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dailyaudiobiblechronological · 2 years ago

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5/8/2023 DAB Chronological Transcriptions

Psalm 25, Psalm 29, Psalm 33, Psalm 36, Psalm 39

It's. Welcome to Daily Audio Bible Chronological, I'm Jill. Today is the 8th day of May, and boy, are we just cruising right along in this year and this month, which ultimately means we're just cruising right along in reading the Word of God in chronological order. And what a joy, what a complete honor it is to be here with you this week. So it's so good to be back with you and commit this week, consecrate this week to the Lord and to invite him to do what it is that he desires to say to us, to speak to us, to speak through us and to really just tweak and change in our hearts and our minds and our lives so that we would be representatives of the love of Jesus Christ. So just take a second here today. It's the front end of the week and that can be really stressful. Just take a deep breath. We're going to just take a second here and let go of all of the things that would compete for our attention in these next few minutes or so in this space. Just take a minute to breathe. Take a deep breath in and hold it and exhale. And we just let go of the appointments that may be on the schedule for today, for thinking about what dinner we have to make for today, for today, maybe just releasing the tension that you're holding for the person that just cut you off on your commute. We release them to God. The fight that you had this morning, maybe with your child on the way to school, exhale that away. And we invite the peace of Christ into these minutes as His Word washes over us. And really there's nothing that needs our attention that we cannot get to at the end of this, unless of course, there's a medical emergency of some sort. And even that we invite the peace of Jesus that surpasses all understanding into this time. So, Father, we recognize that you are here. Your Spirit is present among us. We open ourselves to receive all that you want to say to us, speak to our hearts and change us from the inside out we pray. Today we are reading the Psalms. We're gonna jump around, just a little bit. We're gonna begin with Psalm 25, jump to Psalm 29, and move, gonna move to Psalm 33, Psalm 36, and then we will end with Psalm 39 today. This week we are reading the New English Translation, Psalm 25. Commentary

So if we just want to take a look at Psalm 36 today, it might be a difficult look. By the way, just a little disclaimer, quite an opening line. Are you ready for this? An evil man is rebellious to the core. We could just do a full stop right there. An evil man is rebellious to the core. What's interesting to me is the Wording is not a rebellious man is evil, but rather in this context, David declares the heart of evil in man. And there's a whole lot more to say based on this verse. But if we're just stopping right there. I am so convicted with just that right there, because I look back at the decisions I made in my life, I look back at my own rebelliousness, almost wearing it as a badge of honor at times in my life. And if you've been here since the beginning of the year, we laid some ground rules, if you remember. And one way to not read the Bible is to read it and think about how these verses apply to all these other people in your lives. It does bring clarity sometimes. Maybe if you are dealing with a toxic relationship or a toxic person or an abusive person. But the Bible should be read as a mirror, as a reflection of our own hearts, our own lives. And so we have to read this and say, okay, how is this applicable to me, the reader? And maybe we start with the really hard verse in the 36th chapter. An evil man is rebellious to the core. We can so easily define evil for God, and it's usually on the outside of this Christian barricade. We have surrounded ourselves within, and it then becomes us versus them and them. They are the evil ones on the outskirts, trying to inflict evil upon us. What we fail to realize is that we are all capable of evil. We are all capable of sin falling short. And so I hear this verse and I just it makes me a little nauseous if I'm just being honest. I have many times in my life felt like I was going to exercise my rights and my freedoms. And what I realized is you can do that and still be in complete rebellion to God. You can still live outside of the fear of God. I can still live in the freedom of Christ and not care about doing what is wise and right. I have not rejected what is evil. So let's move ahead to Psalm 39 and let's talk about that for a quick second. I decided I will watch what I say and make sure I do not sin with my tongue. I will put a muzzle over my mouth while in the presence of an evil person. If David clues us in on evil in verse 36, that evil is rebellious to the core, then let's apply that. I decided I will watch what I say and make sure I do not sin with my tongue. I will put a muzzle over my mouth while in the presence of a rebellious person. Have you ever tried to stay silent in the presence of a rebellious person? Have you ever tried to silence yourself in the heart of your rebellion? This cuts so deep if I'm just being honest. How much have we felt the need to defend our choices? How much have we decided the louder the better. How much have we defended our faith, our God, our freedoms? And maybe what we were declaring out of our mouth is our rebelliousness. How many times have we chosen words when what we needed was silence? Never underestimate the power of silence. Never let someone tell you that silence is weakness. The other times we have stayed silent when we could have should have spoken against blatant evil, blatant wrongdoing, blatant abuse. But the difference is living in the fear of the Lord and asking for wisdom and guidance of knowing when words are needed and when our silence can speak more profoundly than anything we could say. And I challenge us all, myself included. I am never not included in what I am speaking. It starts here first. But I do challenge us all today to take a few minutes and take some deep, necessary inventory at the rebelliousness inside of each of us. It might not be major, major things that we're saying no to, but it could be little things that we're just not willing to do. We are just going to go against what God has asked of us in these little decisions that we have just gotten so accustomed to that we don't even realize how we're operating. We don't even realize that it's in direct opposition to what God has asked of us according to his word, according to his voice in our lives. And as we ask, I pray that we would make space, make room for the Holy Spirit to show us those things. And please note the voice of God, the voice of the Spirit of God is never to condemn. If you hear condemnation, that is not the voice of God, but the voice of God does come to convict our heart, say, here's where we went wrong. But there is not a voice of shame. There's no name calling. There's no belittlement or dehumanization. It's a gentle voice. We can do better here. This is where we went wrong and this is how we will change this. Prayer

And so my prayer today for us is one of ancient prayers from the Book of Common Prayer that I love and that I have made a regular rhythm in my life. And it says this most merciful God, I confess that I have sinned against you in thought, word and deed, by what I have done and by what I have left undone. I have not loved you with my whole heart. I have not loved my neighbor as myself. I am truly sorry and I humbly repent for the sake of Your Son, Jesus Christ. Have mercy on me and forgive me that I may delight in Your will and walk in Your ways to the glory of Your name. And I pray this in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, amen. Outro

We end here today. I would encourage you to spend a few more minutes taking that internal inventory of those little decisions that we make every day that lead us into every choice, every action, everything we say and do. And what is God speaking that we need to surrender to Him under His Lordship, under his authority to say, I'm done doing this on my own and not recognizing the fear of the Lord and how this affects my relationship with God and how this affects people around me as a representative of Jesus Christ. Stay in it and know that there is grace at the end of that inventory list. So if you're journaling and taking note, make sure you write grace. Grace and mercy for all of it. I'm Jill. We'll turn the page together tomorrow. Until then, love one another. Community Prayer Line

