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imthebadguyyy · 1 year ago

Text

Something Just Like This

pairing - charles leclerc x reader

fandom - f1

synopsis - a reflection on your relationship.

part - i (part ii)

warnings - talk about death, leukemia, badly translated french and the events may not be in order.

a/n - felt guilty for being away for so long so here's a wee little bit of a fic to make up for it!! all my love, always ♥️

when you were five,your dad had taken you to a go kart track in monaco, to watch a race with his childhood best friend, herve. having previously lived elsewhere, your trip to monaco with your parents was tremendously exciting, and you had nearly tripped over in your excitement at visiting a new country, and possibly making new friends. your dad had told you, "my friend has 3 sons himself, I'm sure you'll all get along very well"

so, you went, clutching your raggedy anne doll in one hand, and your model ferrari in the other, excitedly chattering away to your mummy and papa, eventually falling asleep on their shoulders.

when you awoke, you found yourself on a strange bed, with neither your doll nor your car beside you, and your parents seemed to have vanished too. the easy tears that had always been ready to spring to your eyes did their job, and your bottom lip began to wobble.

just before you could burst into tears, a pretty lady with kind eyes looked in at the door, and upon seeing your trembling lip, walked in with a soft coo.

"ma cherie, don't cry. are you looking for your maman and papa?" she asked, sitting down beside you.

"yes I am, do you know where they are?" you asked, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand as you spoke. "yes cherie, they're here, in the living room. im pascale, your parents friend! my husband, herve, is your dad's friend. come, let me introduce you"

and so you followed her to the living room, clutching into her finger for dear life, and the moment you spotted your parents, you ran to your mama, clambering into her lap and hiding your face in her hair.

"hello! are you y/n?" a little boy asked, with messy dark hair a sweet smile. you nodded, looking at him curiously. "I'm Lorenzo, but you can call me enzo!" he said with a smile. "hello" you mumbles softly, taking in your surroundings.

you took in the pretty apartment, with the bright sunlight and the pretty paintings, before something on the floor caught your eye.

there was another boy on the carpet, with brown hair and green eyes, who had in his clutch your missing ferrari toy.

"hey thats my car!" you exclaimed, sliding off your mother's lap to sit on the floor"

"that can't be your car, girls don't play with cars!" the boy exclaimed, holding it close.

"now charles, of course they can! and that is y/n's car so why don't you ask her if you can play with it together?" pascale interrupted, sensing a fight about to break out

"ok, im sorry y/n, can we share this car please? i love ferrari!" he exclaimed, flashing you a bright smile, and it was at that moment that your little five year old heart fell hard for the boy.

the two of you spent the afternoon together, playing with your ferrari and all his other cars, and laughing and giggling with lorenzo, and also playing with baby arthur.

your parents watched with smiles, realizing their children were forming life long bonds.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

no one could have foreseen how you would be joined at the hip forever after that. your parents moved to monaco for a job your dad got, and you started living just down the block from the leclerc's. that meant Saturday night dinners at either of your houses, and lazy Sundays spent at the beach or at go kart races.

you even went to the same school as the boys, with either of your parents picking you up and dropping you off.

as the years passed, you and charles got closer and closer, and it was a rare occasion where you weren't stuck at the hip.

you found in him the best friend you always wanted, funny, kind and caring, and always ready to have your back, something he proved on the very first day of school, when he punched a kid who pulled on your pigtails.

his parents weren't happy but when a tearful charles explained that "i couldn't let him hurt y/n/n!! i love her!!" pascale softened and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"you love her, do you?" she asked with a chuckle, when the boy nodded furiously. "she's my best friend, nobody should make her upset" he said determinedly, making his dad chuckle too.

"ok, mon fils, tu n'as pas de problèmes"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

on your sixteenth birthday, the leclercs joined your family for a special dinner on the beach. your dad rented a yacht and you guys had spent the day sailing on it, and trying to catch fish and swimming in the blue water. you had all laughed and screamed and lorenzo had taught you how to do a proper cannonball into the water. your mother's had scolded him for teaching you such unladylike things, and he in turn said "but she's y/n! no one's expecting her to be ladylike!" at which point you had dunked him in the water.

you tuckered each other out by swimming around, and participating in a chicken fight with the leclercs. it was you in charles' shoulder, and arthur on lorenzo's. of course, you won.

it reminded you of when you were children, always together, always messing around in some way or the other. but with Charles spending more and more time racing, you got to see the leclercs much lesser than you'd have liked to.

so communication with Charles became through letters, written to him when he went out of the country to race, with his dad and brother. pascale was a regular visitor but meeting charles had become something to be cherished, what with you busy trying to get auditions to be a singer.

in the years that had passed, you and charles had become extremely close, meeting each other whenever possible and becoming each others support system whenever the other needed it. so of course it was fitting that he was your designated best friend, your confidante, your favourite leclerc (but we won't tell arthur that)

so that night after dinner, when charles suggested you take a walk together on the beach, you thought nothing of it. not until he pulled out a small bracelet he had made, out of seashells, that you gasped, leaping into his arms for a tight hug.

"i want you to have something to remember me by when I go racing, ma jolie, i know I'm not always around, but this way you'll always have a piece of me with you, even if I'm not there" he whispered, dropping a small kiss you your forehead.

gentle kisses and hugs and touch were not unusual for you, it was your love language and it always had been, ever since you were kids.

but there had always been a lingering crush you had on him (and him on you but we'll talk about that later) and you felt your belly burn red hot when his lips dropped to your cheek.

you pulled him in close for a hug, hand running through his hair, freshly cut by his mother.

"merci, ma vie" you whispered, pressing a kiss to his wrist, and as the both of you stayed there, your head on his shoulder, his head on yours, cozy on a rug he had stolen, watching the beautiful monaco sunset, you swore you had never loved anyone as much as you had in that moment.

and charles realized it too, looking over at you, and how the sunset cast a golden hue on your mesmerizing eyes, and the way your hair shimmered softly, and your skin glowed bright, and he swore he had never seen a sight prettier, and his little teenage heart fell a little harder for the five year old who worse pigtails and loved ferrari as much as he did.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

however, your story wasn't always just sunshine and rainbows. when you were seventeen, your dad was diagnosed with leukemia.

the news came as a shock to you, especially when the doctor told you, he did not have strong chances of recovery even with the proper surgery and treatment. you'd never forget your mother's wail, as she sobbed over your father's fate, and how pascale and herve were there for her through it all, but for you, you couldn't breathe.

you ran to the park, crawling under the slide set, your breathing harsh and shallow. your eyes were blurring and every breath sent a sharp pain shooting down your chest. around you, the world seemed to spin and you closed your eyes, drawing your knees in, and begging your brain to stop, and pressing a hand to your chest.

before you knew it you were gasping, every gasp making you more and more dizzy, and your heart seemed to be banging against your chest to get out.

"am i dying?" you thought to yourself, labouring gasps echoing in the darkness.

"and am i hearing things?" you also asked yourself, because you could have sworn you heard charles' voice.

and lo and behold, he appeared, panting and sweaty, sinking down next to you, grabbing your sweaty hands in his own and pushing his forehead down to yours.

"cherie? ma jolie? regarde-moi s'il te plaît, regarde-moi. maman told me what happened. please cherie, breathe for me, i need you to breathe. peux-tu respirer pour moi?" he begged, rubbing your back slowly and pressing kisses to your nose.

slowly, your breathing slowed down, but as it did, tears began to stream down your face, and ugly sobs wracked your body.

Charles felt his heart break, watching the strongest girl he knew break down in his arms, tears and sweat pooling on his shirt as you sobbed.

"i know, Cherie, i know" he whispered, his own eyes glazing over. he loved your dad as much as your dad loved him, and he couldn't believe it when his mother told him the news. he pulled you in even closer, so you were straddling his lap, and kept rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings to you.

"papa, il va mourir et il va nous laisser maman et moi seules" you wailed into his shoulder and he shushed you gently.

"no no no, cherie, listen to me, please?" he asked, pulling your chin up, heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and runny nose.

you nodded slowly, still hiccupping, but letting him pull you into his chest.

"y/n, i cannot tell you what the future holds for your papa. but I can promise you that you and mama will never be alone, ever. even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there, not while maman is there, not while papa is there, and not while lorenzo and arthur are there. you are my family, y/n, and family sticks together. I'm here for you, always" he whispered.

you looked at him, your heartbroken eyes looking into his sincere green ones, seeing the same pain reflected in them. and in that moment, you knew it was right when you leaned in, and he did too.

your lips met that cold, dark, rainy evening, under the shade of the slide set in the park, but your souls had intertwined when you were five, and you could have sworn you had never felt more alive than you did at the moment.

and while your heart broke and sagged with the weight of losing your father so soon, it also ached with love at having charles with you. so when you drew back, still tasting, the salty tears you both had shed, he pulled you back in for a tighter hug.

"toujours là pour toi cherie, toujours."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you lost your dad the following year, in 2016, and charles was by your side at the funeral, watching you cry as you placed a white rose on his casket.

you had never spoken about that kiss again, and neither of you had thought it was the right time to bring it up in the months that followed.

charles watched as your mother, the woman he so admired, crumbled before him, lost without her guiding light. is that how it would ever be if you ever lost him?

the fear that coursed through his heart shocked him. he couldn't imagine what it would be like, to loose someone he loved so dearly.

his father had taken over as a surrogate father for you, and constant support for your mother. but the leclercs knew something that you didn't, their father wasn't keeping very well either, but no one had the heart to tell the l/n's, not when you were already suffering through so much.

after the funeral, there was a small tea at your own house, but you couldn't bear to be there. so at the first opportunity, you slipped away, leaving your mother in pascales care.

you ran, not caring where, until you found yourself at the beach. you sat down, pulling off your shoes and throwing your hat away, before sinking down on your knees to the sand.

you sobbed, salty tears dripping down your face, holding the locket your dad gave you in your hands, and once again, a familiar smell filled your nose as a warm body settled in next to you. charles.

"hi cherie" he whispered, wrapping an arm around you.

"hello" you whispered, mustering up a small smile.

"ma courageuse fille" he whispered softly, making you giggle and sob at the same time.

"i have to be strong for maman" you admitted. "she has no one but me in this world anymore" you whispered, eyes blurring again.

"she has us, always" charles said determinedly. "and we aren't going anywhere" he said, taking your hand in his.

and as the sun set once again, you reminicsed about a simpler, sweeter time, when you and charles where carefree and innocent, not scarred by life and it's harsh realities.

there was something special in that sunset, you noted, resting your head on charles shoulder again. perhaps your papa was trying to indicate that charles was the one for you.

but at the moment, sitting by the beach, in a moment of joined sorrow, you had never felt more human.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

with charles growing success in f2, and you finally getting a record deal, life was going well.

until you were told that herve was not doing well. denial flooded your brain. no. how was this possible? how could god take both the father's in your life to disease and illness?

you screamed and wailed and cursed, too stung, too bitter, about life.

and then the day came, in 2017. when pascale called you sobbing and lorenzo came to your door knocking wildly.

"c'est papa,il ne se réveille pas !! tante laura, qu'est-ce qu'on fait?!'

your mom was out the door in an instant and you followed, following a heartbroken lorenzo to the door of the house you knew so well.

you could hear pascales wails before you even reached, and the easy tears rose again but you forced them down.

you had to be strong for your second family, and with a deep breath, you pushed the door in.

what you saw broke you.

charles, sobbing on the sofa, head in his hands, while arthur sat next to his mother, in tears.

your mother dealt with all the formalities but you stuck to charles, letting him cry into your shoulder, holding him the hold day, whispering how much you loved him and how sorry you were to him, and promising him that he wasn't alone.

you comforted arthur too, holding the boy in your arms, wrapping him in the tightest hug.

you had never felt more respect for Lorenzo, ever the big brother, tears streaming down him face, even though he stayed so strong for his family.

later that evening, you held charles in their balcony, wrapped in a blanket that you had knitted for him.

"i feel so hollow, so empty" he admitted, burying his face deeper into your neck, trying his best to stay grounded by inhaling the scent of your perfume.

"i feel as if a piece of my heart has been snatched away and I'll never be okay again" he admitted, tears filling his eyes for the hundredth time that day.

"i know, charles, believe me I know" you whispered softly to him, running your hands through his hair, "but a wise boy I know once told me, that I was never ever going to be alone. he told me 'even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there' and today charles, I am saying the same to you. i know that it hurts like anything right now and that pain will never go away"

"feel that pain charles. it's what makes you human, ma vie,and i know it hurts. but I am here for you. take out all your pain and I will be there to catch you when you fall. i will be there to put you back together when you fall apart. i am here for you ma vie, always" you whispered to him, and he choked out a sob, curling himself into you, never more sure of his love for you.

"i lied and told him I got the ferrari seat" he finally choked out, and with a soft whisper of "oh charles" you pulled him in close.

there it was.

the reason why he felt like his soul was being eaten up inside.

"charles, mon coeur, i promise, you will get that ferrari seat. it will be soon, and you will have kept that promise to your papa, i have a feeling mon coeur, that your future in formula 1 will be as bright and shiny as you, and you are going to get everything you deserve, i know you will"

and he chose to take solace in your words.

just like he took solace in your soul.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you made your formula 2 debut alongside charles at Baku that year. everyday you were left more in awe of the powerful force that he was, ready to race in less than a week, because he felt he owed it to the man who made him who he was.

so you told him you'd go with him, be his support and be there for him when he needed you to most.

and you were left spellbound yet again, at his talent, his resilience, his drive, his passion.

p fucking 1. at a race that meant the world to him.

and as he ran towards you after, body colliding with yours so hard you swear some of your bones snapped, you told him everything you had to in your embrace.

rough racing gloves on delicate skin, frenzied pulling closer and harsh breathing. thats all you remembered from the moment, looking deep into his emerald ,knowing the media was having a field day.

"I'm so so so so proud of you so fucking proud" you whispered. "and i know your dad is too" you continued, pressing a small kiss to his helmet.

when he stood on the podium, tears streamed down your cheeks. you were so so so proud of him.

and as he looked down at you, he smiled, knowing you were always going to be his brightest star.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Charles' journey is formula 1 started with Sauber but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't stay there.

when kimi announced he was leaving ferrari, you called charles and screamed into his ears "YOURE GOING TO GET THAT FUCKING SEAT MARK MY WORDS" and he had simply chuckled saying he was hoping for the best.

so when in the middle of recording a song, your phone rang with charles' name, you dropped everything you were doing and picked up the phone.

"je l'ai fait. j'ai eu le siège"

"quoi?"

"le siège ferrari. j'ai compris. c'est à moi. je vais être pilote de ferrari pour 2019"

the scream you let out was so loud your producer jumped out of his skin.

"I'm so proud of you!! J'ai toujours su que tu l'aurais, tu mérites le monde et plus encore!!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face and you heard charles laugh.

"merci, mon cherie. i will celebrate with you soon" he chuckled.

"obviously you will!! I'll be home soon, let me just finish this album first and then I am all yours" you laughed.

oh how you longed to be all his. it's all you'd ever wanted since you were a teenager.

charles' heart ached.

oh how he longed for you to be all his. it was all he'd ever wanted since he was a teenager.

later that day, you wrote the song feels like.

social media had a breakdown.

charles had a breakdown.

but that's mainly because he'd rather you wrote a love song about him.

unbeknownst to him, you had atleast a 100 lovesongs written about him.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

clicking your pen for the hundredth time, you let out a sigh.

this songwriting thing was so frustrating.

it seemed like you had a billion ideas but nothing compact came out of it.

with a deep sigh, you let your hand crash against the piano, letting the discordant notes ring in your apartment.

but the ending caught your attention.

humming, you grabbed your pen again, jotting down, scribbling down all the things you wanted to say but never would.

being a singer had always been, and just as charles was flourishing in his career, you were flourishing in yours. you had already won a grammy for your album 'nostalgia' and had won amas, Brit awards, and 2 vma awards.

'the rising star of pop' was what they affectionately called you.

you had stunned the world with your versatility and range and the depth of your songs. ballads like gravity and last kiss had shown your emotional depth. songs like when I get there and make you feel my love had showing your delicate, romantic, vulnerable side. songs like happier reflected your pain.

your song fat funny friend had shot you into the global scene when you released it as a single. millions of fans wrote to you, thanking you for being vulnerable so others could feel seen.

and of course, no one picked up on the secret ballads for charles, pinning it down to young love and romance that was usual for all people your age.

so as you finally finished the song and smiled, you knew they wouldn't guess for this one either.

but you would know.

and so you sent it to be your next single.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

summer break rolled around, and you had a new mission - confessing your feelings for charles.

you were sure the timing was right.

you had to tell your best friend in the whole world that you were madly in love with him.

you told pascale, who squealed and told you "welcome to the family officially!!' earning a laugh from you.

"let me tell the boy first maman, then I'll tell you what he says"

"of course he'll say he loves you too! i know my son cherie, he's been in love with you since you were children, he's just too stupid to do anything about it" she joked affectionately and you laughed.

"j'espere que tu as raison maman. i love him very much" you admitted, blushing a little.

