding was taking place during a gruesome war. Wallburga needed to see with her own two eyes the blood line of the most ancient and purest family in wizarding Britain being secured.

"You will leave this place in an instant!" Wallburga emphasized her words by pointing her wand towards her son. Y/n saw the gulp Sirius wished to pass unnoticed. Both brothers tensed, growing even more restless as few others in the gathering drew their own wands. Regulus' fingers curled and uncurled around the magic wood at his side. Y/n prepared herself for a fight as well. Though it was unclear why Sirius showed up, it could only be a matter of the Order, right? Which must mean he came as an Auror. Probably to pick her up for interrogation. But all alone? That was a new kind of brave idiocy on his part.

"I can't do that, I'm afraid." Sirius advanced. "I made a terrible mistake and I won't leave... unless y/n wants me to."

Under the pressure of too many pairs of eyes on her, the witch widened her own and stumbled backwards. Regulus caught her elbow to keep her from falling, giving a subtle nod at the same time. Hear him out, it seemed to say.

"I can't say I do." The witch ignored her parents' burning glares and the disapproving sighs around the room. As much as she wanted to dispatch her insufferable son, Walburga knew causing a scene wouldn't be the best course of action. So she stepped back, allowing Sirius a clear path to y/n.

The wizard tucked his wand away and strode forward, stopping a few inches before the pair about to marry. Disregarding the audience, Sirius fell to his knees. His grey eyes bore through y/n's, trying to travel as far as her soul. "I am so, deeply sorry, y/n!" His head fell, a curtain of black hair muffling the sound of his voice.

"I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I should have listen to you, truly listen. I..."

"Don't think I'm a purist sod anymore?"

Sirius winced. "I never thought you a sod," he mumbled. "But that's not... what I try to say is- uh, I was wrong. You couldn't have been the spy, you're so much better than this, I know that."

"Now you know that?"

"I've always did. It just took me too much to admit it. I was looking for someone to blame and you were there. You've always been there... I'm so bloody sorry, y/n!"

"What made you change your mind? Why now?" Y/n's voice ringed hoarse and unsteady.

"I missed you. I've gotten jealous on Prongs and Lils, I couldn't lose you."

"You broke up with me. How is that not losing me?"

"I don't know. I don't... just, I don't know." Sirius' shoulders shrinked but he brought his silver eyes up in a teary plea. "Just, please? Please forgive me. Please."

In the silence that followed, in which y/n took her time to process what happened, Wallburga scoffed. "That's ridiculous! Get on your feet, boy and get out of here. You wasted enough of our time." Some rumbles of agreement echoed from person to person. But Sirius didn't move. It seemed like he didn't even hear his mother, with how focused he was on y/n.

A few guests moved to forcefully remove the stray wizard, but Regulus hexed them subtly. The spell wore off as soon as it bloomed, but it gave y/n enough time to reach her ex. She played with her sleeves, unfurling threads by mistake which she later ripped off altogether.

"Get up, will you?" Y/n tried to keep her voice even. But to Sirius it sounded like a final sentence. He shook his head, rubbing his bowled fists over his thighs. "Y/n, please. Please. Don't tell me to leave." His voice broke as the wizard chocked over his feelings.

Y/n rolled her eyes to sooth the stinging of tears. The y/e/c landed on the lean muscled figure at her feet. "That's not what I'm doing, Sirius." She said, wiping her face and dropping down next to him.

Her palms cupped his face, forcing Sirius to look at her. "You really, really hurt me."

"I know..."

"But," y/n quickly cut him off, "you hurt yourself too while at it. And I missed you." A miserable chuckle surfaced from the bottom of her lungs. "I missed you so bloody much!"

Sirius looked confused. Too afraid to hope, but feeding it to his yearning nonetheless. "Does it mean I'm forgiven?"

"Promise to never pull something like that again?"

"Yes! Merlin, y/n, yes. I swear it!" Sirius suddenly jumped, cackling like a maniac as he scooped her up in his arms and twirled and twirled and twirled until he lost his balance and had to stop.

"Sirius," y/n breathed between laughs. The man in question leaned down to press a kiss on top of her head.

"Sorry, m'love. Couldn't help it."

Y/n rolled her eyes again, but the glee that took over her remained as strong as ever. Lost in their happiness, the newly found couple missed the crowd circling in on them. Sensing the danger of all the man Death Eaters against them, Regulus grabbed his brother and friend and apparated away.

"What the hell?" Sirius eyed his little brother with a scold on his face. The magic took him by surprise.

Y/n raised a brow at him. "I think what you really mean to say is 'thank you, Reggie', isn't it?"

The young Lord Black smiled complicity to her, grinning at Sirius' expression. It varied from short lived anger to a quick fright only to stop at annoyance. "Maybe. Whatever," the wizard mumbled, sighing resigned. "Thanks, little brother." He said eventually, a small smile playing on his lips.

Regulus nodded, pleased. "I'll leave you alone. It's probably for the best."

"Wait!" Sirius exclaimed. Taking everyone by surprise. "I was thinking," the wizard starting, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. "Well, if y/n is dressed for the occasion... wouldn't it be a shame to waste such beautiful clothes?"

"Sirius Orion Black! Are you proposing to me?"

"I don't have a ring yet, but I promise I'll sell my bike if I have to so I can buy you the prettiest one. That's it, if you want to. Do you? Want to marry me, that's it."

"Who's gonna perform the ceremony if I say yes?"

"Not to influence your answer; in fact, I truly beg of you to consider it more, but I could do it if you're sure." Regulus chimed in.

Both Black brothers were starring expectantly at her. But it didn't faze y/n. She knew exactly what she'd choose. "I see you are a man of many talents, Lord Black," the witch started, mocking a high class accent. "Very well, then. Proceed to marry us."

Sirius actually squealed, though he'd never admit it. And when the sun sat far in the distance, leaving Britain behind for warmer places, two shadows mingled together in a passionate kiss, filled with love and longing, desire and despair. But most importantly a shared cheerful dream of a bright future together.

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beyondspaceandstars · 4 years ago

Text

The Wounded

Relationship: Steve Rogers x Reader [Dating], Bucky Barnes x Reader [Platonic] Warnings: mantions of kidnapping, slight depictions of PTSD, angst Summary: After you survive a kidnapping that ends up affecting you in ways you and Steve never anticipated, you turn to Bucky for comfort leaving Steve confused and insecure. A/N: alright this is an older one I had sitting on my computer i felt like uploading but very sorry for the lack of content! I am currently dealing with finals but this is my last year so fingers crossed i’ll have more time after this! Still, please enjoy this, I remember really enjoying writing it :)

Masterlist

You shot up in bed suddenly, praying your eyes would adjust to the pitch black darkness of your bedroom fast enough to ease your brain. As your heart raced and sides ached with bruises, you took in your surroundings finally.

You were in your bed, your boyfriend Steve sleeping peacefully next to you. You knew this in your brain but your heart didn’t. It still raced relentlessly, just a haunting reminder of your latest nightmare.

The nightmares always had the same theme. They always seemed to circle back to your troubling and scarring kidnapping you had suffered just a few weeks ago. It was a devastating ploy by some equally devastating men to get to your boyfriend. The abduction didn’t last very long — just about a week in some musty, dirty cell being kicked around — but the scars it left on your brain where so much deeper than you had ever realized until recently.

The physical abuse was bad but the bruises and cuts were healing just fine. It was the mental and emotional games they played that was going to take longer to ease. The words were haunting and they followed you in every crevasse of your brain, typically leaving you running on a couple of hours a sleep. It was a cruel routine: go to bed safe and sound, find peace for two hours, wake up in a cold sweat, watch mindless TV in the common area until breakfast.

Here we go, you thought as you made your way out of the bed. Steve was still undisturbed, in a peaceful dream sleep, typically unaware of your absence. The few times he had caught on you rushed him back to bed, claiming you just wanted a midnight snack. He never questioned it but his eyes always told you he wasn’t convinced. You ignored it — you just couldn’t tell him. The guilt he carried about your kidnapping was unbelievable. You worked so hard to convince him you were alright, it wasn’t ever his fault, and that the wounds were healing because you couldn’t bare to see those eyes in such a miserable state.

It really wasn’t a total lie — the wounds were swell and you wouldn’t dare to blame him for something not in his control — but then the nightmares started. The daunting voice began chiming in. The depression… the anxiety… the fear… it all came at once so unexpectedly.

You tugged on your fluffy robe along with your slippers and made your way to the kitchen. As you rounded the corner you were stunned to see the kitchen light already on. Peaking your head in, your eyes fell on Bucky who was situated at the kitchen island snacking on some chips.

You stared, unsure of whether you should head to the living room and venture into the kitchen. No one had ever been up with you before and if they did, they never made themselves known.

"I can feel you staring, Y/N."

Bucky’s rough voice brought you out of your ridiculous phase. You sighed and made your way to the fridge.

"What are you doing up?" You asked, grabbing a carton of vanilla ice cream along with a spoon and making your way to the island. You stood opposite of him, watching and waiting for a reply as he crunched on the chips.

"Isn’t this the time you always get up?"

His question stunned you. Holding his intense stare, you placed your spoon on the counter next to the ice cream. Suddenly, your stomach was in a knot. Maybe a part of you didn’t want anyone to know what was going on.

"I just wanted a snack," You gave your go-to spiel but the ex-assassin wasn’t buying one bit of it.

"Every night?" Bucky scoffed. "Probably should eat a bigger dinner, then."

You rolled your eyes as he gave you his know-it-all smirk. You loved Bucky really —totally loved his company and all that — he had been such a great friend to you and so inviting but no matter what, without a fail, he could always pick up on anything that was off. Steve, of course, could see right through you but he always gave you the benefit of the doubt. He was gentler with you, never wanting to pry or upset you, and you were so thankful for that. But Bucky didn’t give a shit — if something was wrong he was gonna find out one way or another.

"Why are you up?" You repeated your initial question, getting a bit fed up with this now. He stalled your question and reached for more chips. You sighed in annoyance and opened the ice cream carton, digging into the creamy deliciousness.

"Something’s up with you," Bucky finally answered. His voice was a bit softer and way less cocky. Hearing someone express they saw you weren’t okay nearly had you in tears. You shoveled more ice cream in your mouth, staring down at the granite counter.

You shook your head. "Just wanted a snack."

"Jesus Christ, Y/N." Bucky groaned. "Come on, don’t make this hard." You placed your spoon in the carton, pushing it to the side. You fiddled with your nails as thoughts and feelings swarmed in your brain. It couldn’t hurt for someone to know, right?

"Nightmares," You spoke softly, voice cracking ever so slightly. "Just some bad nightmares."

"The kidnapping," He whispered. You saw his fists clinch at the mention of it. Your kidnapping had shocked everyone. They all had their own way of handling it but usually it was just a lot of confusion. You weren’t some hero. You didn’t have magical power or a fancy training. You were just a nurse who bandaged up the heroes when they came back. Even with dating Steve, no one expected you to be a casualty.

"It’s really messing with my brain," The words were rough to get out but once they were out there, you felt a new freedom. A weight you never realized was so heavy was being lifted so carelessly with words.

Bucky just nodded and waited for you to continue.

From then on, your nightly routine was no longer a lonesome thing. Bucky began joining you every night with snacks and a therapy session. It felt easy to talk with him about it especially since he understood. He didn’t have to pretend to know how you felt — he had felt it all, too. He got what being captive was like, how the mental manipulation went, how strong the effects of it all could be… You for once didn’t feel crazy. But most importantly — someone knew. Like really knew. And you were immensely grateful.

It seemed to be helping as well. You knew when the thoughts got rough, you could just spew it all out. You could talk about what exactly had happened to you without fear of being looked at differently. The whole thing was like breathing fresh air. You could even sometimes fall back asleep on the couch which now put your sleeping time up to four glorious hours.

The nightly chats really put your daytime spirits back up. So much so, Steve was getting a little suspicious. While he was so relieved you seemed to be doing better, the steps you took to get there were still a mystery to him and you could tell he was curious. When you’d join him in your shared room at the end of the day, he’d ask more questions about what you had done through the day. It was almost like he wanted a play-by-play and you did your best to comply.

It wasn’t until a week or so later that he started catching on to you leaving in the middle of the night. Without knowing it, he had used all his might to stay up one night to see if something was going on. You didn’t appear to be doing anything but work during the day so something must’ve been happening in the night — and that’s when his mind wandered. The thoughts of what could be helping you started to get a little unpleasant.

It was a random Tuesday night and you were on the couch with Bucky eating some pretzels. He was sitting up right while you were laying on the couch, legs thrown over his lap. You were going on about how your nightmares had gotten weaker when unexpected foot steps halted your words.

"What’s this?" The unmistakably strong voice of your boyfriend boomed through the living room. You scrambled to sit up, throwing pretzels all over the coffee table. Both stunned and unsure, you and Bucky stared at Steve. His demeanor was hard, his face unamused, and his eye said he was ready for a fight.

"Steve, babe, what-," You fumbled for your words, trying your best to reason. He hadn’t caught you two doing anything but his energy was so startling it made you unexplainably scared.

"What? What am I doing up? What are you doing up?" He marched towards the couch. Hesitantly, you stood up to face him. Bucky stayed seated, looking at you both with a slight expression of annoyance. He knew how possessive his best friend could get but this felt excessive.

"Just wanted a snack-,"

"Don’t bullshit me," Steve growled, taking an intimidating step towards you. You jumped at the harshness. Sure, you guys had had disagreements before but this was entirely new.

"I… I’m not… Steve-,"

Steve took a deep breath.

"Y/N," His voice got deeper. It was slightly too calm compared to his attitude just seconds before. "Tell me why you’re up at night sneaking around with my best friend."

"Sneaking around?!" You gasped. "Steve, that is not-,"

"OH, IT’S NOT?" Steve’s voice boomed throughout the common area. Even a watching Bucky jumped at the noise.

You quickly backed away from him, completely scared beyond belief. His eyes were harsh, his entire demeanor fuming with anger. You had never seen anything like this from him and it started to bring up the memories you worked so hard to heal from.

"Steve, man, take it down a notch…" Bucky finally stood from the couch and placed his hands on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve flinched back, nearly ready to throw one at Bucky, but something in him clicked. He lowered his hand and took a few deep breaths. Coming to his senses, he looked at you and saw the absolute horror on your face. He had never seen you look at him like that and it broke him into a million pieces.

"I… just… what the hell is going on?" Steve meant for it to come out nicer, but the harshness was yet to leave him and his tone. You started rubbing your hands together, a nervous tick you’ve had forever. Bucky tried to get you to stop when he noticed your movements, but Steve’s cold glare wouldn’t let him anywhere near you.

"I can’t sleep anymore," you said, breaking the silence with a much more powerful voice than you intended. You didn’t know you had the strength. "Ever since… I can’t sleep. I keep having these nightmares and Bucky’s been helping."

Steve scoffed, "Helping?"

Bucky rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Now you were getting weary of both super soldiers.

"We sit up talking," Bucky explained. "It helps her… well both of us, really, to talk, watch TV… anything."

"And you didn’t tell me this because…?" Steve asked, pointing his attention back on you. When his eyes met yours, a shiver went down your spine as his cold gaze. You sighed, realizing the gig was up.

"God, Steve, I didn’t wanna worry you!" You exclaimed. "The last thing you need is a girlfriend with PTSD. You go through enough shit and I just didn’t wanna pile it on."

The admission sat in the air heavily around you three. Bucky looked relieve you finally said something but Steve’s eyes just held so much confusion. Personally, you felt so much weight coming off you. You thought you’d never have to tell him, assumed everything would sort itself out, but no, you finally spoke up.

"Honey," Steve sighed with sudden tears forming in his eyes. "You didn’t… You shouldn’t have done that, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

You nodded, "Steve it was just so scary. I didn’t know what to do. Bucky was just there and he got it and would just sit up with me and-,"

"Alright, hon," Steve cut you off and made his way closer. Thankfully, you didn’t flinch away. "I understand and I’m glad you had someone, but I would’ve helped. I can help you, sweetheart."

"I’m sorry," You whispered as he pulled you into a hug. You threw your arms around his torso and buried your face in his chest, letting the pent up tears flow. Steve rest his chin on your head, stroking your hair softly.

"I didn’t know you were hurting this much," he admitted.

"It’s been so fucking scary,"

Steve could almost feel his heart breaking at the sound of your voice alone. Your words just piled on so much.

"I should let you two…" Bucky began, essentially forgotten standing next to you two. You pulled away from Steve to look at him.

"Thank you, Buck," you said.

Steve nodded in agreement. "I’m sorry for the overreacting I just… I thought the worst, but really you probably saved my girl."

Bucky gave a small smile and patted Steve on the back. "I didn’t do anything. It’s her strength you gotta thank."

With that, he made his way to the elevator and back to his room, leaving you two still standing in an embrace in the common area. You stared up at Steve, watching his expression towards you change. What was once so scary and harsh was back to the softest man you’d ever met.

"We’ll make some calls in the morning but for now, would you come back to bed?" Steve asked. "I can’t imagine anymore nights without you."

You nodded, giving him a peck on the lips. He led you back to the shared bedroom and for once, you went to bed with a sense of hope.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #angst #steve rogers angst #mcu #mcu fic #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel #avengers #writing*#fluff

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amor-immortalem · 3 years ago

Text

Everything Undesired

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings: dead dove: do not eat, heavily implied rape, gross misuse of a pact, dissociation victim blaming

Summary: not all pact masters use their pacts judiciously or in a positive way. What happens when a pact is misused in one of the worst ways possible?

A/N: so a while back I did a comic by the name of ‘Meet Me Under the Azaleas’ I’m no longer happy with the writing I put into it originally so I wanted to rewrite it using the same plot line and adding some extra scenes that weren’t in the original comic which I’ll be taking down tonight. It should work better as a fic anyway.

Chapter 1

“You are ours. We own you.”

Those words rang in his head over and over as he stumbled his way into his room, overstimulated, exhausted- a mess. He knew it was a mistake to answer the call of those witches tonight. The thoughts of what they did, how their hands ran over his body, what they had taken away. It made his stomach churn and tie itself in knots with guilt and shame. It burned just the same as the rope marks on his wrists and ankles- wounds that would heal within the hour.

“You won’t breathe a word of this to anyone- this we command of you, Avatar of Greed.”

Those women -no, they were monsters- abused the innate trust that comes with a demon who enters a pact with a human, multiple in this case. They had violated the boundaries he’d put in place the day he started dating his human. Oh God, what would she think if word ever got out? He had no way of speaking out- to scream the truth until his voice was raw.

He needed to shower, to get the stench of sex and sweat off of him. He had to get their scent off of him. As he entered the bathroom, Mammon tore off his clothes as he started the water. The lights remained off as he couldn’t bare to look at himself after what happened. Not after how he just let them use him like that.

He stepped under the boiling water and just let it run against him. The falling water did nothing to drown out the deafening voices running rampant in his mind.

“Disgusting!” They roared, “Useless! Pathetic! Weak! Whore! ….. Scum!”

He falls to the floor of his shower, hands gripping at his hair as he let out a whimper that eventually turned into quiet sobs. The steamy air making it harder to breathe. Why didn’t he fight against them harder- against their orders. No, he just laid there and took it.

He grabbed the soap and a wash rag and scrubbed his body until every bit of him was raw and even then he wouldn’t stop. It was only when he saw the blood swirling around the drain that Mammon realized what he was doing to himself- how bad the water burned the exposed skin. It felt like hellfire raining down upon him.

He felt horrible as he reached up and switched the water off. He could still hear it in his head as he reached for a towel- all the crying, screaming, begging for them to stop.