Grace and peace. Everyone. This is Brother Lenny, the truth seeker, calling out of Maryland, and certainly pray that this day finds you well. Been trying to record this message for a bit, and there is a DABber who just popped into my mind maybe a couple of days ago. I am new to DABC. This is my second year. And last year there was a dear sister, Sister Whitney, who would call in quite frequently requesting prayers. And literally as I was brushing my teeth, her name popped up in my spirit. And Sister Whitney, I certainly just wanted to pray for you on today. Father God, we thank you so much for who you are. We thank you for your grace, your mercy. And today I just want to lift up my sister, want to ask that you continue to watch over her. We know that last year was a year full of challenges, a year full of grief and sadness. But, God, I'm just asking that you remind her that you have promised that you would never be far off from us. I ask that whatever her needs are, whether it be emotional, spiritual, physical, financial, that, God, that you are the God who sees us where we are and meets our needs. So, God, I just want to lift up a prayer of solidarity for my beloved sister. That you would continue to just embrace her, that you would continue to keep your arms around her, continue to whisper to her, and to let her know that she is loved, that you are with her, that you will never leave her, that you will never forsake her. And, God, I just thank you for what you are yet to do in her life, in the life of all of those who are called according to your purpose. All right, Deborah. May the Lord God bless and keep you. May he cause his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you. May he lift up his countenance upon you, and may he give you his peace. Good morning, DABC. This is Deborah from Michigan. I heard a prayer request on April 15 from a daughter whose 81 year old mother was having pain in her jaw, and no one could figure out what it was from. My background is I have a degree in dental hygiene, and it sounds to me as if your mother may be suffering from something that's called trigeminal neurogia. I would have that checked out. My grandmother suffered from that. It's severe, intense pain of the jaw caused by the nerve flaring up in that area of the mouth and jaw. It's worth looking at. It can be treated, and I hope this helps and you've been heavy on my mind. God bless and thank you, Dab, for all you do. Good morning, DABC family. This is Roxanne from Greenville, North Carolina. I'm calling to request prayer for a friend of mine. I would say he's a coworker as well. He works where I work at another state in Pennsylvania, and his name is Joel. I would ask that you would pray for him. He just found out that he has stage four pancreatic cancer and also pray for his wife too. She broke her back. So they're moving back to be closer to their family in Lancaster, PA. He'll still be working and everything. The doctors have given him some good news. He has a specific gene. I can't remember what it is, but it's supposedly this gene does something to cancer to give them more time. But we also know that God is the ultimate physician, so imperia is powerful. And I mentioned to him that I was going to be praying for him and so was my small group and the people in DABC. And I told him a little bit about the daily audio Bible. I don't know if he's saved or not, but he believes in prayer. And I told him about how we all around the world, brothers and sisters, a family, are praying for people and that people all over the world will be praying for him. So I just ask that you would continue to lift him up. I pray for healing, ask that you pray for healing, for peace, and just if there's an opportunity for me to talk to him about Christ, please pray that I find that as well. I love you guys. I thank you so much for this podcast. Talk to you later. Bye. One thing I just wanted to also say to Emmy from Illinois, and I don't know if you guys will add this. It's just that I love you and we love you and we will be praying for you. And you have just shown such great strength and faith in trying. And you should definitely not feel bad about that because I did ask my husband to go to counseling as well, and mine would not go. You got yours to actually go and you tried. And I think that's what God really wanted us to try to choose, to try to stay together and to try to work things out. And I just want you to know that you are so loved by Him and you are his daughter, and to just draw close to him. And that's something that took me a while. I needed to draw closer to the Lord because he never leaves. He will never leave. He always loves you. He will always be there for you. And I wanted to add that in Emmy. The Lord is close to the broken hearted we love you so much I just pray that you go.

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wisteriashouse · 4 years ago

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Can you write hcs for Gyomei and Sanemi with a fem reader if they had a family.

characters: himejima gyomei, shinazugawa sanemi

genre: fluff, family;

a/n: the idea of sanemi having a kid makes me cry i apologise because his was so long i’m lowkey tempted to turn it into a fic

himejima gyomei

big gentle giant would be the perfect dad

he’s had experience taking care at the kids at the orphanage when he was younger, so he has a soft, tender spot for young children

*except kaigaku fuck that kid*

when he found out that you were pregnant with his child, he cries (of course), but in a different way

it’s not just the usual tears streaming down his face, his huge chest heaves quietly with emotion and you tear up yourself at the sight, wrapping your arms around him

as a pillar of the demon slayer corps, gyomei has lived life knowing that he might not make it to the next day

so the fact that you’re building a family together with him makes him think about the future, and it’s this fact that really hits him - that muzan has truly been defeated, and that he can finally live in peace now

would be extremely cautious the first time he holds his child in his arms, asking you to help place his fingertips on the baby’s cheeks so that he can feel their features without hurting their delicate eyes

it’s like he’s holding porcelain - he’s so cautious

so small. so delicate. it’s like he’s holding a treasure in his hands, he thinks.

cries again (of course)

“he/she looks like you, gyomei,” you whisper, and gyomei’s breath catches in his chest, emotion stifling his words in his throat

“is that so?” he whispers back, as if afraid that he will disturb the baby if he’s too loud. his huge hand gently clasps the baby’s tiny hand in his own

probably wants a large family - about five kids or more

helps a lot with housework and general child rearing

insane dad reflexes/paternal instincts

petty squabble ongoing? gyomei knows. temari ball in the lake? gyomei’s already rising to his feet to get it. baby trying to eat a lizard? gyomei’s reaching for it before you can scream at the sight.

his kids love his amazing strength - it’s not uncommon to see them clambering over him and hanging from his arms like he’s a tree in the backyard

his children become excellent climbers

generally a gentle, soft spoken but stern father, his voice carries authority even though he never raises it

dedicated to instilling moral values, being compassionate and kind in every one of his children

he’s an amazing role model for his kids

a shoulder that they can cry and rely on

shinazugawa sanemi

desperately wants a family of his own

for so many years, sanemi has fought tooth and claw to bury this quiet desire in his chest with the excuse that he has no time to think about starting a family, not when demons run amok killing innocents, not when he might die any day, any second

but after the war, when seasons gradually pass and fresh wisteria begin to bloom at the ubuyashiki estate once more, covering the ashes from the explosion on the night of the final battle, sanemi can’t help but begin to think about the future

with you, he dares to hope for happiness

he doesn’t actively try for a child, part of him is still reluctant in so many ways. most of the time he beds you, sanemi tries not to think too much about it

so he’s shocked when he finds out that you’re with his child

when he hears the news, sanemi doesn’t know quite how to feel - all he knows is that his hands are trembling and cold sweat dots his brow - he hasn’t felt this afraid in a long, long time

he has a child. it’s his child, his flesh and blood, a gift from the heavens from your union

and he’s terrified

what if something happens during the pregnancy stage? what if something happens to the child? what if something happens to you? sanemi has already lost so many people - he cannot lose you and this unborn child of his that he hasn’t even seen with his own eyes

it would destroy him

this man has a severe case of emotional constipation so he tries to keep mum about it after a while, but you notice, of course

you work out what’s going on after a bit and have a serious talk with him about it, telling his to believe in your future together

extremely protective over you during the pregnancy, flat out refusing that you do anything strenuous during this critical period - you have to fight to get the broom back from him so that you can actually do something around the house

will throw hands with someone who so much as breathes wrong in your direction

sanemi pls calm down

during the actual childbirth, he’s forced to wait outside while you birth the child

tomioka - tomioka, of all people - is the one who sits by his side without a word, and for once, sanemi appreciates his presence

he prays desperately to any god out there, please, let your childbirth be a safe one, please, let your child come out alright, please-

it goes fine

when sanemi holds the baby in his scarred arms for the first time, he’s completely wordless, tracing his fingers delicately over the baby’s little forehead, brow, nose, lips

you’re a little worried if you broke something in him, but when the newborn grasps sanemi’s finger in their hand tightly, you see sanemi’s back shudder

five second later he’s trembling with the force of his sobs, fighting to keep them down but fat tears are falling down his cheeks as emotion washes and crashes over him

you laugh tiredly in the bed at the sight, and all sanemi manages to choke out is “... they’re ugly as fuck...”

“they look like you, that’s why”

after the childbirth sanemi relaxes significantly, but he’s still very worried about you and the child

contrary to what he says sanemi doesn’t think he’s seen a more beautiful sight

a strict dad, but would have very soft spots for daughters

10/10 overprotective dad

would encourage his kids to throw hands with whichever asshole dares to mess with them, teaches them to throw hands since the day they’re toddlers

“sanemi they can barely walk!!”