"of course darling. come to dinner tonight, everyone will be there, you can tell him then" she smiled, and you got up to go get dressed, pressing two kisses to her cheek.

back home, you nervously scouted your cupboard to see what you could wear. you showered and washed your hair, and put on a red dress that charles had gifted you when he got his seat.

smiling at the memory, you put on your makeup, did your hair and took a deep breath.

you were really going to do it. you were going to tell the man you had loved your whole life that you loved him.

the drive to the leclercs house was nerve wracking, and ringing the doorbell to their home was even more nerve wracking. you saw lorenzo there already, and he rose to greet you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"how are you y/n? i haven't spoken to you in a long time no?" he asked, sitting down next to you.

"I'm good enzo, very busy with recording. howve you been? I'm sorry i haven't been keeping in touch, I've just been very busy" you apologised, feeling guilty for not spending a lot of time with the oldest Leclerc.

"don't be silly, soeur, i understand you are busy. and your music, it's been a joy to listen to. you're truly a talent, ma belle" he said, and you could feel yourself getting emotional.

"aw, enzo, meri beaucoup, votre avis est très important pour moi" you said, giving him another hug.

he poured you a glass of wine, a small smile playing on his lips.

"so, is tonight finally the night?" he asked with a smirk, remembering how smitten you were for his brother.

you blushed, taking a sip of your wine to cover for it.

"yes, I'm going to tell him tonight" you admitted and he flashed you a warm smile of encouragement.

"Tell who what?" a voice interrupted, and the youngest leclerc plopped himself down next to you.

"y/n/n's going to tell charlie she loves him" lorenzo stated matter of factly, making you Tut and whack his arm.

"quoi? are we not telling arthur?" he asked, feigning hurt.

"i was going to tell him" you whined and then you turned to arthur.

"you must swear to not bring this up until it's over okay?" you told arthur, trying and failing to be stern.

arthur pretended to be hurt.

"of course I won't? what do you take me for, a gossip box?"

"yes" you and lorenzo chimed in unison.

arthur gasped dramatically, making you roll your eyes.

"do you really think that low of me?" he asked, pretending to cover his eyes in agony.

"yes, now shush, i think i heard the bell ring" Lorenzo said, getting up to open the door.

you bit your lip nervously, preparing for charles to walk in the day.

and he did. he looked gorgeous as ever, in a shirt the cover of deep red wine, hair tousled by the wind on his drive, but his eyes and smile were as bright as ever.

your heart started beating so fast you swore you almost had a heart attack.

but nothing could have prepared you for what he said next.

"everyone, i want you to meet charlotte"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:��ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n - aaaand drum roll please 🥁 cliffhanger!!

i promise i won't leave you hanging but this was getting too long and it needed some ✨spice✨ i know this wasn't the best and the timeline wasnt cohesive but I needed to get this out of my system so pls go easy on your girl.

feedback, comments,opinions, reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🩷

hope you had a good read!! much love always xoxo

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everything - @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird @roslastyles420

f1 - @theonly1outof-a-billion

to be added to the taglist send me an ask, dm or comment 🩷

masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #Charles Leclerc imagines #Charles Leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #f1 imagines #f1 drivers x reader #f1 drivers #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #cl #cl16

459 notes · View notes

andreal831 · 4 months ago

Note

I am so mad we didn’t get real mommy issues Elijah. Like we can read into it but no storyline abt him with his parents. When he went to Esther after the ball to apologise for his younger siblings’ behaviour and Esther cupped his cheek, THE FACE HE MADEEE. Like he made Esther doubt her plan for a second, he also out of all his siblings wanted to be a real family the most he wanted it to work sm. They didn’t even show us him that disappointed at Esther’s real plan.

I often wonder if Elijah's mommy issues are worse than his daddy issues. I could write a book on how badly they both messed all of their children up, but particularly Elijah.

As you said, you can tell this by his characterization, however, a lot of people overlook it because he is not as blatant with it as other's, namely Klaus. But how he interacts with everyone and even the relationships he has show just how badly these issues are.

From the flashbacks, and even his present day actions, you can tell that a lot was put on Elijah from a very young age. He feels personally responsible for his siblings. Not only their well-being but their behavior. The scene you pointed out perfectly shows this. I had to go back and make a gif of it. Esther is actively planning to kill her children and tells Elijah that she "wish[ed] the others were more like [Elijah]." Elijah doesn't fully get the gravity of it, but as the audience we do. Maybe if the others were more like Elijah, Esther wouldn't feel the need to kill them all. The pressure this simple 'compliment' puts on Elijah to keep his siblings in line is indicative of the guidance he has gotten his whole life. If he could keep his siblings well behaved, bad things would stop happening to them.

People call out his suits and his "cleanliness" but it's literally a trauma response. Esther, at one of the lowest moments in his life, used magic and told him that if he kept himself clean, everything would be okay. She then emphasizes this by coming back to life and reminding him that he is the 'moral' son, even knowing everything she knows about him.

This is reinforced when just a couple of years later, Esther imprisons and tortures Elijah, calling him a monster. She had all of the same knowledge in TVD as she did in TO. We can blame it on bad writing, but it's canon, so if we are accepting it as is, it's pure manipulation. It was a reminder from her that he allowed himself and his siblings to slip and that made him a monster.

Elijah throughout the shows struggles to connect with anyone in a meaningful way. Even those he loves outside of his family are easily discarded when necessary. While he feels guilty and lonely doing so, he does not hesitate to protect his family. The entirety of 'always and forever' is based on the fact that Esther and Mikael raised them to believe that their family was more important than anyone else. They were willing to anger nature in order to protect their family. To Elijah, that literally meant his siblings lives mattered more than anyone, including himself.

He so desperately wanted a family, wanted his family, to be happy and together. Yes, he makes plenty of mistakes along the way, but his underlying impulse is to protect his family. He wanted to make his parents proud, he wanted their love, but we never see him receive it. Even as a child, he is basically discarded. Elijah struggles with his self worth because of this. He even tells Hayley he has no purpose to his family if he isn't fighting to save them. He feels he has no worth outside of his role in saving his family.

Esther's neglect left lasting wounds in Elijah that are only brought up on occasion and then quickly glossed over. Even after he found out what he did to Tatia, we get like one episode for Elijah to grieve and then it shifts to him begging Klaus for forgiveness for some reason. Elijah never has a moment to just feel. His pain is always deprioritized in order to support his family.

Thanks for the ask!

#elijah mikealson #esther mikaelson #tvdu #the originals #the vampire diaries #the mikaelsons #anon ask #fandom answers #tvd ask #tvd #tvd anon ask #fandom asks #tvdu metas #metas #anonymous #andrea831 metas #andrea831 metas elijah #andrea831 metas mikaelson #andrea831 metas esther

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 months ago

Note

Lemme get on the Theo hcs

•First of all, he's obviously a mama's boy. He adores her, thinks she hung the moon and the stars and doesn't care if other boys his age think it's uncool. He's so sweet and reassuring (all his mom's work, obvs) that it was the only thing that soothed her those nights when she was barely an adult and thought she was doing everything wrong.

• I think the first time he showed his powers (I'm taking the energy blasts and shields, idc) it was bc his bio dad tried to hurt her and the fear and adrenaline took over and triggered his powers. He was even younger than he was now and so scared😭😭😭

• Everyone, EVERYONE, in the mansion loves him. Especially the adults because they think he's adorable and he capitalizes on it. I think Jean, Rogue and Storm are absolutely charmed by him because he's the youngest there's ever been there, usually they show up in the mansion around puberty, but HE'S JUST A BABY, the girls all love him because he's so polite and cute. Logan tries to be stern with him because nobody else will on the rare occasion he gets in trouble, but he will pout and all he'll get is a sigh and

'Just don't do it again.'

*eyes lighting up* 'okay, Mr. Logan'

MY LOVE I AM KISSING YOU ON THE FOREHEAD AND ALSO SQUEALING AT THE SAME TIME-

THIS! THIIIIIS! ❤️

Oh my God you're a genius and I'm gonna fangirl over you❤️😍

SO FIRST OF ALL-

Theo as a mama's boy aaaaaaah this is so cute! ❤️ I totally agree that he'd be such a proud mama's boy even if his friends think it's uncool, he's such a precious beannnn🥰 And I think he talks about her nonstop too, like if he asked someone for anything, he would immediately go like,

"Please and thank you!"

"That's very polite of you, Theo. Who taught you that?"

"My mom. She says- she says it's important that we're nice to people."

"She's right."

"She's always right!"

Btw, "it was the only thing that soothed her those nights when she was barely an adult and thought she was doing everything wrong." EXCUSE ME WHILE I CRY ABOUT THIS-

I think the first time he showed his powers (I'm taking the energy blasts and shields, idc) it was bc his bio dad tried to hurt her and the fear and adrenaline took over and triggered his powers. AAAAAAA YOU'VE READ MY MIND! 😍

That's exactly why his powers showed that early on! He didn't even know what he was doing, he just wanted to protect her 🥺 And she feels so so sooo guilty about it 🥺

I think Jean, Rogue and Storm are absolutely charmed by him because he's the youngest there's ever been there, usually they show up in the mansion around puberty, but HE'S JUST A BABY, the girls all love him because he's so polite and cute. Logan tries to be stern with him because nobody else will

GALAXY BRAIN MY LOVE, GALAXY BRAIN! ❤️ I am cracking up, this is amazing! 😂

First of all, Theo being the baby of the mansion YES! 🥰 And Logan trying to be stern 😂 Theo would totally get away with it, and then the next time he got in trouble, he would be blinking up at Logan with wide eyes, the picture of cuteness and Logan would go like,

"Listen kid, we talked about this. You...Jean, what does he have?"

"Nothing, he's too cute."

"Detention. You have detention."

"Logan!"

"Storm, he and his friends blew up the library wall."

"I'm sure there's an explanation for that, right Theo?"

"It was an accident, ma'am."

"Aw, see? An accident."

"And we're supposed to call your mom-"

"Please don't, Mr. Logan. She will be sad if she hears I got in trouble."

"...Yeah okay no, not calling her then."

ILY AND YOUR IDEAS SO MUCH ADSFGHJKL YOU'RE AMAZING, THANK YOU SO MUCH😍😍😍

#sunshine hcs

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comikadraws · 7 months ago

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Sasuke and the Final Battle

Alright! So personally, I dislike the conclusion that Sasuke's character got in canon. Here's why!

I am putting in pluses between panels to ensure nobody thinks those panels belong together.

The premise of the battle is as follows: Sasuke, motivated by the loss of his family, comes up with a plan to rectify the injustice he experienced which involves killing Naruto - not just because it promises him the power he seeks but also because he wants to cut that bond. It's a direct parallel to the first VotE fight.

Now, I still think Sasuke deserved better and I am very sorry to all Sasuke fans, but we need to get this one out of the way first.

While Sasuke's plans in the first VotE fight made a lot of sense, here, in the second fight, they are downright insane. He essentially plans to take over the world, become a dictator, and maintain his rule in neverending loneliness by becoming immortal. It doesn't need a genius to see that this should probably be considered tyrannical and self-destructive. And yes, he absolutely needed someone to knock some sense into him. But please keep in mind that the degree of Sasuke's insanity is a deliberate choice of the writer. A plot device for picking sides.

And it also makes a lot of sense for Konoha to be wary of him. Outside of this fight, he switched sides like five times. That's not something that would make you look particularly trustworthy or reliable.

It makes sense for Sasuke to feel guilty for his actions. He tried to kill his friends and comrades on multiple occasions. That's not something anybody would feel proud of.

But now, here are the issues I have with this battle and its conclusion:

Sasuke's core motivation is being glossed over

There's a huge bias going on in favor of Konoha and Naruto

Sasuke's sudden change of heart is abrupt and inconsistent with his character

The conclusion of Sasuke's character only exists in theory

Core Motivation

Sasuke's core motivation is the injustice experienced by the victims of the Uchiha massacre. His pain, loneliness, or even his wish for change are merely symptomatic, yet they are the only motivations ever acknowledged throughout the battle - even by Sasuke himself. I repeat: The systemic injustice that caused the massacre gets borderline ignored.

And if you ask me, there's a reason for that. Naruto needs to physically and ideologically defeat Sasuke - preferably without looking like the bad guy for shutting down a victim's cry for change and justice. But that only works by erasing and not ever talking about the corruption of the system. As a consequence, only Sasuke's "symptoms" remain - his detachment from everyone, the pain he embraces and causes, the unrealistic demands he has - and he ends up looking insane to the reader.

But defeating Sasuke and reducing his motivation to insanity like that, not acknowledging and condemning the injustice that motivates him, can only come at the cost of his depth, authenticity, and readability as a character.

The Konoha Bias

This also makes Kishimoto seem incredibly biased when it comes to Konoha. The crimes the village has committed, be it genocide, slavery, or child abuse, usually merely fulfill the purpose of "sad backstories" rather than being given the time and dignity to be properly identified, criticized, and rectified in the story. Injustice is allowed to be a character motivation or a flavor in the story, but it is not allowed to be a theme. That is no different here. Sasuke's traumas (though not their origin) are used to inform his actions but not shown as the result of the depravity of the system.

Aside from this linking back to Sasuke's character being deprived of his ideological value in the story (due to being a victim of the system and demanding change), this lack of attention and awareness toward the injustice reads like propaganda from an irl perspective. These are some of the most contemptworthy acts in existence we are talking about. And yet Konoha gets away unscathed.

Meanwhile, Sasuke, who is seemingly the only person demanding change, is intentionally characterized as "crazy", inevitably invalidating him and his desire for change. It basically reads as "yes, this system is rotten but everybody wanting to change it is evil". Change becomes evil by association. It's disheartening, demoralizing, and disappointing.

The Change of Heart

Now let's take a look at how his character actually progresses during this battle.

Sasuke wants to change the world even if that means killing Naruto or being lonely

Sasuke re-evaluates his relationship with Naruto

Sasuke realizes he no longer wants to kill Naruto or be lonely even if that means the world never changes

Now. Rethinking his self-destructive approach is, without question, a positive change. But that is not the problem here.

The problem is that this change in his character occurs rather unprompted. Sasuke, the entirety of the story, has ignored his own suffering in favor of justice. He has ignored every single character crying over him or telling him that they don't want him to ruin or endanger himself. But then Naruto basically says "it hurts to watch you suffer" and Sasuke suddenly rethinks his entire ideology. Naruto is basically only treating one of Sasuke's symptoms but not their origin.

This is unrealistic for his character and hurts his coherence (as well a invalidating him). It is a forced plot convenience to avoid any sort of compromise between Naruto and Sasuke. Both because Naruto has to come out on top due to genre conventions and also because Konoha cannot be questioned.

Missing Conclusion

Furthermore, this results in Sasuke's arc never coming to an actual "conclusion". As a victim, he should have been given justice. As someone who was supposedly suffering under his loneliness, he should have been given companionship. As a villain, somebody should have pointed out his hypocrisy and the wrongs he has committed.

None of that happened. Sasuke is not given justice and is even incarcerated in the most undignified and dehumanizing fashion possible in the anime. Afterward, he takes off alone. So in the end, even the "power of friendship" resolution that Kishimoto attempted to write only occurred on a surface level and failed in its execution. Sasuke is not changed because he realizes he is a hypocrite and doing more harm than good but because of a plot convenience. Sasuke internalized none of what he supposedly learned and practically had no conclusion whatsoever. He is still suffering. Nothing has changed.

The Point

And at this point, I'm just wondering "what was the point?". Clearly, the point of Sasuke's character wasn't to explore the darkness of the shinobi system. And it wasn't to seek justice for the horrors it has committed. It also wasn't about helping Sasuke heal from any of the hardships he's endured. Of course, all of these points were acknowledged by the story but never truly dealt with. A story can make as many promises as it wants and still follow up on none.

The point was, unfortunately, to be Naruto's trophy. Naruto is the main character, therefore he must remain ideologically unchallenged and perfect, he must have the strongest jutsu arsenal and he must have the most unwavering determination. Even if that means bending the other characters to the plot's needs. Sasuke is, thanks to genre conventions, not allowed to be right and Naruto cannot be wrong. A compromise or any justice at all become impossible unless they are a perfect match for Naruto's ideas of compromise and justice. While this doesn't mean that Kishimoto didn't care for Sasuke's story, Naruto's goal of saving Sasuke and becoming Hokage played a bigger role as compared to Sasuke's of changing the shinobi system, to the point that the latter was ignored whenever it inconvenienced Konoha's image.

#being a German who took advanced level history classes I feel very strongly about Kishi's depiction of Konoha #it just irks me in all the wrong ways #and it also reminds me of the bullshit Japan pulls when it comes to acknowledging THEIR war crimes #this was originally in response to another post #but i figured i was probably focusing on entirely different aspects than the original poster was #so i made my own post #naruto #valley of the end #anti naruto ending #sasuke uchiha #anti kishimoto #anti konoha #naruto discussion

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blackmetalbats · 4 months ago

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Dies Irae

I am so sorry but i did a deep dive on the Dies Irae because of the last malevolent episode and now its gonna be all of you's problem.

one of the oldest and most frequently borrowed of all melodies is the ecclesiastical plainsong to the sequence 'Dies Irae', because of the theme's intrinsic merit, but also its liturgical associations. No record of its origin remains, but both words and melody appear to have been suggested by a passage from the Respond ' Libera me, Domine', which follows the Requiem Mass (catholic mass for the dead) on solemn occasion.