He was a pathetic, sorry excuse of a demon, he thinks as he wraps the towel around his waist and travels down the his stairs quietly. It’s early morning now. There was only a few hours left before he would have wake up for school. He contemplated just skipping the entire day. There would be know way he’d be able to function. He could always say he feels sick- its not that far from the truth. He would decide in a few hours, he thought as he crawled into bed. It didn’t take long for her to move closer to him. His naturally warmer body temperature was what drew her to him. His body involuntarily tensing as she nuzzled into his chest, arms slipping around his body. He would only tuck her head under his chin and drape and arm over her side as he let the scent of her shampoo relax him enough to fall into a light sleep.

After a short while, someone's alarm blared among the sheets- whether it his or Arella's, he couldn't be sure. Mammon patted around for the offending phone, just wanting to get five more minutes of shut eye. He eventually succeeded but not without waking his partner.

"Morning, Love," Arella sighed, her voice still laced with the grogginess of sleep.

"Mornin', Treasure," The demon yawns as he curls back up, pulling her closer to his chest. "Sleep well?"

"I did. What time you get back last night?" Arella's voice is soft as her hand slides under his shirt, rubbing gently along his side.

"5 this mornin'." He says as he tries to hide the way his body recoils from her touch, a pang of guilt strikes his heart as she notices. "Sorry... 'm not really feelin' all that great right now..."

"No, that's alright." She removes her hand from his side, choosing instead to rest it against his cheek as she readjusts herself so she's eye-level with him on the pillow. "How selfish of those witches to keep you out so late on a school night..." Its at this point she notices the puffiness and how red his eyes are. "You look like you've been crying... Is everything alright?"

He just shakes his head. Mammon wants so badly to tell her what happened to him the night before- the real reason he got home so late, but unsurprisingly, no words come out. He just closes his eyes, letting himself relax under her gentle touch. "I'm jus' really tired s'all."

"I believe it. You only got a hour and a half's worth of sleep. Would you like to just stay home all day, just the two of us?" Arella moves him so he's resting with his head on her chest.

"That's sounds.... nice," he hums quietly, so close to falling back into the clutches of sleep.

"Alright then. Go on and go back to sleep," She kisses the top of his head, carding her fingers through the soft, fluffy locks the other hand rubbing small circles in the center of his back. "I've got you."

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This carried on for months. The witches would summon him and as long as he complied with their wishes, they would hold his secret. By the third time, he would check out- let his mind escape to anywhere but the present until it was over. It became a vicious cycle. They would call, he would go to them, and then he would crawl into his bed for maybe an hour or two before forcing himself to get up for classes that he often fell asleep in. After the tenth, once they had finished with him, he asked why they were doing this and they told him.

“We desire something to bind you to us for the rest of our lives.”

“A child.”

The demon’s eyes widened at that. Never in his life had he been so opposed to the idea of having children. In fact, just before all of this happened he had been daydreaming about what his children with Arella would look like if they were ever so fortunate to have any but a child with one of the witches? It made him sick. A half-demon born from a demon of his status had a high probability of killing its mother- one who he would then have to raise. How could he explain that to his brothers- to Arella? The very thought filled him with dread. How could he ever bring himself to care for a child conceived from a crime? A child that would always be nothing but a constant reminder of the worst nights of his life. They didn’t deserve a life like that.

And so Mammon did the only thing he could think to do: he fled. He ran back to the Devildom, back to House of Lamentation as fast a his legs would carry him. He crashed through the doors of the house. Never had he been so greatful to be the first one home. As he climbed the steps up to his room he vowed to himself never again. He wouldn’t give them what they wanted, consequences be damned.

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It had been six months since his last encounter with the witches. There was nothing on their end- absolute radio silence. Part of Mammon wondered if they'd gotten what they wanted from him after all. Everyday was filled with the anxiety of not knowing. His nightmares had gotten worse. Most of them were based around those nights he'd spent with them, others involved everyone finding out a one-sided version of what had happened, all spun in the favor of the witches. He dreamed of Arella leaving him, heart-broken from the implication that he would stray from her and running into the arms of one of his brothers. The worst ones- the ones he would wake up from covered in a cold sweat in the dead of night- consisted of him standing in the witches' home, the sounds of screaming, the smell of blood, the piercing first cries somewhere between the call of a demon and the screams of a human baby infecting his senses. It all felt too real. It felt like a crushing weight on his chest.

Over this time, Mammon had grown distant from both his brothers and Arella, hardly spending anytime with them. He fell apart. The grades he worked so hard to pull up had taken a nose dive, he was hardly eating- choosing only to consume just barely enough to sustain himself. He no longer slept for fear of the nightmares and he instead threw himself into side jobs that would keep him out of the house well passed curfew as well as earn him plentiful amounts of grimm. He couldn't go on like this much longer.

Everyone was worried for him. None of them had ever seen the Avatar of Greed in this manner and the gradual change in his demeanor alarmed them. Despite everyone’s best attempts, Mammon hardly smiled anymore. He just simply didn't seem to enjoy all of the things he once did. They all knew something was wrong but when asked the white haired demon would shrug it off, say he was fine when he very obviously was not. Everything came to a head the night Mammon collapsed, finally falling victim to exhaustion and hunger.

It was after this that Lucifer called the family to a meeting while Arella sat with Mammon in his room as he slept fitfully.

"What do we do, Lucifer?" Asmo seemed distraught with fear. "Our brother is suffering from something and we don't even know where to start in trying to help him."

"We have to get him to talk somehow," Satan quipped, "Perhaps Arella can-"

"If this were any other situation, I would suggest it but right now, I don't think that's a very wise move. If she forces him to talk it could very well damage the bond they share." For the first time in thousands of years, Lucifer didn't know what to do. Whatever was causing this shift in personality was eating away at Mammon. "We'll try to think of a way to fix this- to find out what happened to our dear brother. So let's start at the beginning of all of this. What do we know about what he was doing before this happened?"

"Well, Levi started, "He was getting called up by those witch sisters with more and more frequently. I heard him come home super late- like early morning hours late..."

"And after that is when he practically stopped eating." Beel chimed in.

"And he was having nightmares almost nightly, afterwards." Belphie nodded. "I did my best with my powers to look into them but there were so many mental blocks that he subconsciously put up, I couldn't see or hear anything very well and what I could see didn't make a whole lot of sense. They weren't very clear, but they had something to do with the witches... and I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt associated with them."

"Then obviously something happened while he was with them," Satan said, brow furrowed. "But what that may be, we won't know until he talks."

"Asmo, I see the look on your face." Lucifer called out to the Avatar of Lust. "Is there something, you'd like share with the group?"

Everyone's eyes were locked onto Asmodeus as the demon sat with a contemplative look on his face. He was very slowly starting to piece together what had been going on.

"Not yet, but I may have a hunch." He finally said. "Mammon has a pact with these women, correct?"

Masterlist 2

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thesuperiorloki · 3 years ago

Text

The writing for Loki got so sloppy after TDW. In that film he was given a complete arc and bringing him back to life with no concrete plan makes the narrative line awkward. It wasn’t rendered impossible to work with, but that possibility was wasted by Marvel bringing him back with no forethought and then hiring writers that didn’t care about or understand Loki’s past or motivations, which caused his story and characterization to become disjointed and unsatisfying to anyone who was paying attention.

Loki’s motivation in his first three films was to feel worthy and to gain a sense of control over his life. His flaws came from seeking that worthiness and control in the wrong ways, first by trying to destroy Jotunheim and then by trying to rule Earth (level of culpability for the second act debatable because Marvel refuses to confirm exactly how much power Thanos had over him). This narrative circle was closed in TDW when he acts selflessly to avenge his mother, help protect Jane, and assist Thor in defeating Malekith: he proves himself a trustworthy ally in carrying out Thor’s plan and demonstrates he can do the right thing for the people he loves and that he cares about and can protect others. Through these actions he proves he is worthy. Furthermore, when he is dying and repeating “I’m sorry”, it is possible to infer he is not only apologizing to Thor for his mistakes in that moment but for every wrong he has committed. So he not only narratively repents for his misdeeds through his actions, he verbally repents for them as well. That’s a complete arc.

Deciding at the 11th hour to not only keep Loki alive but to show him having returned to Asgard and ascending the throne flushes all of that characterization and growth right down the toilet. It’s so clear that Marvel threw that scene in at the last minute without fully thinking it through.

The thing is, Loki could have walked away from this mistake relatively intact if Marvel had gone back and addressed issues in his past that did still need resolving, such as finally gaining control over his own narrative and realizing his own value. Instead, they permanently hamstrung him by hiring first Waititi and then Waldron, two people who have expressed not only ignorance and indifference to Loki as a character but at times open contempt. Rather than touch on Loki’s Jotun heritage or his father’s lies and neglect, Waititi and Waldron chose to retcon him into a one-dimensional power-hungry narcissist, whose tribulations are selfish, pathetic, and self-inflicted. Waldron purposefully ignores the good he did in TDW, Ragnarok, and IW and reframes the narrative to make it look like he was uncaring and ungrateful for his innocent family because he was too self-centered to see how much they loved him. That’s all canonically bullshit and provably false. By making up character flaws he never had, Waititi and Waldron prevented Loki from getting closure on his real struggles and messily severed his narrative arc into something un-mendable.

Insult to injury, Waldron and crew frame Loki’s healing in the show as coming through abuse and yet more indifference. He is manipulated, gaslit, belittled, and beaten and this is presented as the much-needed impetus that snaps him out of his sniveling myopia and forces him to actually care about others by stepping back and accepting his rightful place as inherently lesser. The series actually presses turbo-rewind on any growth Loki achieved during the film timelines and forces him right back to square one, where he is pushed aside and silenced and undervalued. It even goes a step further and adds a dash of physical abuse because nothing cures self-hatred like a good old-fashioned beating, amirite? Sickening.

To me the lack of thoughtfulness and care that Marvel demonstrably put into continuing Loki’s story after TDW is unacceptable for the largest and wealthiest media company in the world: Disney has the money and the influence to hire any writer they should so desire with just a single ring of the phone. There is simply no excuse for the nosedive in the quality of writing and I have no respect for Feige for letting it get in this state. I personally feel everything from Ragnarok on was thoroughly and excessively disrespectful to all of the hard work that Tom, Kenneth, and the writers who gave a damn about Loki put in to create the character that everyone fell in love with in the first place. It was the heart and the vulnerability and the human struggle that we connected with and Marvel just wiped that all away like it was nothing. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why.

Anyway, I don’t know how to end this, so have an emoji of my mental state: 🤪

#loki series negativity #I’m sorry this is long af I don’t know how to do read mores on mobile :|#also I said I was going to shut up but I didn’t

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backtobackbakubabe · 3 years ago

Text

Speak Easy Part 6

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 4954

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

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

You had attempted to rush off to your room, but you hardly made it back into the house before your knees gave out. It wasn’t even because your legs were tired. If that were the case, you would have gladly crawled just to get away from him. No, you fell because your head was spinning.

You couldn’t seem to catch your breath as the world spun around you. You curled up on your side and let the tears silently stream down your cheeks. You didn’t know how to make it stop because you didn’t even know what was happening. Were you having another panic attack? Was it a side effect of drowning? Was this what it felt like to break Cogernot’s quirk?

Regardless you did as Dabi taught you. You closed your eyes, you took as deep of breaths as you could manage, and you counted.

You heard him step into the house and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he sat next to you. He made no attempts to touch you or say anything. Which was probably for the best because you could feel yourself on the verge of a mental break.

This was going to be the thing that pushed you over the edge. The whole time you’ve been here you’ve kept your shit together. In all fairness it was mostly due to Dabi’s strict routine. He didn’t give you time to wallow of feel sorry for yourself. From day one he focused on your recovery. But it wasn’t until now that you realized you never talked to him about what happened to you. It was almost as if he thought if the two of you didn’t talk about it, you would just somehow magically forget it ever happened. You bottled it up and pushed it away, but it was still there. Threatening to explode all over the progress you had made. Today just might be the day.

“I know you want nothing to do with me right now… but –“

Your eyes shot open to see him reaching a hand out to you. You smacked it away. ~Don’t touch~

Dabi visibly flinched. Why had you just signed at him? Had he not just broken you free of that shitty quirk? Had he failed? Was this all for nothing? He almost started to panic himself but then he remembered you HAD spoken. Even if your words dripped with hatred and your eyes cut him to the bone. You spoke… out loud…

He desperately wanted to pull you into his lap. To calm you down. To praise you and comfort you. But he knows he can’t. He’s lost that privilege. You don’t even need him anymore. You’re starting to walk just fine on your own now. You don’t need him… and he was the one who helped you get there.

The thought upset him more than it should have. He didn’t even want you here to begin with. How had you managed to crawl under his skin so much? You had wormed your way into his life and now every thought was consumed by you. Taking care of you, feeding you, making you strong again.

You slowly stood up and gave him one last glare before storming off to your room. Well in your head you stormed off, but in reality, it was more like a drunken wobble. You were still soaked to the bone and you were starting to shiver. You had made a puddle on the kitchen floor where you had been lying, and because that was just the kind of day you were having you slipped right through it.

Dabi was on his feet and hovering behind you. His hand gripped your elbow to steady you. You activated your quirk and let him feel the rage bubbling inside you. You wanted him to know how angry you were, how hurt and betrayed you felt. At first he gripped you tighter, but eventually your emotions overwhelmed him and he had to let go, just so he didn’t have to feel them anymore.

You ripped your arm away the second he dropped it and continued towards your room. You threw the door open and slammed it behind you. You slumped to the floor and did something you had needed to do for weeks now. You screamed. You let all of it out. Your anger, your fear, your heartache. You screamed until your throat was raw and your head pounded.

When you were done you took a deep breath, picked your head up, and let the numb wash over you. You stripped out of your wet clothes and hoped into a warm shower. The whole time the only thought in your head was ‘Why?’

The next few hours passed in a blur. You managed to get out of the shower and get into bed, but you couldn’t sleep. Your adrenaline was pumping. You couldn’t convince your body you were safe enough to sleep. It remained in fight or flight. You sat there in silence hugging the pillow to your chest.

It was so quiet that the creek of the floorboards outside you room made you jump. “Y/n… I know you’re mad at me… but you still need to eat something.” You heard him shuffle around a bit. “I’ll just leave it out here by the door. I’ll be in my room….”

You didn’t move from your spot on the bed until you heard his door close across the hall. Part of you knew that you needed to eat. But a larger part of you just… couldn’t. You didn’t understand. The food was right there, you just needed to open the door. But for some reason you just couldn’t make yourself do it. So instead you rolled over and pulled out your journal.

There was something ironic about you didn’t really need it anymore, yet now was the time you were most desperate to write in it. So you did. You poured your thoughts out page after page. Everything you wanted to say to Dabi, everything you wanted to say to Katsuki, to Izuku, to Todoroki and Kirishima. You started writing down memories of what had happened to you, in as much gory detail as you could remember. You wrote and you wrote and hours passed as you hunched over your notebook just looking for the right words to take the pain away. What would it take? What did you need to do to make yourself feel better?

It wasn’t until there was a soft knock on the door that you realized how deep into it you were. “Y/n… Be mad at me all you want, but don’t take it out on yourself. You need to eat something. Please. I made lunch. I’ll leave it here.” You heard the scraping of a plate being put on the floor outside your room.

How was that man capable of being such a monster, and yet so soft? He literally tried to kill you and now here he is worrying over you because you’re not hungry? Funny how dying tends to fuck with a person’s appetite.

You began to really think about Dabi. His motivation in all of this, what did he gain from helping you? Was he just doing his little brother a favor? Sometimes he treated you like his bratty little sister, and then there were nights like last night… You felt your face heat at the memory of you riding his thigh. It had felt so right at the time, but now it makes your stomach twist.

“Y/N! Can you at least say something, so I know that you’re fucking alive?”

The audacity of this fucking man. He wants to make sure you’re alive… after he almost killed you….

You picked up a cup that had been sitting on your nightstand and threw it at the door. It shattered on impact and it had felt to fucking good. There, that should be enough confirmation for him.

“GOD DAMNIT! ENOUGH Y/N! I’ve let you have your pity party. I don’t care if you’re mad at me. I don’t care if you want to throw a fucking tantrum. But you WILL eat something. This is getting fucking ridiculous.”

You picked up the lamp and threw that next. It was sturdier than the cup had been, so it wasn’t as satisfying but it got your point across none the less.

“Y/n… open the door please. We can talk about this.”

He had to have known your door wasn’t locked. It was one of the laws. It was one of your laws. Yet he made no attempt to open it. He remained on the other side with your uneaten food.

“Well if that’s how you want to be then fine. I guess I’ll just have to sit here and talk to the door then.” You heard him slide down the door as he sat down, leaning against it. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I need you to know that. I need you to know that I realize how fucked up what I did was. I don’t want to make excuses, but I do want to explain. And I want to do it when you can look me in the eye, so you know I’m not lying.”

Again, he was met with radio silence. He sat there for a long time. Finally, after what felt like hours he stood up, “I guess I’ll go start dinner then…”

You looked at the clock on the wall and was surprised to see how late it was. Usually around this time you’d be finishing up with the pool, you cringed. Yeah safe to safe you won’t be getting back in, probably ever.

Dabi forced himself to leave your door, carrying your second uneaten meal of the day with him. He woke up his laptop and started up the video for today’s lesson for sign language. He watched it as he cooked, but he didn’t absorb anything. He was too focused on trying to find a way to fix this.

His hands kept clenching and unclenching. He knew what he needed to do. But it was going to suck. If it would get you to eat though then he didn’t care.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew you wouldn’t die from not eating for a day. He was more worried about the psychological part of it. When he got out of the league, he had started messing around this hot shrink. She had a real savior complex, but the one thing she got right about him was his need for control. After being abused for so long he had to have control over every situation. Which sometimes when he really felt helpless included his eating habits. When everything else felt out of control, at least he could control that. At least he could decide when and if he ate. He was nervous you were pulling the same shit. He didn’t want to see you waste away because you were desperate for something you could control.

He’d swallow his pride. He’d do this for you.

A knock on the door had you groaning.

“Hey dork. It’s me. Dabi called and said you weren’t feeling well. I made some spicy ramen with pork… You gonna let me in before it gets cold?”

You jumped to your feet and ran to the door. You cracked it open at first to make sure it really was Katsuki and that he was alone.

He smirked at you through the small gap, “Don’t worry he’s not with me, now let me in before I kick the door down.”

He opened it enough for Katsuki to enter and then quickly shut it again. He waited and followed you over to you bed and took a seat at the foot of it. “So, Scarface was a little vague on the details, but he said you were mad at him and refusing to eat.” He placed the warm bowl of ramen into your hands, “Want to talk about it?”

Your stomach started to rumble at the familiar smell of Katsuki’s cooking. You couldn’t deny yourself any longer. You took a huge bite and almost moaned at how good it tasted. You quickly took a few more bites before wiping you mouth on your sleeve and sighing. You needed to talk about it, but was Katsuki really the best option for that? The chances of him blowing up the house was pretty high.

You reached a hand out and put in on top of his and released a calming feeling. “Uh oh…must be bad you’re already trying to calm me down.”

You gave him a halfhearted smile, “Uh… well…” The sound of your own voice made your skin crawl. It sounded wrong, even though you were pretty sure that’s how it always sounded. It made you pause for a moment to collect yourself.

In that brief pause Katauki’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, “Wait a fuckin minute! You’re talking again? Since when? Holy shit!” You could feel his excitement bubbling up along with pride and admiration. It was sweet, and it gave you the boost you needed to keep going.

You played with a strand of your hair, “Since…. Now…. I guess.” You averted your eyes embarrassed, “Or well… since I… well I kind of drowned… briefly.” You looked back up and saw fire behind Katsuki’s eyes and anger was coming off of him in waves.

“And where was Dabi when this happened?”

You knew you were practically signing Dabi’s death certificate but telling Katsuki this, but you weren’t going to cover for him either. “He was there….”

Katsuki’s fist clenched, “Don’t tell me the bastard watched you almost die and didn’t help you.” You bit your lip. “Y/n… what are you not telling me?”