“hah? if they can walk they can swing-”

sneaks them treats when he thinks you’re not watching

his kids grow up a little rough, but with a strong sense of justice they get from watching their father

god he’s such a grumpy man but they see the way he treats the weak, elderly and children, with awkward gentleness and fierce protectiveness

they definitely get a family dog!! maybe a shiba inu or a golden retriever

when they’re younger, sanemi finds it a little difficult to connect with them due to his crude tongue, which can lead to conflict and arguments about him seeming unsympathetic

in this aspect, you’ll have to step in to bridge the gap

his children love him dearly, because no matter how barbed his tongue or how rough his personality, it’s difficult to deny just how much he cares about them, even if they want to

his kids love teasing him once they’re a little more grown up, trying to make him admit how soft he actually is

he loves them to bits and would do anything for them

the one thing he hates about them though is how much they like their uncle tomioka too

#demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kimetsu sanemi #kimetsu himejima #himejima x reader #gyomei #kny gyomei #gyomei x reader #kimetsu no yaiba gyomei #gyomei himejima #sanemi fanart #demon slayer shinazugawa #shinazugawa x reader #sanemi #kny #kny fanfic

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untaemedqueen · 4 years ago

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Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 10.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love,

Warnings In This Chapter: Heart To Heart, Fluff, Infidelity, Sera Is A Cunt, Triggering Moments (I.E): Hearing Infidelity, Making Light Of Other's Trauma, Mentions of Cigarette Burns, General Rudeness

A/N: This chapter is early because I’m hungover. Always a shoutout to @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia. Enjoy!

The smell of blooming flowers is something you never thought you'd become fond of. It's never been something that you've even considered. But you find yourself so often these days finding small delights in simplistic things.

Sitting in front of the large fountain that has been hidden behind clean cut hedges and tall rose bushes, you let the gentle breeze wash over you.

You can hear Baeksoo quietly speaking to the plants as she waters them. It's calming in fact, to hear her speak words of praise.

You've thought long and hard about this evening. Which is astounding since it's just dinner. But, you don't know simple things about Yoongi.

You think to ask Maya but you want to do this by yourself.

"I thought I'd find you here," the voice draws your attention and suddenly you're misty eyed.

Just the way she walks and the tilt of her gorgeous face is enough to make you weep.

"Leena!" you cry out.

Jumping up from the bench, your arms spread wide as you feel relief flood over you.

"Hey, Miss Thing!" she cheers, pulling you into her arms.

You begin to feel as if you could breathe again.

"You look so great! I missed you so much!" she whines loudly, squeezing you tightly to her slim body.

"What're you doing here?!" you ask, pulling away to look at her pretty face.

She grabs your wrist, tugging you over to the bench you were just sitting on.

"Taehyung needed to bring Yoongi some documents for a mall or something before we're off to France, so I made sure I was able to come and see you."

You watch as she demurely crosses her legs and you make a mental note of it. She went to many etiquette classes when she was younger and you’ve always admired how graceful she is. It’s the way she moves so effortlessly and with such confidence. You’ve always wished to be like her.

The floral fragrance seems to enrapture you once more as you sit together. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, your best friend makes it a point to continue to hold you.

“How is he treating you? I swear to God, if you tell me that you’re being treated like the help I’m going to fucking flip.” your best friend asks.

You sigh gently, looking up at the clear cerulean sky.

“He’s treating me normally, I guess. One minute he’s so cold with me and the next he’s just being so sweet. I don’t know what the fuck to feel. Last night, we went at it and he came to apologize to me.” you reply as the breeze blows through your hair.

“Excuse me? Min Yoongi apologized to you?” she sounds dumbfounded and all you can do is nod in agreement.

“Oh my God, he’s so fucking whipped! That’s amazing.” you snort at her excitement, rolling your eyes before looking back over to her.

“I think he’s just being civil. We’ll see, we’re having dinner tonight.” your confession hits her like a stack of bricks and she squeals loudly, gripping your hands tightly.

“I’m gonna drop dead on this expensive gravel beneath my feet. YOU and YOONGI are having dinner tonight?! Like, eating in the presence of one another civilly?!” her blue contacted eyes go wide and her mouth drops open while you nod.

“Yeah. I’m cooking dinner,” you say, confusion enrapturing your tone.

She guffaws loudly, her head lolling back as she gasps for breath. “You’re so insane! This is amazing! He totally fucking likes you!”

“Well… I don’t know about that but-” your voice is cut off by hers.

“Shush! Silence! I’ve said what I’ve said! And it’s the law!” she cries out, pressing her perfectly manicured finger to your lips.

“Sexy girl! Let’s go!” you hear Taehyung scream.

Leena turns her head to the voice before pouting. “You better call me with all the details of your date. I want to know how he looks at you, how he eats his food with you around, how he fucking sneezes. I want the whole laundry list of things that happen tonight!”

You giggle at her enthusiasm before nodding. “Yes ma’am. A laundry list of all the things Min Yoongi does to make me mad.”

She rolls her eyes before kissing your cheek happily.

“Love you, Miss Thing!”

“Love you, too!”

Standing tall, she fixes her long dress. She looks around the garden impressed before folding her arms.

“I’m really happy for you, by the way. I think things are really going to work out here.” she calls to you, starting to walk away.

“Bye Yoongi!” she yells up to the house and your eyes follow hers.

He stands on his large balcony, a cup of coffee in hand staring at you. He bows his head to her, a smirk present on his lips before looking back at you.

“Little dove, good morning.” you hear him say as he retreats back into his room.

How long was he standing there? How much had he heard?

Listening to Frederic drone on about food is something you don’t think you could ever get tired of. He makes the French cook stereotype feel so alive. You’ve been in the kitchen plenty of times, have gone through the cabinets many, many times throughout the nights when staff and the chef were sleeping. But, to hear him feeling the need to explain it all to you as you both take small steps around the gigantic kitchen is humorous and you let him do his thing.

“Now this, this is a sieve. You can strain things through it,” Frederic says, picking up the large strainer.

You hum playfully as you lean down on the island counter.

“I have made my own food before y’know,” you quip to him as he unbuttons his chef’s jacket.

He tuts his tongue as he brushes some hair back behind your ear. “Ah oui, bien sûr Madame. I know, I just want to make sure you know where everything is.”

You smile at his kindness, it must be difficult to relinquish your kitchen to others especially after being in charge for so long.

“I promise I won’t make anything dirty and I promise, cross my heart, that I will take good care of your kitchen,” you swear to him as he throws his chef’s jacket over his shoulder.

He presses both of his hands to either side of your face, wiggling them slightly with a smile.

“Merci, Madame. You are in every word parfaite. I cannot be happier to make you food in this home,” he whispers as you tilt your head with a giggle.

“Go have a good day off, have fun,” you insist as he drifts his hand over the marble countertop, as if he’s finding it hard to say goodbye.

“Oui, bien entendu. I’ll have a drink in your honor, Madame,” he says with a sigh.

You give him a wink as he exits the kitchen and you watch him slowly leave to the maid’s quarter. Your lips sputter as you look around the large, empty kitchen before sighing.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

He should be working. He opened up his computer, he grabbed all the necessary documents from both Taehyung and his office but he just can’t seem to focus.

Yoongi can smell the aroma of food coming from the kitchen and it makes him curious. What are you making? How do you even know what he likes? Do you even know how to cook?

He wants to know more about you, or try to learn more anyway.

Recalling just this morning, he can hear you so clearly -- “He’s treating me normally, I guess. One minute he’s so cold with me and the next he’s just being so sweet. I don’t know what the fuck to feel. Last night, we went at it and he came to apologize to me.”

You think he’s cold and you’re absolutely right. He always has been and it’s gotten worse these last couple of years.

He doesn’t know who he even is anymore. At least he doesn’t think he does.

Then you mentioned that he came to apologize. It must have meant a lot to you. It was weird for him to feel that aching in his chest, to feel like he fucked up. Even in the past when he’s done and said horrible things -- he never had such an ache.