SOURCE: Gregory, R. (1953). “Dies Irae.” http://www.jstor.org/stable/730837

the Requiem Mass contained several special components; the Dies Irae was one of these, formally added to the Mass in 1570. Its text was penned by Thomas of Celano during the late 11th or early 12th century, and it offers a graphic depiction of the horrors of Judgment Day for sinners. the New Catholic Encyclopedia states that

"The medieval Sequence stresses fear of judgment and condemnation."

SOURCE: Brooks, E. (2003). "The Dies Irae ("Day of Wrath") and Totentanz ("Dance of Death"): Medieval Themes Revisited in 19th Century Music and Culture." https://scholarworks.uark.edu/inquiry/vol4/iss1/5

Centre panel from Memling's tryptich Last Judgment (c. 1467–1471)

the text contains three basic references:

(1) Zephaniah 1:15,16

That day is a day of wrath, a day of trouble and distress, a day of wasteness and desolation, a day of darkness and gloominess, a day of clouds and thick darkness, a day of the trumpet and alarm, against the fortified cities, and against the high battlements.

(2) II Peter 3:10-12

But the day of the Lord will come as a thief; in which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall be dissolved with fervent heat, and the earth and the works that are therein shall be burned up. Seeing that these things are thus all to be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy living and godliness, looking for and earnestly desiring the coming of the day of God, by reason of which the heavens being on fire shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat?

(3) finally, the judgment portion of Matthew 25 is cited as part of the scriptural basis for the "Dies Irae."

THE TEXT, in an english translation from the original latin

Day of wrath and doom impending, David's word with Sibyl blending! Heaven and earth in ashes ending!

O, what fear man's bosom rendeth, When from heaven the Judge descendeth. On whose sentence all dependeth!

Wondrous sound the trumpet flingeth, Through earth's sepulchers it ringeth. All before the throne it bringeth.

Death is struck, and nature quaking, All creation is awaking. To its Judge an answer making.

Lo! the book exactly worded. Wherein all hath been recorded; Thence shall judgment be awarded.

When the Judge His seat attaineth, And each hidden deed arraigneth. Nothing unavenged remaineth.

What shall I, frail man, be pleading ? Who for me be interceding. When the just are mercy needing?

King of majesty tremendous, Who dost free salvation send us. Fount of pity, then befriend us!

Think, kind Jesus! my salvation Caused Thy wondrous Incarnation; Leave me not to reprobation.

Faint and weary Thou hast sought me. On the Cross of suffering bought me; Shall such grace be vainly brought me ?

Righteous Judge! for sin's pollution Grant Thy gift of absolution. Ere that day of retribution.

Guilty, now I pour my moaning. All my shame with anguish owning; Spare, O God, Thy suppliant groaning!

Through the sinful woman shriven. Through the dying thief forgiven. Thou to me a hope has given.

Worthless are my prayers and sighing. Yet, good Lord, in grace complying, Rescue me from fires undying.

With Thy favored sheep O place me, Nor among the goats abase me. But to Thy right hand upraise me.

While the wicked are confounded. Doomed to flames of woe unbounded. Call me with Thy Saints surrounded.

Low I kneel, with heart submission. Crushed to ashes in contrition; Help me in my last condition!

Ah! that day of tears and mourning! From the dust of earth returning, Man for judgment must prepare him;

Spare, O God, in mercy spare him! Lord all-pitying, Jesu Blest, Grant them Thine eternal rest.

the first six stanzas describe the Judgment. the other stanzas are lyric in character, expressing anguish of one of the multitude there present in spirit; his pleading before the Judge who, while on earth, sought him unceasingly over the hard and thorny ways from Bethlehem to Calvary; and now, in anticipation of the Judgment, pleads before a Savior of infinite mercy, who, on Judgment Day, will be a Judge of infinite justice, before whom scarcely the just will be secure.

SOURCE: Demaray, D. E. (1965). "Thomas of Celano and the" Dies Irae". https://place.asburyseminary.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=2018&context=asburyjournal

#idk i just like doing research and i thought i might just do a service for the community #i love you all malevolent mutuals and malevolent people btw #dies irae #malevolent #malevolent 44 #malevolent spoilers #arthur lester #john malevolent #blackmetalbats

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saturnbellfromhell · 1 year ago

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SKINCARE TIPS part II.

Hello my lovlies, welcome back to a new post! I wanted to come back with something easy and fresh for the beginning of the colder season, since I'm guilty for not taking care of my skin in the fall as much as I am in the summer time. So I want to make a quick post about skincare once again. If you have any questions leave then bellow, I always anwser! With that being said let's get into the post shall we?

〰️ DISCLAIMER

I'm am not a certified dermatologist/cosmetologist, I highly advise to go to one if your having a hard time with your skin! With that being said, let's get into the post. 🕊

TIPS AND TRICKS

I. INTUITIVE SKINCARE

Now I know in the first post I talked about skincare cycling and how that can help to stay on track and it's also very beginner friendly to understand the process and the products that go together. But as time goes and you get into skincare you'll soon realize how good it is to monitor and understand your skin. Some days it will be very dry and patchy and some days it will be immensely oily and clogged. That's why I always recommend having two sets of skincare for different occasions. I work in an environment where my face gets dry patches after a few days, so on those nights I reach for my soothing cleanser and heavier moisturizer. If you're forgetful like me, you can also put an alarm in your calender for monitoring, this also helps me out on those busy weeks.

II. HYGIENE AROUND YOUR SKINCARE

I know many people who don't change their towels, wash cloths after a few days and I'm not saying you're dirty for that, I'm just suggesting you should try changing them everyday. I have 7 wash clothes, which I use once a day (morning and night) and I clean all of them together only with my sheets on the highest temperature. I also stopped washing them with softener, since this can lead to build up over time. If you're worried they will seem stiff, add some white vinegar, they fluff up towels real nice! I advise all my closest friends with acne prone skin to try this out or just use boxed tissues, even though this can be a little pricey and not eco friendly. Not a fan of makeup remover wipes anyway... to add on to this make sure to buy products with pumps so you don't scoop your hands into the product, even if they've been cleaned. Old skin, dust particles and such can get into the product.

III. OVER EXFOLIATING

I know you've heard people say this a million times, but is really is the case, especially if you have reactive/sensitive skin. Stop using exfoliating products more than twice a week. What this can do is a plethora of bad things. From stripping all the natural oils from your skin to dehydrating it, to making it more sensitive than it was before. Patience is the key here.

IV. RETINOL USE

When talking about patience, the first thing that pops up in my head is retinol, because o boy do you need a lot of patience for this. It can seem very intimidating at first but if you stick with simple steps the purging will not be so bad. Retinol makes skin cells turn over faster, by doing so when you start using it, it will push out more dirt than usual. This is the reason people stop using it. They payed so much for this product and now they have to look at a million blemishes popping out of nowhere. Our skin doesn't like big changes and retinol is a big shock to our skin from the start. So I advise in the beginning doing it once a week. I used to have retinol Sundays and yes I did purge, but not so much I had to stop. A pimple or two a week I would say, and with that I would just put pimple patches on them and it would resolve the issue.

Rules for retinol:

1. Never use retinol in the morning, it degrades in the sun. So you're throwing your money down the drain.

2. Don't mix it with vitamin C, salicylic acid and benzoyl peroxide. Yes you can have a skin day where you exfoliate with salicylic acid, but than have a recovery day after. In the same day, I wouldn't recommend it for the majority of people.

3. Never use more than a pea sized amount for a long period of time. Your skin needs to get used to the dosage.

4. I know the "sandwich" method is really popular right now with retinols, but I advise the old fashioned route. Sandwithing is putting a moisturizer before and after a retinol. I like to use a heavy moisturizer after the retinol and that's it. Even if you have acne prone skin, a heavier cream is necessary beacuse retinols dry out skin.

5. Don't apply to damp skin. Even though it may seem like a logical step, it does more damage than good. When applying a retinol to damp skin it penetrates deeper. So this can be quite irritating for your skin.

6. Don't forget the neck area and also your hands!

7. In the beginning do it only once a week and than after a month/two crank it up to twice a week. Really monitor your skin when cranking up the volume of retinol to see if you need to still hold back. Please please please dont rush this step. It's better to hold back a week or two than rushing.

8. Invest in a good sunscreen after getting into retinol and apply it every morning, reapplying every 2-3 hours when doing outdoor activities. If you work only indoor apply in the morning and the moment you exit your work place...that'll do it.

V. SUNSCREEN

For the longest time I didn't invest in some sort of good sunscreen, I have no idea why to be honest with. I guess I was just lazy to be honest. Sunscreen is the most important item to have in your skincare bag. All this money can be spent on creams, toners, moisturizers, retinols and so on...but it means nothing when you don't have UV protection for your skin.

VI. MORE IS MORE

Many think if they have an oily face that they can moisterize less or even not at all. The trick is to find a cream/moisturizer that is not heavy or that clogs your pores. Most of the time you will damage and cause even more blackheads/whiteheads if you don't moisturize because your skin will increase your sebum production. More is more, try out toners as well for amazing hydration!

Also be sure to know that there are 2 types of sunscreen: chemical and mineral.

🖤 Chemical Suncscreens absorb UV rays, acting like a sponge. It's better for oily/acne prone skin because they are lighter than mineral one's. With this being said if you break out easily, you can also try chemical sunscreens. Chemical sunscreens have ingredients like OXYBENZONE, AVOBENZONE and OCTOCRYLENE.

🖤 Minereal Sunscreens reflect UV rays of the skin, they are more suited for babies, sensitive skin and also pregnant women! The ingredients that are in minereal sunscreens are ZINC OXIDE AND TITANIUM DIOXIDE.

IV. BEGINNER ROUTINES

I struggled with this a lot, not even going to lie. When the whole world is just throwing so many products at your face and you just don't know where to begin. What chemicals go together, what is better in the day time, what products should you spurge on etc... I had many problems in the beginning because I was introducing so much to my skin. So I'm going to give a few examples for a beginner skincare routine with some of my favorite products so you don't need to struggle. Also I go by the this too when I'm feeling lazy and don't want to put 10 products on my face.

🖤MORNING

For daytime I recommend just the simple cleanse, moisturize and spf. On to this later you can add hydrating toners, vitamin C, an essence like snail mucin, hyaluronic acid, niacinamide. All of these products can go together!

🖤 NIGHT

Double cleansing in my opinion is a must, even if you have sensitive skin. Start of with an oil based cleanser on DRY skin, message for a minute, rise and than apply a normal cleanser, massage for a minute and rinse again. The oil pulls out gunk from the pores. After that make sure your face is dry and than apply your started retinol followed up with a heavier moisturiser. To this routine later you can also add eyes creams, again essence/and or toners and spot treatments for acne/dark spots.

🖤EXFOLIATION

Even sensitive skin needs exfoliation at less once a week, but be careful to really keep this routine simple. Again double cleanse, only this time the first cleanser is an oil based and the second is a salicylic based cleanser. Follow that up with a very soothing cream. For deeper exfoliation later you can look into exfoliation masks (the ordinary has one with salicylic acid) or a clay mask. Or my personal fave on exfoliation night is aloe vera gel and snail mucin. Glycolic acid and lactic acid are also an exfoliating product.

Hope you enjoyed the post!

xoxo NK

#skincare #dry skin #skincare tips #exfoliation #cleansers #essence #hydration #skincare products #aloe vera #salicylic acid #morning routine #night routine #tips #help #ask

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ghostlystyles · 2 years ago

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𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

anthony lockwood x gn!reader

lockwood is really just a lovesick teenager

request: Could you do a Lockwood X reader where they are getting ready for the gala at Fittes and Lockwood sees reader in the dress for the first time?

tessa’s notes: this was the fic that i didn’t save properly when i was nearly done, but it turned out alright so we vibe

warnings: honestly just pure fluff + lucy and reader are close friends :D, comment if i missed any <3

word count: 0,9k

—“OKAY, LUCE, WHAT do you think of this?” you asked, turning around to face the girl who was reading a book on her bed. “That definitely looks like you’re going to a funeral,” she replied. You turned back around to look in the mirror and sighed frustratedly, “well, considering what we’re about to do, I might be in a few days. I agree, though, it looked fine in the shop but this is terrible.”

“Well, you have one more, don’t you? Try that on,” Lucy suggested, looking up from her book. “Good call, give me a second,” you spoke, walking back to your wardrobe and pulling out the other dress. It was a red silk dress that reached your ankles and the woman in the shop had specifically told you it would look great on you, so you had high hopes.

You slipped into it and turned around to face Lucy again. “What about this?” you questioned as you twirled around. “Oh my god. You look so good!” Lucy gasped, throwing her book to the side and jumping off the bed. You looked in the mirror and tugged on the dress to get it in place. Lucy was right, you looked undeniably beautiful. “Yeah, this is definitely better than the funeral dress.”

“Can I do your makeup now? Please?” Lucy asked, as she held up her basket of makeup products. “As long as you don’t stab out my eyes or make me look like a total idiot, sure, go ahead,” you replied, sitting down at Lucy’s desk chair and she got to work. She put some eyeliner on you, stuck a line of gems alongside it and finished it off with a bit of highlighter and a tinted lip balm. “There. You look so pretty.”

“Wow, Luce! I’m impressed, thank you!” you exclaimed happily, as you tilted your face to look in the mirror from a different angle. “You’re welcome,” Lucy said in a singsong voice, while you grabbed the stuff you needed to do your hair. “Are you nervous?” asked Lucy. “‘Course I am. We’re stealing this extremely rare book from Fittes’s library, which, knowing us, may very well get us killed, and we’re supposed to act ‘casual’ around the other people, of which I’m sure there are going to be lots. Also, those people are going to treat us as a couple, because why else would two people go to a ridiculously fancy gala together? So yes, I am a tad nervous,” you ranted quickly.

“Yeah, all of those are very valid. But why does it bother you so much that people are gonna treat you like a couple on a date?”

“Well, it’s not a date, is it? Do you know how hard it is to act like and be treated like a couple with someone who you have genuine feelings for but aren’t actually dating?”

“I think you’re allowed to treat it like a date. At least a little bit. He asked you to go with him, no? He could’ve asked me or George, but he asked you.”

“Luce, that was literally a 1 out of 3. I was probably the best option for the occasion or whatever.”

“No, N/N, he already called me an asset and I think he still feels guilty for that. He wouldn’t do something like that again.”

“Okay, fair enough, but still. Just because I could hypothetically treat it like a date, doesn’t mean he is. It’s bloody embarrassing if it’s one-sided.”

“Y/N!” Lockwood called from downstairs, “are you almost done? I’m pretty sure our taxi is gonna be here in a few minutes!”

“Yeah, just a second!” you responded, as you took one final glance at yourself in the mirror. “Do I pass as a posh person who genuinely has business being at the Fittes gala?” you questioned. “Definitely. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were rich and probably a part of Penelope Fittes’s inner circle without a doubt,” Lucy reassured you. “Okay, great. Well, wish me luck, then,” Lucy gave you a quick hug and you then walked downstairs.

Lockwood was waiting for you by the front door and he looked star-struck when you descended the stairs. “Wow, Y/N— you look—”

“Stunning? Gorgeous? Charming?” you joked and Lockwood laughed softly. “Dazzling, honestly,” he finished his sentence, making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. “Why, thank you. You look very pretty yourself,” you replied with a smile. “I really wish I could kiss you right now,” Lockwood whispered. Your stomach flipped upside down and you did a double take. “Did you just say what I think you said?” you questioned with your eyes wide open, “because if you did, I really wish the same.”

Lockwood wasted no more time and he grabbed your face between his hands, pulling you close. He placed his lips onto yours into a soft kiss which made your insides completely melt. You pulled apart far too quickly for your liking and you both broke out into a huge grin. “Hey, that’s half your worries gone! Now all you have to do is steal the book, it’s gonna be a breeze!” Lucy yelled from halfway up the stairs. “Okay, Luce, that is enough stalker behaviour for today. We’re leaving,” Lockwood deadpanned, as he entwined his fingers with yours and dashed out the door. “Good luck, lovebirds!” you heard Lucy laugh before pulling the front door shut.

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angelicglibsss · 11 months ago

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Christmas Comfort

[ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ʀɪʟᴇʏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] [ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 25/12/23 [ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: After Johnny's death and a failed mission, Simon returns home to his girlfriend.

[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 3,252

[ᴛᴡ]: hurt/comfort, angst, a somewhat happy ending (it will never be fully happy without soap I am sorry) possible mw3 spoilers (if you have been living under a rock please avoid)

[ᴀ/ɴ]: This is my first story here, please be kind I beg <3 also very sorry for this but I had the idea and thought it would be quite a bittersweet story for the holiday season !!