You put both hands on him now desperately trying to overwhelm him with calm emotions. “He was the one who held me under…”

His hands tore away from yours as they crackled with a very real threat of explosions. He stood and stomped towards your door, not even bothering to ask you to elaborate. You knew you needed to stop him, there was no scenario where this ended well for anyone. “Katsuki stop.” He ignored you as he reached for the door. “Katsuki… please.”

He froze with his hand hovering over the doorknob. His voice was dark and oddly low,“Y/n… there is nothing you could possibly say to me right now that would change my mind about killing the mother fucker.”

You couldn’t believe you were actually about to defend Dabi, but it wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t at least tell Katsuki the whole story. “Even I told you he did so I could talk again?”

He turned to look at you and signed as he spoke, “I still don’t care! You were learning sign… you were communicating just fine.” He threw his hands up in exasperation, “Why was him drowning you even fucking necessary?”

Katsuki was starting to take that familiar condescending tone with you and you honestly were not in the mood for it. He had done this a million times growing up. He’d make up his mind about something and make you feel dumb until you agreed with him. “Look I’m not saying that what he did was right. I’m not saying I’m not furious with him. Me not speaking was because of some guys quirk.” You stood and made your way over to Katsuki and began pushing him away from the door. “Dabi knew the guy and said if my brain thought I was dying it would somehow reverse the quirks affects.”

He stopped walking and it was like pushing against a brick wall. “You could have fucking died y/n!”

“Do you think I DON’T KNOW THAT?” You pushed on him again, “Do you think I’ve just been sitting here all day twiddling my thumbs? Today has been fucking awful! I don’t need you to talk sense into me. I don’t need you to kick the shit out of Dabi. What I need if for you to just sit down with me, and just- just let me be. I don’t know!” You gave him one final hard shove which lead to him sitting back at the end of your bed.

His eyes were a mixture of sadness and hurt. “I’m not trying to make this harder on you, I promise. But he put your life at risk and that’s not just something I can just be okay with.” His hands reached up and cupped your cheeks and brushed away a tear you hadn’t even realized was there. “I don’t know if you’ve realized this yet, but I would kind of prefer you to stay alive… you aren’t allowed to die before me. Especially at the hands of some ugly sociopath.”

You leaned into his touch, “Please, for me. Just let it go for now. Let this be between me and Dabi. Be mad all you want, believe me I’m pissed, but you don’t need to get involved. I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

He pulled you towards him and moved one hand to cradle the back of your head and pulled you into his arms. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Only because you said please. But I hope you know this means I’m coming to check on you more often now.” His fingers carded through your hair. “Actually… if you’re not comfortable here anymore… You could always come stay with me.”

“I thought that was too dangerous, what with heroes and villains alike apparently looking for me.”

He chuckled, “I’d love to see someone try. They’d have to go through me.”

“Yeah, but you can’t always be around… you have a job to do. An important one.”

He gave a sad sigh as his grip on you loosened enough for you to pull back and look at him, “Yeah… I do.” There were a few tense moments when your eyes connected, and you could see the way his eyes drifted to your lips as he licked his own. Ever so slightly he started leaning in closer to you.

Your breath hitched in your chest, as your brain went a mile a minute. Sure, you always had a feeling things might end up this way between you and Katsuki. There was a time when you went to bed every night fantasizing about the moment he would finally break down and admit he liked you. You had known him since you were children and there was always this feeling that if ever given the opportunity the two of you would end up together. But, for some reason it felt… off.

You leaned your forehead against his. “I don’t think right now is the best time for this.” You watched his eyes close as he tried to school his emotions. “It’s not that I don’t want to, because believe me I’ve thought about it. But right now, my life is in shambles. It’s not your job to fix me. That’s my job. And I need you to let me do it. Okay? I need you to let me do this on my own.”

He groaned but nodded as he pulled his head away from yours. “I don’t like it, but I get that I have to respect it.” His thumb rubbed soothing circles on your thigh. “I don’t want you to have to do this alone. I’ve always… Fuck.” His cheeks tinted the lightest shade of red. “I can’t stand to watch you struggle. It sucks knowing you’re out here stuck with him, dealing with so much shit that you should never have to deal with.” He hung his head low, “I just wish I could fight your demons for you. I wish I could lock you away and keep you safe from all the evil of this world.”

You pulled his chin up to make him look at you. “Katsuki you have always been there for me. There hasn’t been many problems in my life that I haven’t solved leaning on you for help.” You saw a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “But this isn’t something you can punch away. It isn’t something you can yell at until it stops hurting. I have to do this on my own.”

Tension was thick in the air. You knew there was so much he wanted to say. You could tell he was ready to fight you on this. But he surprised you by nodding and untangling himself from you. “I need to get going. I have a lot of work to do.” You could see the subtle sting of rejection in his eyes but he quickly covered it with his trademark smirk. “You say you don’t want my help but I’m going to anyway. I’ll help by locking up every single shithead that anything to do with your kidnapping.” He stood up and gave you one more, quick hug. “And that’s a fucking promise.”

You followed him as he left your room, intent on walking him to the door. You wanted to make sure he actually left instead of picking a fight with Dabi. But luck never had been on your side. You exited the main hallway and Dabi was sitting in his normal recliner. He looked up eyes cold as they landed on Katsuki, much softer when they found yours. You tried to give Katsuki a push in the direction of the door, but he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Oi! When I gave you the fucking list of things to do to help her with her period, I don’t remember drowning her being on it!”

Dabi’s eyes returned to Katsuki’s agitated one and for a while you thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Did you get her to eat something?”

“Don’t avoid the subject. You’re fucking lucky she begged me not to hurt you. Otherwise your ass would be dead.”

You something like surprise flash in Dabi’s expression. “Bold of you to assume that I am the lucky one here. It seems to me she was just trying to protect her little pet Pomeranian from getting hurt.” He grinned at the way Katsuki’s hands popped in anger. “But thank you for getting her to eat. She had me worried.”Bakugo lunged at him but you quickly stepped in the way and put a hand on his chest. You looked him in the eyes shaking your head and have him a shove towards the door.

Dabi could feel his stomach sink at the fact that the only words he had heard you say was “fuck you” He knew you had been in your room chatting away with man boobs and it stressed him out. Even now you refused to speak in his presence, and it killed him. He was the reason you could speak again and yet you refused to speak to him. That idiot Bakugo had nothing to do with it and yet gets to reap the benefit of Dabi’s sacrifice.

Dabi’s blood began to boil. He knew Bakugo would never in a hundred years have the balls to do what he did. He wouldn’t have the nerve to go through with it. Dabi did what he did for you, even if you refused to see it that way. Does he hate that he had to do it? Yes. Is he sorry, of course. But does he regret it… not really.

He watched as you pushed until Bakugo was successfully out of the house. As soon as the door was closed you turned and started to run back towards your room “OH NO YOU DON’T!”

He stood up and chased after you. “We are talking about this weather you want to or not. You can’t hide from me forever. You can’t mope around all day, not eating and expect me to just let that go. Law number seven we eat three full meals a day!” He got to your door just in time for you to slam it in his face. He had been so patient with you today. Not once had he forced himself into your room even the door was unlocked. He respected the fact you needed space. However, when he reached down and noticed that you had locked the door, he didn’t feel so bad about what he was about to do.

“Law number six! No locked doors!” His pressed his palm flat against the wooden door and burned straight through it. He burned a hole big enough for him to reach his hand through and unlock it from the inside.

He carefully avoided all of the broken glass on the ground from earlier. And stomped over to where you were trying to ignore him. You went through your dresser, picking out what you planned to wear to bed. You took a step towards the bathroom, but he stepped in your way.

“Y/n. Can we please talk about this?” You tried to step around him, but he just moved to block you again. “FINE! We don’t have to talk about it, but you will listen to what I have to say!”

You crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly and avoided making eye contact with him.

“I know what I did sucked. But I HAD to DO IT!” His voice was steadily getting louder. “You had to think you were dying. What did you want me to do? Hold your hand, tell you everything was going to be fine, and then pretend to drown you? It wouldn’t have worked!” He leaned over you and grabbed your chin forcing you took look at him. “I knew you’d be mad. I knew it might fuck up all the progress we’ve made. But I did it anyway! I did it for you!”

You slapped his hand away. “You DID IT FOR ME!? YOU ALMOST KILLED ME!”

There it was. Your voice. It hit him like a truck and it was enough to spur him on. “Yes for you! So you could talk again! So you could start to take back what those fuckers took from you! I decided you liking me wasn’t as important as you being able to talk again. Go ahead and hate me, but I need you to understand why I did it! What I was willing to sacrifice!”

Your eyes bore into his and it honestly almost sent shivers down his spine. “I understand just fine! You see me as this sad little broken girl. You thought I was so broken that you were willing to risk my life to fix me. Let that sink in Dabi… you gambled with MY life. What the hell were you sacrificing?”

“YOU!” His voice dripped with emotion. “I was sacrificing any chance I had with you so that one day I could watch you take back your life and get revenge on the people who hurt you.” He ran a hand through his white hair. “I would literally burn every single one of those monsters and piss on their ashes if I thought it’d help. But I know it wouldn’t! That’s a privilege that only belongs to you and I’d do anything to be able to watch you do it. Because I know you’re not broken! You’re a badass who doesn’t need anyone’s help. You are one strong bitch!”

There was pain in his eyes “I didn’t gamble with your life y/n, because I was so sure I wouldn’t let anything happen to you I was so sure nothing would go wrong.” He reached a hand out to touch your cheek, and surprisingly you let him. “Go ahead and activate your quirk. Feel what I feel. Feel what it was like to think I killed you. Feel what it was like to think that I am the monster everyone thinks I am…”

You activated your quirk and was hit so hard with anguish that you practically choked. He was grieving, even now, and somewhere buried under all his pain was something else entirely. But you weren’t ready to address that. “I hate what I did to you, but I don’t regret it, because it worked. It made you stronger. And in this fucked up world, only the strong make it out alive. So yes, Y/n… I did it for you.”

You felt you heart pounding in your chest. This was either the most fucked up or romantic thing you had ever heard, and you couldn’t figure out which one it was. Your hand came up to his that was still on your cheek. For a while you just stood there. Absorbing each other’s presence, then out of nowhere his lips cashed to yours.

Some animalistic instinct took over as you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer. He leaned over cupping your ass in hands and picking you up until your legs wrapped around his waist.

His lips pulled away from yours to start kissing down your neck nipping at your ear before returning to your lips. You squealed when his hand lightly slapped at your ass.

He made his way to the bathroom and sat your ass on the counter, his hands sliding up your thighs as he pulled back to look at you. “Law number thirteen?”

Part of you wanted to say no. You were still furious with him, but all your brain could think about was the orgasm you had just from riding his thigh. Your body was aching to be touched and from the look he was giving you, he was aching to touch you.

You slid your hand under his shirt and so lightly he almost didn’t hear it you muttered, “please.”

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

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe @unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry @dabislittlemouse @aimee1602 @pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44

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shirophantomvox · 4 years ago

Text

Analyzing Illumi Zoldyck's Character

Chrollo Analysis | Hisoka Analysis | Killua Analysis

What’s up y’all! Sorry for being away for the last few days. I needed a break from social media because I am so tired of seeing toxic, self-righteous people on my TL. Anyway, quite a lot of you liked my posts about analyzing HxH characters and somehow comparing them to VLD characters. Today, I’ll be talking about Illumi Zoldyck and I’ll try to compare him to a Voltron character. I know many people have already analyzed this character before, but it wouldn’t hurt to add to the discussion some years later. If you want me to write about anything else, send me an ask! The formatting of this post may be different than the one I wrote about Hisoka Morrow (click his name to view that post).

HERE WE GO!

In the first season, all of the characters are contestants for the Hunter’s Exam. I say contestants because this is a contest to see who can win without any injuries and can keep up with each host. I forget what number stage they were at, but I do know they were at the stage where each opponent has to fight each other. They are declared the winner if their opponent forfeits or gives up mid-match. (Off-topic, but) I am going, to be honest; Gon was my favorite character but his flaws began to show, annoyed me, and later led to his horrific downfall (based from YouTube clips). He didn’t know when to stop and kept pushing himself over the limit. Anyway, Killua and Gittarackur are set to fight. This is when things take a turn for the worse.

Gittarackur is a form of a disguise for Illumi to mask his identity. His face is long; nearly (and reminds me of) in the shape of a Tiki. His face also reminds me of the Witch Doctor mask from Scooby-Doo and Hell-raiser. He has several pins stuck in his face to maintain the facial features of Gittarackur. On the flip side, if he removes the pins, his biological form is revealed. Once he does this, Killua is nearly paralyzed; he cannot believe his eyes and I’m sure the trauma he endured at home hit him like a sack of rocks. Illumi then tells Killua that he wants him to return home, that he cannot maintain a friendship with Gon, stated that he was going to kill Gon, but realizes that if he does so he will be disqualified and will not obtain his Hunter’s license.

I’m assuming the cops aren’t a thing in this reality and the only way for them to “destroy” under the law is by obtaining the license. What do you think? I rarely see police officers; all I see are the Mafia and every they suck compared to the Zoldyck's and the Phantom Troupe. Shit, it seems like they’re the police but have twisted motives.

It doesn’t matter if you’re a fictional character or not, first impressions matter and he bombed this one...even for a villain.

But you did this for what?

How can you hypnotize (by using Nen) your own brother into killing another opponent because he doesn’t want to become an emotionless zombie like you? At least, that’s my perception. Telling your brother to run every time he faces an opponent that he knows he cannot win against is the sickest shit I’ve ever seen. I know I’m jumping around but another thought popped into my head. As the seasons go on, Illumi expresses an odd way of loving his younger brother and to him, that means to make him suffer in the same way he had to. It seems like Illumi is jealous of Gon in a way. (I’ve seen clips on YouTube) Killua takes Alluka to the hospital to heal Gon. Illumi has stated several times to Hisoka that Killua was hiding rules from him and that he still wanted to get rid of Alluka. Although it is clearly stated why he wanted Alluka gone, I still think that Illumi was jealous of Gon simply because his younger brother preferred to be with a friend instead of him. This is why he emphasizes “You cannot have friends. Either they will betray you or you’ll betray them.”

As I read and watched as the seasons went on, I noticed something about Illumi and his family. We all know that the children were raised by their parents. Specifically, their dad is a trained assassin. I can’t remember but I think Zeno is their grandfather who is also an assassin.

I view him as a character that has suffered from abuse and trauma in order to mold him into an assassin. He is emotionless, doesn’t really care for others, has an odd relationship with Killua that he doesn’t have for his other siblings, and is a hypocrite. Killua can’t be friends with Gon but every time the show cuts to him, he’s with Hisoka? Something is fishy there. Are they more than friends? OK, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Here's the physical analysis below.

Face

When masquerading as Gittarackur, his face has several pins in them and his hair is in a rock star form of Mohawk that is purple. I’ll give him 10/10 for uniqueness, yet it still reminded me of Hell Raiser.

I’ve noticed that when he is in public he is in costume. Why doesn’t he reveal himself in public? I’ve researched this and no one could answer this question. My guess is that he is a verified hunter and assassin. How can you carry out your missions if everyone knows what you look like? Without the pins in his face, it reverts back to his natural state. To me, his large eyes and long, shiny black hair are his distinguished features. Although he may be my least favorite character, he does have pretty eyes. Haven’t you all heard of “I got lost in his/her eyes”?

Yeah, that can be said about him. Most definitely. He rarely smiles and when he does, something BAD is going to happen. I saw him laugh crazily once Alluka began the healing process, the Nen (I guess) rose from the hospital and got on him. This scene reminds me of how Haggar reacted once the Komar’s quintessence bounced from Voltron and bounced onto her. Wow, these supernatural abilities make y’all feel that good?

Clothes

Gittarackur and Illumi wear the same clothes, which should be a clear giveaway that they are the same. Illumi wears a neural green short jacket that has yellow pins in them, a light green shirt underneath, and green pants. His shoes remind me of loafers with a heel on them, something my grandmother would wear.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say again, these bad-ass men in this show are very stylish and seem to be in shape more than I am. Although Illumi irks me, his fashion is great and this is why people prefer him to be their favorite character. Shows should always produce characters that are memorable; that is the key to a long-lasting fan base.

In conclusion, this anime (for the most part) has well-rounded characters that make the plot interesting and wanting more.

Illumi and Lotor are somewhat similar. They both grew up in abusive households and lost some sense of sensitivity, common sense, and were often “misguided” by their own selfishness. Illumi wants a better life for Killua by constantly brainwashing him into thinking that he cannot have friends and his can only find happiness through killing. Zarkon raises Lotor to be a prince that shouldn't work with planets and should destroy them. This explains why he used deceased Alteans from the colony, drained their quintessence, and didn't give them a proper burial. Lotor IS just like his father but Killua IS NOT like Illumi. Ironic, huh? As we all know by now, Lotor is the son of Honerva (Haggar) and Zarkon. After the rift accident, he became an emotionless, ruthless monster that colonized and destroyed planets just to gain their quintessence. He taught this to his son and once he was old enough to think for himself, he refused to act in such a way. Although he was exiled and said he wasn’t like Zarkon, he was; but worse. Lotor studied and gained knowledge about Altea and its people while using Allura to gain the secrets of Oriande. I say he used her because he knew from the moment he met her that he was harvesting Altean quintessence. While fighting the white lion, he yelled “Victory or Death” which is a common catchphrase the Galra use when they are in battle. In fact, the Galra have been victims of trauma from Zarkon. Zarkon’s ruthless ways of ruling had no other motive except for obtaining quintessence so he could live forever. Silva’s way of raising his children was done to mold them into assassins. Since he was taught this way he did the same thing to his children. Zarkon, Silva, and Zeno think that their ways of parenting are necessary for survive in life when it doesn’t have to be that way. Illumi and Lotor have experienced this horrific parenting and deal with it in different ways. Illumi is oddly obsessive of his younger brother and Lotor is a fucking liar.

This analysis was fun! Next, I’ll be analyzing Killua and Keith Kogane.

If you’d like to see more posts like this, send me an ASK!

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julietnterein · 4 years ago

Text

Bed time story

(n. r. x reader)

Warnings: Angst, mention of abuse, mention of rape

A/U: Hello! This is my very first Natasha Romanoff short story, if you would like me to write your prompt just hit me up! Hope you are going to enjoy this.

A snow was quietly falling on your porch, but that did not bother you at all. You loved the Winter season, you loved the Holidays and so did your small girl.

A small blond girl was putting away her last toy with a huge yawn on her face.

„Alright, dove, it's past your bedtime. Let's get you to bed.” You pick her up as the four year old raises her hands towards you. „You are getting heavier every day, I swear!” You tickle her a little as you are taking her upstairs to her room. She giggles while you are putting her into the bed, tucking her in and then kissing her forehead. You cross the room to put the small light into the socket.

„Wait, mama…” She stops you, knowing very well that light in the socket means sleepy time.

„What is it, dove?” You look at her with a small smile as you cross the room to her bed.

„What about a bedtime story?” She looks at you with large puppy eyes.

„It's already really late, Lia.” You check the clock in the hallway, which is showing something before quarter to ten.

„Pretty pleasee….” She begs you.

You roll your eyes. „Okay, okay...But scooch over, I'm not sitting on the floor this time.” You jump into her bed and let her snuggle up to you. „So which one are we telling today?”

„I want the one about the spy!” She exclaimed excitedly.

„Which one do you mean, dove?” You frown your brows, trying to remember which story it probably was.

„The one that had red hair!” She looks at you, almost hurt by your own words, that you could have forgotten about her favourite bedtime story.

You smile sadly at the small girl and nod. „I remember now.” You make yourself more comfortable in your daughter's bed. And as she snuggle up closer into your arms you are starting with the story, that is about a woman spy that was in love with a normal citizen, but this story has darker corners than you tell your daughter, this story is far far away from a love story and definitely does not end with a happy end like you tell your daughter.