Something about you just… sends him reeling.

Then he remembers what Leena said, “You better call me with all the details of your date.”

Was this a date? He didn’t even think of it in that way. It’s just two people eating… right?

Just a man and the… mother… of… his… child.

“I need whisky,” he mumbles to himself, standing up.

He hasn’t been on a date in God knows how long. He hasn’t spoken to a woman, truly spoken to one, in what feels like a millennia.

Picking up the empty bottle of whisky from the small bar caddy, he curses to himself.

He decides it’s in his best interest to go all the way to the kitchen to get a bottle. Even though his bedroom is just a floor down.

But, it certainly isn’t because you’re in the kitchen cooking. No. Not at all.

As he gets closer to the kitchen, he can smell different types of herbs and delicious meats cooking. He can smell raw peppers and onions and it makes his mouth water.

Yoongi watches you from afar for a minute, just standing on the last step of the stairwell. You’re humming, the song is sweet and calm. You have on a cute apron around your waist, with small smears of what seem to be a sauce of some kind on it.

He can feel his heart lightening at the simple sight of you. You look so… beautiful. So fucking domestic. And, he feels like he doesn’t even need the alcohol anymore because just watching you makes him drunk.

How bizarre.

“What’re we doing?” Maya whispers from next to the stairwell.

Yoongi practically jumps out of his skin at the sight of her, pressing his hand to his heart.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispers fiercely, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat.

He hears the older woman giggle and he rolls his eyes at her giddiness.

“I’m just getting whisky,” he mumbles aloud, still trying to keep quiet in case it would disturb you.

“Oh. I see. I can get it for you, Sir.” she replies and he grabs her wrist gently as she tries to walk away.

“No, no! I got it. It’s okay. I was just…” he can’t even complete his sentence.

What was he doing? Checking you out? He was just watching you, feeling so serene.

“You were being sweet, like I raised you. You were entranced by her.” Maya says.

He grimaces at her. “No! I was just… waiting to see if she burned down the kitchen or not.”

Maya giggles to herself before bowing her head. “Of course, Sir. I see that now.”

He rolls his eyes as she takes off to the maid’s quarter.

He watches you wave to Maya with a shy smile on your face.

“Goddammit,” he mutters, combing his fingers through his hair.

He takes small steps, trying his hardest not to disturb you as he walks by the long bar.

“Oh, hey Yoongi!”

Your voice is so sweet. Especially when you say his name.

“Smells good,” he calls to you, walking through the small hallway before appearing in the kitchen.

“Thanks! I hope you like it,” you reply happily as you stir something in the pot.

As he takes in your face, he snorts gently at a small stain by your cheek.

“I think you’re a messy cook,” he teases, walking towards you.

“Huh?” you ask confused.

Stepping in front of you, he taps his index finger to the underside of your chin.

“Look at me,” he instructs.

As you look up at him, he can feel himself falling into your eyes. You’re so doe-like and precious even when you don’t know it. It’s kind of miraculous.

Wiping his thumb over your cheek, he snorts gently. Your breath hitches in your throat as he strokes his thumb over you.

“What’re you making for dinner?” he asks, trying to distract himself from how soft your skin is.

“Well, I made a lot of things.” you reply, pulling your face away from him to look down at the pot.

He hums inquisitively, grabbing a glass off of a rack and pulling out the whisky.

“Do tell, little dove. You’re making me hungry,” he jeers, pouring himself a large portion of the alcohol.

“Well for the appetizer, I made brussel sprouts with parmesan and bacon and a small salad. For the soup, I made a soybean sprout soup. And, the main course is veal with lemon butter sauce and glazed carrots.” you tell him proudly.

He begins to smirk at how pleased you are with yourself.

“Sounds good, I’m excited,” he replies, lifting his glass.

You giggle gently, turning off the burner underneath the pot.

Leaning down on the marble island across from him, you rub your hands together.

“I hope you like it,” you whisper.

You sound shy now and it peeks his interest. You’re like a frail flower. It’s so difficult to get a read on you or put you in a category. But, maybe that’s how it should be. You shouldn’t just be one specific way, you should be well rounded. And he thinks you’ve got that.

“I’m sure I will. Although, didn’t I put in the contract that you shouldn’t be eating so much?”

Finally for once it doesn’t come out as gruff and angry, it was meant to be a joke. Luckily for him, it came out that way.

You find yourself smiling, almost having the urge to stick your tongue out at him playfully.

“I haven’t been able to cook in a long time, this feels nice. Eating a lot once in a while isn’t so bad,” you counter good-naturedly.

He raises his glass at your words. “Touche. Little dove, touche.”

You lean your head on your shoulder, your fingers skimming over each other as you look down at the marble beneath you. For once, the silence isn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It’s pleasant.

“Was it nice to see Leena this morning?” he knows the answer, but he wants to see you smile wider.

And so you do. Brimming from ear to ear, you nod.

“So nice! I’m so happy that I got to see her,” you admit, looking up at him.

“Well, she can come over whenever she wants. It’s in the contract,” he suggests.

“I didn’t know if I wanted her to come over yet, y’know. With Sera around and stuff…” your answer falls flat as Yoongi chuckles across from you.

“That’d be like putting two piranhas in a tank and seeing who wins,” he chuckles.

You snort gently, pointing at him. “Exactly.”

He watches you fix things up around the kitchen, cleaning as you go.

And finally he speaks after some time. “What can I do to help?”

Humming you shrug with a smirk. "I got it. Why don't you go relax for a while?" you suggest.

As you go to lift the pot, Yoongi whistles loudly as if to tell you to stop.

"I read that pregnant women shouldn't be lifting anything heavy. Don't even think about it. I got it," he insists, waving his hand for you to move.

"You read something?" your voice is wrapped with humor as you move over.

"Very funny, little dove. Go set up the table," he instructs with an ever present smirk on his face.

Yoongi leans back in his seat, his stomach was full of delicious food by now but he can't stop picking at his plate. A true testament to how great of a cook you are.

"Damn." he whispers, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

You smirk across the table, your arms folding with pride.

"Good?" you ask softly, grabbing your drink.

"Very good. I'm impressed," he says as he slings his arm over the top of his chair.

You giggle gently, your head lolling back to look at the clear night sky.

"Who taught you how to cook?" he asks, watching as you count the stars.

So here it is. Will he be as truthful as you? Will he talk to you?

"My parents. My dad always liked cooking more than my mother. She was sick a lot when I was young. Always in the hospital. So my dad got comfort from making her food and I used to take it to her," you answer, looking back down at him.

Yoongi nods gently, it's starting to click in his mind. "That's why you hate hospitals?"

"That's why I hate hospitals. There was a time when she was admitted for a bad stomach ache and she got worse in the hospital because the bedding and the nurses weren't clean." you reply breathlessly.

The father of your child cringes at the thought, taking a sip of his whisky.

"You?"

Yoongi takes a deep, slow breath. He stares at your face and the task at hand is daunting. If people didn't already know him, he didn't open up. But, he should open up to you.

Or he thinks so anyway. You're having his child, you should know about him. And maybe if he speaks his history then it will break the cycle. Then he won't turn into his parents, he won't have a fucked up kid like himself.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," you say quickly.

You can see him wrought with nervousness. Just the prospect of letting things out must terrify him.

"No, I should talk about them. If not with you then surely a therapist," he jokes out of worry.

But, then he looks at your face. He feels that sense of dizzying calm once more. Like everything is going to be okay.

He chugs the rest of his whisky, his mouth watering and grimacing.

"No, I don't know how to cook. I'm not even sure my parents know how to cook-" he lets out a breath, letting the warm fire of the alcohol in his belly keep him going, "-they never took care of me. I was born and they were relieved to have a boy so they didn't have to try again."