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Christmas this year is going to be tough.

You know it from when you open the door to him on Christmas Eve.

Time has passed, he hasn’t been home for months and you were starting to convince yourself that it’s going to be years before you ever see him again.

When you were talking on the phone earlier, sometime during the middle of November, he had made a comment that he wasn’t going to come back home until he had made sure he had the pleasure of declaring that the enemy that had murdered his best friend was officially gone for good. While your chest tightened at his comment, you had nodded along and assured him that they would catch Makarov eventually; there were only so many places one man could hide before he’d revert back to familiar ground.

You feared the same for Simon at that moment. In fact, even with him home safe, you still do.

Of course, you would never say that to his face.

Despite his capability in combat, however, you often find yourself awake at night wondering just how capable he was when it came to processing and dealing with loss. Had he done what you assume he has done, he was most likely going to run from it instead of addressing it. Problems will build up and up until they came tumbling down. It’s a simple thought to construct during the late nights you have been spending alone since the news of what had happened to Johnny had found its way to you. Just as such a thought is easy to construct, you find that another one comes to you quicker than the former: where would Simon be when the building he’d constructed over the years fell to pieces?

There were only so many places he man could hide before he’d refer back to familiar ground. Even if said ground was crumbling around him. Maybe in his misery, he would find solace in falling to his doom with the chunks of shattered earth surrounding him.

If that assessment is wrong, it doesn't matter; your brain has decided it before your heart even gets a say.

You have very little to go off of concerning with how he dealt with loss, the occasional comment about his mum was enough for you to know that he wasn’t the type to completely forget about a loved one.

He's vague about his past. The less said about it the better.

‘You keep pawing an’ clawing at my brain like a damn puppy,’ he said, trailing his hands through your hair. You were guilty, for sure you were. Curiosity was sure to be the death of you in that regard. He’d let small facts slip on occasion, although, you knew his accidental slip ups were most definitely intention.

Of course, Simon Riley was no fool.

’Just tell me something,’ you begged, ‘like… I don’t know, what was your favourite food to eat at Christmas when you were younger? Ooo, I bet it was something like liquorice. You’d so make your nan pissed by robbing all the good shit out of the sweet tin.’ You laughed at the thought of a tiny Simon Riley climbing on top of a chair, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to snatch the sweet, sweet treat of liquorice.

‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me?’ he scoffed, ‘actin’ like I’m an old man doll,’ he snorted, ‘stop tryin’ to pester me f’r memories you have no business viewing.’

‘Is it illegal to be curious now?’ you asked with a playful smile. It was silent for a moment, and you lifted your head in an attempt to find his eyes in the darkness.

‘Yes, it is,’ he said, ‘you don’t wanna know me from the past, love,’ he huffed, ‘doesn’t matter now.’

‘You won’t even tell me what your favourite food was during Christmas?’

‘No,’ he reverted back to the same Simon you had seen when Johnny had been talking his ear off during the rare nights out you had had with 141. ’Now go t’ sleep, gonna be tired in the morning if you keep rambling on. My ears are burning with ya, doll,’ he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest.

Despite everything telling you to pull away from him, you maintained your closeness, the warmth of him far too appetising to refuse. Exhaling deeply, you rested your head against the pillow, staring straight at the wall in front of you. Your heart hurt at the very thought that he cared so little about his past that he fought to keep everything from his earlier life away from you. Even the smallest things. Of course, you would never had pried him, only the few passing comments in hopes for him to slip up as he had done a few times before.

Another hard sigh escaped you as you close your eyes. He shifted behind you, resting his head against your shoulder. You thought nothing of his sudden movement; it wasn’t uncommon for him to do so while you were sharing a bed together. Only, he turned his head, his breath ghosting your ear. Inhaling, he swallowed hard. ‘Mum used to make us roast dinners,’ he whispered, ‘used to always slap my hand away whenever she was cooking cause I used to always rob the pigs-in-blankets while she was still getting dinner ready.’

A small laugh passed your lips as you turned in his hold, placing your hand against his cheek with a cheeky grin. He stares back, blue gaze gutting through the darkness, slicing your soul to pieces. ‘Now, will y’ stop huffin’ and puffing and just go to sleep?’ He asked, placing his hand over yours.

‘Soundly, Lt.’

Even behind the mask, you could sense the sadness, the loss. A flurry of emotions hits you when you first see him after what has happened. What can you say to him? Anything other than I’m sorry seems to be an insult to him and to the memory of the man that is sure to haunt him.

The mask hides his face, but it never hid his eyes, his tired and war-weary eyes. It's a brutal sight to see the man who had put the fear of God through you when you had first met reduced to this crushed soul.

‘Simon,’ you say after a while of the pair of you just standing there, staring at each other. For a brief moment, it felt as though you had opened the door to a stranger instead of your boyfriend. Lifting his head, his Adams apple bobs beneath his balaclava as he steps forward. You take a step back, letting go of the edge of the door. Still, he doesn't speak, only standing there, observing you. ‘I thought you said you weren’t coming home until—‘

‘Don’t wanna talk about it,’ he answers, closing the door behind him.

His clothes are branded with the stench of war, and you take note of his bloodshot eyes. Has he been crying? You thought it impossible for such to be the case, he’d do no such thing. But, when he shakily inhales, grabbing the edge of his balaclava, your stomach dropped.

‘Place looks nice,’ he says, though his eyes don't leave you, ripping his mask from off of his face, shoving it into of his cargo pants. His words were shaky despite the stoic expression on his face. ‘You been alright?’

You look at him with wide eyes. ‘I- uh- yeah, yeah, just sorting out last minute things for Christmas,’ you answer, ‘how about you go and get a shower, get changed into some fresh clothes? I’ll make you something to eat—‘

‘Not hungry,’ he answers frankly, ‘appreciate the offer, doll, but I think I’m just gonna go straight to bed,’ he says. All the moisture in your mouth disappears and you’re forced to swallow a dry mouthful of air as you look up at him.

‘Right,’ you nod, ‘I- I’ll be up right after you, just gonna turn everything off down here,’ you say.

He doesn’t answer you after that, dropping his duffle bag down on the ground by the front door as he traipses up the wooden steps of your home. The garland wrapped around the bannister winks at you as you watch Simon walk up the stairs, almost mocking you for ever think it was a good idea to decorate.

The entirety of your house is wrapped like a Christmas present, reds, greens, colourful lights- everything. Whether it was the right thing to decorate or not, you choose not to focus on it too much as you rush around the house, switching off the decorations and the lights, leaving the washing you had been doing on the counter in the kitchen.

All of it can wait. But he can’t.

So, with such a thought in mind, you busy yourself with your plan. What is included in that plan can be decided as you’re walking through the house, back to the staircase you have just seen your poor boyfriend walking up.

Jogging up each step, you decide that ultimately, everything that has happened in the past few months with be something he will not be willing to discuss with you; he made it clear when he walked through the door. Don’t push him on it.

When your foot hits the last step, you nod to yourself as you consider what you would do if he did want to talk to you about it. If he wants to talk to you about it, then you rejoice in his openness. But it isn’t necessary for him to have your undying support. No matter what he decides, ultimately, your heart is never going to fail on him.

Before heading into your bedroom, you gulp when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out of your pocket, your eyes scan over the message, a shallow exhale escaping your lips.

Mum <3: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. made sure to grab extra pigs-in-blankets incase Simon decides to appear sometime. Love you xx

Begrudgingly, you stare down at the message before looking at the bedroom door. From beyond it, you can hear the running water in the shower and all you can think about is him. So, with a deep breath, you look back down at your phone and begin to type.

From ‘me’: Slight change of plans but I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it there tomorrow. Simon’s just got home and he’s not good. Don’t think socialising is what he needs right now. Sorry, I love you xx

Choosing has never easy, yet, when you pushed open the bedroom door and saw his clothes sitting on the bed the pair of you share, you decide that that choice was the easiest one you have ever made in your life. It isn’t a sacrifice when it is necessary. At least, not when it comes to Simon at least.

‘I’m not going home tomorrow,’ you tell him when he walks out of the bathroom. Part of you feels bad for bombarding him with something as soon as he walks out, but the affirming text from your mother causes your heart to swell, and when you see him again, it bursts. His hair is damp and he pulls his face out of the towel with a surprised look. His scarred cheeks are branded with a subtle red tinge from the heat exuding from the bathroom. The heat works well to melt his features just enough for him to mould them into a dissatisfied sneer. ‘I don’t wanna fight you on this, Si.’

‘You can’t cancel on your family,’ he says, approaching his dresser. ‘Not right. I don’t want you to do that for me,’ he continues, grabbing a t-shirt, pulling it over his head. ‘Go spend time with them, am fine here.’

‘I already told my mum,’ you say, ‘she’s fine with it,’ you quickly reassure, far too aware that he very well may be a ticking time bomb.

Oddly, you request of not fighting on it seemingly works as he looks over his shoulder at you. There is simply no fight left in Simon Riley anymore, you conclude it from the way he shrinks as he exhales, padding up to the bed. It was as though he had left the house as a grenade left the hands of a soldier. Upon his return, the body of what made him him: his danger, his determination, and his strength had all been lost and you find he has been reduced to the pin pulled from the grenade.

Looking up at him, you find that it is up to you if you’re going to discard it or keep it as a keepsake.

Pulling the edge of the duvet, you pat the side of the mattress, ‘c’mon,’ you say gently. He doesn’t wait to climb into bed beside you, resting his weary head against the pillow. It’s as though someone is pressing down on his chest as he heaves a sound unlike anything you have ever heard. Exhaustion was clear, but grief was easier to identify in his eyes. Leaning over, you turn the lamp on your beside off, trying your attention to him, lying on his side.

There’s nothing to say. Not to him, not for him, not for yourself. You just lay there and stare at him hoping something will come to you. Anything said will be a bittersweet lullaby, you’re convinced. Nothing is going to put him to sleep. ‘Your minds running; faster than mine, sweetheart,’ he says. His eyes are closed when you look at his face. ‘Don’t want you doin’ stupid things ‘cause of me.’

‘Nothing is stupid when it comes to you, Si’,’ you weakly state.

At this point, you heart is racing, your tongue tangled as you contemplate every single word on the edge of your tongue. ‘Mum said she’ll bring us dinner tomorrow,’ you say with a weak smile, debating on whether or not you should spoil the surprise. ‘We can eat it and watch something… if you want to.’

‘What’s she bringing,’ he asks.

‘A roast,’ you answer, ‘it is Christmas after all.’

He’s quiet for a while, almost as though he doesn’t even want to think about what day it is. December 24th. Christmas Eve. You’re unsure how exactly the holidays work in 141, only noting that he had been away a few times during Christmas. Oddly, this is one of the first ones he’s home with you. His second Christmas since knowing Johnny that he isn’t with him. Your heart weakens at the realisation, your brain cursing you with the knowledge of something so agonising.

They had spent Christmas together.

And now they won’t and never will and it isn’t just because of the distance between Manchester and Scotland.

Rather, it’s because of the distance between this life and the next.

Your eyes well with tears and you close them. Your heart hurts for the man lying in front of you, and when you hear him clear his throat, you find it difficult to contain your own sorrow. ‘Doesn’t feel like Christmas,’ he tells you, his voice trembling as he does. ‘Haven’t slept at all since ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about him just… lyin’ there,’ his throat tightens and his tone grows pitchy as he inhales deeply, swallowing hard. ‘I shoulda done something, I should’ve been there f’r him.’

He’s crying at that point, but not sobbing. In fact, you only know he's crying because, when you place your hand against his cheek and the pad of your thumb wiped away a tear that falls past his eye. ‘You were,’ you choke out, ‘even in death, you were loyal to him, Si’, don’t you dare go cursing your own name for something you were not responsible for,’ you demand. ‘You’ll get him.’

‘We’re fallin’ apart without him,’ Simon sniffles, ‘bet he’s sitting up there pissin’ himself seeing me like this,’ he utters. The pair of you share a laugh at the thought and you move close to him. ‘I just… I told myself after everything that happened to mum and Tommy, I wouldn’t feel anything ‘cause that fucked me up, but then I met Johnny a- and I met you.’

You hold your breath.

‘Simon—‘

‘And what if I can’t keep you safe? I’ve failed at it so much and that fucking pricks got me doubting myself now—‘

‘Shut up,’ you firmly say, ‘I don’t wanna hear it, Si’,’ you utter, ‘and neither would Johnny.’

You press your thumb against his cheek, ‘doubt is a killer, and it’s not me who you’re not gonna be able to protect if you keep thinking the way you are, it’s yourself,’ you continue, licking your dry lips, ‘and… and if you die, then who’s gonna steal the pigs-and-blankets on Christmas Day?’

Whether it was time for humour or not, you’re unsure. But, as you thinking for a moment, you recall the tales told to you by Simon during his time away, particularly his time with the Shadows.

Two goldfish are in a tank…

‘You still remember that?’ he asks eventually. You feel the muscles contort in his face as he smiles at you.

‘Always,’ you respond, ‘mums got them with the dinner tomorrow ‘cause I asked her too… said she got extra incase you planned on robbing any of them.’ You feel bad telling him such information knowing that you had chosen to cancel the holiday. If anything, you’re worried about the guilt you’re causing him by rambling on about the stupid fucking pigs-in-blankets. ‘My point is Si’,’ you take a deep breath, ‘I need you here with me so you can fulfil your duty.’

He shifts and pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. Your hand brushes through his hair, melting in his arms as his hot breath fans against your neck. ‘Wanna see your family tomorrow,’ he says, ‘I’ll go with you.’

‘Are you sure—‘

‘’Ave been stuck in my mind for nearly two months,’ he confesses, pulling away from your neck. ‘Fighting with myself over everything, I’ve hardly spoken to Price or Gaz,’ he confesses. You press your lips together, the thought of him being alone nauseating. ‘Be a waste of money as well if I didn’t try pinching the food your mums made, wouldn’t it?’

You feel him smile as he presses his face back against your neck, his grip on you so tight its almost painful. But you relent, allowing him to have the comfort he so deserves. Resting your head above his, you close your. Whatever awaited you in the future can wait, you conclude.

‘I proud of you,’ you whisper, pressing a kiss onto his head. 'Never gonna let you doubt yourself ever again, not on my watch,' you continue, 'now sleep. We can talk more when you're ready.'

He smiles again.

'I know I can sleep soundly now,' he utters against your skin, 'got you beside me.'

With that, the pair of you fall into silence. You don't sleep, not until you feel his breathing steady against you skin, the subtle rise of his chest as he keeps his arms around you. You keep running you fingers through his hair before eventually, you find your eyes growing heavy and you drift off.

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#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #angst with a happy ending #ghost cod #cod simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #cod mw3 #mw2 #modern warfare #female reader #simon riley x you

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alexismusictrek · 1 year ago

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Okay, so let’s get down to brass tacks… For years we’ve been hearing the debate about the Janeway/Chakotay we got on Voyager and the JC of the fanfic world.

We got a beautifully understated, but glaringly obvious relationship. These two characters love one another without question—deeply, unyieldingly, intrinsically. This is clearly some written in the stars type shit— pun blatantly intended🤣 And yes we were robbed in the end, but that’s why we have the fanfic, right?

Right.

HOWEVER:

Shaming people for letting their fantasies come to fruition in story is not cool. Like not ever, bro. Especially for the writers, but also the readers.

I am both. Speaking for myself only, hell yeah I love the subtext, the unspoken love, the minuscule and the grandiose gestures… ALL. OF. IT. It’s devastating and beautiful and hits you straight in the feels no matter which way you turn.

But you know what? Sometimes it’s refreshing to think of these characters as the humans they are. 24th century or no. This is why we have tags and trigger warnings. It’s a personal choice. Admittedly, I’m the type that believes Janeway would have her way with Chakotay all over the ship if she could and vice versa— and as someone who spends valuable time writing simply for the love of it… imma put that into words when the occasion strikes me.

Giving Characters a life not seen is not a negative. Sex is not a bad thing. E ratings don’t instantly mean trashy. Baby fic is not evil. Fluff isn’t gross, just mostly harmful to your dental work☺️

Jokes aside—If you don’t like it, don’t read it for sure, but please don’t make people feel guilty for imagining or articulating what they long for. It’s hard enough to pour your heart into something so freely, only to be judged harshly or negatively because someone feels a different way. Skip it if it’s OOC or otherwise for you, but unless they are constructive and healthy— keep your opinions to yourself.

Fanfic is for the imagination, no matter the rating or the context. There are a lot of strong beliefs in this fandom, but being decent humans is one we should all agree on💜

#kathryn janeway #chakotay #jcforever #janeway x chakotay #lovers #fanfic #janeway/chakotay #fanfic writer #star trek #sex is okay #ain’t no shame in fantasy #don’t be mean #love not hate

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 1 year ago

Note

Hi I hope you have a great day/night. I love your work and I wanted to request something please (if you don't want it's totally okay)

So I want to request a Marylin with Student reader but R is Larissa daughter. R and Mary are already but they didn't tell to Larisa yet and one day she caught them and confronted them.