You used to work as a recruit for a S.H.I.E.L.D, not that you were going for missions and stuff, but you were dealing with the important paperwork. So you often did get into contact with the higher level agents and sometimes even with the infamous Natasha Romanoff or Clint Barton. Agent Barton was your favourite kind of agent, he was funny, he always asked how you were doing, he was the exact opposite of Romanoff. You did not take it personally, how could you? She was dealing with danger on a daily basis and you understand the last thing that would have concerned her was how was your day going. But you don't even know when it happened when she was bringing you the folders of reports from her mission with a smug smile on her face and she never forgot to wish you a nice day when she left your office. But it was just that, nothing else.

And when all the shit fell on your head and you were on your lowest point she was actually the one who noticed. She noticed that you were no longer having lunch with your colleagues, that you were no longer wishing everyone to have a great day and giving them the warmest smile. You started to fade.

A huge pile of papers suddenly falls onto your desk with a loud slap. You quickly jump in your seat, looking up at the smile of agent Romanoff, that just got back with her reports from her mission in Europe. There was an ugly bruise on her cheek and a gash wound on her forehead, but she was still smiling down at you, until she noticed how much your hands were shaking. „Oh, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to-...”

„It's alright, it's alright.” You quickly snap out, cutting her off in the middle of her sentence. „Thank you for the reports, agent. I will work it on it later.” You don't even look her in the eyes, as you can feel a stinging tear forming at the corner of your eye, so you turn on your computer, trying to look really busy.

She stays in your office for a bit longer that she should, taking all in your whole body language. She knew something was off, she just couldn't figure out what.

You were so glad when the clocks finally showed four in the afternoon and you had left your office and tried to get home quickly while the sun was still up.

No one knew what happened to you, when you stayed out longer than usual the last time. As you close the door behind yourself, you can feel the panic attack slowly building up, somewhere in your chest as your breath became shorter. You are quickly trying to think of the breath exercise your therapist told you about, but your thoughts are too far away now. There was no turning back this time. That's why you sit down on the floor, in the middle of hallway in your apartment, tears slowly streaming down your face and your breath having trouble producing the oxygen you need.

You were back. It was dark, but you could have seen the street lamps. You were out of breath, you were chased. But you knew you were almost home. It was just one block away, if you were a bit quicker, you could have been alright. But you ran into the trap, he outrun you. You were caught. Trapped like a mouse, unable to do something. He was just stronger and you had to wait, you were ruined. You stayed on the cold ground when he was done, unable to move, tears were streaming down your face, shaking.

There was a ring at your door, but you haven't heard it, because in that moment you are far far away in your thought, living the horrible moment over and over again. But what brought you back to reality was a key in your door, unlocking them. In that moment you were just staring at the door in horror, it had to be him, he came for you again, you thought.

The door slightly opened. „Y/N?” A quiet voice echoed through your apartment.

You were still too paralized to being able to answer, you just stared at the door when she opened them fully. „I found your spare key, I felt like checking up on-... Oh god, Y/N, are you okay?” She rushes right next to you, when she notices your small frame shaking on your own floor. „Did you fell? Are you hurt?” She checks your whole body, but you just shake your head, unable to speak out, because you knew you would start crying if you just try. „Okay, good, good… I'm so sorry that I barged in here like that, but I just felt something was off with you lately…” But she doesn't continue, she can see what state you are in, of course something is off, someone should have checked up on you a long time ago. „What happened?” She whispers into the dark. „Did someone… hurt you?” She asks carefully, but that question just brings more chills into your body and you are bursting out crying, falling into her arms, shaking. She doesn't ask anymore, she just holds you really close, strokes your hair and lets you cry through her shirt. „I've got you now. You are safe.” She repeats quietly over and over, until you don't have any more tears to shed and you have to tell her. So you do. You tell her everything, what he has done to you and that now you are carrying his baby. And she listens, she doesn't interrupt you, she holds your hand when you need her to. And then you cry again, finding more salty fluid in your eyes, that once again soaks her shirt through, until you fall asleep in her arms.

And after that night, she never really left, she was always around, she helped you heal. Even when she was gone on her missions, she made sure you had everything you needed, and as she was here for you, you were here for her, you were there after really bad missions with opened arms and baby bumps to snuggle to. At those nights you were the one who stroked her hair and let her fall asleep in your arms.

But all this got messed up really quickly again, you were almost due, when Thanos and the snap happened. And unfortunately for Natasha, you were snapped away.

And when you came back, everything you knew was gone. Natasha was gone. But this time you had no one's shirt to cry into. This time you were alone.

You had to run, everything around you was just too much, you saw her everywhere. Barton helped you move to Europe, even though you were due in a couple of weeks. He helped with everything, maybe he felt guilty, even though he never really told you what happened to her.

But then you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, and she was no longer something that would remind you of the horrible events, she was just your little baby. And suddenly you weren't alone. And as she cried in your arms you whispered those words to her: „I've got you now. You are safe.”

But this story wasn't for your daughters ears, not yet. She will know one day, but this time the story end well. And you whisper: „And they lived happily ever after.” You look down at the sleeping blond girl. You have to be really careful when you are getting up, trying not to wake her up. Then you tuck her in and kiss her forehead: „Goodnight, my sweet, Natalia.”

#natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #avengers x reader #Scarlett johansson #Scarlett Johansson x reader #y/n #natasha romanoff x y/n

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megumisbimbo · 4 years ago

Text

~ protective ~

akaashi x f!reader

warnings: mentions abuse by ex boyfriend

(ex/n) - ex’s name

“Baby can we get this one instead? The one we have tastes like paper.” Akaashi says holding a value pack of ramen.

“Sure but what are we gonna do with the packets we already have?”

“I don’t know, does our neighbor like ramen?”

You giggle and continue to push your cart down the aisle. You were on your weekly grocery run with your husband, but your eyes were slowly closing. You had a long day and honestly, sleep sounds really good right about now.

“What are we making for dinner tonight?” Akaashi asks, causing you to let out a heavy sigh.

“Maybe just takeout tonight.”

He smiles placing a warm hand on your cheek, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead.

“You tired babe?”

“Mmm it’s been a long day”

“Alright takeout it is. Let me grab the cereal and we’ll leave.”

He leaves you alone in the aisle, promising to be back in a second with your cereal. You mindlessly scroll through your phone awaiting his return. A familiar voice rips through the air and you feel your heart drop. It couldn’t be.

“Hey (y/n)!”

You know that voice all too well. That voice has called you vicious names and made you empty promises. You feel yourself move away slightly as the man approaches you. How did he find you.

“Hey it’s me, (ex/n).”

You stay silent but turn around, looking up into his villainous eyes.

“It’s been a while (y/n), what have you been up to?”

He’s smiling. Why was he smiling? How dare he smile at you, acting as if he didn’t ruin 5 years of your life.

“Nothing.” You say, hoping that your dry answer will drive him away.

“Oh that’s too bad, you know when you were with me we had a lot of fun. Didn’t we?”

That bastard. He ruined you. You thought you could never love again because of him. How dare he even look you in the eye. Your body shook as you begged the universe to bring Akaashi back faster. He leans against the shelves trapping you in between his body and your cart. You back away slowly desperate to keep a good distance between you two. He notices and moves himself closer to you. You feared this man with every fiber of your being. The abuse and torture he put you through replays in your mind, but is soon interrupted by the soothing voice of your husband.

“Uh excuse me, who are you?”

Akaashi asks, knowing full well who he was.

“Just an old friend of (y/n)’s, and you are?”

“I’m her husband.”

He places himself in between you two, towering over and protecting you from your ex’s hungry stare.

“If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to take my wife home. She’s had a long day.”

He turns to you and pushes a piece of your hair behind your ear, mouthing “it’s ok.” You nod and turn towards the cart as Akaashi does the same, placing his hands on top of yours and pushing the cart from behind you. He leans toward your ear and whispers.

“Are you ok?”

“Why did you take so long...”

“I’m sorry my love, I got distracted, and I had no idea that asshole would show his face here, but he’s gone now. I’m here and I’m not leaving you.”

Warm tears fell silently from your eyes. Akaashi noticed and leaned closer to you, placing his chest flush against your back. He lead you to the checkout line and you turned and buried your face in his sweater. He placed sweet kisses on top of your head and quietly shushed you. He rubbed small circles on the small of your back, in hopes of suppressing your anxiety attack. After Akaashi paid and put the groceries in the cart, he gently took your hand and lead you both out of the store. He placed you safely into the passengers seat giving you a reassuring smile that went unnoticed, your thoughts consuming you. Memories of the hell (ex/n) put you through replayed in your mind and your tears started coming out faster than before. You looked down and found your hands shaking more aggressively. You hadn’t been through a panic attack in a while and it happening so suddenly scared you. Akaashi gets into the drivers seat and finds you a shaking mess. He leans over and wraps his arms around you shushing you and stroking your arm as your tears turn into sobs. He knows what you went through and he helped you heal. Seeing (ex/n) talk so casually to you made his blood boil. Akaashi was ready to punch him in the face the moment he saw him. He releases you from his grasp and starts the car. The drive home was silent. His hand rested comfortably on your thigh as his thumb rubbed up and down, gently consoling you. Once home, Akaashi jogs around to your side of the car, opens the door and picks you up. He completely disregards the groceries sitting in the trunk as he carries you inside the house. Immediately, he takes you to your bedroom and sets you on the bed. He lets you lie down and gets ready to leave the room, but you pull his arm back down.

“I’ll bring the groceries in and then I’ll come be with you, ok?”

You reluctantly agree and watch as he leaves you alone with your thoughts once again. A good ten minutes pass and Akaashi walks in with the tub of ice cream you just bought and two spoons. He sets the goods down and changes into his house clothes. He helps you get into yours and sets himself down right next to you. You cuddle into his arm and he hands you a spoon. You two talk and eat the ice cream. Eventually you fall asleep and Akaashi lies next to you, arms protectively draped around you.

“I promise I’ll treat you the way you were meant to be treated my princess. You don’t have to worry about anything ever again. I love you.”

He kisses your cheek, then your forehead, then both eyelids, before following you off into dreamland, promising to cherish every moment he has with you.

a/n: AHHH protective akaashi is too sweet uwu. hope you like this one ! pls make some more requests I love writing them !!

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #domestic haikyuu #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu headcanons #domestic akaashi #akaashi imagine #akaashi x reader #hq akaashi #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi drabble #akaashi x y/n

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janetbrown711 · 4 years ago

Note

"how do you think this ends?"

Despite Lena’s hopes and dreams that when the morning came everything would feel as right in the world as it had when the little family had fallen asleep, it wasn’t true. When she awoke (for whatever reason, she was the first), she walked out of the room and was immediately surrounded by maids and servants pestering her with their endless questions. Of course, she knew why they were asking, she was supposed to be dead.

She did her best to explain the situation and told them that her mother had died in an avalanche at Acme Falls. This, however, made the situation worse, as then officials and advisors soon got word and started to try and plan things out with her, and Lena wanted none of it. It was early- hell, she was still in her nightgown and robe. She just wanted to take an early stroll around her home, but nope.

Then again, what did she expect? Come back from the dead and people are going to have questions.

Still. Being swarmed with questions and having plans and ideas thrown in her face that early was too much. She yearned to return to bed, but by the time she successfully convinced them to stop, it was likely too late.

So instead, she went to the kitchen and began to chop up some fruit, a skill she had gotten quite good at over the past year. She couldn’t do a lot, so she liked to help Helloise and Doctor Scratchnsniff prepare food, usually while they talked about things. Now all Lena could think of as she chopped was that of her offer.

She had written a letter last night asking for their assistance. In all honesty, she was ashamed. She thought returning home would do a lot to heal everything they went through over the past year, but Dot’s nightmare quickly told her otherwise. Because of her nativity, she had to write a letter offering and asking them to come to the palace to be the royal psychologist and counselor not just for Dot, but likely Wakko and perhaps even Yakko too. Goodness knows all of her kids must’ve been through hell under the care of her mother.

Lena paused and placed a hand on her cheek. She sighed.

Lena continued cutting fruit.

She hoped they were hungry- she was making a lot- goodness.

Well- she knew Wakko would be anyway. Her poor boy... he was so light to carry. Angelina must’ve locked him in the tower before the Wishing Star, and probably didn’t feed him.

Her mother deserved far, far worse than death.

But it was what needed to be done. She didn’t regret it. Not one bit.

Hopefully, they’d use all this food for the picnic they’d be having-

It was still winter. Snow was outside. They couldn’t have a picnic.

No. They’d just have one inside. It’s what Wakko wanted- who was she to take that away from him?

She continued to cut, despite realizing she lost count of how many kiwis, strawberries, and star fruit she had sliced by now.

“Mom?” Wakko came out of nowhere, startling Lena and she cut her finger.

“Gah- Jesus Wakko, you can’t sneak up on me like that,” She quickly began to suck on it and look for a towel.

Wakko froze, dead in his tracks.

“I-i’m sorry, I-i didn’t mean to- I-i-” He stumbled over his apology.

“It’s alright, Wakko, I’m not-” But by the time Lena said that, he had run out of the kitchen.

“Dammit, Lena, now look at what you’ve done,” She muttered to herself, wrapping a rag around her finger and running off to go find Wakko.

Day one and she was already screwing up.

“Wakko? Where are you?” She called, looking under hall decor, behind curtains, and in almost every room she walked by.

“Wakko, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that,” She said, hearing sniffles come out of one bedroom. Lena knocked on the door softly.

“Wakko?” She said.

“I-i said I’m sorry, go away!” He shouted back.

“Wakko, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, it was I who snapped at you,” She placed her hand that didn’t have a towel around it against the door.

“Go away! I only get people hurt,” He cried more.

“Wakko honey, no,” Lena wanted to go in, but the door was locked.

“Wakko, whatever your grandmother told you, she was wrong. You’re such a wonderful kid- energetic, compassionate, brave, and you give the best hugs,” She countered his statement. The prince paused.

“B-but it’s my fault D-dot died... they were aiming for me,” He countered, his words becoming mumbled.

“Wakko, it’s nobody’s fault but your grandmother and she’s already paid the price,” She said.

“She can’t hurt you anymore... so please... come out? I promise I’m okay.”

Wakko was quiet. Lena bit her lip.

“If you come out you can have a snack in the kitchen,” She said. Wakko must’ve responded positively to that because before she knew it there were shuffling noises, and he opened the door, though unable to make eye contact with his mother.

“I’m hungry,” he said.

“I know honey, let’s get you some food and water- I bet you’re dehydrated too, especially after all that crying,” Lena said, offering her hand. Wakko took it.

“Yeah,” was all he said. Lena gave his hand a comforting squeeze as they made their way back. Once there, she lifted him on the counter and started slicing more fruit, everything from apples to bananas, and handing them to him once finished. He ate slowly, but it seemed to be doing him a lot of good, as his mood increased dramatically once he got some food in his system.

“You feeling better?” She asked him. Wakko nodded. “Good,” Lena smiled and ruffled his fur a little. Lena always found it funny how he often liked to sleep with his red hat on, but who was she to judge.

“Now honey, I want to make things very clear with you: everything your grandmother ever told you or made you feel is false okay? I don’t want you saying it, I don’t want you thinking it. You are so much more than she ever thought, understood?” She placed her hand on his cheek, stroking his face with her thumb. Wakko leaned into it, nodding.

“Okay,” he agreed. Lena smiled softly.

“It’s not gonna be easy to undo what she’s done... but we’re going to figure it out together, understood?” She said. Wakko nodded again, eating an apple slice.

“I haven’t told your siblings yet, but in roughly a week's time, the good doctor from Acme Falls is going to start working at the palace to help you three heal from the abuse my mother put you through. He’s an emotions doctor and he’ll help you feel better, does that sound like something you want?” She said, going back to cutting fruit.

“Okay,” Wakko nodded, his tail twitching curiously. “What about you?” he asked.

Lena paused. “What about me?”

“Will he be helping you?” Wakko asked innocently. Lena looked down at her hands, then at the 20 or so fruits she sliced this morning.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I’m going to have a lot more responsibilities than what I’m used to in the upcoming days- I’ll likely be too busy.”

“But you should be okay too,” Wakko frowned, reminding Lena of how observant he could be.

“I’ll be okay Wakko- I promise,” She looked at him. He scanned her face a minute before either believing it or just dropping it and going back to his apple slices.

After a moment of more slicing and handing to Wakko, Lena spoke again.

“We’re going to be having a picnic today, just like you wanted,” She said. Wakko’s face lit up.

“Really?! Isn’t it snowy?” Wakko tilted his head.

“We’ll be having it inside, but I think that hardly makes a difference. What do you think?” Lena asked him.

“Okay,” he gave a toothy grin.

“Good,” Lena nodded. “How about you go and get dressed and get your siblings ready so we can do that soon, hm?”

“Okay,” He said, jumping off the countertop, and scurrying out of the kitchen.

Good. At least he was somewhat back to his old self. That meant there was hope after all. He was still a kid- he deserved to be happy and young while he could.

With a sigh, Lena began to get bags out and put the sliced fruit into separate bags as kitchen workers started to come in and began preparing their breakfast. Once Lena finished, she quickly apologized and got out of their way, explaining what was going to happen later with the picnic and all. They understood, and she left.

Now she was on her own again. And still in her nightgown- Lena really needed to get changed. Quickly she went back to her room and went to her closet to get dressed but her fingers hovered over her dresses. It had been so long since she wore something so fancy... Would it even feel right anymore?

Of course it would, she was born a princess, she was just being ridiculous... right?

Lena sighed and changed into her usual purple dress.

Today was going to be interesting.

.o0o.

And interesting it was. Home for less than 24 hours and already advisors and courtiers were already throwing piles upon piles of papers onto the poor queen-to-be. After signing about fifty billion documents, she finally got them to leave her alone, stating she made plans with her family she fully intended to keep. Thankfully, since she was in charge, nobody argued otherwise, though she knew they were likely doubtful. She did her best not to dwell.

By the time she did finally join her family in the room they were having their picnic, Wakko and Dot were already finished with their food and running around chasing each other, nearly running into Lena as she stepped in, though they both paused to give her a hug before running off again.

“My, they’re energetic today,” Lena chuckled as she joined her husband and Yakko on the pillows.

“Last night was probably the best sleep they’ve gotten in a while, nightmare or not,” Yakko shrugged, eating a piece of bread.

“I don’t doubt that... I slept pretty well last night too,” William said mostly to himself, looking at Wakko and Dot fondly.

“It really has been a year, hasn’t it?” Lena looked at Yakko, sadness in her eyes. “We’ve missed so much...”

“Not a whole lot... I mean- there were birthdays and stuff, but not... well...” Yakko was reluctant to finish the sentence, but Lena understood perfectly.

“Not much good, no?” Lena sighed. “I’ll never forgive her for this... for any of this.”

William and Yakko nodded supportively.

“But... Dot’s birthday was nice. I even managed to sneak a cake, and we all had a big sleepover, which was fun,” Yakko said. Lena smiled a little.

“That sounds lovely,” She said, sipping some tea.

“It was,” Yakko smiled at the memory.

“Oh! And we continued teaching Wakko to read,” Yakko remembered to tell.

“Really? Oh, that makes me so happy Yakko,” Lena side hugged him.

“We were so worried that Angelina wouldn’t let him and he’d forget,” William admitted.

“We had to do it behind her back, but I definitely think we made progress,” Yakko smiled, proud of himself, and rightfully so.

“I’m absolutely thrilled to hear it. You did a very good job taking care of your siblings in our absence Yakko, I’m very proud of you,” She kissed the top of his head.

“Thanks, mom,” Yakko teared up a little, and he quickly wiped it away. Lena didn’t comment, smiling softly.

“I’ll never forgive her for this.” The thought repeated in her mind. Anger returned.

“So, what took you so long?” Yakko asked.