You hum sadly at his words, tucking your legs beneath you as he runs his hand over his face.

"Maya has always taken care of me. She's always loved and cared for me. She's my mother by all accounts, if I'm being honest. My father was a very big disciplinarian… if that's what you want to call it. Most people would say abusive," he says, pouring himself another glass of whisky.

"Kneeling on rice, getting hit with sharp objects, burning cigarettes out. Things like that," he waves off the notion with his hand, shivering while even speaking the words.

Your heart breaks for him, thinking of how painful that must have been when he was a child.

"I haven't seen my parents in… four years now, since I got married. I hate them." he spits at the ground beneath his feet.

You can see the emotional turmoil he's reliving. You can't imagine how difficult that is.

"I'm sorry," you whisper and he shakes his head fiercely.

Picking up his fork, he taps it gently to the fine china as he thinks.

"So I grew up hating authority because of them and the teachers at Sairmount. They always said I should be doing better because of my position and what I would grow into. I hated that. Even when I tried my best I received no praise, and if I made one mistake it was like the end of the world. So I ended up just kind of… becoming a shell."

You nod to his words, your index finger swirling around the rim of your glass.

"What else, little dove?" he asks softly.

As he tilts his head, you take in his handsome features. He's just a product of his environment. You wonder what he would be like if he could thrive.

"I heard that you go to BDSM clubs and stuff, is that because you feel the need to put people in pain like you were when you were younger?" you ask, trying to be considerate of his feelings.

He takes a sharp breath through his teeth almost as if you've burned him.

"Jesus. You might as well be my therapist," he mumbles, running his hand over his face.

But, he doesn't feel awkward talking to you. He likes this. He appreciates how you listen. How your eyes stay soft and you don't judge him.

"When I was younger -- I was probably sixteen when I developed a taste for it. I was getting angry and violent. I was breaking shit and I needed to funnel that into something. So I started going to a club and learned how to be a dom. It was about the comfort of being in charge. I would have a sub and tell them to jump. They would say how high. I thrived off of being in charge. Thrived off people doing my bidding sexually. It just felt right for me to tell someone what to do and have them want to do it for me. I was in charge, people listened to me, I didn't have to do things others wanted. People did what I wanted them to do. I've toned it down since then."

"You were pretty dominating with me," you offer softly.

He chuckles at how innocent you look, his index finger swiping slowly over his lower lip. "That's because you're so sweet. I wanted to wreck you."

With a gentle giggle, you put your elbow on the table before resting your head on your hand.

"You kind of did," you reply, putting your hand on your stomach.

His eyes follow your hand and he begins to smirk above his glass.

"Clearly," he whispers, his eyes slowly drifting up your body to your swollen tits.

He licks his lips slowly, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip gently.

He never understood the attraction to pregnant women like his friend Jimin. The younger man was obsessed with the notion of it and Yoongi couldn't possibly begin to grasp it. But now, with you sitting here before him, he might be beginning to understand.

Averting his eyes from you, he tries to keep his rampant thoughts at bay.

"What else do you want to know, little dove?" he asks, trying to distract himself.

Your cheeks puff out as you think, your fingers combing through your hair gently.

"Sera? What's with her. If you hate her so much why did you get married to her?" you whisper.

Well, that's something to kill the sexual mood he was starting to feel.

He spits on the ground at the simple name of her. He stares far off into the distance, his eyes lingering on a grove of trees Baeksoo has so kindly planted.

"Sera…" he mumbles, stretching out his legs.

You might as well know. You aren't going anywhere in his life.

"Jesus, I think about it everyday and it still makes me mad," he chuckles to himself, the sound bitter and full of resentment.

You watch his face contort in pain, just the simple memory making it hard to withstand.

Without a second thought you're moving your chair. The sound is loud as you move the heavy metal and he watches you with amused eyes. Finally, your seat is next to him and you huff out gently.

"What?" he asks gently as you plop back down.

You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers to bring him peace. His head lolls back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut at the simple move. It's a simple thing to hold hands but it feels powerful when it's you.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," you say to him.

His thumb drifts over the back of your hand, his eyes opening to the numerous stars that hang brightly in the sky.

"Everyone knows I hate her but no one truly knows why. Maya, Joon, Hoseok, they know. Hell, Hoseok dives deep into her bitter cunt at night and he knows." he shakes his head gently, his eyes flitting from star to star.

You begin to bite your lip nervously as he squeezes your hand tighter.

"I didn't always hate her. I loved her once. I loved the prospect of her anyway," he breathes out, his hand gripping tighter at yours, "I was engaged at fourteen. It was mandatory, the leech's parents were friends with my parents. Their company was going down the drain, they almost had to declare bankruptcy. So this was the easiest thing for both parties. It's very normal in the high profile life to be engaged to someone else for money. It didn't bother me at all that I was engaged, so were the people around me. I thought I was going to have a life like Namjoon."

He snorts at the simple thought and mindlessly he tugs your hand with his over your stomach.

Just the thought of his baby inside of you brings him peace.

With a gentle sigh, he continues. "She didn't go to school with us and I had only seen her a few times at balls and galas. She was annoying back then and she was always brisk with people. But I liked that, I guess. Because I was the same way. I had a childish crush on her for so long and it kept growing as we got older."

He stops talking only to down another glass of whiskey. He closes his eyes as you run your hand comfortingly over his. "When I moved into this house, I had it renovated to please her. I did anything and everything to make her happy. And I was so… excited to have someone that was mine. Someone to spend the rest of my life with. I didn't want our marriage to be like my parents. And, now it's worse."

You find how sad he is depressing. Frowning, you click your teeth softly.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper.

Shaking his head, Yoongi looks at you. He gives you a sad smile. It's heart wrenching to look at his handsome face so distraught.

Even if he can be an asshole sometimes, you can understand him better now. That's all you wanted. You just wanted to be able to connect the dots.

"It was the night of our wedding, that's when I became aware of how awful of a person Sera is." he says, staring off into the distance.

He couldn't understand why she wanted to get married on New Years. It's freezing cold but if it makes her happy then he should do it. It'll be his duty as a husband anyhow.

"Come!" Taehyung whines to him as he sits in the booth.

"I'm not having sex with a woman the day before I'm getting married. That'd be such a dickish thing to do," he counters as Taehyung wraps his arms around the stripper beside him.

"You've been celibate for a year or some shit. You abstaining for the Lord or for the sake of your new bride is not going to make you a born again virgin, okay?" the younger man asks with a laugh, running his hand over the stripper's pert backside.

Rolling his eyes, the Kisung CEO takes a sip from his drink.

"It's not about being a born again virgin, you moron. It's about fidelity. It's about trust. She and I agreed that we would just be for each other." Yoongi barks out gruffly.

Taehyung grimaces at the simple thought. "Fine. Well whatever pact you have with your blushing new bride is depressing me. I'm going to get my dick wet with… Luna. That's your name, right?" the hotel CEO asks the woman on his arm.

She giggles loudly, the sound frightening and way too forced. "Laura, silly!"

"Yeah. That. Bye Hyung. Try to cheer the fuck up or something." Tae calls, picking the stripper up with his strong arms before swinging her over his shoulder.

Yoongi snorts loudly, his eyes flitting from here to there in the large strip club. This wasn't for him anymore. He would be married now. To a woman all his.

He's been living in this fantasy. Waking up on weekend mornings next to his wife, eating breakfast together. Having a few kids. Being able to enjoy each other's company.

He loves the idea of that. He's gone through so much terrible pain in his lifetime. Maybe, fate is telling him he deserves a reward now.

Standing up, he finishes the rest of his drink. He tosses a few hundred bucks onto the table before heading out.