Thanks you and see you next time

Yesss!!! Here it is!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))))

The Weems girl secret

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill x Fem, Student! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, reader is Larissa’s daughter

Word count: 5,484

Summary: You were the Principal Weems’ little girl, but you have a big secret that you try to hide the best way you can

N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays and for not posting this week, I’m having a very stressful time at work :((( I’m sorry about that, I love you all, and thank you for your support

“How are the classes going? Miss Green told me that you are a prodigy in literature...” Said your mother, Larissa Weems, in one of her infinite attempts to stop feeling guilty about sending you to Nevermore, the school of which she was the principal.

You shrugged as you took a sip of your chocolate milkshake.

“I guess so,” you sighed.

Larissa looked at you, analyzing your gestures.

“Come on, talk to me (Y/N), you can't stay angry with me…” She told you. You smiled wryly.

“I'm not angry, it's just that everyone knows that I'm your daughter, no one tells me anything at all. It's frustrating,” you said, crossing your arms and constantly looking at the clock. “I have to go.”

“You have to go? Where?” Your mother asked, arching an eyebrow. Even when you did everything she told you, you couldn't get rid of those uncomfortable interrogations.

You shifted in the chair, nervously looking everywhere.

“Well, to sleep, I'm very tired today,” you said, faking a yawn.

Larissa looked at you suspiciously. You weren't good at lying, you didn't know how to lie and you never needed to, but on that occasion you had to do it, it was more than obligatory.

“Darling...” Your mother sighed, preventing you from getting up.

“What?” You asked in your usual teenage tone. She looked at you carefully.

“I have the feeling that you are hiding something from me,” She said with half-closed eyes, paying attention to all your small expressions, altered by your nerves.

“Yes, I'm sleepy,” you said, looking away from her accusatory eyes and freeing yourself from her grip. Larissa sighed, but she finally let your arm go, watching you walking away.

Nervously, you walked through the hallways, constantly checking your watch. You had something important to do and your mother's constant questions and attempts at fraternization made your free will around school very difficult for you, especially lately, especially since you had a secret, something that you couldn't let to be discovered.

Looking around, you knocked on the wooden door. Being in the hallway where the teachers lived was always a risk, a risk that you took every night, that you accepted every night as a routine.

“(Y/N), you’ve come...” Marilyn Thornhill, your botany teacher, sighed.

“Well, of course I have. It's not easy to get rid of my mother, but here I am,” you said with a smile. She handed it back to you and stepped away so you could enter the room.

When the redhead closed the door, the two of you stood looking at each other for a brief moment, before Marilyn approached, gently grabbed your waist and kissed you tenderly on the lips. You smiled when you felt the kiss. That was the only thing that could make you forget all your problems.

It seemed like something impossible, unattainable, but when by mistake you confessed the love you felt for your teacher, you discovered that impossible was nothing, that she had also been repressing her feelings, that her favorite student was something more than just that.

Logically, that kind of relationship was dangerous, it exceeded the limits of Nevermore, the rules and the school ethical code. But that wasn't the biggest problem. The biggest problem was your mother, the principal.

Fighting not to be discovered was simple, at least until that moment. But with the passage of time, and the consolidation of a loving relationship, a real, authentic one, your way of being was affected and your mother, always on the lookout, noticed it.

“I've missed you...” You whispered in the redhead's ear. She laughed and hugged you tightly, placing small kisses on your neck.

“(Y/N), you saw me in class this morning,” she said amused, caressing your cheek. You smiled and nodded, rolling your eyes.

“It's not the same, and you know it,” you said with a falsely dark tone. “You got it? Do you have it?” You asked impatiently. Marilyn bowed her head and walked to her desk.

“Here it is... A cabin for two...” She said, handing you a sheet of paper that you looked at as if it were a treasure.

“I can't wait...” You sighed, looking again at the small cabin that would be your home that weekend.

“Do you already know what are you going to tell your mother?” She asked curiously. “You know it's not easy to fool Larissa.”

You sighed, shaking your head. The idea of spending a weekend with Marilyn, away from Nevermore, alone, had occupied your mind those days and you hadn't even bothered to think of an excuse. The realization made your legs tremble.

“The truth is I don’t…” You said discouraged. “I guess I'll ask my classmates for help.”

Marilyn frowned and crossed her arms.

“(Y/N), that's not a good idea,” she said with a serious tone. You snorted.

“I know, but it's the only excuse I have,” you said, sitting on the bed. “I sure can count on the Weems advantage.”

“The Weems advantage?” The redhead asked, sitting next to you.

You nodded thoughtfully.

“Being the principal's daughter has its advantages, you know, I can sneak into her office and get the files. I'm sure many of my colleagues would pay to have that information.

“That's dangerous,” Marilyn said.

“I know, but it's worth it to be with you,” you said carefree, smiling innocently. Marilyn shook her head, biting her lip.

“You're hopeless, (Y/N),” she said amusedly, kissing you again. “You are crazy.”

“Yes, for you,” you teased, lying down. “What are we going to watch today? I hope you take my recommendations into account.”

The nights were like that. There was nothing beyond kissing. Marilyn was a cautious woman, she did not want to take risks. You felt somewhat frustrated by that attitude, but you never insisted on taking another step in the relationship. That fabulous weekend that was about to arrive would be the best moment.

In her room, you watched movies, series, you laughed, you kissed, you hugged. It was like a little refuge for you, a refuge full of pure, innocent love, and above all, a true one.

And there, lying on the bed, with your hands intertwined, watching anything on the computer, you passed the time. Between kisses, caresses and laughter. Something that on the one hand was frustrating, but on the other hand you believed that they were the best moments of the day, and of your entire life.

“Well, it's over,” the redhead said, when the credit titles appeared on the screen. “It has been well…”

“I know, I have chosen it,” you said with a mischievous look. “Wait, wait,” you said, grabbing Marilyn's arm, who was about to get up. “Can't we stay like this a little longer?”

“(Y/N)…” She said, in a warning tone.

“Come on, please…” You said, pouting exaggeratedly. Marilyn opened her mouth to say something, but at the last moment she changed her mind and went back to lie down next to you.

You smiled victoriously, settling into her chest again as her hand stroked your hair.

After a few minutes, and making an effort not to close her eyes, the redhead sighed melancholy. You looked up curiously.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked. Marilyn looked at you and shook her head.

“I think that if they catch us things are going to go really bad,” she told you in a serious, but at the same time sad tone. “This is very risky.”

You shook your head.

It wasn't the first time Marilyn questioned your relationship. It's not that she didn't love you, quite the opposite, rather it was a rational concern. You were who you were. A student, the principal's daughter. She was your teacher.

“Without risk there is no victory, Mari,” you said amused, kissing her briefly on the lips. She laughed and shook her head, caressing your cheek.

“And what is the victory?” She asked, looking you straight in the eyes. You opened your eyes wide, thinking of an answer that you didn't have at that moment.

“Well... Being together,” you said sighing, shrugging your shoulders. “But I guess not this way… Stop hiding… You know, let classes end and I'm no longer your student. I think that is where we have to get to.”

Marilyn nodded with a sad smile, looking into your eyes in that way that made you melt.

“(Y/N), there's still your mother,” she said, kissing you, pulling you closer to her.

“What's wrong with my mother?” You asked annoyed. The same topic always came up.

“Do you really think she would accept what we had?”

“Why not?”

Marilyn laughed nervously, shifting on the bed.

“You're 20 years old, I'm 43, I'm your teacher…” She began to say, getting you to roll your eyes when you heard the same words as always.

“You won't be forever.”

“I'm supposed to take care of you.”

“And you do it.”

“(Y/N), stop fooling yourself, Larissa will never accept our relationship.”

You snorted, unable to convince the redhead.

“She'll accept it. And if she won’t, well, I don't care about her, I'm not going to give up on you,” you said, crossing your arms, indignant. She remained thoughtful, with a half smile.

“(Y/N)…” She whispered. You looked at her sharply, suppressing the smile she always managed to get out of you.

“What?”

“I love you,” she said softly, approaching you, silencing your possible response with a tender, warm kiss. You let yourself go, deepening her kiss, hugging the redhead, losing control.

Delicately, you lay on top of her, while the caresses ran through your entire body. Your breathing became disordered, rapid, uncontrollable, as did your desire. You didn't have that rational way of seeing things, you simply acted according to your instincts.

Marilyn, however, realized what she was doing and put a hand on your chest to stop those kisses, those caresses that were little by little getting out of control.

“Honey, no, we can't, not here...” She said, fighting against herself, brushing her lips with yours. You sighed and gave her no respite. You kissed her again, this time more intensely, passionately.

“What does it matter...” You said against her lips. The redhead stopped you again, shaking her head.

“Can't you wait for the weekend? The two of us will be alone there...” She said amusedly, fleeing from your caresses as her own desire allowed her.

“No,” you said dryly, lifting your shirt over your shoulders. At that moment she froze, admiring parts of your body that she had never seen before, becoming dazed, running her hand over your collarbone, over your belly...

“Please, stop...” She said to you, although it seemed more like she was talking to herself, while the buttons on her blouse gave way to the skillful attacks of your fingers.

“No...” You sighed, kissing her neck, biting her lips, going wild.

Three soft knocks on the door almost gave you a heart attack. You both widened your eyes, scared.

“Marilyn? It’s Larissa,”

“Shit,” you said. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“My God, it's your mother, what does she want?” Marilyn whispered, buttoning her blouse again.

You were nervous, looking for your shirt on the bed, trying to think clearly.

“How can I know?” You said nervously. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

Marilyn stood up, looking for a good place to hide you.

She quickly grabbed your wrist.

“To the closet, quick, quick, quick,” she told you, pushing you into the cabinet, leaving your shirt abruptly on your chest.

“But...” You said before the redhead closed the door.

“Stay there…” She whispered to you. You were terrified, your whole body was shaking. Also, the closet was small, you didn't have room to put your shirt back on. Rarely have you been so afraid.

You heard the door open and the unmistakable sound of your mother's heels on the wood.

“Larissa... What's wrong?” Marilyn asked, unable to control the trembling tone of her voice.

“Does something have to happen for me to want to talk to the only person with common sense in Nevermore?” Your mother asked, with some irony, closing the bedroom door.

You stayed hidden in that closet, avoiding making any movement that would open the wooden door.

“Talk?” Marilyn asked, nervous. You couldn't even see her and you already knew what she looked like. Shaky, blushing and nervous.

“Yes, unless I’m interrupting something,” Larissa drawled.

One of your tremors pushed the closet door open, causing it to squeak just enough to be noticeable. Luckily, Marilyn stepped in front of it, immediately closing it and hitting your nose in the process.

“No, no, I was reading...” She said nervously, holding the door with her hand. “What do you want to talk about?”

“(Y/N),” she said, sitting on the bed. “That girl has me very worried.”

You held your breath when you heard your name. You certainly didn't expect Larissa to want to talk about you, much less to Marilyn. That made you suspect that something was wrong.

“What's wrong with (Y/N)?” The redhead asked.

“She's always been a strange girl, but lately she's starting to worry me,” your mother said, sighing. “And that's not the worst thing, on top of that I went to see her in her room and guess what: she wasn't there.”

“Oh, well, she maybe is with one of her friends,” Marilyn said, with an innocent tone, unable to convince anyone that she was telling the truth. Luckily, it seemed like Larissa trusted her.

“I doubt it, Marilyn…” Your mother said. “You get along well with her, right?” She asked. You gave a small start, pursing your lips so that your frightened breathing was inaudible.

“Um... Well I...” Marilyn said.

“Oh, come on Marilyn, she spends every afternoon with you in the conservatory. She probably tells you more things.”

“The truth is, she only helps me with the plants, she is a nice girl,” the redhead said, sitting next to Weems.

“And I suppose that during all that time you talk about something, right?”

Marilyn nodded and shook her head. She didn't know what to say to that, she was almost cornered. You couldn't move, or even barely breathe, predicting a truly uncomfortable conversation.

“Well, about the plants, about the classes...” Marilyn said, smiling shyly.

“Please,” Larissa said with a sharp voice. “I have been the Nevermore’s principal for 10 years, I know what happens in every corner of the school. It's clear that something is happening here.”

“What... What do you mean?” Marilyn asked, stuttering.

“Don't play dumb, you know perfectly well,” Larissa said, sharp, threatening.

That was the end. You didn't know how, but surely your mother had been aware of your nightly skirmishes for some time and surely that visit was just one of her tricks to make Marilyn confess. You were done.

“(Y/N) is dating someone, right?” Your mother asked.

You sighed in relief, having to put a hand over your mouth to silence your breathing. You were on the verge of fainting.

“I, I don't know,” Marilyn said, sighing too.

“I'm sure you know, and if you don't want to tell me it's because I'm not going to like it, am I wrong?”

“I promise you I don't know anything,” Marilyn said, gesturing with her arms in surrender.

“Hmm,” your mother murmured.

“A, also, (Y/N) she is a smart girl, I'm sure if what you’re saying is true, you shouldn't worry.”

“Don't be so sure, Marilyn. I know my daughter, if she hasn't wanted to tell me anything it's because she knows that I'm not going to like it.”

“Well, she's old enough,” Marilyn said, with a slightly annoyed tone.

“That's what scares me. Look, Marilyn, (Y/N) is a good girl, too good, in fact. I don't want some jerk to break her heart... I can't help but worry,” your mother said, with a sincere tone.

“I understand, Larissa.”

“Good, because I have to ask you a favor.”

You were very attentive, and you sensed the unpleasant task that she was going to propose.

“Yes, of course,” Marilyn said, with her usual smile.

“If you have the chance... I would like you to try to get some information out of (Y/N). She trusts you, I'm sure that if you ask her, she will have no problem telling you anything. She always speaks when she feels confident.”

That made your blood boil.

“Are you asking me to spy on your daughter?” The redhead asked with a gesture as surprised as it was amused.

“No, God no...” Larissa said, with a fake smile. Clearly, that was precisely what she was asking for. “I only ask that if she tells you something that you think is important, you let me know. Don't force it, just be natural. I'm asking this as a personal favor, Marilyn, I can't think of anyone better than you.”

“I... Well, that's, that's fine. I’ll try,” the redhead said, getting up from the bed, looking fearfully at the closet, which threatened to open again.

“Thank you, Marilyn. I count on you. Anyway, I'm going to try to get some sleep,” your mother said, heading towards the door.

You closed your eyes as you heard the heels on the wood, getting further and further away, until the familiar squeak of the door reached your ears.

“Quick, get out,” Marilyn said, opening the closet and pulling you along. You almost stumbled, but managed to stay on your feet, holding back your laughter.

“My name is Thornhill, Marilyn Thornhill, license to spy,” you said jokingly, adopting the pose of the famous secret agent. The redhead shook her head, sighing.

“It's not funny, (Y/N). You have no idea how bad it has been,” she told you, falling onto the bed.

“What about me? You broke my nose,” you said, rubbing it.

“If your mother catches you here, she would break mine,” Marilyn responded. “This is very difficult, (Y/N)...”

You finally put on your shirt and sat down, putting a hand on her leg.

“Eh, I'm sure she would forget, don't worry. Just tell her a lie,” you said in a pleasant tone, downplaying that disturbing situation.

“A lie? I don't know how to lie...” She sighed, caressing your cheek when you lay down next to her.

“Mari, don't worry, besides, tomorrow is Friday. Surely the romantic weekend helps to clarify your ideas.”

“Or to dig my own grave...”

“Well, I think I'll go to my room before Warden Weems gets the key and rummages through my drawers…” You said, kissing her briefly and getting up from the bed. “Tomorrow at the usual time in the conservatory?”

She nodded, looking at you tenderly. Sometimes your optimism was beyond the limits of a common person, but that was cute, funny.

The next day…

“Well, I'm leaving,” you said to your friends, getting up from the table in the quad where you were enjoying a pleasant autumn afternoon. There were only a few hours left for your trip and you were nervous. Luckily, your friends had agreed to cover for you. They were the best friends in the world.

“I thought you would go at night,” Enid said, the most nosy of all.

“Oh yes, but I'm meeting Miss Thornhill in the conservatory to help her. I can not deny,” you said, taking your bag.

“You are a serious nice talker, (Y/N),” your friend Yoko said.

“I do what I can,” you said with a smile, walking towards the old glass building.

There, as always, Marilyn was organizing the plants. You stayed for a moment admiring that woman. She was the best thing that had ever happened to you, despite the differences, despite all the obstacles that were between you. Her tenderness and innocence captivated you. You could be looking at her all day.

A vibration interrupted your fantasies.

“Oh, don't fuck with me,” you whispered, taking out your phone, which was agonizingly warning you that it had no battery left. “You are a disaster, (Y/N)…”

Sighing, but with a nonchalant shrug, you walked into the conservatory, taking a quick look around.

“(Y/N), is nice to see you,” the redhead said with a perhaps too wide smile.

“Yes, keep pretending that you don't see me every day,” you said jokingly, leaving your bag on her desk. “What are you doing?”