“Paperwork. I’ve a coronation to set up by the end of the week after all,” She tried to laugh at the dread facing her.

“What about Grandma’s funeral?” Yakko asked.

“She isn’t going to be getting a funeral,” Lena said.

William blinked. “Are you sure that’s best?”

“Doesn’t every royal get a funeral? I mean- she even held one for you two...” Yakko said quietly.

“It’s unprecedented yes, and will perhaps even look bad to the people. However, once we explain everything that happened, I’m sure the people will be more than happy and most importantly on our side,” Lena sipped her tea.

“I guess that makes sense,” Yakko shrugged a little. William sighed.

“Lena darling, I know it must be difficult, but she was the queen after all-”

“She committed treason on the highest offense, William.” Lena snapped.

“I know, but well- hasn’t she already paid the price?” He said in a hushed tone, even though Yakko was still right there.

“It’s not that I think she deserves one, Lena. I’m just concerned that the people won’t understand and that it’ll cause them to turn against you,” He clarified softly, touching her arm. Lena swiped it away.

“I know full well what I’ve done,” She stated sharply. “And I don’t regret it. Let the people be upset if they will, they’ll get over it.”

Wakko and Dot stopped running by then, now looking at their parents, confused.

“Lena, darling, perhaps we should take this outside,” William sighed. Lena looked at her children before sighing and nodding.

“We’ll be back shortly... carry on until we get back,” Lena said, placing a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze before standing up and going. William followed in suit.

William stood by the door a moment, making sure they weren’t listening in. Lena paced across the hall, holding her arms.

“Well?” Lena asked him.

“Well, what?” William questioned her harshness.

“Well, what’ve you to say? You asked us to leave the room and we’ve left, so what’ve you to say?” She asked, digging her fingers into her arms.

“Lena darling... I just thought perhaps it wasn’t best to discuss such matters in front of the children,” William said softly. That didn’t make Lena feel any better.

“William, I’m tired of pretending I care about her,” Lena looked out a window. “I don’t want to waste a year of my life wearing all black and veiling myself pretending to weep over what I’ve lost. I can’t even fathom pretending to care a day,” She admitted.

“Of course,” He nodded slowly. The queen-to-be glanced at him.

“You aren’t going to argue otherwise?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Lena darling, I love you with all that I am. I trust your judgment. I’m simply trying to look out for you, that’s all,” William went to her.

“I love you too William,” She said. “I just... I know what I’ve done. I don’t regret it.”

“My dear... you keep saying that,” He took her hand and kissed it.

“It remains true,” Lena took a step away.

“Lena, who are you trying to convince?” He asked honestly.

“I... nobody,” She said quickly.

“Lena-”

“Nobody, William,” She closed her eyes and turned away from him.

She didn’t regret it. Her mother had to die, and by her hand.

There was no other way.

“There was no other way,” She said aloud.

“My love, you’re trembling,” William worried.

“She didn’t love me. She never did- even as a child. She shouted, she pulled the flowers out of my hair, she grabbed me, she blamed me for Father’s death, she... she hurt Wakko, she locked him up like some animal and then she... she killed Dot. She had to die, William,” She still didn’t look at him.

“I know darling...” He approached her slowly.

“A-and even if she had loved me at one point... if she brushed my hair, or sat with me in portraits, or picked out a dress she saw me admiring, it doesn’t matter. She killed our baby girl... she had to die,” Lena looked him in the eyes, though the sympathy was almost too much for her.

“My love, I know... What you did was incredibly difficult,” William said, wiping a stray tear from her face.

“Why though? Why was it difficult? After all that she did to our children, it should’ve been easy,” Lena argued.

“Lena, I do not know,” He sighed, stroking her face with his hand softly. “I’m not a psychologist or anything of the like... but I assume it’s because- well... she was your mother.”

“Hardly...” Lena muttered to herself.

“Despite everything, she still was. You can’t deny that,” He said. “And despite everything, you’ve always been slow to retaliation, so of course it’s taking a while to process what you’ve done.”

“I thought you said you weren’t a psychologist,” Lena joked a little. William chuckled a little.

“I’m not dear... though perhaps you really should take up Scratchnsniff’s offer,” William said.

“I wrote for him last night. He’ll do the children lots of good,” She said.

“That’s not what I meant,” William gave her a look.

Lena paused, sincerely thinking about it.

“I’ll be woefully busy... I’ll hardly have the time,” Lena said.

“We’ll make the time,” He countered.

“William- I just... I don’t know...” She turned away.

“Lena... please? I worry about you,” William held one of her hands in his and gave it a squeeze. Lena said nothing.

“My dear, you deserve to be at peace. Ever since I met you you were burdened by your mother’s actions, and now that she’s gone, you can finally find peace,” He said with a small smile. She could hardly look at him now.

She was an adult. Almost queen. She should be able to handle this on her own.

“If not for yourself, then can you at least do it for them? For...me?” He pleaded quietly.

Lena looked at the door a long moment, practically seeing her children leaning up against it (which she knew they likely were).

“William I don’t know if I can find peace...” She whispered.

“Can’t we at least give it a try, my love?” He whispered back. She looked at him. His eyes... those warm, dark, familiar eyes had brought her so much love and comfort over the years. So much love and worry...

Lena knew she’d do anything for him.

“I can try,” She nodded slowly.

“Really?” He smiled a little.

“I’d walk through hell and back for you, my love,” Lena placed a soft hand on his cheek. “I think I’ll be able to believe in myself a little for you too.”

“Thank you,” He kissed her wrist before pulling her in for an actual kiss, which she gladly returned.

However, the kiss didn’t last too long before a chorus of voices behind the door grew louder and before they knew it, the door opened, Yakko, Wakko, and Dot spilling out with it.

“Darn it Dot- you got us caught,” Yakko shook his head.

“Haha... hi,” Dot sheeped. Lena rolled her eyes.

“Mind telling me why you were listening in to what was supposed to be a private, adult conversation?” She teased, helping them up and off each other.

“Uh... curiosity?” Wakko shrugged. Lena laughed.

“Can’t deny that I suppose,” She ruffled his fur. Wakko smiled up at her with his tongue sticking out. She missed that smile.

“Well... the day isn’t over yet... what do you three want to do?” She asked.

“Can we hear a story?” Dot perked up and asked.

“Yeah! A story!” Wakko agreed. Yakko snorted, giving his silent agreement.

“It’s nowhere near bedtime,” William said. “What are we going to do then?”

“We can handle two stories,” Dot rolled her eyes. William chuckled.

“That you can... that you can,” He said, stroking his mustache.

“How about this: I’ll tell you a bedtime story if you’ll help me out with this one, hm?” He offered, winking at Lena to boast his cleverness. Lena rolled her eyes.

“Okay!” The younger warner siblings said in agreement.

“But first we have to clean all this up- can’t be leaving everything out like this,” Lena remarked, going back into their picnic room. Quickly, the children ran in and began picking up any toys they had brought in, folding blankets, and putting back pillows where they belonged, while Lena and William dealt with the food.

“Quite the plethora of fruit you prepared for us this morning,” Willaim commented as he cleaned.

“I do it when I’m stressed,” She shrugged. “You know this- you were there.”

“I know,” he teased. “They were very good.”

“I didn’t grow them,” Lena rolled her eyes, teasing him right back.

“It’s our garden. I think we ought to have some claim,” He shrugged. Lena rolled her eyes again.

“You say that like we don’t get most of our fruits from the farms-”

“Actually, we get our apples and citrus from the farms. The starfruit and berries were from the garden,” Yakko snuck up from behind, folding a blanket.

“Who’s side are you on?” Lena gave him a look. Yakko laughed.

“Checkmate,” William grinned.

“I hate you,” She snorted, putting the bread into a bag as Yakko disappeared to put the blanket away.

“You love me,” William elbowed her lightly. Lena chuckled and continued to clean without comment. However, a thought slowly dawned on her and she paused.

“Lena..?” William noticed.

“Sorry, I’m just... thinking,” She shook her head and continued.

“Thinking of what?” He asked.

Lena thought about how best to say it.

“I suppose... well... I don’t know. I just-... Do you really believe any of this will ever truly be over?” Lena asked him.

William sighed. “I really hope so... it may not be today, or tomorrow, or even the day after, but in my heart I know one day we’ll finally be truly happy and free from her and her effects.”

“What do you think it’ll be like when that comes?” She asked him. William smiled.

“Well... I imagine there’ll be dancing under a sky full of stars. Music playing softly in the other room, while we just have all the time in the world to ourselves, knowing Yakko, Wakko and Dot are safely tucked to sleep- or even if they aren’t we know they’re safe. They know they’re loved, we know we’re loved, you know you’re loved,” He said, a far-off look on his face indicating he had given this thought before. Lena smiled.

“Dancing under the stars... I’ve missed that,” She agreed with him.

“Perhaps we’ll even go to the garden. We’ll sit on our bench by the fountain where I first proposed to you and we’ll just sit and reflect on the good times we shared, and the good times yet to come. It won’t be the end, after all. There’ll still be a lifetime ahead of us,” He said. Lena closed her eyes, envisioning it.

“That sounds lovely,” She smiled and opened her eyes.

“One day,” He said with a wink.

“We’re doneeee, can you tell us the story now?” Dot ran up to them, grabbing William’s leg. He laughed.

“Alright, c’mon,” He said, peeling Dot from his leg and picking her up instead. Wakko went to Lena and held her hand. She gave it a comforting squeeze, not that either was nervous. Yakko walked on her other side.

Together, the family all went back to the familiar playroom and settled in for storytime with Dad.

Effortlessly he weaved a tale about a beautiful princess, a handsome knight, and a fearsome dragon. Had it been done before? Of course, but it was the audience’s choice and they missed the cliché. He spoke of everlasting love, the princess and the knight saving each other numerous times, and eventually how they lived happily ever after and created a land of prosperity, peace, and love- unlike the age of the Dragon. It didn’t take a genius to figure out his inspiration for such a tale, but it was interesting and exciting nonetheless.

After that, Lena and William played with Yakko, Wakko, and Dot with their dolls, playing a game similar to the story, but with its own twists (like the Princess being fire breathing and could transform into a giant lion and the knight was secretly the God of Thunder) until it was eventually time for diner.

After that, William read them a bedtime story, this time of a lonely siren and a sailor who nearly drowned, which captivated Wakko and Dot easily, though Yakko was tired, and barely awake by the end. Then, they checked for monsters for Dot (a new concern of hers), after which Lena sang them their lullaby and they all went to sleep.

And so several days passed in such a way. Lena would spend her mornings over paperwork and giving signatures and statements and writing to other kingdoms in preparation for her coordination while William watched the kids, and in the afternoon she’d join them for lunch and for some quality family time until it was eventually time to sleep and the cycle would start over. As much as she hated the paperwork portion of her days, she couldn’t deny the quality time made up for it. Seeing her children slowly regain their spirit filled her with more happiness than she could ever describe, especially with the help of Doctor Scratchnsniff.

Ah, yes. Doctor Scratchnsniff. At first, the children were hesitant to meet with him, but after Lena and William offered to sit in with them for their appointments (for the first one, at least) they agreed.

Dot seemed to be liking him, though she found him and his accent strange at first. However, the doctor reported she was already off to a good start and even after meeting twice he said she was making good progress. That was good to hear at least. The sooner her PTSD was gone, the better.

It was evident Yakko liked him less so, but Lena and William weren’t surprised by that. His issues were with being fiercely independent and untrusting so naturally, it was going to take a while for him to open up, which they were okay with. They had all the time in the world now.

Wakko, however, never wanted to be alone with him. He always had Lena sit with him through his appointments, either clinging to her arm, or sitting in her lap the whole time as she stroked his ears or rubbed his back soothingly. He hardly spoke a word at first, which was expected, but the doctor didn’t seem to mind. Hopefully, progress would be made with time.

Lena eventually found time to make an appointment of her own. It felt... odd, to say the least. She was used to the loving and kind support from William, but opening up to Scratchy was a different feeling entirely. She didn’t have to fear what he thought, as he was trained to listen and help. She liked that.

What she liked less was reflecting on her childhood. So many feelings and emotions and twisted memories she didn’t know how to look back on. He said this was natural for victims of childhood neglect and abuse, and she couldn’t deny that.

However, she was processing now. Moving on, as he described it. Acknowledging what happened was the first step, moving on was the next. It was... interesting. Then again, these were only the beginning steps. She still had lots and lots of work to do, but she had all the time in the world.

The days passed in such a sequence, that the day of her coordination threw her off guard. Heck- she had hardly noticed that when she had awakened, maids and dressers were immediately there to get her in the gorgeous cerulean blue, and gold dress they had made for her. It wasn’t until they were trying to comb through her hair she realized the day was special. Sure- she wasn’t normally dressed by handmaidens, but in all fairness, she had just woken up.

Oh god- it was finally happening. Important guests from kingdoms all over were going to arrive to watch her rise to the throne and accept her fate and destiny as the next queen of Warnerstock.

Hell- it felt like Lena blinked and suddenly she was waiting for the doors to open so she could walk down and accept the crown and say the lines and well- get coronated as Queen. She was wearing the nicest gown she’d ever worn in her life, and her ears were unbound, as she was no longer wearing her princess crown anymore.

“You ready Mom?” Yakko asked, adjusting his fancy little outfit. Lena thought he as well as the rest of the kids looked adorable, though it was clear he was rather uncomfortable with the lapels and sash. Still- that didn’t stop Lena from wishing she could get a portrait of him done.

“Hopefully,” Lena laughed through her nervousness.

“You’ll be great, I know it,” Wakko grinned up at her. Lena smiled at him, before noticing his sash was on the wrong shoulder and she fixed it.

“Yeah! You’re super nice and pretty and you’ll be a great queen,” Dot encouraged.

“You’re too sweet, darling,” She thanked her before standing.

“You’ve nothing to worry about, my love,” William placed his hands on her shoulders. “We have your back, it’ll be okay.”

“I’m the luckiest queen-to-be in the world,” Lena chuckled.

“Yep!” Wakko agreed.

“Your highness? They’re ready for you,” said one of the officials. Lena took in a deep breath and nodded.

“Well... let’s go,” She gave them a nod. Her family gave her quick grins and thumbs up, before the door opened, and the ceremony officially began.

The ceremony went perfectly as planned. Not a word nor person was out of place. She recited the vow of protection and service perfectly, didn’t flinch when the cold metal of her new crown touched her head, and even managed not to flinch at the mention of her full name (though she could still feel the internal dread of it). She recited her speech to the people perfectly, gaining their understanding and support with her carefully crafted yet heartfelt words, and eventually, the ceremonies were over and the festivities began.

Quickly, the children ran into the outdoor courtyard with many of the other royal children from nearby kingdoms, and music began to play. However, this wasn’t the stuffy, snooty music her mother would’ve chosen for her coordination, no. This was Lena, and she chose something exciting. A new beginning. Songs that make you kick off your shoes (if you wore those) and dance in circles until you pass out from exhaustion you didn’t know you had because you were too busy being swept away by the fun of it all. Lena danced with her new subjects and partners in foreign policy all day, and even a bit of the night as the sun eventually went down, only stopping when the feast began, or the band needed a break, but then returning right away.

She hadn’t felt this alive in years, and Lena was determined to never let it go. This was what freedom was. This was what life without her mother’s control could be, every day. People laughing, cheering, celebrating, being together and safe and happy.

People were happy.

Lena was happy.

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot were happy too, even mingling with children from neighboring kingdoms, with Yakko even finding himself fascinated with a certain dog prince that she and William gave a quick thumbs up to, embarrassing him deeply. Eh, he’d get over it. They were back, and that meant embarrassing him to his crushes- even if he just met them that night.

Wakko and Dot were having fun dancing, and drawing chalk on the ground. Wakko proved himself to be quite the artist, as while he danced he dragged and drew with his tail, and before anyone knew it the whole floor was a Wakko art piece. Sure, it may have stained their feet, but it was truly something to behold. Dot, on the other hand, was chatting with other princesses and citizens, charming them with her classic wit and cuteness that made Lena proud.

And William? For the first time in what felt like forever, he seemed to be enjoying himself too, the worry that was constantly behind those deep, dark eyes she loved so dearly being practically gone. Instead, joy and excitement, as well as love was shining back, as he spun and lifted and danced alongside her to the exciting music of the band. The couple had never felt so alive and free.

Eventually, though, all good things come to an end, and guests slowly began to leave, saying their quick goodbyes to the new Queen, wishing her luck, and promising their loyalties and hopes for the future. It saddened to see things coming to an end, but eventually, the band began to play much slower, softer music, and William took her hand in his and they slowly began to sway under the starlight.

“I told you you had nothing to worry about,” William smirked.

“I know, you’re always right, blah blah blah,” Lena snickered.

William laughed. “I’m serious though, I’m extremely proud of you. You’ve come a very long way for it being less than a month since returning.”

“And here I thought it was already a year,” Lena joked, referring more to the neverending piles of paperwork she managed to go through in such a short time than her time with her loved ones.

“Lena, I mean it. I’m incredibly proud of you,” William made sure she knew it.

“Thank you, dear,” Lena kissed him. “I couldn’t have done this- any of this without you.”

“I know,” He said with a small smile. Lena snorted a little, before stepping closer and leaning against him as they swayed together.

“How’s this for a perfect ending, hm?” he asked.

Lena thought about that, looking around the more than half-empty courtyard.

Wakko was curled up into a ball on a pile of pillows nearby a firepit, looking perfectly warn out and warm. Dot was drawing with chalk next to him, looking half asleep as well. Yakko was telling a story to his new friend, though it was very clear that friend was going to have to leave soon, but whoever was in charge of the boy clearly didn’t have the heart to break the two up, which Lena couldn’t say she blamed them for. They were cute. Kids- but cute.

Then she looked back at William. The love of her life. The man who never once left her side and carried her through the worst moments of their lives, and somehow made it out alive. She kissed him again.

“It’s not completely perfect... but it’s a damn good start,” Lena smiled.

“A damn good start indeed,” William grinned.

And it was a damn good start. After all, Queen Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Second was married to Sir William the Good, and had three beautiful children she loved more than anything in the world. Her mother was dead, and couldn’t hurt any of them anymore. There were no more secrets, no more lies, and no more abuse.

Together, the Warners were entering a new era; an era of peace, of love, of great healing, and great togetherness. After all- the old queen was dead, proving once and for all that nothing could or ever would keep them apart for long.

They were together now, and together the Warner Family was unstoppable.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 The End

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lucky-aspen · 4 years ago

Text

Guardian Angel

TW: talk about abuse / panic attack

@tiamat-zx @zearbearz I’m sorry this took so long. I hope you enjoy.

It had been an hour or so since both Jester and Beau had fallen asleep but Yasha had found herself wide awake. Her attention was drawn to the window of the tavern room they were staying in. Yasha once again volunteered to take the floor but now she was sitting on the windowsill, watching the outside world. She hadn’t bothered trying to sleep. Not yet at least, she preferred it this way. To make sure the others found sleep before her. In some sort of way she felt as if she was protecting them, keeping watch as their protective angel, even if she knew nothing would happen.

It was like this most nights. Stay up until everyone had fallen sleep before finding sleep herself. The moonlight lit up the room just slightly so she was able to make out most of the room in color with the help of her dark vision making everything clearer. The room didn’t have much, two beds and a night stand between the two of them where an unlit candle sat. Their belongings scattered across the floor in a way to have a much more comfortable sleep than wearing all their gear.

Yasha had sat her two swords to the side, both resting in the corner of the room, along with her bag she carried. She didn’t have much on her to begin with so her stuff didn’t take up too much space. Her long cloak she had on was used as a blanket of sorts in case she got cold. Luckily that wasn’t the case but it was more of a comfort at this point to wear it. She knew by this point nothing would happen, at least she hoped. She could feel sleep creeping it’s way to her. The way her head kept nodding off as her eyes began to close but only to suddenly snap her head back up, her eyes wide open once more. This went on for a few minutes and whenever she thought she couldn’t last any longer she was scared awake by a sudden movement.