He knows it's not customary to see his bride the night before the wedding but, maybe he can just have a talk with her. He's dying to see her.

For once, Yoongi let someone else take the penthouse besides him. Sera should be fully comfortable before her big day.

They bought out the whole hotel. She wanted to be married in Italy on New Years. She wanted diamonds dripping from the fucking ceiling and she would have it. She would have it all.

The walk from the strip club to the hotel wasn't far. Yoongi can see the lights on in the penthouse and his heart begins to hammer in delight at the thought of seeing her.

She's so fucking beautiful. Albeit, she can be a little irritating at times but who isn't? She's almost godly in his eyes.

He's been waiting for this day since he was fourteen. He can remember when Namjoon got engaged. How fucking against it he was.

Joon always wanted to do things his way. He wanted to pick who he was with, he wanted to be happy on his own. He despised Yoona for years before their big day a year ago. Then he found out how similar they are. He fell in love with everything she's in love with.

Yoongi hopes it'll be the same.

The ride up the elevator to the penthouse is quiet. Gentle muzak plays that seems to lull him into a false sense of security.

Sera might be really big on traditions. She might have him sit in the living room for them just to talk but that's okay too. Whatever she wants.

The elevator opens silently and Yoongi fixes his blazer in the hallway mirror. He smiles to himself softly, looking like nothing can bring him down from this cloud.

Until he hears it. Until he hears the gentle groaning of a man in his sexual pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Sera. Do it again, you filthy slut." he hears and his world comes crashing down around him.

"Yeah, fuck. You like that? Your cock is so much bigger than Yoongi's. I want you to come play with me during the week while he's at work," she sounds breathless.

The CEO's eyes flutter shut and he grips onto the table before him to keep him steady.

"Yeah. I'd bet you'd fucking like that. I bet you love the idea of me fucking your little cunt while your husband is away at work. Let me cum in your pussy before the cuck gets home. You'll let him in this pussy with my cum inside of you," the voice is that of Sera's driver. The one man Yoongi never even gave any thought to.

His hand feels for the wall. His legs are shaking by now and he slowly slides down the gold wall, pressing his hand over his mouth.

"Cum on my cock, you fucking slut."

The sound of her orgasming will never leave his brain. He can hear how pleased she is.

Yoongi in his past has had sex with others too. But, they promised to be faithful to one another. He believed her.

He can feel his eyes welling up with tears as he squeezes them shut tighter.

He thought fate was giving him a helping hand. He was going to be happy! What has he done so wrong in his life for misery to consistently stay?!

Heavy breathing is heard throughout the silent penthouse.

"Why did you promise that stupid fuck you would be only for him?" Jungmo, the driver, asks breathlessly.

Sera giggles, a sound once so adorable it brought Yoongi to his knees.

"Because I want his fucking money. There's no prenup if he thinks I'm all for him. He genuinely thinks that I love him. He thinks I care about whatever the fuck has happened in his miserable past. Do you know that he told me that his dad used to burn cigarettes out on his skin? I was supposed to feel sorry for him." Jungmo and Sera laugh along with one another.

Yoongi's mouth opens at the sheer atrocity he's listening to. She's so fucking cruel. How did he never see this? How could he have this happen to him?

"You were supposed to feel sorry for that billionaire while you're only sitting barely comfortable at seven million!?"

"I know, right?! The fucking nerve! Like, he doesn't even understand that my life has been so much worse! I had to almost go fucking bankrupt! Who gives a fuck about your sad past? What about me?"

The CEO tugs at the blazer fabric situated above his heart. He clamps his hand tighter over his mouth to stifle the sob raring to break free from his throat.

"I can't wait to take all his fucking money and leave him with only his sad little memories."

Crawling over to the elevator, he pushes the button softly. Praying to God that it doesn't make any noise when it opens.

She's such a cruel bitch. So fucking vile.

He stands up on shaky legs as the door opens without a sound. Pushing the button for the floor below him, he waits until the door closes.

He waits until he is safe in his room.

He wails loudly, falling onto the carpeted flooring of the hotel room. He gasps for air, hands digging and pulling at his hair.

He cries for an hour, maybe more. Time seemingly stops in his distraught state.

When he calms himself down, he pulls out his phone. He crawls over to the bar caddy, wiping viciously at the tears he's spilled for the woman upstairs.

Yoongi doesn't even grab a glass, he just pulls the bottle of whisky down to the floor.

Sitting back against the long bar of the room, he dials the only number he can right now.

The sound of the phone ringing is so loud, it makes him want to weep all over again.

"Yoongi? It's two in the morning, what the fuck?" Namjoon calls blearily, through the phone.

"Joon… Please come to my room." his voice cracks and breaks as he picks up the bottle of whisky.

"Jesus, are you okay?" his best friend asks quickly.

"I need… I need a prenup. Please. Come." Yoongi begs, lifting the bottle to his lips.

"I'm coming! Hold on!" Joon calls to him before the line goes dead.

He gulps down the whisky at a ferocious speed, the liquor swirling and settling in his guts. The fire flaming and goading him on to no avail.

"YOU FUCKING WHORE!" he screams at the top of his lungs.

Yoongi launches the bottle across the room, burying his face into his knees as the sound of glass echoes all around him.

"Oh Yoongi. I'm so sorry," you whisper, clutching tighter to his hand.

Yoongi finds himself laughing at the memory now. He was so blind back then. So lovestruck.

"Nothing that isn't fixed now, little dove. Now we're both trapped in this marriage." his voice is devoid of emotion as he picks up the liquor bottle.

You can see how hurt he is even now. How reliving the memory is something akin to death to him.

You lean in towards his body. You press your lips to his cheek and he grabs you tighter at the feeling.

"Maybe that's why I liked you in the club? Because you seemed so completely opposite of the whore that lives in my house," he says finally as you pull away.

He turns his face to you, your lips just mere inches apart.

Yoongi lifts his hand, placing it gently on your cheek.

"You're a good girl, Y/N. You're so kind and sweet. Fucking understanding. You're going to be a great mother. I'm so sorry that you have to deal with me. Deal with an asshole every day. It isn't fair to you," he whispers, his thumb grazing over the apple of your cheek.

His hand is so warm against your skin, so soft. He's being so gentle.

"You're not an asshole. Not truly." you reply softly.

With a snort, he rolls his eyes. "See. You're almost too kind."

You giggle as his hand drifts down the column of your neck, his thumb rubbing over your jawline.

"I'm serious. You can be an asshole, for sure. But it's because of all the terrible things that have happened to you. If you were happy, really and truly happy. You might flourish. You might be able to find yourself again." you reply.

It comes out as a suggestion but it's really a wish. No one should ever be put through what he has had happen to him.

He tilts his head unsurely, pulling away from you.

"You're going to be a great dad. I won't let you be anything but a good dad to your child. No one is perfect, Yoongi. We can do this together." you say, earnestly.

Together.

The word makes his heart rate pick up speed.

You're pretty perfect in his eyes.

He can tell as you sit with one another, how heavy your eyelids are getting.

"You're tired," he observes.

"No, I'm okay!" you reply quickly to him.

He clicks his teeth, eyes narrowing at you. "We're going to be truthful with each other from here on in. Are you tired?"

With a hesitant hum, you nod. "A little. The baby makes me tired a lot these days."

"Okay." Yoongi whispers finitely.

Standing up, he moved your chair for you. With a simple grunt, he picks you up in his arms bridal style.

"I can walk!" you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"So can I." he jeers cutely.

Wading with sure steps through the house, you find how easy it is for him to look down at you. His eyes are soft when they look upon you now. Like telling you about his life has taken a huge weight off of his shoulders.

He kicks open your bedroom door with a smirk.

"There would have been a time I would have died to bring you up here to ravage you," he says, goodnaturedly.