“Well, watering the plants, is quite obvious,” she said with a smile, grabbing a watering can. You nodded unconcerned.

“Hey, I have great news,” you said, getting a little closer to her. Marilyn looked at you and nodded for you to continue. “I already have an alibi. My friends are a treasure… I already have everything prepared for the trip. I can't wait to get out of here...”

“Oh, the trip, of course,” she said, with a strange expression.

“Imagine being far away from Nevermore, far from my mother... With the person I love... Alone... under the fire of a romantic fireplace...” You said, wandering erratically around the building, making exaggerated gestures, as if you were in a modern art performance. “Doesn't it seem ideal to you? I have to admit that when you proposed the idea of the cabin in the woods I wasn't very convinced, but I've thought about it better. I can't think of a more romantic place.”

Marilyn looked at the floor for a moment and made another strange face. But in an instant her face smiled again, placing a hand on her waist.

“You know I always have good ideas,” she said whispering. “And regarding that loved one… I suppose you really want to be alone with her…”

You blinked, but you didn't even pay attention to those words. Marilyn was like that, she liked to play with you, bring out everything you had inside, especially the feelings you had towards her. You didn't find it strange.

“Yes... It's about time. I swear I'm not going to get out of bed.”

Marilyn smiled but she couldn't hide a gesture of surprise, something that did seem strange to you.

“Was there an energy point here?” You asked, taking your charger out of your bag.

She nodded, pointing to a power strip under her desk. Finally, you put your phone on charge.

Taking advantage of the fact that her back was turned, you hugged her waist. She stood stiff, firm, scared.

“(Y/N)...”she stammered, barely moving.

You, amused at seeing her nervous, ran her hair over her shoulder and kissed her neck, heading towards her ear.

“What's wrong, Marilyn?” You whispered suggestively. “Are you nervous? Don't worry, I've already told you that my mother's situation is under control.”

She didn't respond, she simply walked away from you, turning around.

“(Y/N),”she said when you approached, biting your lip, ready to give her a kiss. She mysteriously backed away. “Wait, wait a minute, I, I don't...”

Before you could react, a vibration from your phone interrupted you. You went to look at it with a smile.

“I'm sure it’s my annoying mother, she'll want to know where I am. She certainly looks like a police officer. But hey, now that you're her insider, I think we can rest easy. I swear I almost fell out of that closet yesterday... It was funny.”

“Yes...” The redhead sighed, frowning. “Very funny…”

Winking at her, you looked at the screen. You went pale, confused. It wasn't your mother who sent you the message, it was someone you didn't expect, that wasn't possible. It was a message from Marilyn, and her words did not help you catch your breath: Today it will take me a little longer to go to the conservatory, I have several surprises for our trip. Wait for me there.

“Oh, no...” You whispered, looking at the time she sent it. It was only ten minutes ago. There was no way she was in front of you, there was no way she was Marilyn. You went into shock, unable to even blink.

What came next was worse. Marilyn, the real Marilyn, came into the conservatory with a couple of shopping bags.

“Hello honey, sorry about the delay, but I had to buy some…” She changed her face, dropping the bags. It was logical, her double was in front of her, with a angry face. “Things…”

You looked at both of them repeatedly, lamenting, nervous.

“Shit…” You said, seeing how the Marilyn you were talking to became your mother again. “Shit…”

“Larissa,” she sighed the redhead, with the same pale and confused face as you. “What's happening?”

“That I screwed it up…” You said, with your whole body trembling.

“But, but, haven't you read the message I sent you?” She said, upset, without paying attention to your mother, who didn't look away from her, waiting for the perfect moment to attack, like a good predator.

“How do you want me to read it if it didn't have battery?”

“Haven't you put it on charge?”

"Well, no, how was I going to know that my mother was going to pretend to be you?” You asked nervously, taking your hands to your head.

“Well, you should guess if you knew I wasn't here,” she said, angry, nervous, embarrassed.

“I already told you that my phone didn’t have battery!” You yelled, letting out some nerves that were beginning to make your blood boil.

“Silence! Enough!” Your mother shouted. You both looked at each other and turned your head to Larissa, who had an unreadable expression.

“Mom, I...” You said, trying to find a good excuse, although you knew perfectly well that there was none.

“Silence, (Y/N), I don't want to hear a single word,” your mother said, serious, blunt. “Now I’m beginning to understand many things.”

“Larissa, I…” Marilyn said.

“I told you to be quiet,” The principal responded. I don't know how I could have been so blind. All this time worried, I thought about who my daughter could be spending time with and it turns out that she had extracurricular classes with her teacher. It's disgusting, Marilyn, it's so unlike you that I don't even recognize you.”

The two of you looked at each other, giving up, waiting for the fight that was coming and in which there was no place to take refuge.

“This, this has an explanation...” The redhead whispered, her voice breaking.

“What explanation? Marilyn, I trusted you. I considered you a friend, a person with principles. It's incredible that you betrayed me like this. With my daughter, Marilyn, with my own daughter…”

“I'm sorry, okay?” Marilyn said, defensively. “I, I couldn't help it.”

“Oh, you couldn't help it,” Larissa said, with a mocking tone. “Don't make excuses, Marilyn, she's a kid! Don't you realize what you've done?”

“Hey, she hasn't done anything,” you said, trying to defend the woman you loved.

“You better shut up young lady, you and I will talk later. You're going to be grounded until the gorgons turn people into candy,” your mother said, hissing.

“That's not fair,” you said, protesting. Marilyn was already sobbing. For you it was a humiliating situation, but for her it must have been much more devastating.

“Larissa, I... No, it's not what you think...” The redhead said.

“It's not what I think,” she repeated again, with mockery, irony. “I don't have to think anything, Marilyn, I have seen it with my own eyes. I saw how my daughter was willing to kiss you here, at school, and I don't even want to imagine what she was doing last night hiding in your closet. I don't even want to think about it.”

“I was hiding,” you said, crying too.

“I can imagine that, (Y/N),” your mother hissed, getting dangerously close to you. “Since when has this been happening? When did you start laughing in my face?”

Marilyn did not respond, she stood with her head bowed, staring at the floor, trembling, unable to maintain her composure.

“For longer than you think, mom,” you said defiantly.

“Marilyn, look at me in the eyes, or don't you dare to do it? You're involved with my daughter, with my girl! And you don't even dare to look at me in the eyes now,” Larissa said, ignoring your comment.

The redhead raised her head, looking at you briefly.

“I, I don't want to hurt your daughter, Larissa...” Marilyn said, sobbing. Larissa raised her eyebrows, laughing wryly, anger was clear in her eyes. “I love her.”

You looked at her suddenly, surprised by those words, by that unexpected response.

“You love her? But have you gone crazy?” Your mother said.

Marilyn nodded, taking your hand bravely. You were excited, leaving fear behind, feeling safe, reaffirming the feelings you had for her.

“We love each other, mom,” you said, supporting Marilyn, making her feel that you were on her side, that you always would be.

“Don't talk nonsense, (Y/N), you don't even know what you want… You're too young,” Larissa said, passing a hand over her forehead.

“Yes I know! I love her!” You shouted. “You always say that I should look for someone suitable, someone who really loves me, who cares about me... Well, very well, I've found her. Marilyn is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and you are not going to stop me from continuing to love her.”

Marilyn squeezed your hand tighter.

“But dear, don't you realize that that can't be possible? That is not good?”

“Who says it? You?” You said indignantly.

Your mother pressed her lips together hard, but she didn't respond, darkening her gaze.

“Larissa, I understand that you don't like it… And I understand that I'll have to leave Nevermore,” Marilyn said, getting your attention.

“I should fire you right now…” Larissa said.

“Very well, fire me,” the redhead said, defiant. “But that's not going to keep me away from (Y/N). I'm, I'm tired of being a coward. I shouldn't, but I'm honest, I love (Y/N) and would do anything for her.”

“And I would do anything for you…” You answered in a low voice, admiring with pleasure the change in attitude of the shy and innocent Marilyn.

“Oh my God…” Larissa sighed, resting her hands on her desk. “(Y/N)... Why are you making it so difficult for me?”

“You make it difficult,” you responded, no longer crying. “If Marilyn leaves, assume that I will go with her. I'm of legal age, I can do whatever I want. I don't care if you like it or don't like it, but I'm not going to give up the woman I love, so you can get used to it.”

Larissa approached threateningly, ready to slap you, to give you a corrective, but at the last moment she regretted it, clenching her fist and relaxing her face.

“(Y/N)...” She sighed, clasping her hands.

“Mom, please...” You said, watching how little by little she seemed to calm down.

“Marilyn,” she said, now looking at the redhead. “I should kick you out, report you to the police, yell at you, even break your nose... But... I'm not going to do it.”

“What?”

“I don't like it, I don't approve it, but I really can't think of anyone better for (Y/N)...” She said, without looking at you, walking around the same place. “If what you say is true... I can, I can let it go...”

You smiled and so did Marilyn. You both looked at each other in disbelief at those words.

“But I'm going to tell you one thing, Marilyn Thornhill...” She said, pointing her finger at your girlfriend. “If you think about harming my daughter, you will have to deal with me.”

“I will make her as happy as I can,” Marilyn said, looking at you with sincere love, with relief.

Larissa nodded.

“So I can go this weekend with her?” You said, jokingly, knowing that the danger had passed. You got a nudge from Marilyn, of course.

“Do whatever you want, but I, don’t, want, to know,” your mother said, leaving the building between indecipherable whispers and occasional bad words.

“Well, it’s done,” you said, hugging the redhead.

“And no signs of affection at school!” Your mother shouted, walking away.

“Oh my God, I thought it was going to give me a heart attack,” she said, resting her head on your shoulder.

“She will end up accepting it, believe me, I know her,” you said, kissing her on the lips.

“I'm not very sure, she will kill me when she has the chance.”

“Not if I'm here to prevent it,” you said amused, trying to forget the awkward moment. “Everything you said… It was beautiful.”

“I thought I was going to die,” Marilyn said, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“Well, at least I don't have to explain myself to anyone anymore,” you said, sighing. Marilyn looked at you with some pity.

“Will it go well for us?”

“Of course it will.”

“I hope you're right, (Y/N)... I could never live without you... Not anymore.”

“Me neither, Marilyn...”

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #wednesday #ms thornhill #oneshot #fluff

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spinningwebsandtales · 2 years ago

Text

Bittersweet

Nicholas D. Wolfwood X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Shoot out, thoughts of suicide, violence, blood, angst (like tons of angst), steamy scenes (I needed a shower after writing them hoo boy), and some fluff

Word Count: 9.3k

Requested by @moon-esque

(A/N:) Okay fellow Nicholas fangirls this request turned into an absolute monster! And I enjoyed every second of writing it! I also may have had a meltdown when I found the gif for it as well, as it’s absolute perfection. I am so thankful you gave me this request as I believe it may be my favorite one yet. As soon as I read it I got swarmed by ideas and I am really pleased with the way it turned out. I think I had a little too much fun with the angst tho. 😅 But I hope I did it justice and it’s everything you hoped for! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Side note: Parts in italics are flashbacks. Okay I’ll shut up now! XD

Nicholas D. Wolfwood didn’t know how he earned such a wonderful life when he finally settled down. How he came across you so sweet and beautiful, he couldn’t explain that either. Or the fact that you had fallen in love with him and told him yes on that fateful day that seemed so long ago. Noman’s Land had taken so much from him and he couldn’t remember the last time he had been happy, until he had you. Like the sun you were warm but not harsh. You didn’t burn him or sap away his strength until he felt like he couldn’t take another step further. His heart ached as he looked at pictures of you he kept in his pocket, torn and worn from use and fights. He also couldn’t help but sneer at the stain of blood in the corner of his favorite photo. If it was his blood or someone else’s he couldn’t tell as so much blood had been spilled. He was just glad it didn’t mar your face in the photo as he didn’t think he could stomach the thought.

He remembered those nights fondly with you, the little house you had picked out was perfect. Others would have seen it as cramped but growing up with nothing, it was a mansion to Nicholas. Home cooked meals every night with what little ingredients you could scrounge around for and afford tasted like a feast. But the moments he was happiest was when you both would go sit outside to watch the sunsets every night, hand in hand talking about your days. He closed his eyes his opposite hand rubbing across the palm you always held. He could have sworn that he could still feel your skin against his. Hot nights were ignored as he always wanted to hold onto you tightly. You tried shoving him away more than once but he stubbornly held on, toughing out your sweaty body against his. The desert had no remorse and neither did his want of you. You’d laugh, tell him that he stinks which only made him toss you into the old tub filled with precious water before he too would join you. You’d splash him once he sat down into the tub and he’d gently nibble at your digits. He’d kiss you despite the protests until your stubbornness was all but forgotten and your world was just filled with Nicholas.

While you slept he would lay awake staring at the ceiling while listening to your slow breathing. He too would sleep if the nightmares would leave him alone for once. But every time he closed his eyes, his conscious was filled with blood and the screams of the people when he took their lives. He may have been called the Punisher but all he was punishing now was himself. You tried getting him to talk about it but he never would open up, the fear that you would find out the monster he was and is overwhelmed him. He just knew that if you found out that you would leave him and then he would have no one else, besides the group of friends he made and hurt on occasions. Vash was glad for his friend when Nicholas told him the news about the wedding, though Nicholas felt a little guilty dragging you into his messed up life.

It turned out to be the best decision he ever made as the light started to come back in his life. Then the unthinkable happened, Nicholas left for work one morning and everything was normal. He finished his day, ready to see you and kiss you until you were breathless. But when he came upon his home it was dark, empty, and scorched. There was no sign of you and no answer no matter how loud or long he screamed your name. He beat at the sand, demanding that this forsaken land give you back to him. Blood coated the wood where it hadn’t burned to charcoal. Normally the sight of blood never made him sick, but the thought that it was yours had him retching stomach acid into the churned sand. He cried, tears streaking the grime on his cheeks until rage overtook him.

Nicholas came at anyone who he thought was possibly involved in your disappearance. He felt foolish believing that he could escape the Eye of Michael and it’s cronies. How could he bring you into something so terrible? Guilt riddled him as he thought of them taking you, subjecting you to whatever horrors they deemed fit as they had did to him as a child. His stomach churned in worry, but he couldn’t find any signs no matter how hard he looked. People either died to quickly or passed out from fear or the pain that he inflicted, he couldn’t get anywhere or come up with the answers he needed.

Those nights sitting with you out on the little porch of your home was getting hazier and hazier as time passed, while being covered by the blood he spilled and smeared across his name. He became feared once more The Punisher walking again, toting his cross shaped machine gun with no remorse or pity upon his targets. Not even his friends could make headway let alone find him as Nicholas constantly stayed on the move. He couldn’t stop as the thought of finding you was his driving force, staying at the front of his mind at all times. Even Vash couldn’t seem to track him down and it just made the blond haired man more frustrated the longer time went on.

A year passed since you disappeared, no trace ever came up again. No name, no breath of you, nothing. Nicholas finally cracked, despair swallowing him whole as he sat in a run down room in a sleazy inn contemplating ending it all. He refused to eat, he couldn’t remember the last time he had even bathed. He was unshaven, unkempt, and his clothes were beyond repair. But he couldn’t find the motivation to even care, you had become his everything his only sole purpose to breathe, and he had betrayed that abandoning you to whatever cruel fate had taken you. He unwrapped his weapon, searching blindly for the little pistol tucked inside. The weapon was perfect for him as it would mark his grave in a dark poetic sort of way. Though he felt like he didn’t deserve a grave, he prayed that they would just toss his corpse into the sand and let the worms have their share of him. Without you seeing him through, life held no meaning. You would have argued otherwise but you were no longer with him, you probably never even existed. He chuckled darkly, finally losing his mind as he was beginning to believe you had been some sort of figment the Eye of Michael had cooked up. Something to keep him complacent until the time came to rip you away and causing their greatest weapon to lose his mind and go on a search for revenge taking out the trash with him.

He cackled insanely finally finding the weapon he had been looking for. He couldn’t keep on, the sorrow and pain finally too much to bear. He didn’t deserve to go out quietly or easily. A old man’s natural death had never been a part of his plan in the universe, and he didn’t deserve you anyway he decided. You were the exact opposite the light in the darkness, the steady island in a storm. While he was a never ending black hole that sucked everything good in the world and destroyed it. He held the pistol to his chin ready to end it all, though he knew that it was pure cowardice driving him. Pressure squeezed upon the trigger, he closed his eyes welcoming the end of his pitiful existence when the door slammed open. The lock uselessly tumbling to the floor in shattered pieces.

Vash the Stampeded stood before him in the doorway, pistol drawn. Vash wasted no time pulling the trigger, shooting the weapon from his friend’s hand. He was more surprised at the state of the strong man before him than anything else. He shook his head watching the dark haired man sink into the thin mattress, as he finally gave in. Nicholas tried to hide the tears but they wouldn’t stop coming. He had purposely been avoiding Vash and Meryl for as long as he had been searching for you. He knew they wouldn’t approve of his methods and Vash would have ended up being more of a pain than a help as Nicholas dished out his form of searching. But now that he had finally given up on you, fate had to set the red coated man right there at the time of his lowest. Without you he didn’t think life was worth living. Without you Noman’s Land was emptier and far from ever being the same again. Vash looked to Meryl the woman suddenly frightened by the Punisher they had been beside for so long.