Jumping she looked over to the bed closest to the door. Beau had sat up quickly, her chest going up in down quickly, breathing heavily as if she had been racing for hours. Sweat could be seen along her brow and the back of her neck. Strains of her, usually pulled up hair, rested against the frame of her face. Her eyes red and puffy, a sharp contrast from the blue iris’ she had. Her cheeks were wet with tears. The panic in her face was clear and Yasha was now wide awake. The heavy breathing didn’t seem to slow down and the panic was still rising from the human monk.

Yasha was swift to her feet. Her boots were heavy against the wood of the floor. Going to Beau’s bed side she sat down on the edge of it, “Beau!” She said placing a hand on Beau’s knee that was hidden underneath the blanket.

The panic that Beau held didn’t subside and clearly the touch didn’t help as she tried to kick away Yasha’s touch. Pulling away quickly she watched as Beau pressed herself against the head of the bed, “please don’t!” She stuttered out holding up a hand in some sort of way to protect herself. Her voice was raspy and held fear in it. Nothing like Yasha had heard before. Inside it broke Yasha and part of her held a fear of not knowing what to do.

Beau’s eyes were glassed over in a way that made her look right through Yasha and clearly whatever dream she had been having set her into a panic. She didn’t know what was real and what was not. Yasha didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have calm emotion like Caduceus but he wasn’t in their room and Jester was surprisingly still asleep. Bringing her hand up to Beau’s cheek she went to flinch away, her body tensing, her eyes closed tightly as if she was preparing for an ongoing attack.

Yasha’s touch was gentle and after a few seconds a soft light glow made itself known in the dark area around them. Yasha had no idea if this would work. She knew she could heal wounds but that was about it and Beau had no physical wounds. After a few seconds the panic Beau had slowly disappeared, the warmth of the healing was welcoming and familiar to her. It was a reminder on where she was.

What she was greeted with was different colored eyes looking back into her own blue ones. Worry was written all over Yasha’s face, something that was strange for a women who showed little emotion a lot of the time. The warmth of Yasha’s healing brought Beau back to the present day and she found her breath slowing down as she calmed. Reaching up she placed a hand on top of aasimar’s own hand.

“Yasha?” She spoke in a raspy voice. Her throat felt like it was on fire and each time she swallowed heavily it felt like sandpaper. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she took in the area around her. It had only been a dream. Thank the gods that it was but fear began to rise in her chest. Did she do anything? Did she say anything?

“Are you okay?” Yasha asked in a whisper.

Beau studied the features of Yasha’s face. She had no idea what time of the night it was but it was clear that the taller women hadn’t gone to bed yet. She was able to see the silhouette of Jester, still asleep in the bed next to her own. What had Yasha been doing up?

“Yeah, yeah. Totally fine. Just a bad dream I guess?”

“Just a bad dream? You were panicking really bad just a second ago. Would you like to talk about it?”

The concern never left Yasha’s eyes, her hand rested on Beauregard’s cheek. It grounded the brown haired women. A reassurance she wasn’t alone right now. She wasn’t at her home back in Kamordah. She was no where near her father. He couldn’t do anything but she could feel the shadow of his hand print on the cheek opposite of Yasha’s own hand, lingering there from the dream. It was less of a dream and event that plagued her mind. It was something she wished she could forget, or at least not fear for. It was something that already happened to her so why did it affect her so bad?

She hated that part of her. She was here now and with her new family who cared for her unlike her blood related one. He was something she shouldn’t fear but she did.

“It was about the night I left to go to the Cobalt Soul.”

Beau didn’t have to go into detail for Yasha to know what the dream had fully been about. What was troubling the human so much at this moment. It was strange seeing Beauregard so vulnerable. It had only happened a handful of time whenever Yasha was around. She knew how Beau tried to act all tough all the time, someone who seemed unbreakable but in reality that was the opposite and Yasha adored Beau’s emotions. Before Yasha could say anything Beau spoke once more.

“Did I say anything bad? Did I do anything?”

“Besides being scared and ‘please don’t’, there wasn’t much.”

“Shit- I’m sorry Yasha.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about Beauregard, you were having a bad dream. It’s understandable how you reacted.”

There was nothing for her to be sorry about but deep down in some way she was. She felt like if she had disturbed any peace Yasha was having. Her mind was scrambled. Thoughts over lapping the other and each time she blink she could for just a second see the dream she had seconds ago; she hated it. Pulling her hand away from Yasha’s own, the aasimar lingered for a few seconds before doing the same. The warmth of her touch was now gone and Beau could feel herself already regretting that decision. She felt the headache making itself known as she brought her hands up and palmed at her closed eyes.

“Have you ever had a bad dream?” The question was sudden and she could see Yasha was clearly thrown off by it as she looked up at her.

“I have, they’re not fun.”

“Tell me about it. Do you think they ever stop?”

Yasha looked at Beau, confusion rested all over her face. Yasha was more evident about her confusion but deep in Beau’s eyes that same confusion sat there. Someone who could research all the answers, one of the smartest members of the Mighty Nein was lost, just as lost as Yasha was.

“I don’t know. I think so. They become less over time but I don’t think they’ll ever just got away.”

Beau groaned in response, clearly not the answer she was hoping for.

“You know he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I know that!” She said a little too loud before lowering her voice once more, “that’s why I want it to stop. I feel like a coward.”

Yasha could feel the pain in her chest. How Beau felt so negatively about herself. She was the opposite and as thoughts came to her mind to tell her that they became a jumbled mess. Letting out a sigh she spoke from her heart instead.

“You’re far from a coward Beau. You’re so strong. You faced your demons head on. That is something that I don’t think I could ever do. You’re so wonderfully and I and the rest of the Mighty Nein can see that.”

Swallowing heavily once more she gave a small genuine smile, “thank you Yasha, but you’re pretty strong too.”

Giving a nod in reply Yasha spoke, “maybe writing it down can help.”

Beau could feel her brow furrowed in confusion. A blush of embarrassment was the reply the monk got from Yasha as she averted her gaze.

“That was a stupid idea. I just thought you know, I sometimes have trouble with my feelings and I write stuff like that down. Help me clear my mind.”

Beau was quick to connect the dots as she eyes widen in response.

“That’s a great idea Yasha. That’s not stupid at all. I’ll be sure to do that tomorrow.”

Turning back Yasha gave a nod once again.

“What are you guys doing up? It’s the middle of the night you know, is everything alright?” Came a tired voice. Both women turned their heads quickly to the source of the voice. Blue hair a mess; Jester rubbed at her eyes to clear the fuzzy vision she had as she yawned.

“Everything is fine Jess.” Beau replied as Yasha stood from the bed she sat on. Beau had to stop herself from reaching out for Yasha to ask her to stay. To be a anchor in the waves of emotion the monk had been feeling.

Blinking Jester’s eyes went back and forth between Yasha who was now standing at her full height and Beau who had puffy eyes, clearly from crying in her sleep, “what happened?” Worried rested in Jester’s eyes as she looked at Beau.

“I just had a bad dream is all, Yasha helped.”

Yasha didn’t say a word as she made her way back to the windowsill. Sitting down she rested her back against the frame as she crossed her arms over her chest, watching the two women, “We were just about to go to bed.”

Jester glanced over at Yasha then brought her full attention back to Beau, “do you want to talk about?”

“I can tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you awake, like I said Yasha helped. I think I should be okay.”

“You sure?”

“One-hundred percent. Thanks Jester.”

With an unsure look from Jester she sighed, “fine, but don’t think you can get away tomorrow without telling me. Goodnight Beau, goodnight Yasha, both of you get some sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow.” She yawned at the end.

“Of course.” Yasha said in response as she watched Jester lay back down to sleep.

“Hey Yasha.” Looking over she was meant with the blue eyes of Beauregard, “thank you. I appreciate it a lot.”

With a small smile tugging at the corner of her lip she spoke in a gentle voice, “you’re welcome.”

Laying down Beau’s eyes never left the outline of the figure who sat there looking out the window. Tomorrow she’d write her heart out and hoped that maybe it would help. That her thoughts wouldn’t be a mess, but right now she had no reason to worry. She had a angel looking over her and if Yasha had any idea that Beau was looking at her she made no comment. Sleep found Beau before Yasha, this sleep calmer than the first and all the monk hoped for was the same peace for Yasha; whenever sleep would find her too.

#critical role #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #beauyasha #my fanfic #my writing #long post #I’m sorry this took so long #I’m also sorry for any grammar errors

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seonghwa-is-babie · 4 years ago

Text

What we've been missing (pt. 4)

Tw: violence (kicking, slapping, hitting someone with a bat) abuse (emotional and physical) hospitals, cursing, shouting, crying, mentions of injuries from violence, flinching. Pls be careful reading if any of these are triggering for you and pls let me know if I missed anything

Ateez x male hybrid reader

So, sorry this took so long, I had a massive writers block, but I hope this long part can make up for it

Taglist: @jonghoshoe @little-precious-baby @twancingyunhoe @sansbun @yunhofingers

Yeosang finally got back home after a tough walk there, feet hurting from carrying his wounded body. He didn't come back to a sight he liked though

Wooyoung trying to calm down a sobbing San, jongho typing on their computer, probably something related to y/n. Mingi holding seonghwa and Hongjoong trying to get through to yunho, who seemed to have gone into a state of shock.

Never had he seen the puppy eyed man so empty of life "g-guys?" their heads turned to Yeosang, yunho immediately getting up, anything but friendly intent in his eyes

Those eyes were proven right when the tallest harshly grabbed the other's shirt and started screaming at him "how could you let this happen?!?!?!" Yeosang could see the tears streaming down the older's face

"yunho stop! He did his best to protect y/n" Hongjoong reasoned "it's still his fault that y/n isn't here right now!" Hongjoong pushed himself between the two before a serious fight broke out "yunho! We can argue about this later, right now, we need to find y/n. Focus on what's important!"

Yunho regained some of his common sense back, eyes widening with shock "I-I'm sorry Yeosang, I just.... I don't know what to do"

"it's okay, we're all a little out of it anyway" Yeosang said as he was guided to the bathroom to get his wounds cleaned up by Hongjoong

"Yeosang, before you go, do you remember the car's license plate that they used?" questioned jongho, the older nodded "can you write it down? I'm gonna call a hybrid rescue centre, but they'll need something to track y/n with" Yeosang thought back to the scene, remembering the licence plate to the best of his abilities, and wrote that down

"thanks Yeosang this'll definitely help them get y/n back sooner"

⏳

Meanwhile with y/n, things weren't looking that good for him, he just arrived at his former owners' house, to him it was more like a big scary mansion.

"come on little guy, let's get moving" but y/n didn't even shift, frozen by the fear and trauma the mansion held inside.

The man sighed "alright boys, lift him up, I don't have time for this" the men moved towards the hybrid, to which y/n shrunk back further into the car, he would have shifted if it wasn't for the collar they put on him.

Though he resisted heavily and scratched them deeply, he couldn't stop the men from grabbing him and restraining his movements. "let me go!" he thrashed around

"now since when did you become so bold, tabby?" he froze at the nickname, slowly turning to look at the person he feared ever encountering again. "you thought you could just run away from us without any consequences? Oh wait, you probably don't even know what that means" the woman spat "Well then, looks like I'm gonna have to teach you physically then"

⏳

"you little shit!" a kick came from the man before him "you think you can just leave like that?!" another kick "after everything you still haven't learned to obey?!" a slap was next "I-I'm sorry master-" the hybrid was loudly interrupted by the wife of the violent man "you do not speak unless told to! You worthless tabby!" it resulted in another kick, this time from the woman, who's heels were much sharper than her husband's, resulting him starting to bleed

The slapping and kicking, along with the verbal abuse, continued until y/n was knocked unconscious, either by blood loss or exhaustion, they didn't know

"pathetic" the man took the unconscious hybrid and took him to a separate room "now no one shall see what we'll do to you" he took out a bat as y/n was beginning to become conscious again, and immediately fear took over the boy. The man swung and hit him right on his ribs, he wouldn't be surprised if he had many broken bones by now. The hybrid coughed up blood "w-why are you d-doing this" he was grabbed by the man "because how else am I supposed to use my new tools?" he threw him back onto the ground harshly "and what did I say about talking?!"

⏳

The beating continued for hours, until their doorbell interrupted "ugh, what now?" the man let go off y/n and cleaned up his hands, which were covered in blood "don't you dare make a single noise to alert anyone, I can do a lot worse than this" it was the last thing y/n saw before he fell unconscious again

"hello, What can we do for you?" the woman opened the front door, trying to sound as sweet and innocent as she could "ma'am we've had an informant tell us you kidnapped a hybrid and are now keeping it in bad condition" an officer said, a whole crew stood behind him, ready to force their way into the house

"now why would we ever do that? We're just content by how we're living now, without any hybrid" the man said "than, you wouldn't mind if we looked around your house" that made the couple freeze in their steps "w-well, you don't have a search warrant so-" he was interrupted by the officer taking out a paper "we do have one, actually"

The couple started to panic, well aware of the state the hybrid was in if someone found him "I-I will not allow you to enter my house! Who are you people anyway?!" the officer signalled the crew behind him to start moving into the house "hybrid rescue centre"

As the crew walked in, the couple was promptly arrested. Seeing as they weren't expecting anyone over, they didn't clean up the blood from y/n. The captain and fellow officers searched around the house for the hybrid

"captain! I found the hybrid, but he's in pretty bad shape, we'll need a stretcher to carry him" the captain heard from his walky talky "good job, get him to the ambulance" the officer did so, receiving help to carry y/n onto the stretcher and get him out to the ambulance "contact the owners, tell them we got him back"

⏳

Meanwhile, the members were sitting around anxiously, waiting for the phone call that would determine y/n's savety "what if they don't get him out of there?" the others looked at mingi, their hearts breaking at the sight of the taller, tears threatening to fall out of his eyes. Jongho went to hug him "they'll get him out of there" he said determined.

At that moment, the phone started ringing. Hongjoong went to pick it up "Kim Hongjoong speaking, how can I help you?"

"yes, hello, this is the hybrid rescue centre, we're calling to inform you your hybrid has been retrieved" Hongjoong's eyes lit up at that, the others followed suit "unfortunately, he suffered several injuries, with multiple fatal ones, so he'll have to stay here for a few days until his wounds have healed"

he wanted to tear up at the mention of his kitten getting hurt, by the people who were supposed to take care of him nonetheless "I-I understand, we'll come see him as soon as possible" he hung up "well, what happened?" wooyoung asked "they got y/n back, but..... He has a lot of injuries, with a couple of fatal ones, so he'll have to stay at the centre for a few days" their faces morphed from excitement to sorrow at the mention of his injuries "well, what are we waiting for? Let's go see y/n"

⏳

As they arrived at the centre, they saw one of the officers waiting outside for them "you must be y/n's owners, come with me" they followed him into the various halls "how is he?" yunho asked anxiously

"he's in a stable condition, but he hasn't woken up yet. We managed to get the custody papers from his former owners however, we'll hand them over to you soon"

As they finally reached y/n's room, they started to feel fear, just how bad did they hurt him? They opened the door and like the officer said, he wasn't awake yet. The hybrid was covered in bandages and had several bruises, it was enough to make them tear up "y/n.......I'm so sorry, this is all my fault" Yeosang broke down on his knees in front of his bed "if I just protected you better, this wouldn't have happened" his sobbing broke the other members, who started crying as well "it's not your fault" a soft, quiet voice said, as Yeosang felt his hand being held. He looked up at the hybrid and saw him looking back at Yeosang "y/n...." he held his hand, afraid to hurt him if he did so anywhere else

"are you okay, kitten?" seonghwa asked concerned as he kissed the hybrid's forehead "......I'll be okay, don't worry about it" Hongjoong went over to seonghwa's side and held y/n's hand "but we do worry about you, and that's okay for us, because from now on we'll take extra good care of you" the hybrid gazed up at Hongjoong with eyes that could hold the galaxy "really?"

"yes kitten, really" he stepped aside to let the other boys through to y/n, and one by one, they all came up to him, talked, cried or simply were just there with him in that moment. The only one that who was left, was yunho, who'd been relatively quiet throughout the whole day

"yunho, are you okay?" the older lifted his head up, tears streaming down his eyes. This worried y/n "yunho, what's wrong?" said person started walking towards his bed and collapsed in front of y/n "I-I thought- I thought I lost you"

"I-it all happened so fast, I thought I'd never see you again" he sobbed and carefully embraced y/n, being careful not to hurt him "I'm okay now yunho, see, I'm here with you now" he tried him cheering up, and it worked a little bit as his sobbing died down into small sniffles and hiccups.

"I'll be okay, Yunho. It's just a few small injuries, right?" the others tensed at how y/n seemingly brushed off his injuries "....The doctor said you'll have to stay here until you're healed, would you like one of us to stay here with you tonight?" he nodded at seonghwa's question" is there any member in particular you want to stay with?" of course all of the members hoped to be chosen, but they'd keep it fair and go along with y/n's wishes "......can Hongjoong stay tonight?"

"off course, it'll be like a night at the studio" the hybrid smiled widely at Hongjoong's comment and nodded. The rest of their visit was filled with talking and cuddles. Before it was time to leave, seonghwa took Hongjoong out the room, to talk "I'm worried y/n isn't telling us the truth about his wellbeing"

"so you noticed too" seonghwa nodded "it's just.....the way he brushed off his injuries like they were just small bruises, something doesn't sit right with me" Hongjoong understood where he was coming from, the hybrid's behaviour was definitely not something they were expecting from someone who could've died if the rescue team took too long "I'm not asking you to find out what he's hiding from us, I just want you to take care of him when his walls do come down"

⏳

"are you sure you're comfortable, Hongjoong, I don't want you to wake up with an aching back" said person smiled reassuringly "I'll be fine y/n, besides, if my back does start to ache, I can always sleep on the other bed, for now I just wanna be close to you" Hongjoong said as he took y/n's hand and held it gently "even after everything, your hands are still so soft, kitten"

They went to sleep rather peacefully considering what happened that day, but it all came crashing down eventually. Around one in the morning, y/n woke up from a nightmare about what had happened and by shooting up as fast as he did, caused his ribs to hurt as they were still fractured by the beatings he went through.

He started to cry, it only adding more pain to his already hurting ribs. The crying eventually reached Hongjoong's ears as he woke up "kitten....what's wrong, why are you crying" he went to pet y/n's head, but the hybrid flinched away "d-don't hurt me!" the sentence broke Hongjoong's heart. Just how much did his former owners harm him?

"y/n, it's okay I'm here" the older said as he slowly sat down on y/n's bed, carefully grasping his hands and caressing them with his thumbs "hey....look at me, its gonna be okay, they're gone now" he calmed down after a couple of minutes, his panic dying down into sobs "I-it hurts" Hongjoong looked a bit confused, but also very concerned at the hybrid "what hurts, kitten?" y/n took one of his hands back and placed it on his ribs "here, I got up too quick and it hurt a lot...then I started crying and it started to hurt more"

Hongjoong fully got on y/n's bed, swinging his leg over the boy so they were on either side "did it hurt before that too or is it just starting to now" he looked away, guilt slowly settling down into the boy ".....before that too..." this is what he was hiding, he's been hurting all this time and he didn't want anyone to know "I just- you guys already looked so stressed out from having me taken away, I didn't wanna add on to that" Hongjoong carefully took the hybrid's head, one hand settled on his cheek, the other gently petting his cat ear

"kitten, we really don't mind that kind of stuff. You mean a lot to us and your health is really important to us. So please, when you are hurting, either physically or mentally, please tell us" y/n nodded as Hongjoong brought his head into the older's chest "it's gonna be okay kitten, soon enough you'll be all better and ready to come back home with us"

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thirstystarkey · 4 years ago

Text

HATE CAN SOUND LIKE LOVE • JJ MAYBANK

Summary: JJ and Y/N have always fought, since everyone can remember. They both have short tempers and a endless love for surf and chaos. But what happens when they have to pretend to be a couple? Well.. people always said that hate can sound like love sometimes.