"You still can." you sing softly as he lays you down on your bed.

"We'll see, hmm?" he whispers as he lifts the covers for you.

"Stay," you mumble, arranging the pillows to your liking.

"You want me to sleep with you?!" Yoongi feels frightened at the notion.

"Yeah… just stay. Don't leave me," you whisper as you close your eyes.

He hesitantly walks around to the other side of the bed. He fumbles with his pants and his shirt almost embarrassingly so.

Yoongi hasn't laid with anyone in years. He hasn't thought about doing so in ages.

"Did you leave?" your voice is just above a whisper.

He watches you for a second, how pretty and serene you look with your hair splayed over the pillow.

"No, little dove. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," he replies, laying down beside you.

Swallowing thickly, he gets comfortable under the same covers as you.

This is bizarre.

Tiredly, you pull his hand. His eyes go wide as you situate it over your stomach.

"It's not a big deal, Yoongi. Just sleep." You mumble as you turn onto your back.

He can feel the tiny bump developing under his hand.

It is a big deal.

To him.

He brushes some hair out of your face gently.

Maybe Sera wasn't his start to a new life. Maybe it's you.

Next Chapter ---->

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tales-unique · 4 years ago

Text

FAULTS OF THE HEART III

The tension doesn’t dissipate entirely over the coming days, but you find that it doesn’t get any worse either. It merely stagnates and that bothers you more than anything. You’ve both fallen into a routine wordlessly as though it was always there, something you didn’t realize until you’d been doing it over and over. “Not hungry?” Alucard's question breaks your train of thought, bringing you back to the real world. “What?” You ask, blinking down at your practically untouched plate of fresh fish and vegetables, “oh, no, it’s just,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Alucard frowns over at you from the other end of the table, setting down his knife and fork.

“What is it?” He asks, his voice gentle, which makes your tumultuous emotions fester even more. “I don’t know,” you shake your head, frustrated with yourself, “I just feel so, so stuck . My arm isn’t healing fast enough, I can’t do anything, I just feel so useless right now!” Alucard opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a vicious snarl. “And you aren’t helping!” That swiftly shuts him up and you regret it the instant the words have left your mouth. He sees it in your expression, the way your eyes widen and your lip twitches, and merely lets out a weary breath. He knows the routine of your moods as of late, only because he’s been subject to them already, but it’s still not easy to deal with. “I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, slumping in your chair. You were just so tired of everything . “I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you breathe, wincing at the tightness in your shoulder. It’s healing but when he cauterized the wound to stop the bleeding it made it difficult to move your arm without discomfort. “I know,” he replies, but his tired expression doesn’t quite match the softness in his voice, “it’s alright.” “No, no it’s not alright,” you rebuke, your hand tightening to a fist atop the table, “I do this every time and I always take it out on you.” There’s a sense of peace that briefly washes over you when you admit your shortcomings to Alucard before the numbness takes over. You push your chair back and stand, not wanting the moment to turn to pity like it always did. Alucard doesn’t stop you as you leave, no doubt going to sequester yourself in your room. He’s learnt that leaving you be is the best way to get you to calm down and view the situation objectively. It’s the only way that he can bring you around to the idea that he understands the way you feel.

It’s just after dusk when he finally hears you stir. He’s sitting in the old drawing room, reading one of the many books still salvageable from the library. Though your footfalls are light he can still hear them over the crackling of the fire in the fireplace and he places his book down upon the arm of the chair with a small smile. You’re not wearing shoes again, something he could never quite understand. You loved being barefoot. Especially outside, on rainy days and sunny days alike. He found you one early morning following a frog through the dew-covered grass and it was the first time he had truly seen you laugh since you came to the castle. Tiptoeing to the door, you gently knock on the old wood before peeking inside. You knew he was inside because of the firelight emanating from the ajar door. "Can I come in?" "Yes, of course." You nod, slipping inside. The room is warm and inviting and it helps ease some of the tension you have. It settles like lead in your stomach, but you try to push it away as you take a seat in the high-backed chair next to him. Alucard watches you as you get comfortable in your seat, pulling your legs up to your chest, leaning back. Yet you still look stiff and it betrays your nerves. He tries to give you a comforting smile but it's wasted since your eyes are firmly fixed upon the flames. "I'm sorry about earlier," you murmur, picking at a loose thread in the seat cushion. "It was understandable," he hums, "I know you meant no real harm." When you finally meet his gaze you see an understanding there that envelops you and you feel some of the tension lift. It's still there but you don't feel as though you're anchored by it anymore. It's a shame that it’s gone all too soon when Alucard quickly looks away from you. "It still wasn't fair on you though," you huff, stretching out in the chair and wiggling your toes. Alucard remains quiet. It's his turn to stare into the fire now, purposely avoiding your gaze. He tends to retreat within himself when you present him with human kindness, catching himself before he falls for it. The trauma he had endured throughout his life wasn't so easily erased, no matter how approachable you made yourself, and he would never allow himself to fall into that trap ever again if he could help it. "Are you okay?" The question throws him, forcing his gaze away from the flames and back to you. Your brow is creased with worry, your eyes glistening, and for a moment he truly believes that you are genuine. Defeated, he cannot take the weight of your concern upon him, nor accept that he finds you as captivating in the firelight as you had been in the moonlight. All he sees in you is another chance to be hurt again and he refuses to willingly be a victim. "I am," he replied smoothly, a practiced lie, tilting his head in curiosity, "what makes you think I'm not?" Your mouth opens but the words wilt and die on your tongue. There's no real answer you can give that doesn't sound stupid in your mind, and it shows. Alucard's expression softens as you struggle to answer, allowing you to compose yourself. "I don't know," hesitant, you resume picking at that loose thread again, "you look so tired, and so sad sometimes. I just want to help .” Even after considering what to say the words are still awkward and you inwardly cringe at how pathetic they sound out in the open. Under Alucard’s unreadable, silent stare you begin to fidget, wishing that the ground would open and you could fall into the abyss to spare yourself the embarrassment. You notice that he, too, seems to be considering his response, much to your dismay. You just want him to get it over with and tell you what a fool you are and move on. “You needn’t concern yourself with me,” he sighs, melancholy marring his angelic features, “really, I’m fine.” “Says the man with people on spikes outside his front door.” Alucard is stunned; it could have been a biting jab, or a sarcastic barb, each of which he would have expected and been prepared for, but instead the words are tender and the look upon your face even more so. He’s unprepared, there is no deceit he can muster in the face of such honest care, so he speaks the only words that seem appropriate. “They deserved it.” You nod, having expected as much. Even though you’re eager to know the tale that goes along with them you can’t bring yourself to ask. It’s too morbid, even if they were, as Alucard states, deserving. “I know it doesn’t really mean anything, but I’m sorry for whatever they did to you, Alucard,” you murmur softly. It doesn’t take away the pain that was inflicted, or the scars that are left behind, but you hope that it will show him that you are not like those people. And he knows it. You’re nothing like Sumi or Taka. You haven’t lied, you haven’t tried to hurt him, nor have you given him any indication that you will do so. Wherever you’ve lashed out you’re quick to apologize once you’ve simmered down and not once have you asked anything from him since begging to live. You are real, and that scares him more than anything. “Thank you,” he answers after a long moment of silence, his eyes distant, “truly, I...Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” You nod, taking this as your cue to leave him to his solitude. No doubt he has much to contemplate and sleep is beginning to tug at you like a petulant child. With a barely concealed yawn you bid him goodnight, leaving Alucard to curiously await what will happen next.