“Go ahead and wait in the other room. I’m going to stay with him and I would rather you not be around if he tries anything else,” Vash said turning back to his long lost friend. Without argument Meryl left leaving the two men alone. Vash didn’t know even where to begin as Nicholas just laid there despondent and clearly not going to come around anytime soon. With Meryl safe, Vash felt more comfortable to do whatever necessary to get the undertaker back on his feet. Despite how grim everything looked on the outcome of finding you, Vash couldn’t give up. Not when it came to the person who had brought such joy to Nicholas’ life. Finally Nicholas passed out, the physical and emotional exhaustion taking it’s toll and sweeping him under the waves. Deep in his unconscious state he could still feel you, hear you, and touch you. At first it seemed to be too cruel to stand but now he took more comfort in it than pain. The memories you both had shared and made together keeping some parts of him together, though those were starting to crumble too the longer he went without you.

“Nicholas,” your voice called. Nicholas grunted trying to stay in darkened bliss, but you were relentless when it came to the pursuit of what you wanted. You called a little louder before starting to jostle him around a little. This time you got a groan out of him and you laughed. You rubbed his chin, the scruff of his unshaven face tickling your palm.

“Wake up,” you cooed moving towards his ear. Despite being obnoxious and playing with his earlobe, Nicholas stubbornly remained asleep. You stroked his black locks, thinking about giving them a trim before you huffed in annoyance. He could sense danger and be on his feet in moments, but in these moments where he truly got the relax and cling to you he was hard to awaken. You thought it was mostly from his rough way of life and never really having a place where he felt comfortable. So you never gave him grief if he overslept or was hard to wake up. This morning was different though as you were ready to start your day and couldn’t free yourself of your husband’s tight grip. So now you decided that desperate measures were going to have to come into play. Cupping his jaws you lifted his head where you could reach before kissing him deeply on the lips. He stirred more, trying to break away but you stubbornly refused to let him go. It didn’t take long until he was lazily kissing you back, his lips a little chapped from the heat and dusty wind. Dark eyes opened, groggily staring at you with a little gleam of annoyance shining through. You beamed obnoxiously at him, glad that you finally got what you wanted.

“I swear,” you laughed kissing him again. “You could sleep anywhere and through anything Wolfwood.”

“Can,” he grumbled, “and have. But it’s hard to sleep through an incessant wife that refuses to let her beloved sleep.”

“You can keep sleeping,” you poked his nose. “But I need to get up. There’s food to make and chores to do.”

“And let my pillow go about her day? No thanks.”

“Your pillow is retiring so let me up,” you wiggled and squirmed. Nicholas just continued to glare which wasn’t working as he was too cute with his sleep mussed hair and groggy expression. You snorted trying to fix the worm’s nest he called hair to no avail. He wordlessly lifted himself off of you but kept a secure grip so you couldn’t get away from him. You sucked in a breath as he gently crawled his way up to your face. His warm breath puffing against your skin he slid one hand down towards yours before interlacing your fingers. He squeezed gently before pressing his forehead to yours making you both sigh in bliss. This had become a habit between you two, that no one else got to see or know. Nicholas had been the first one to do it and it just had become a thing between you both. You couldn’t think long about the history behind his gesture before he was kissing you deeply, taking your mind off everything but him. You sighed sinking further into the mattress while he kept one hand in yours and the other keeping him up over your body. Knowing he had you right where he wanted you Nicholas released you, licking your lingering taste from his lips before suddenly crashing down on top of you. You yelped and grunted at the sudden weight.

“Nicholas,” you gasped trying to shove him off, “you’re crushing me!”

He huffed, maneuvering the majority off of you but refusing to let you go as he nuzzled into your plush chest. His breathing began to slow letting you know that he was on the verge of going back to sleep.

“Noooo don’t go back to sleep,” you shrieked causing Nicholas to grumble but it didn’t take him long before he was back to sleeping just glad to have you in bed with him.

Nicholas blinked blearily as the sunlight streamed through the broken window of the room he had rented. His machine gun was clear across the room and no weapon was within his reach. He moaned wearily trying to rise from the bed as his joints protested. After all the horrors he had put himself through, he was finally paying the price of pushing himself so hard. Without seeing, he knew he wasn’t alone as the thoughts of last night came flooding back. He shook his head trying to disperse the last of the memory that had decided to haunt him in his sleep before rubbing at his eyes. A familiar red coat caught his eye before he spotted the sleeping Vash sitting in a chair at his bedside. For just a few moments he allowed himself to glare at the man who had interrupted him from finally getting the freedom from pain he so wanted. Without you nothing in life was worth living. Vash would completely disagree with Nicholas’ outlook, but the blond haired man had always had a sunny outlook no matter how bleak things looked. Nicholas scoffed, earning a tired grumble from the man he had called friend for many years. He got up to cross the room back to his weapon but Vash woke up before he could make it there.

“Get out.” Nicholas snarled his patience worn thinner than ever.

“Good morning to you too.” Vash replied getting up from the chair and stretching his limbs. He yawned widely scratching at his messy blond hair before his bright blue gaze settled upon the other man.

“I didn’t want your help and I don’t need it either,” Nicholas suddenly shouted. He was sure everyone in the inn could hear but at this point he no longer cared about anything. “And why did you stop me? I didn’t ask anything from you and this is my business to take care of!”

Vash glared back at him, though his eyes weren’t filled with rage but a sadness that ran so deep nobody could explore the depths. He had lost so much and was still losing daily for so long that he couldn’t keep up with everything. Vash had become so close to the man they called The Punisher he couldn’t stand the thought of him just throwing his life away, especially if there was even a iota of a chance you still lived. “And let another one of my friends die? I wasn’t going to let you kill yourself. (Y/N) is still out there and she needs you. What good are you if you’re dead?”

His brother’s forces are people who he knew well. He couldn’t help but think you were still alive. In his own way he had been looking as well but if he wasn’t careful he would wind up getting you killed by Knives, if his brother knew Vash had interest in you. It was a horrible game they had played for so very long and Vash had learned to play it well. Nicholas was a different player though and he couldn’t tell him what to do. Everything was falling apart and you were needing the man you loved greatly now and he about snuffed himself out. Vash was relieved that he could intervene just in time before your last hope was taken away.

“I didn’t want you to find me and she’s dead.” Nicholas suddenly whispered. “It would be better if I just met her now in the afterlife.”

“She’s not dead,” Vash replied the conviction strong in his voice.

“I would have found her by now Vash! Nobody is talking and do you think you can extract information better than I can?”

Nicholas knew that Vash didn’t believe in his methods, but he didn’t care, not at this point. If he thought the Eye of Michael was going to give out information without spilling a little blood, he had another thing coming. Though Vash knew the members well he didn’t have the strength to do what Nicholas could, at least that’s how the undertaker saw things. He didn’t know deep down inside that Vash knew that if it would have changed things he would have done it.

“They wouldn’t be trying so hard to keep you away if they weren’t keeping her alive,” Vash tried again to reason with him. “They don’t want you taking her back as they know they can control you that way.”

“They don’t want me to go on a rampage.”

“You ARE going on a rampage Nicholas!” Vash couldn’t believe it as he felt like he was losing more ground than gaining when it came to stubborn Nicholas. Did he not realize how sloppy he had gotten in his rage? The proof was littered across the land in the form of blood stained sand. “Do you want to know how I found you?! The corpses you left behind, it wasn’t hard to track you.” Vash shuddered at the memory of half alive corpses being gnawed on by worms and scavengers as they laid there barely breathing. The haunted mutterings of a dead man gone mad about a black shape, of the Punisher’s return and his quest for vengeance and answers. “If I can track you the Eye of Michael really are, keeping just out of your reach. Do you know how fast word travels especially when it comes to word on the Punisher making his big return? You idiot no wonder you’re not getting anything done by yourself. Besides do you think (Y/N) is that weak that she would die so easily?”

“No.” Nicholas couldn’t help but grin at the memory of you saving him more than once.

“Exactly. So stop sulking and get ready to go, we have to rescue her.” Vash left no room for arguments, “But before we do you have to shave that stupid beard off your face.”

Nicholas glared, “She always liked it.”

“I knew she had poor taste when she married you,” he laughed slapping the undertaker on the back. He left Nicholas alone with faith that he was back on his feet and wouldn’t try anything rash. Meryl was waiting outside the door, her eyes were a little wet as she had heard the conversation. Vash embraced her trying to comfort her as he wanted her at her best as they tried to survive, to bring you back home. He had to find food as Nicholas was weak and still on the verge of collapse from not taking care of himself. It would be a hard battle and he didn’t know the horrors that laid before them, but no preparation could have readied them for what they would find.

You were dragging behind him, the exhaustion of the trip finally taking it’s toll. Nicholas tried to walk slower but no matter what pace he took, you couldn’t keep up. He couldn’t blame you as you both had been traveling for some time, it was getting to him but he couldn’t afford to show you that. He wanted to stay strong for you and help you through the blocks you stumbled across. He had known you for a couple years now and he was protective and he enjoyed the company. You were less annoying than Vash and despite having a sharp tongue like Meryl he found that he could tolerate your sharp wit better. Though he still teased you as harshly as he did the dark haired woman. He grinned at the though of you and Meryl having an all out battle of wits. He would pay good money to see that, though he’d have to put his whole wager on you. Once you got mad enough nobody was able to outwit you. He found that out several times and had ended up with a red mark on his cheek on one or more occasions.

He smirked looking back at you, despite stumbling around you gave him a grin. You never complained sticking close to by his side, it always amazed him. When you both had first met it had seemed like chance, but now he could call it destiny as you had no reason to stay by his side. You were a bounty hunter and a good one at that. Your name traveled fast across Noman’s Land, that even he The Punisher knew just who you were. You had crossed his path, hunting another bounty when the people of the barely civilized town started shouting about the local orphanage. Without a word you and him sprung into action, taking no mercy upon the bandits that had decided they could pick upon the poor children and their caretakers. Nicholas watched in awe as you protected the little ones with no thought of your own safety, you’d even saved him a couple times that day. He grinned at the memory as you and he decided that day to not part ways but to become partners. He’d always worked alone, preferred it even. But since you came around he found that being alone wasn’t as fun anymore. You continued to carry your trusty weapon, but now using it for more than just money. You brought out the best in Nicholas and he felt better for it. He held out his hand to you as the sun begun to darken, his skin tough and calloused but still soft in it’s own way. You didn’t hesitate interlacing your fingers with his before he pressed his forehead to yours. You both continued to walk across the sand.

Vash was proving hard to keep up with to Nicholas now as his body was drained of all fight. But the stubborn man known as the Stampede refused to let his friend give up no matter what. Meryl stayed out of their way, afraid that any second Nicholas could lose it at any moment and that wasn’t far from the truth. Vash was the only one who didn’t fear him.

Vash didn’t say much or explain he just lead his team with a strength that could only come from certainty. When he had first met you while traveling with Nicholas he knew that you were good for the Undertaker. It was a match made that benefited both parties but mostly Nicholas as he had never really had anything good in life and whatever good was ripped away in a horrible way. But now he was dealing with loss again and without proof of your demise Vash wasn’t letting the possibility that you drew breath go down in flames until he had solid evidence that you did in fact perish in the Eye of Michael’s bout of revenge. He worriedly looked back as the dark haired man stumbled, clearly losing the fight to continue onward. Vash would drag him, carry him if need be. He needed you and you needed him, it was cruel fate in this world that had brought you two together and the same fate had ripped you from him. Vash wanted to stand before fate, tell it that it wasn’t going to do such a thing to his friend, even if it meant that he had to rip you from it’s horrible grasp.

Vash had met you several years ago when he had come across Nicholas once more in his journey. It was hard for him to imagine the Undertaker settling down so quickly with one woman. But as soon as you had said your name and shook Vash’s hand, he knew immediately why Nicholas had kept you around. You laughed easily and you could turn in a second and be serious. Plus you could give The Punisher a run for his money when needed. Vash found you easy to talk to so as the fire he had built glowed in the night, Vash sat closely lost in conversation. You both exchanged stories while Meryl sat at Vash’s side. The only one who wasn’t sitting nearby the group was Nicholas. Standing in the dark, a shadow lost in the desert and the only thing you could see was his lit cigarette gleaming when he took slow drags from it. Though you couldn’t see him you could feel a slight tension in the air. You just shrugged it off mentally as him pouting for not being the center of attention. You found you liked Vash, not in the way you loved Nicholas, but the blond haired man was so easy going, he was a jewel to talk with. You forgot your problems in the midst of company and you felt like you could relax like you hadn’t gotten to in years.

When the fire began to wane, everyone knew it was getting quite late. Vash helped you up from the sand with a gentle hand. You thanked him graciously and found your way to Nicholas. He glared at the retreating red coated man’s back. Jealousy was an ugly monster for everyone, but Nicholas had given in so easily. You weren’t going to put yourself forward to appease him as it was something that he was going to have to look on himself. You patted his cheek, leaving him there to go get yourself comfortable for sleeping. Moments later Nicholas laid down beside you, his body language stiff and full of anger. You rolled your eyes continuing to ignore him when he suddenly rolled you over. You found yourself looking straight into those livid dark eyes and without another word he kissed you deeply, putting all his frustrations out in the form of a rough and sloppy kiss. He left you breathless when he finally pulled away, pulling you possessively into his chest. He didn’t have to say a word as he felt like he had staked his claim once more. You laughed quietly letting him do whatever made him feel better. Vash was handsome but he couldn’t compare to your Nicholas.

Vash chuckled at the memory, looking back once more towards Nicholas. He seemed to be walking better now, his heavy cross no longer dragging him down so precariously. He seemed to have a new life being brought back with each step he took. Maybe hope was beginning to form back into his very being. Nicholas loved you like he had loved no other. He hid his feelings behind his cocky attitude or dark sunglasses. He refused to let anyone close or see the real him. Then he met you and he buried himself deeper, afraid that you would find the true being that hid inside. You forcefully drug him into the light, exposing all his darkness and you remained. You bared your darkness, showing him that he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t the only tragic being lost in the world. Everybody carried regrets, you were just created to help him through his. That’s why he married you, made you his officially. But just as much you were his, he was yours as well.

He couldn’t afford to let people know of his tragedy and what he brought upon the people just trying to make their way in the horrible uncaring world. He chuckled darkly seeing the blood still dripping from his rough skin. You had wiped that away, where he could see hands to be proud of. Once you disappeared that blood reappeared stronger than ever. He was drowning in a sea of crimson and all he could do was poor more into the sea as he drowned. He didn’t care who stood in his way, if they were a part of the evil that he had once been a part of they would die. Slowly, painfully, he would wrought upon then a thousand times worse than they could possibly think of to do to you. Stealing you away from him, was going to prove being the biggest mistake that they had ever made.

He grinned wickedly, madness once again taking over. Meryl shivered at the unhinged posture in Nicholas’ body, Vash just shook his head pain gripping his heart. You needed to still be alive, nobody else could shake him from this darkness swallowing Nicholas D. Wolfwood whole. Nicholas had once again become the man who was pushed by revenge and an objective to bring as much pain as possible to the people who wronged him. A true Punisher trekking across the sandy planet, staining it a deeper red with spilled blood of innocents and enemies alike. Vash needed your help, now more than ever.

They settled down when darkness coated the horizon and left them without a sliver of light to track. Nicholas sat far away from Vash and Meryl, preferring to be alone despite their protests. He looked up at the sky remembering looking at the worms dancing through the night sky with you. He missed those quiet moments on the porch with you. He could still feel you next to him, talking about mundane things you had done throughout the day. It made him grin as he never thought he would be able to have such a simple life with someone. The first night in the new house had been his favorite out of all the memories he shared with you.

It wasn’t much and it had been empty for so long that all the hospitality that a home brought had long ago left. But to Nicholas it looked like a mansion as he hadn’t known of much comfort in life. You were so happy to have a place to call home with your husband you adored. You wanted to be the best wife you could be for him as he wanted to be the best husband for you. You both worked together, cleaning what little you could with the little bit of supplies. There wasn’t much to eat but it felt like a feast as Nicholas sat across from you on the floor. You hummed in delight at each bite and it was catching as Nicholas began scarfing down his share.

The night was quickly coming, darkening the few rooms to where it was hard to see. You had a couple threadbare blankets draped across the floor as a makeshift bed, but you only had one pillow. Nicholas searched for you in the dark, his hand finally finding your arm he pulled you to him. The silver light from the moons streaking across the floor and painted your smaller form in pale light. Nicholas licked his lips, finally having you to himself in private. A hunger had been stewing in his being and as soon as he closed the rickety door to the bedroom, it erupted and he had to sate himself before he went wild.