Warnings: Mention of underage drinking, drugs, minor violence, some smutty scenarios and a ton of sexual induendos, JJ being a hot idiot and Y/N a wild girl brat

CHAPTER 10

“Is she okay?” Pope asked worried about Y/N, it seemed like in the last weeks she kept getting hurt.

“I’m okay.” She girl got up as fast as a lightning, feeling her all body hurt but she pretended it didn’t. “JJ!” She called after kneeling down in the sand on both knees.

“I’m fine don’t worry.” He said but his facial expression said otherwise, groaning in pain and with a bloody nose and a open lip.

“No you are not!” Y/N stated loudly. “Here, stop acting like that, let me help you.” She tried to carry his body, supporting him and hugging his waist, John B and Pope helping right away.

Almost everyone left the bonfire at that point, leaving them alone in the beach, the soft waves breaking in the distance. Y/N sat with JJ in a branch, she pulled his hair backwards to get a clear look at his face, she could she the pain in his eyes but JJ still made her a funny face, sticking his tongue out almost touching her nose, in the attempt of distracting her from his wounds and pain.

“We should get going.” Sarah spoke and the pogues agreed.

“I will take JJ with me to clean his face and give him some painkillers.” Y/N announced.

“You sure? You can crash with us at my place.” John B offered caressing her head.

“It’s okay, I can deal with it.” Y/N assured. “You guys can go.”

“If you need anything call.” Sarah hugged Y/N. “And I’m so sorry for my stupid brother.” She whispered to her friends making her laugh.

After they left Y/N stayed silent for a few minutes before she had the courage to speak and look at JJ, who gazed lost at the black ocean.

“I’m so sorry JJ.” Her voice was soft and teary. “I didn’t meant for this to happen. I never wished you got hurt and it’s my fault, I’m so sorry.” She stuttered.

JJ looked at Y/N and saw how worried she was, her face tired and also bruised. She had tears about to fall in her eyes and her hair was messy from falling.

“Don’t apologize, it wasn’t your fault.” He mumble but Y/N heard clearly. “I’m glad I got there in time before he did something worse than being a dick.”

“I’m not afraid of Rafe.” She lied. “Let me take you home, you need to clean your face and rest.”

“You don’t need to.” JJ tried to brush it off.

“Yes I do!” She instested getting but, giving her hand for him to get up. “You took care of me when I fainted.” Y/N remembered him. “Even though it was your fault, but you still did. Now let me pay my debt.”

“I guess you’re right.” The boy giggled before taking her hand.

The way back home was silent and calm. Not many people were out since it got pretty late in the night. When they arrived to Y/N’s home she warned JJ to be quiet, she didn’t wanted her mom to wake up and ask why there was a boy in her house late at night, especially with a bloody face.

Once in the safety of her room the red head closed her bedroom’s door and headed to her private bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit. JJ shrunk his nose at the thought of the pain from cleaning the wounds.

“Don’t be a big baby about it.” She teased him, kneeling in between his legs, remarking his words.

“You know, most of the times when a girl drops to her knees in front of me it’s not to clean my wounds.” JJ looked down at her eyes, almost piercing her soul.

“Nice to know.” She got up quickly after soaking a ball of cotton in alcohol. “This might hurt a bit.” She warned him before placing it carefully throughout his cut.

JJ moaned loudly, it burned and hurted more than the punches he got hours earlier. She was fast enough to shut him up with a hand to his mouth, with wide eyes scared if her mom woke up from her sleep.

“Be quiet.” She whispered.

“Excuse me ma’mam but it hurts.” He slapped her hand away.

“Pussy.” Y/N mocked him finishing his wounds.

She took his face carefully in her hands and with her point finger Y/N applied some cream to his lip, to help it heal better. JJ watched her moved quietly and almost not breathing when she was so close to his lips. Once she got away he missed her near presence.

“Here, take these.” She handed him a painkiller and a bottle of water from her nightstand. “I take those for my menstrual cramps but they should do the work.” Y/N explained to him while we shallowed the pull down with some water.

“Thank you Y/N” JJ smiled at her. “I appreciate this, I really do.”

“It’s okay.” She answered after putting away the first aid kit.

“I should get going.” JJ commented after looking at her clock.

“You can stay a bit longer if you want to.” She offered shy. “I mean I’m not sleepy and I don’t feel like being alone..”

“And your mom?” The boy asked concerned.

“What she doesn’t see wont hurt her.” Y/N alleged. “Besides that she already thinks your my fake boyfriend, if she finds out the only thing she’d do is probably talk about birth control and how a unplanned pregnancy would ruin me life.”

“Yeah you’re totally right.” JJ laughed at the thought. “Our son would be a total crackhead.” The boy joked.

“JJ! Don’t say those things!” Y/N thrown him a pillow playfully.

“Boy or girl?” He asked curious looking at her from where she was sitting.

“Girl.”

“Name?” JJ narrowed his brows.

“Something related to the ocean.” Y/N said thinking out loud. “Aurora or Meredith.”

“Aurora is fine.” He spoke softly getting up from her bed to sit in front of her at her window bench, the windows were open and the soft night breeze flown lightly throughout Y/N’s room sometimes making her hair fly against the wind. “Hey..” JJ called touching her knee.

Y/N looked back at him, his features looked softer now, he didn’t seem so uptight and tense with her and more like the normal JJ around the other pogues. This JJ seemed like the easy JJ to fall for.

“What did he meant when he called you fake pogue?” His question almost hit her like a bullet. Y/N never spoke about that, she avoided it and now JJ touched the open scar.

“It’s a long story JJ..” She started but he interrupted.

“I’m not in a hurry.” The blue eyed boy bursted. “You can tell me if you want.”

Y/N sighed, hugging her knees and placing her head between them, almost like getting ready to open herself to a so delicate subject. She never showed any signs of vulnerability, she felt weak and ran away from the people she showed her vulnerable side, thinking if they knew too much they’d look at her differently or even use it against her, in the worst scenario leave her.

“It’s my father.” Y/N started and JJ skin crawled at her pharse. “He’s a kook from a old money family. That bastard was never there for me or my mother and when he was around he’d be drunk and abusive.” It pained her to speak about her traumas, but in a odd way this time it felt relieving.

“You don’t need to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable.” JJ assured her running his fingers in soothing patterns against her leg.

“No it’s okay.” She said before continuing. “I lived at figure 8 when I was a kid before my dad ran away with all the money, leaving me and my mom in a living hell. Drowning in debts, homeless for a few months. Crashing at some friends couch’s and my grandmas home. That’s how my mom opened the diner and met Kiara’s parents.”

“I had no idea.” JJ was beyond surprised. He never thought she had gone through all that, never in a million years he’d thought the girl he mocked knew his pain so well. “I’m so sorry for everything, but hey, you turned into one hell of a strong girl.” He cheered.

“Thanks Maybank.” Y/N laughed trying not to cry, discreetly brushing her tears off from the corners of her eyes.

“Always firecracker.” JJ said softly before embracing her and rubbing her hair.

Tag list 💞

@thatsonobx @starkeybaby @this-is-bigger-than--us @ahhireallydontknow @tomzfrog @alotbnouf @outerbankstings @jj-maybank-stan @jellyfishbeansontoast @rafecamerondeservesbetter @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @tembo-ndoto @poguebx @k-k0129 @kieinred @obxmxybxnk @stilinskiandsuch @lcil123 @fandom-phaser @sexualparkour @myrandom-fandomlife @lasnaro @kristineee-obx @sw-eat-ing @strangebirds2 @kiarascarreras @jjswhore @milamaybank @marveloucnco @downbytheouterbanks @write-from-the-heart @justcallmesams @annedub @drizzlethatfalls @tovvaf @drewswannabegirl @whoreforouterbanks @newhopenessie @maybebanks @poguesrforlife @shawnssongs @wastedheartcth @rudyypankow @danicarosaline @sc4rlettm @hufflepeople @merc12-us @punkrainbows @obliviatevamps @tangledinsparkles

#jj maybank #obx #outer banks #rudy pankow #jj #rudy #jj smut #jj x reader #jj x y/n #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fluff #kiara #pope #john b #sarah cameron #rafe cameron #obx jj

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whump-it · 4 years ago

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Rory’s Audit; Part 1

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @iaminamoodymoodtoday @burtlederp @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @crowned-avery @whump-tr0pes @spookyboywhump @finder-of-rings @liliability @whumpfigure @girlwithacoolcat @tears-and-lilies @inpainandsuffering @whumpfigure @whumppsychology @ashintheairlikesnow

The Collection Box had been quiet again just recently. The usual ebb and flow of the seasons. It was normal. It happened ever year without fail. But Rory still felt a little nervous about the impending visit from his boss. They hadn’t had much cause to interact often since Rory had started working for the Programme. Mr Newman spent most of his time at the Locality Facility, only rarely stopping by to clap Rory on the shoulder and tell him that he “ran a tight ship”. And then he was gone again for months on end. It was partly why Rory had become so organised in the first place; there was no one there to help him or tell him what to do so he kept rigorous notes, took excellent care of the Locality Box, and kept the equipment in top notch condition, always replacing it before it really needed it.

Rory loved his job and he felt as sure as he could that he was good at it. His BP were always calm and content. His Selectors often sent thank you cards or photos of themselves with their BP over the years. Not all of them did but a good enough amount did to reassure him that the system was helping a huge amount of people. And it paid for him to be able to keep a roof over his head. Bills paid on time. Food bought. A little to go aside into savings every few months.

All in all, a visit from his boss, especially one preceded by a gruff sounding and very short phone call was a concern. He both loved, and needed his job.

So in the few hours prior to the visit he had spent time cleaning everything. Making his Collection Box into the best damn box that the world had ever seen. He vacuumed. He dusted. He damp dusted. He swept. He had one BP in who was taking the chance to have a midday sleep after Rory had checked that they were comfortable and full, not needing the toilet or not feeling unwell. He apologised for all of the noise that he was making and tried to keep it down now that they were sleeping.

“Boss man coming in or something?” they’d joked at him.

“Actually yes,” Rory had said. The BP had frowned.

“Don’t look so nervous,” they had said. “I’ll tell them how good it is here.”

The memory of the little exchange had kept the edge off Rory’s panic for most of the morning, until the knock at his door came and caused an uncomfortable leap up in his heart, thudding in his chest. He rubbed his palms down the legs of his trousers in an attempt at not having sweaty palms in time to shake his boss’s hand. It certainly made turning the doorknob to his office door into an easier task.

“Mr Newman,” Rory said, a smile on his lips that didn’t quite meet his eyes as he tried to inject a light hearted tone to his voice. “Good to see you again.” He shifted back out of the way of the door before remembering that he had meant to shake hands. He stuck his hand out as Mr Newman walked through the door, effectively slapping his boss in the stomach as he did so. Mr Newman stopped at the slap of Rory’s hand and looked down at the offending appendage. Rory winced and slowly brought his hand back to his own side.

“Sorry,” he said. “Awkward.” He could feel his face heating up as Mr Newman stood and regarded him with one eyebrow raised as he sighed. “Ok, come on in!” Mr Newman walked past him, and Rory shut the door, wincing and muttering to himself to stop being such an idiot before straightening up, tugging his hand through his hair, fixing his smile back on his face and going to sit at his desk.

"Look," Mr Newman said, sitting down and waving a hand impatiently at Rory, hurrying him up. "I'll keep this simple. We need to run an audit; you need to run an audit. State ordered. No wiggle room."

"Ok?" Rory said, leaning back then sitting forward. Awkward. Uncertain.

"Don't play the idiot," Mr Newman snapped. "The rumour mill's been working up to this and there's no way that even you, isolated as you've made yourself out here, there's no way that you haven't heard anything." Rory held his nerve. Held his silence. He wanted more certainty from his boss. Mr Newman sighed and crossed one leg over the other, ankle to knee. “The young BP, Rory. Some girl has come out saying that she was kept and abused by some drug lord, drug baron. Whatever. Look, they should’ve sent her down with him but somehow she got off all the charges. It was her money he was using.”

“Well,” Rory said, the tiniest hint of a shake to his voice. A fraction of nerves amongst the knowledge that what he was about to say was going to be right. “It was his money once she was Selected so, technically, she had no control over what he did.”

“So you have heard,”

“Well....”

“Stop saying ‘well’ all the time,”

“I’ve heard,” Rory said. His inner monologue had been aching over the rumours. Pining. The scabbed-over wound that Callum Morrow’s appearance and subsequent Selection had left was fresh and bleeding again. But with only a rumour to go on, he had set it to one side. And burned and ached. But he had put it to the back of his mind, stamped it down. Callum was fine. Callum was happy. His Selector checked out. It was one rumour.

“We, apparently, can’t “go on turning a blind eye” anymore. Or so the Givernment are saying. Some internet forum or some other rubbish. I don’t know. But people are starting to kick up trouble. Not the BP I may add. The girl has gone quiet. No other BP are whining. But the powers that be don’t like how it looks. We’ll come out of it fine. But I need you to do that audit. And I want to see the results first. Got it?”

“Got it,” Rory muttered. The voice in his head kept getting louder. Callum Callum Callum. A scar that had suddenly stopped healing. Sutures tearing out. Mr Newman glared at him.

“You better have “got it”,” he said, as he stood and turned his back on Rory, walked to the door. “How long is this likely to take?”

“Um,” Rory mentally shook himself. Callum Callum Callum. Be ok. Be ok. “Not long. I only have one under twenty five ever come through here. Don’t ever get any under about forty actually.”

“So...?” Mr Newman flapped one hand at him, the other already turning the doorknob.

“Give me a week,” Rory said. “I keep good records.” His attention was already wandering further and further from his boss and drifting to his laptop and his filing cabinet. His data sticks and his photographs. He heard Mr Newman’s terse goodbye but not the words. The banging shut of the door jolted his attention to the buzzing silence of the room around him. “Fuck.” He hissed the word out into the room, pulling at his hair, rubbing at his face. Dashing away at tears that he had not realised were even beginning to gather. He felt pulled in too many different directions. There was too much to do and too many places to start. He snatched up a piece of paper and started to write. He needed a list. A plan. A way to channel his thoughts so that they wouldn’t get away from him. He needed to produce an audit. Please his boss. Keep the only source of money that he had.

He needed Callum to be ok. More than all of those things, he needed Callum to be ok.

The list grew. It flowed out from his pen. He forced himself to write alowly and neatly. Mistakes could not be a part of this. And rushing wouldn’t achieve anything. The very first thing on his list read ’look after current BP’. He took a deep breath in and out, and carried on. ‘Laptop’, ‘data stick 3ii’, ‘file copy Callum Morrow’, ‘file copy Hayden Reeve’. He wrote down the websites and databases that would hold the answers to the questions that he was forming and solidifying in his mind. ‘Postal Service’, ‘GIS’, ‘MapReader’.

At the very bottom he wrote ‘You’ve got one week to get him’.

#The collection box #collection box #oc rory #oc Rory Linden #oc mr newman #oc hayden reeve #oc master hayden #oc Callum #oc Callum Morrow #rory linden international man of disaster #Rory loves Callum #oh rory #rory is a quiet disaster #rory is worried about his callum

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anonymous0writer · 4 years ago

Text

Daddy Issues

Author: @anonymous0writer

Warnings: Mentions of abuse. Swearing. Inferences of sex. Death...

Requested: Yes!! :) “If you take songfic requests - can you write maybe a JJ one with 'daddy issues' (the neighbourhood)? I really enjoyed 'Friends'! 😊😊”

Summary: Based off the song “Daddy Issues” by the Neighbourhood.

A/N: This was so fun. :) I have another request that might take a while to write after this one, so be patient with that one!! But send more in!! Also I made up JJ’s real name. I thought Jesse was fitting...

Lyrics are in Italics

Take you like a drug I taste you on my tongue You ask me what I'm thinking about I'll tell you that I'm thinking about Whatever you're thinking about

Tongues crash as you kiss him feverishly. His hands grasp your butt, roaming over you bare torso. You arch into his back, moaning softly.

“God, JJ.” You whisper, breathless.

He picks you up and carries you to the bedroom, crawling over you. He cages you in, hands on either side of your head. He sucks on your neck, leaving you breathless and needy. You whine his name, asking him for it.

He smirks and undresses you with the ease of someone who’s had plenty practice. Most of them with you. You giggle, naked before him as you reach for his belt. He allows you to take off his pants and as you tease him, you watch his control fray. Once his pants are off, he pushes into you, unable to hold his need back any longer. You cry out his name at the sudden burst of pleasure.

The rest of the night is a blur of moans, pleasure, his rough voice and sheets. The memory of the amazing night it hazy, but your body remembers. You giggle and intertwine your fingers with his. He leans over, his chest pressing against your back. His hot breath brushes your bare shoulder as he kisses it.

“What are you thinking about?” He mutters.

“John B.” You laugh as he grunts with annoyance and kisses your shoulder again. “No. It’s always you, J.”

“That’s my girl.” He holds you tight and makes a new hickey just below your jaw.

Go ahead and cry little girl Nobody does it like you do I know how much it matters to you I know that you got daddy issues

A knock sounds on your window. You frown and go to investigate. A familiar blonde boy is perched on your roof, tapping on the window. Gasping you work quickly on opening the window and allowing your boyfriend in.

“JJ what-” You start but stop as you take him in.

Lip busted, black eyes and more probably splattered across his torso. Your jaw clenches. His father.

“Holy shit, J.” You whisper, looking up to meet his blue eyes.

“It’s fine. Nothing I’m not used to.” He gives you half of a smile, but it’s quickly replaced by a wince.

Snapping into your ‘doctor’ mode, you grabbed his hand and forced him to sit on your toilet as you went to grab your first aid kit. Sadly, you’d done this enough to know what to do. Not just with his dad, but with other kids. More specifically, Rafe Cameron. They always seemed at each others throats.

You cleaned him up and got a glimpse of the damage done to his ribs. Though you often begged him, JJ refused to go to the hospital. No matter what. Even if you were afraid they were broken. He was so stubborn sometimes.

After you cleaned him, you helped him into your bed, and cuddled and kissed him until you heard his breathing even out.

I tried to write your name in the rain But the rain never came So I made with the sun The shame, always comes at the worst time

You were breathing hard, rain sliding down your arms and spilling into your eyes. You stood across from your boyfriend. The blonde who was shaking his head.

“No, stop saying that!”

“Why?” You screamed back. “Why JJ? I love you! It’s not a bad thing!” By now you were pleading.

His blue eyes looked dark. His pale hair was darkened by the onslaught of rain. You two were drenched and screaming at each other, outside of John B.’s house. In the beginning of a hurricane. Fitting, right?

“Just stop saying that!” He yelled back, jaw clenched and eyes hard.

You swallowed. “Why?” you’re voice broke. You knew he didn’t feel the same way. You knew it would take a lot for him to say it. And you were okay with it. But he had freaked out when you confessed. Now you were wondering if he just couldn’t say it, or he just couldn’t say it to you.

You felt like sobbing. And it was heart breaking. Today was your first year anniversary.

I keep on trying to let you go Not even let you know How I'm getting on I didn't cry when you left at first

You sat in your shower, the water spraying your puffy face. You were broken and sobbing. All along you knew that he didn’t love you, and you were okay with that. But he wasn’t, so he ended things. And you were okay. In the beginning. But then you saw him with another girl. And looked happier with her than he had been with you.

So it was safe to say, that you weren’t okay now. You didn’t cry at first, but now it seemed like you couldn’t stop. And neither did the hurting. But he seemed okay. He seemed happy with his new girl. One that you couldn’t even compare to. One that had stayed with him longer than you. A year and two weeks. You and JJ couldn’t even make it to one.

But now that you're dead it hurts This time I gotta know Where did my daddy go? I'm not entirely here Half of me has disappeared

You stood by John B., Kie and Pope. And Charlotte. You five stood in a line, black dresses and suits. The sun illuminated the stone engraved with a name that broke your heart.

Jesse J. Maybank

Amazing friend, boyfriend and son

They said it was a bike accident. That he succumbed to his wounds. No matter what, he would’ve died.

JJ. Your JJ. Your best friend. Your former lover. The love of your life. The only blonde you fell for. The funniest person in the world. The one that could make you smile no matter what. The one who got you and understood you. The only person you ever loved that much.

Beside you, Charlotte sniffled. You knew she was hurting worse than you. After all, JJ actually loved her. And admitted it. And she wasn’t a bad person. She was actually the nicest person, with a rare, witty humor. Not to mention she was drop dead gorgeous. You tried not to hold resentment in your heart. And you didn’t. Over the years, you recovered and healed. But JJ was still the one. But the hard truth was that you weren’t the one for him.

And that hurt, but right now, you weren’t the only one in pain. Kie was sobbing in Pope’s arms. John B. was staring at the stone, tears streaming silently down his face. Charlotte was the complete opposite. She was on her knees, sobbing. The sound broke your heart. And you were surprised that you were the one to keep it somewhat together among the group. So you sank to your knees beside Charlotte and pulled her into a hug.

“I know.” You whispered. “I miss him too.”

Go ahead and cry little girl Nobody does it like you do I know how much it matters to you I know that you got daddy issues And if you were my little girl I'd do whatever I could do I'd run away and hide with you

You looked at the letter with shaking hands. Your name was printed in familiar messy script on the front of the pale envelope. It’d been a year, and Charlotte had found the letter after finally cleaning the small apartment she and JJ shared and moved. She gave it to you a week ago, but you’d been too afraid of it.

But you were ready. As ready as you’d ever be.

Y/N,

I don’t know if you’ll get this. Or when. Or hell, if I even keep it. I’ve written at least ten of these and just threw them away. I guess words were never my strong suit, yeah? (You better be damn proud of me because I’m actually writing this shit.)

You let loose a half sob, half laugh. God, you can hear him speaking to you. His blue eyes bright and his lips smirking. You keep reading.

But this is what I wanted to say: I loved you. When you said those words to me, I freaked out. I’ve never been in love and I didn’t know what if felt like. And I didn’t realize it, but I was in love with you too. I just was blind and dumb back then. It was only when I found Char that I knew what I felt for you was love. But it’s different than what I have with Charlotte.

You know that thing you said about the three loves in your life? Remember, we were on the boat, just us and watching the stars because that was your new obsession? Well, I remember it. And exactly what you said. I’ll never forget it.

“You have three loves in your life. The first one is your first love. It’s messy and heartbreaking and might not seem like love, but it is. Because it’s what you believe to be love. The second one is your hard love. You heal from past mistakes and you learn and grow together. But its hard because it’s worse than the first. It puts you through hell, but that’s when you find out what you want and you become stronger and wiser. And then your last love. The one that the one. You find each other when you least expect it. You might not even be looking for it. But you love each other and you love them completely.”

Your heart wrenches. He remembered that. All of it. He was really listening.

And I believe you were my first love. We believed what we had was love, and it was. At least you did. I’m am sorry that I didn’t realize that I loved you when we were together. I should’ve. And I wish I could take it back. Go back and tell you I loved you. Because while I love Charlotte more than anything, I think, that if I told you I loved you, we’d be together still. And we wouldn’t have to go through our hard love. We could just skip from first love to last love.

I’m sorry, Y/N. I wish I would’ve said it all those years ago. But I loved you. I still love you.

From,

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years ago

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 10: Myofascial Release

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: Shane and Sy decompress after an emotional evening, Shane finds it difficult to get out of her own head and live in the moment, but Sy knows exactly how to help her, and not to be a complete hoe and spoil things, but…things get steamier than ever between our favorite therapist and patient duo.

Oh snap! You’re behind! Get on track here!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Language, mature themes, alcohol consumption, the smut you’ve all been waiting for so patiently! (I hope it lives up to your undoubtedly high expectations!)

Author’s Note: Oh gosh, y’all, I am so nervous to post this. Somehow it doesn’t feel like my smuttiest smut. And like, all previous chapters have been kind of leading up to this moment. The good news is, I’ve decided to continue writing this story after the sex. I’ve got some ideas about where to go from here, and I want to keep it going. Plus, it feels wrong to write all of this and then just drop them without a big picture resolution. They’re gonna go through some shit, though. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

@speakerforthedead0

@tumblnewby

@suavechops

@radkesgirl83

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Her living room was cast in the low light of the floor lamp she had left on. Intending to come home after dark. Alone. She hated walking into a dark house by herself.

Well, tonight, she wasn’t alone. And although Sy had been to her house before, this was different. They were officially a couple, and they were no longer waiting to express, to the fullest extent, their true affection for one another.

Ever the hostess, despite her nervous tension, Shane asked Sy if he wanted anything to drink, rambling off several options somewhat awkwardly.

“I’m fine, darlin.’” He assured her, stopping her at some point in the rant, before she was completely done. “Do you need something?”

“Umm, I think I should have a glass of wine.” Her eyes darted to the kitchen across her serve-through counter space and landed on her fridge. “I’m…I’m really nervous.”

"Why don't we watch a little TV for a while? You get you some wine, and I'll put somethin' on. What are we watchin', sunshine?"

"Ummmm, something light? Funny? Something I've seen." She wouldn't be able to process anything new or heavy right now.

"I'm on it." he kissed the top of her head and left her side for the sofa, where he plopped himself down like a comfy hound dog, and picked up the remote to her Smart TV.

She smiled as she busied herself in the kitchen. She decided she wanted a snack with her wine. She got a plate of cheese and crackers together first. Then she remembered she had some venison sausage one of her coworkers had brought in, and put that on the plate, too. She got out a chilled bottle of her favorite, cheap moscato and a stemless glass. She couldn't go in there without something for Sy, so she also got a glass of ice water ready for him. She put the whole spread on her big serving tray and took it to the living room.

Sy was already halfway through the first episode of Parks and Recreation.

"I saw this in your 'Watch it again' group, and thought maybe you'd like to re-watch it. I've heard you talk about it a lot, and I've never seen it." He didn't complain at her for taking forever. He just lit up when he saw her. Like it was the first time. And not the hundredth.

"That's perfect, babe. I brought some snacks out, too. Some cheese and crackers, and this really good sausage one of my coworkers brought me. You like deer?" she asked.

"One of my favorite pet names." he teased. "I do, though, yes."

They ate, and laughed, and watched about four or five episodes, it was hard to keep track. But after approximately half the bottle, Shane had summoned some courage. She started playing at the texture of Sy's jeans, running a fingernail across the coarse fabric.

"Hang on, love bug. I want to know somethin.'" she looked up at him, mildly confused. "I'm trying to think of a reason you need to get tipsy to sleep with me that I shouldn't take personally." he rubbed her upper arm, comforting her as no one had done since she was a small child. At least not that she could remember.

"No, Sy. It's not like that. You aren't the problem at all!" she paused. He let her gather her thoughts. She appreciated that he knew she intended to continue and that he didn't rush her to do it. He was patient. And kind. And all of that should have made this whole night easier. But somehow it didn’t.

“I’m the problem." She confessed after a long pause and a deep sigh. "I mean, I’m in my head about it all, I know. But it’s been…almost six years since I’ve slept with anyone, five and a half, at least, and I can’t seem to wrap my head around it now that I know it’s going to happen again.”

He pulled her body into his, squeezing her tightly for one of his soul cleansing hugs.

“Sunshine. Everything will come back to ya. We’ll just go as slow as ya want. I got all night.”

“Okay. Well, I guess, since I’m a bit sleepy from the wine, we should head to bed.”

Sy affirmed the idea, and made to help her put their snacks away in the kitchen.

She got out containers for their leftover food while Sy stoppered the wine, put it in the fridge, and washed their glasses.

She felt his warmth before she felt his touch. He stood behind her, radiating his particular brand of heat for a moment, and taking in the scent of her hair near her right ear. She heard a low rumble from someplace deep in him which slowed her efforts at the counter. His hands were light but very much present on her hips. A whisper against the fabric of the casual but feminine floral dress she’d chosen for the night. But she felt it like the weight of her favorite old blanket, heavy with years and warm comfort.

He kissed her temple, chaste and unassuming. But still full of desperation. She could tell that he was ready. Even without the alignment of their bodies completely giving him away.

“Don’tcha think this stuff can wait a couple hours, darlin'?"

His baritone, breathless in her ear, was soothing her back into the mindset of being with him. His feather touch still lingering at her hips and waist. She thought back to those seminars she'd gone to on manual therapy where the speaker talked in depth about the fascial tissues running all across the various muscles in the human body and how trauma to one part could cause tension in another like a snag in a sweater and how he taught the participants techniques to undo that trauma through myofascial release. Sy was slowly managing to unwind and unbind the taut fibers of her heart and relieve that pain that Elliott, in particular had set into place so firmly when he'd hurt her. Lied to her. Cheated on her. Gaslit her. Made her feel like she'd never be loved if she left him. Made her question the very idea of what love meant. Because if what they'd had was truly love, she didn't want it. Wanted no part of the games or the abuse or the manipulation.

Without fully realizing it, during this time of reflection and healing, Shane had given up the task at her hands and turned to Sy, open to his treatment, as he'd always been so open to hers…or mostly. And she let him kiss her, reciprocating. And hold her, returning his enveloping embrace. She even let him pick her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, resting them on his…all too well-defined bilateral gluteus maximus that she'd had to pretend to ignore for weeks. In the therapist side of her brain, alarm bells were going off. "His knee isn't fully healed! You're gonna undo all of the work you've both done so far! He's gonna hurt himself carrying you around!" but she ignored them and trusted him as he walked to her room.

Shane wanted to say that her bedroom was one of splendor. Immaculately made bed, and overall, the picture of tidiness. The reality was much, MUCH different. Glasses half full of water were everywhere (she may be forgetful, but at least she was optimistic), at least one coffee mug sat on the nightstand from the previous weekend when she took a morning cup of tea in bed with her George Harrison biography. Laundry overflowed from a sorting hamper in the corner, and her bed sat, unmade, littered with crumpled pillows, sheets, blankets, and the pajamas she'd slept in last night. She wasn't the kind of person to make her bed for reasons other than having company over, like the fancy company you had to give a tour of your whole house. She'd tried to be that person numerous times, but it never seemed to stick.

Tonight, though, the guilt that came with sub-par housekeeping skills wasn't plaguing her. Right now, all she felt was the weightlessness of being with Sy, wrapped in him, kissing him, and fully ready for what was about to happen between them, as he fell with her onto her bed. Their heads clunked together awkwardly, invoking a mutual wince, followed by bouts of laughter and playful kisses.

He hovered over her a moment, just taking her in. His fingers ghosting her forehead and cheeks to clear it of the whisps of hair obscuring her face. He seemed to examine her in methodical quadrants. Learning the curves and colors and every wrinkle, freckle, and pore. She was still fully clothed, but she'd never felt so bare and vulnerable.

He left her eyes for last. His gaze drowning her delightfully. Random song lyrics came to mind, "the serenity of a clear blue mountain lake" and she thought yes. That is the precise aesthetic of this man's stare. His expression was inscrutable. She wanted to say he looked happy and content, but she didn't want to presume.

He began tracing the floral pattern on her dress with his fingers, and said, "I really like this dress on you."

She laughed, "Oh, that's the beginning of the oldest line in the book. You know you've already got me in bed, right?"

"No, I…" he chuckled, embarrased. "I mean it sincerely. Seeing you in flowers like this…makes me think they bloom right from ya."

She propped herself up on her elbows, dumbstruck by this uncharacteristically poetic side of him she'd just been shown. She stroked the side of his face.

"The man who came up with the original pickup line is rolling over in his grave attempting to kick himself for not thinking of something so beautiful."

"Yeah?"

"HELL yeah. He would have gotten WAY more lucky with a statement like that."

"You're probably right." he said, pulling her up to hold her in his arms.

"If for no other reason that it would have landed him a higher caliber woman than the floozies that he probably got."

He moaned his ascent against her neck, and continued, "Which would have meant a lot more getting lucky down the road, right?"

"Traditionally speaking, I'd say yes." she laughed, her fingers in his hair, which was barely long enough for the action.

"Okay, I know I said I liked the dress, but…" he tugged at the hemline tucked just under her hips and pulled it off her willing body.

"About time, cowboy!" she smiled, breathless.

He continued kissing her as he unhooked her strapless bra and tossed it aside, into the abyss, where the dress had gone. She was so dizzy from him that she barely noticed he was laying her down until her warm back hit cool sheets. She could feel his touch everywhere at once, despite the fact that he was really only making two or three points of contact.

Shane trembled as Sy peppered her soft body with kisses. She couldn't recall shivering like this before, especially when there was nothing but warmth, even heat, around her. His beard grazing her hips and thighs was sending tremors through her unlike anything she'd ever felt. She was a goner, and he hadn't even truly begun.

His breath against her skin was like lightning in the clouds. A storm began forming within, and all around them from his work on her…and eventually in her. He took the time to remove both of the shirts he was wearing--plaid cotton blend and thick white jersey. She reached out to run her fingertips over his chest, covered in a manly stand of thick, dark hair. It ran over his pecs and down his abdomen…farther, she knew, than was exposed right now.

She wanted to touch him. To return the favor. To stir in him the same tempest he'd stirred in her. She unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. She was a little surprised he wasn't resisting her, but pleased, all the same. She took the heavy weight of him out in some shock…she'd caught outlines and silhouettes often since they'd been together, but he hadn't let her go this far yet. It had made her feel a little slutty at the time, but now, she understood. He was…protecting her, in a way. She handled him curiously, gently, as he'd been with her. Her apprehension, however, grew with him.

"Sy, you're…I…" she wasn't sure what to say. But she had concerns about being rent in two by him.

"I think I remember tellin' ya you wouldn't be laughin,' sunshine." he grinned at her, breathless as she stroked him.

"You were right. But don't get too used to me saying so." she smirked back at him.

He pulled away from her, reluctantly, but eager to get back to tasting her.

She couldn't comprehend what he was doing. But it felt incredible. No one she'd ever been with had made her feel like this. Like her blood was effervescent and her body was aglow like embers. His reaction to her was as much a part of the pleasure as his ministrations themselves. She could tell he was enjoying himself which fed her desire.

She felt a tension coiling inside her, something similar to climaxes past but she could tell, much more intense. What was different? Other than Sy, she didn't know. But it was working. She moaned and writhed into him.

"Yeah, sugar. Let that out. I wanna hear it." he quickened, driving her mad and sending her spinning into her bliss, incomprehensible words and sounds escaping her, growls of satisfaction escaping him, but he didn't stop.

She felt his fingers working inside her to pull another climax from deep within her. This was new for her, as well. Not only was he putting her first, but he was making her a priority in double measure before taking anything for himself. As that pressure built in her again, she felt his gaze on her, hungry and adoring, and she heard his grunts of exertion and she thought, lust. She wasn't sure how many of his digits he'd managed to slide into her, but it felt splendid, and she wanted more. She gripped his arms to convey this desire, words caught in her throat. He dove headlong back down to her, adding his mouth to the onslaught of his hand, and before she could get out more than a "Fuuuu" she was falling apart again, her body spasming and writhing beneath his utter oral perfection. Eventually, she finished the word when she ran out of air and had to take in a large gasp on the "uck."

She watched him kiss around her thighs and hips, in awe of him in his entirety.

Breathless, she asked, "Why are you so good to me, Sy?"

"Well, a wise woman once told me, 'good go to heaven.'" he looked coyly up at her. "I think I'm there, sunshine."

"Ya know, you're the best patient I've ever had." she smiled.

"Well, I should hope so." he boasted as he kissed at her breasts, nipping at the taut, dark bud in the center. She gasped. He let go and continued his ascent.

He had a point. Who could have qualified as a "better" patient than him when he'd given her so much? Even more than what they were doing tonight. His kindness. The love he had always shown her, even when she wasn't ready to see it. His strength, but also his vulnerability that she seemed to be the only one ever to see. Combine that with the fact that his mind was basically a steel trap for her every word and it would have made him more than perfect enough for her.

But as he broke away from her kiss to take off his jeans, she marveled at the shape and size of his whole body. Those thick, strong arms, the broad, defined torso, the massive, powerful legs of an avid runner, and a face that God Himself would probably be jealous of, if He was capable of the feeling. This gorgeous exterior that Michelangelo would have killed to sculpt, combined with all of his other amazing qualities, and he was almost too perfect.

He cuddled up next to her, reached up, and caressed her face, still flush with pleasure.

"I could look at this face, and nothin' else for…damn… hours. Maybe days."

She blushed and cast her eyes down, and half whispered, "The feeling is mutual."

"Then why're you lookin' away, darlin'?" he tilted her chin up. "That shy business is cute and all, but you don't have to hide from me, sweetheart."

"Again, it's not you, it's me." she chuckled, nervously.

"You wanna call it a night, for now?" he asked without a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"You're kidding, right?" she raised her eyebrows. "You did all that work getting me ready for you, and I won't let that be a wasted effort." she pulled him to her and into a deep kiss, rolling onto her back and bringing him with her.

"Oh, sugar, that wasn't no wasted effort. That was time well spent. No matter what." he said in short bursts when he could pull away from her lips.

He lifted himself up and over her, kneeling between her legs, already open for him. She thought he should know how ready she was. Thought it should be painfully obvious. But he asked anyway.

"You ready, sunshine?" he asked, as he opened the condom and rolled it on…damn he was slick! She hadn't even noticed him get it from wherever he'd had it. She presumed his jeans pocket, which would explain much. She had been very distracted by his naked perfection.

"Yes. Please." she had been struck with an urgency as they stood here on the verge of everything.

He sunk slowly into her, the contentment of coming home spread over his face, the bliss of being whole spreading over hers. No, she thought. She was more than whole. She'd always felt mostly whole during sex. Sy made her feel as though she was overflowing with herself. And not just because she was overflowing with him. The way he moved in her, over her, with her, it was like he was afraid she'd turn to vapor around him before he could finish. Like she was nothing more substantial than a bubble full of smoke, and he thought she may burst and disappear. Although, you couldn't tell from the tight grip he kept on her. A bruising grip that she thought might have had a chance of popping a football. She didn't care. She wanted him to touch and hold her like this until they had no more to give each other.

As they built toward their mutual undoing, the world and everything in it faded away. There was no personal drama or injury. Nothing but the euphoria of this newfound oneness. The caresses and thrusts and groans of pleasure were the only things that mattered. Each other, and what they found therein.

“Shane.” He whispered to her, his pinnacle nigh.

“Sy!” She whimpered, that familiar tension approaching its apex.

He kissed her, as if he meant to permanently emboss her onto the bedding and onto his lips. She reeled as she came undone, little sparks of light obscuring her vision for a fraction of a second. He followed her closely, breathless and spent.

He laid down beside her, as close to her as possible, and began drawing mindless circular patterns on her stomach and around her breasts.

“Wow.” She said, almost under her breath.

“How ya feelin,’ sunshine?”

“Mmm, boneless. Dazed. Half wishing we’d done that weeks ago. I didn’t have a clue what I was missing.”

“Oh, I think you had an idea.” He said as he neatly doffed and disposed of the prophylactic in the waste can by her bed.

“Okay, a bit.” She chuckled. “It’s not like you can hide that…thing.”

“And I don’t try to, darlin’!” He kissed her forehead “Well, I don’t hide it just anywhere, put it that way.” He smirked at his dirty joke and she swatted him for it.

“You’re bad!”

“And you love it.”

She couldn’t argue. She loved his badness and his goodness and everything in between.

Up Next: Chapter Eleven- Discharge Plan

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