You trembled slightly in his grip sensing his needs and feeling the same as him. Now that he could see you better thanks to the moons’ light he stroked your hair letting the long tendrils slip through his fingers while the other roamed your feminine form. You stroked his face, feeling the sharp lines of his jaw littered with a sparse beard. He explored you as he opened himself to you. He untangled his fingers from your soft locks to thread through your fingers. He kissed the back of your hand, littering every scar and callous with a loving kiss and making his way up your arm. Nicholas nibbled at your neck causing you to moan and moving your head to give him better access before he pressed his forehead to yours. He stood there for awhile just enjoying taking in your scent and the feel of your body against his burning one. He was an impatient man and when you tugged at the few buttons that he kept buttoned on his shirt did his patience fly out the window. Before laying you down on the blankets laid across the floor he removed the shirt that had you so desperately tried to remove yourself. Nicholas hovered above you pressing kisses wherever he could, losing himself to you in the darkness. You held onto him tightly, grasping his back as he devoured you.

Nicholas awoke to sunlight streaming through the window across him and your bodies pressed together. Your haired glowed like a halo in the light and your skin a caramel kissed by the golden rays. He sucked in a breath as he lost himself in your beauty. He could still fell your lips pressed against his while you nipped at his collarbone. Your body tattooed against his fingertips and scratches littered across his scarred back. He chuckled laying back but still holding you into his side. He dug a cigarette from his abandoned pants laying in a pile on the floor. He lit a match, igniting the cigarette and blowing a cloud up in the air. You groaned in your sleep, tapping his bare chest.

“No smoking in the house,” you mumbled causing him to chuckle.

“Let me have this just this once,” he replied. “You tired me out last night.”

“You’re the one who thought once wasn’t enough,” you glared sleepily but relented in the argument with pink tinged cheeks. He squeezed you, thanking everything he could think of that he had you laid beside him in his little world.

Married life became easier and easier as the days passed. Nicholas found a job where he could bring a little money home to you and you were able to stay home to greet him every day. That was his favorite time of the day as you waited at the door, the light shining behind you silhouetting your shapely form just for him. Some nights he would just kiss you, others he would spin you around before kissing you, if he was feeling really lively he would dip you then press hot kisses to your mouth before deepening them. But majority of the time he would interlace your fingers together, kiss you deeply, tongue stroking against yours, and then press his forehead to yours. You had said that those were your absolute favorite, so he indulged you with this type of affection every time he could. He remembered one evening you were beyond ecstatic for him to be home. You had your hands behind your back as you danced from foot to foot. Nicholas began to wonder if someone had put worms down your pants when you pulled a piece of fabric from behind your back.

“I sewed us some curtains so maybe the sun won’t bother you as much in the mornings,” you shouted gleefully. Though definitely not sewn by a professional with the stitching all crooked and imperfect. You were so proud of yourself that Nicholas couldn’t help but fall in love with you further and love the curtains you made for the home. The next evening you had made him a handkerchief that he wore in his pocket proudly. That fateful morning though when he left, everything had been normal. You sent him off with lunch and a quick kiss. You always stood in the doorway watching him leave until you could see him no longer, then you’d go back inside and do whatever needed to be done.

Nicholas had been excited all day to leave work, to go home and see you as he earned a little extra income, so he stopped on his way home to buy a special treat for you both. With a slice of cake in tow for each of you he headed home. He expected to see you standing in the doorway like normal, waiting for his return. But instead of your form greeting him, he was met with smoke as his and your house smoldered from a raging fire. He screamed, dropping the treats into the sand while he stumbled down the dunes of sand between him and home. He called your name, screaming it until his throat strained. Still you didn’t answer, the smoke stung his eyes causing tears to stream down his dirty face as he took in his destroyed home. The curtains you had made so carefully fluttering in singed tatters. Still no sign of you remained just large puddles of blood and then a long streak that ended a few yards out in the desert. Nicholas knew immediately who had done such a thing, he found his machine gun he had put away just for you, scorched but still in working order and set off to destroy the people who took you from him.

Nicholas groaned in his sleep, patting at his side to try and find you lying right beside him. All his hand met was cold sand and the cool metal of his machine gun. He huffed as the memories of your disappearance rushed back all at once. He heaved a sigh pushing himself upwards and looking towards the horizon. The first pink light of morning greeted him as did Vash’s snores and Meryl’s quiet breathing. He pulled a cigarette and rose from the ground before lighting it. He smoked several before the other two even started to stir. He had thought hard about just leaving them again, but Vash had the uncanny ability of being exactly where Nicholas didn’t want him, so to save himself rage he decided to stay. Vash knew exactly where he was going and despite his best efforts Nicholas hadn’t made any headway in finding you. If Vash was correct that you still were alive, he’d owe that stupid needle noggin a drink. Several drinks. He scoffed throwing down the stub left of his cigarette and put it out with his shoe.

“Glad of you to join me,” he growled. “You two going to get up or do I have to start the day myself?”

“Breakfast first,” Meryl replied before turning over and falling back to sleep. Vash chuckled but Nicholas was not amused.

Once they were back making progress Nicholas didn’t seem as anxious, though he was walking better today than he had yesterday. He couldn’t shake the feeling that you were close. His heart was hammering against his chest and he couldn’t fight down the butterflies in his stomach. His eyes darted around, trying to spot any movement or sights of anything particular. All he could see was the large expanse of sand stretching as far as the eyes can see. Vash was talking with Meryl, both laughing about something Vash said when Nicholas suddenly stopped and stiffened. He caught a scent on the air and the gleam of metal a few yards away.

“Get down,” he roared racing back to the others. He jumped, tackling them to the sand when a gunshot rang out. A high caliber sniper rifle by the sound of it. Nicholas returned fire, his stomach suddenly sick. The gunshots echoed through the sky, bouncing off the mountains miles away. Nicholas snarled, baring his teeth as he spun his weapon around.

“Sniper,” Vash yelled pushing Meryl back further.

“Thanks for the info,” Nicholas snarled. “I didn’t notice!”

“This is no time for being sarcastic,” Meryl screamed trying to protect her head.

“Then tell your boyfriend quit stating the obvious,” Nicholas roared again returning fire. Another shot echoed hitting the sand next to his feet. Nicholas danced around trying to make himself a harder target. Vash scurried around trying to keep from being hit. Shots were exchanged over and over again, filling the expanse with nothing but the sounds of gunfire like some sadistic orchestra. Nicholas panted, trying to reload as fast as he could, before he spotted a blond blur race across the sand. Nicholas cursed abandoning reloading to chase after the idiot. He should of known Vash wasn’t going to make this easy for him as he caught up to him.

“What are you doing?!”

“I can’t let you two kill each other,” Vash replied still running. Another shot rang out, hitting the sand between them. Vash yelped and Nicholas cursed again.

“You’re going to get yourself killed instead you idiot,” Nicholas threw an empty clip at him. Vash only laughed crazily while dodging the clip.

“Stop laughing!”

It was obvious where they’re attacker was laid up as they kept shooting at him and Vash while they raced towards where the shots were coming from. Nicholas was finally able to reload before they got there and the sight before them chilled his blood. The Eye of Michael had done it again. Thoughts of Livio raced forward churning his stomach but this time he couldn’t tell who the person was before him. It was a woman, the majority of her face covered by a metal mask. Her hair had been cut haphazardly, leaving it choppy and wild. Eyes that normally would show emotion and thoughts behind them, were blank and her movements were robotic. Nicholas raised, aiming at their attacker when Vash bumped into him.

“Watch it needle noggin,” he shoved him away.

“Don’t kill her,” Vash yelled once again racing forward putting himself in harms way.

“She’s trying to kill us!”

“She’s being controlled,” Vash tried to get Nicholas out of killing mode. The dark haired man wasn’t having it as he aimed again. But this time Vash stepped in front of the woman. Nicholas cursed, contemplating just shooting through Vash and killing them both in one go. At least he’d have some form of revenge against his attacker and get rid of a headache to boot. At last his more rational side tore through and he lowered the gun. But it wasn’t wasted on him that she pulled a pistol from behind her back, shooting at Vash who was still dodging bullets like it was some sort of deadly dance. Nicholas charged forward his feet churning up sand as he reared the large, heavy machine gun with his whole body and swung it like a bat. He hit the strange assassin at her side sending her sideways several feet.

“Quit playing patty cake with her,” Nicholas shouted. “You’re going to die! We end this now!”

“Don’t,” Vash panted. “Don’t kill her Nicholas.”

Nicholas racked another round into the chamber, “Yeah cause she’s so intent on making up and becoming friends.”

“You’ll regret it,” Vash tried to argue.

“There’s bigger things that I regret. Taking out another nobody is not going to be another one.”

She still laid sprawled out, trying to rise from the ground. Nicholas reared a foot back sending it into her side, cracking a rib and putting her on her back. She didn’t even cry out in pain due to the control she was under. It reminded him so much of Livio it made his arm tremble as he aimed. He put a foot on her chest keeping her pinned. He shook his head trying to rid himself of doubts, it gave her freedom to suddenly reach for her boot and pull a knife. Without a second thought she plunged it into Nicholas’ thigh. He grunted stumbling backwards as blood began to ooze down his thigh.

“You sorry,” he started but she ambushed him. Swinging and shooting, he barely kept up. Twisting his body, stepping backwards, and using his cross as a shield. With the barrage he couldn’t return anything until she stumbled. He swung across hitting her straight across the jaw. His hand cracked but her mask shattered. What he saw next caused him to sink down and scream out in anguish.

His (Y/N) stood right before him, her stare as blank as the dead. What made her her was nowhere to be found as she continued to rock from the hit he just gave her. Vash dropped his head feeling Nicholas’ despair coat the atmosphere.

“No! No no no no! It can’t be,” his voice cracked. All he could do was scream at the sky and curse everything that had brought him here to this moment. He wanted to find you so bad, but he never wanted to find you this way. Brainwashed and used for something you weren’t meant to. It was Livio all over again and he found it worse. They tainted you, stripping you from your humanity making you into a killing machine. He should have seen it, should have protected you. His failures all came crashing down burying him quickly to where he could drown from the overwhelming anguish.

“Don’t kill her,” Vash cried trying to crawl forward.

“I,” Nicholas heaved as he teetered on the verge of throwing up and taking his own life again. “I can’t! I can’t do it!”

“Save her,” Vash tried again.

“I can’t!”

“You can! Nicholas please!”

“Kill me,” Nicholas pleaded. “Vash shoot me please I can’t stand it!”

“She needs you,” Vash screamed tears flowing down his cheeks. Nicholas sobbed loudly, his tears staining the sand while blood spread around him from the knife still lodged in his thigh.

“They took her from me! Kill me Vash!”

“I am not shooting you!” Vash was growing angry. He had felt such despair like Nicholas was feeling, but not getting up and dealing with the problem was solving nothing. Nicholas couldn’t look at your face without the guilt eating at his insides.

“Nicholas she’s crying,” Vash finally made it to his side forcing the Undertaker to look up. Sure enough you stood before the two men, whole body shaking and tears flowing freely from one eye that wasn’t swelling shut.

“She’s still in there don’t give up on her. She’s fighting,” Vash shook Nicholas violently. “Get your stupid pigheaded butt up and save your wife right now or I may just change my mind and shoot you anyway!”

Nicholas rose, his legs shaking. He stumbled almost falling back down as his body fought the whole way. She was right there, not in a good state but he had wanted to find her. It had felt like his sole purpose when she was stolen from him. Now she was here and needed him now more than ever. He would have crawled through the very pits of torment to find her and bring her back. He had never thought about them turning her into a weapon. Before finding him she had been the best bounty hunter. She could give him a run for his money when it came to aim and fighting. It made him chuckle at their shooting contests before grimacing. She was definitely better on her game as he still was sporting her wound that made walking harder. He would lose all the blood in his body if it would bring her back, he would let her shoot him before he ever riddled her lovely body with bullet holes. He almost did and it made him sick. He was stupid he should have realized it was her way before he broke the horrible mask they had forced upon her.

“(Y/N),” he smirked before coughing up blood. “Come back to me.”

She shook her head, fighting for control but the programming was taking it’s toll as she reached for another pistol. Nicholas walked right into the barrel, encircling her wrist with his hand and lowering the weapon to point to the ground. She fought at first her strength waning as she tried to raise it back up to his face. He kept a steady grip keeping it pointed down while he wiped the blood on his pants leg off his other hand. He reached up stroking her cheek, she flinched from the touch before calming back down.

“N…N,” she tried to speak and he shushed her. He trailed downwards from her cheek, sliding across her neck, and down her arm to where he could grasp her hand. Stroking at the skin on the back of her hand he gave himself time before threading her digits with his. She gasped in a breath, light going in and out of her eyes. He grinned taking his time with bringing her back to him. Leaning downwards Nicholas took in her scent, his hot breath puffing across the skin of her collarbone and neck. She shivered involuntary the old (Y/N) still under the surface fighting to get out. He took his time looking right into her eyes before he finally made it to his destination. Nicholas gently placed his forehead to hers.

“Wake up already would you,” he whispered breathlessly. She gasped in his grasp and fell to the ground. Nicholas caught her, grunting from the weight on his injured leg. You cried loudly, unable to move just laying limply in Nicholas’ arms.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed ashamed to look in the face of your husband. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Nicholas shushed you kissing you deeply. “I’m the one who should be sorry. This is all my fault.”

“I tried to kill you,” you wailed. “You and Vash! And Meryl!” Tears wouldn’t stop flowing as they streaked the dirt and blood across your face.

“It’s not like you never wanted to kill me before,” he chuckled darkly.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, “No never kill. Maybe stab a couple of times or something but I don’t think I could live without you.”

Nicholas grimaced moving his leg around a little with the knife handle still sticking up. “Well you succeeded in getting one stab in at least.”

You gasped touching the handle and causing him to hiss. “Still a little tender,” he winked.

“I’m sorry!”

“I’m not,” he whispered. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

“Thank you for bringing me back,” you whispered back. “Though you did bust my face up and break one of my ribs.” Nicholas grimaced but wasted no time in kissing you again. Vash stumbled back to where Meryl waited to check up on her and giving you two a little privacy. You tended to Nicholas and yourself as best as you could, you would need to get you both to the nearest town for an actual doctor to take care of your and his wounds. But for now you both wanted to just stay there for a little while longer and not think of all the horrible things that just happened. Nicholas cursed a little later when he remembered he promised Vash drinks if he was correct in your state. Though you hadn’t been yourself when found, you were still alive. You looked at your husband worriedly before he waved the concern away. You would just laugh at his dilemma anyway. Vash helped you two get back home after Nicholas and you had been seen by a professional doctor and cleared to go home.

You took in the state of you and Nicholas’ home, hot tears coming quickly at the state of the wreckage. Nicholas held you close knowing that you two were more than a house.

“Anywhere with you is home to me,” he finally spoke after you cried for a little while. “We’ll build it back better than ever.”

“We don’t have to,” you said worried about the funds.

“I’ll keep working and we’ll use it to build it however you want,” he kissed you. “Your wish is my command m’lady.”

“Can we get a room in town to stay until then?”

“Already on it.” Nicholas lead you towards the darkened city. “Vash is useful when he’s not being annoying.”

You laughed, “He’s your best friend.”

“Unfortunately,” Nicholas snorted. You laughed, refusing to let go of Nicholas. You had been so afraid that you would never get to see him again when you were captured. You had thought about him every moment of every day until they had stripped everything from you. Then all you could remember is the blackness that engulfed you. You shivered at the thought of the blank being they had created from you. Nicholas mistakenly took your shivers as you being cold as he held you tighter. He never wanted to lose you in such a way ever again. He didn’t care that his past had come back to haunt him, he didn’t care who he had to take out. As long as you were safe and by his side he needing nothing else. You were his everything his world that he wouldn’t give up for anything. He looked down at you with a warm smile.

“I think I need to catch up on the loving you’ve been holding out on me,” he smirked and you blushed.

You slapped his chest, “Pervert. Is that all you think about?”

“When it comes to you yes. And how am I a pervert when I’m your husband?”

You huffed looking away teasingly, “You just are it’s your natural mentality.”

“Like you don’t think about me in a perverted way.”

“Never.”

“I beg to differ,” he snorted leaning in towards your ear. “Remember that one night…”

“Stop,” you screeched blush rushing down to your neck. Nicholas laughed causing your heart to skip a beat. How you had missed him, you never wanted to be taken away from him ever again. You stepped closer intertwining your fingers. Nicholas bumped your forehead quickly as he didn’t want to stop walking. The desert was becoming cold and he was ready for a room to spend the night with you once more. He had found you and he didn’t care what he had done to get you back by his side. He never regretted anything and he would tell anyone who asked that he would do everything the same as the outcome had brought you back. He squeezed you tighter losing himself in your presence. You were his paradise, it didn’t matter where he was at as long as he had you and you felt the same way. The worms light the sky as you both came to the city, ready to rebuild your lives after the terror had torn it apart. Hand in hand you both faced the future bravely and ready for whatever arose.

#Nicholas D Wolfwood X Reader #Nicholas D Wolfwood / Reader #Trigun Stampede #Nicholas D Wolfwood #Trigun #Request #Not My Gif #My Writing

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