#Castlevania #Castlevania Imagine #Castlevania Imagines #Alucard #Alucard Imagine #Alucard Imagines #Adrian Tepes #Adrian Tepes Imagine #Adrian Tepes Imagines #Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes

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lilxberry · 4 years ago

Text

Fond Of This Dwarf - Thorin Oakenshield

Requested By: @heyitsgarnet

Hi! I really love your writing! Could I request a Thorin x elf reader who's with the company? He's kind of an doushe to her but then she saves his ass from orcs or something and he's like "oh shit I'm in love." thank yooou! <3

This probably isn’t exactly what you were looking for but I think it’s sweet and does just a good a job. I’m so sorry it took me forever to finish your request, I really wish I could’ve done something for you sooner. Thank you so much for being patient

Warnings: Probably a bad word somewhere lmao. I guess racism??? Angst. Fluff. Mentions of war and death. Pretty much it, I reckon.

Words: 2,331

Parings: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader (x elf reader) (x female reader)

_______________

How on Middle Earth had Gandalf think adding you to a company that consisted of multiple dwarves were a good decision you’ll never quite know. You’re completely certain that the grey wizard knew of the dwarves hatred for elves, of course he knew, definitely explains the precautions he had taken when introducing you to those who you were to travel to the lonely mountain with.

Luckily, that hatred slowly dispersed as time passed during your journey. All the dwarves had eventually taken a liking to you, apart from the ever grouchy, complacently brooding Thorin Oakensheild. Even Dwalin had begun to be a more civilised dwarf towards you, for Valars’ sake!

The first one to show some form of kindness to you were Balin. Obviously, he had reason to be all sorts of rude and crude towards you because of your race but you figured he has witnessed enough hostility within his lifetime so refused to show any when truly nessicary.

Ori had been next. It took some time considering he was under the watchful eyes and influential words of his older brothers. Fílí and Kílí followed after that and before you knew it, they all began to follow suit.

Needless to say, you and Bilbo had no issues from the get-go. In fact, you were and still are joined at the hip. And Gandalf, well, he’s Gandalf. You’re not even sure he can actually hate anything.

The journey had been long and treacherous, but you were getting closer and closer each day, even with each and every hindrance and snag you faced. Running everyday for survival is outright exhausting but utterly needed, which is what you were currently partaking in.

“I spy-“

Ori was swiftly cut off with a collective groan from the company whilst you and Bilbo shared an amused look, no doubt Gandalf had a similar expression across his face at the front of the group.

“Not again, lad, for the love of Mahal, please.” Dwalin grumbled as he pressed his fingers against his forehead as if trying to sooth a forming migraine. Ori visibly deflates and sighs quietly, looking like a kicked puppy.

“No, go on, Ori. I’ll play with you.” He perked up just as quickly as he had been denied moments earlier. He beamed up towards you as he straightened out his posture.

“I spy, with my little eye, something…beginning with…T!”

“Tree.” The company’s response was almost automatic, the answer as clear as daylight.

You and Bilbo chuckled before you both turned your attention to the dwarf beside you once again looking down and ashamed. “Don’t worry, Ori. I’m sure as we get closer to the lonely mountain, we’ll find more things to spy.” Bilbo’s encouragement was so sweet that you just had to jump in and help brighten the young dwarfs sour mood also.

“Definitely. Don’t get me started about the endless possibilities for ‘I spy’ inside Erebor.” Ori smiled his widest smile towards you and the hobbit as the others chuckled. All finding amusement in your merriment of a silly childs’ game. All except one.

“You humour me how you would think I would allow you to step foot inside my mountain.”

All humour, all happiness quickly faded until there were scowling faces amongst everyone. You furrowed your shaped eyebrows and slowed to a stop and burn holes into the back of Thorins’ head. You shook your head and began to walk once more with haste, shouldering the rude dwarf as you pass him and race ahead of the company.

You wouldn’t admit it, not verbally, not so outwardly, but his words and distain towards you hurt, very much so. Even though Thorin has shown nothing but his dislike towards you, you couldn’t help to admire his strong will, his caring side that he had shown his kin, his handsome appearance-

-‘NO! Y/N, stop it!’ You scolded yourself mentally as you shook your head to rid yourself of those thoughts just as quickly as they had entered your mind once more. He didn’t like you, not your race at least. He made that more than obvious for you and everyone around you.

You sighed inwardly before slowing your strides, allowing the company to catch up to where you had stormed off. You could hear the scolding the few bold enough to do so were giving Thorin, though you knew that the probability of him actually considering of what they were saying were nought.

Someone, who you presumed to be Gandalf, cleared their throat, noting the proximity between you and the group now they have caught up to your small steps. The silence consumed the company as they all sluggishly dragged their feet as they trudged along, awkwardness surrounding each and every dwarf, once again, all except that stubborn royal pain in the jacksie.

“Out of the way, elf.” He spat the name of your kind with such distain and disgust that your heart panged with an immense pain, your chest tightened, your intake of breath quick and sharp. You felt the burning of tears build up within your eyes as he passed you gruffly but refused to let them fall.

You will NOT seem weak in front of people- no, dwarves- like him. Bilbo caught up to walk beside you and places a gentle, comforting hand on to your forearm, smiling up at you sympathetically. The rest of the walk was silent, that was until you all heard the shrill cry of an orcs horn.

_______________

Your lungs begged for air, every inch of muscle within your body burned and longed for rest. Fatigue was catching up with all of you and fast.

“We cannot run any longer, we must stand our ground!” You couldn’t tell if Dwalin was pleading or trying to be demanding with Thorin and Gandalf, all you knew was that his tone was as brass and harsh as usual.

“We can take them, of do you really have such little faith towards your company, Thorin?!” You huffed, clearly just as agitated and enraged as the others.

Thorin halted immediately and swiftly turned on his heel to face you, a deep, raging fire of hatred filled his gaze. He groaned in aggravation and drew his sword, ensuring the others quickly followed suit. You deeply exhaled through your nose and you spun yourself around to face the oncoming threat as you unshouldered you bow and raising it higher.

You withdrew an arrow from your quiver, quickly lining your body perpendicular towards the enemy and drawing the arrow back towards your cheek, staring down the length of the arrow. You exhaled as you released your firm grip and so, first blood had been drawn.

_______________

It was nearing the end of the gruelling battle but in truth, it was difficult to tell, exhaustion taking over every single one of the company. It felt as though the enemy just kept coming, multiplying as you take a singular orc down.

Blood coated you and the others, mainly that of orcs and Wargs alike, dried and cracked. As you took down yet another enemy, you heaved out a shaky breath, exhaling heavily with a slight groan.

You looked towards the others, all seemingly fairing well, all grouped together, all except, you guessed it, Thorin. Two orcs atop their Wargs brought the dwarf down on to the hard, filthy ground, defenceless, weapon astray. He crawled backwards, even that looked like such a struggle for him though.

The Wargs snarled and growled as they closed in on the drained dwarf, the orcs straddled upon their fur coated backs grinning wickedly. As quick as a whippet, you powered through your own exhaustion and pain and sprinted towards the predators closing in on their prey.

You released a cry of anger and frustration as you withdrew your elven sword from its place on your back before bringing it down on to the beasts head, emitting a pained whimper before it fell harshly against the floor, body now limp and lifeless.

The orc that once sat atop the dead creature stood from where it landed next to its Wargs’ corpse with a seething anger and charged towards you. You swiftly cut him down and turned your focus to the final orc/Warg duo all the while Thorin looked on with wide eyes and bated breath, watching you with a new found admiration.

Almost as quickly as the last, you had taken down the enemy and collapsed down to your knees, exhaustion washing over you completely. Your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you inhaled and exhaled heavily in repeat.

“Are you…okay lass?” Balin approached you cautiously as the others watched on, concern and their own tiredness evident on their faces. All you could offer in response was a single nod of your head.

Thorin snapped out of his reverie and slowly came to a stand, but before he could proceed to close the gap between the two of you, you raised to your own feet and began to walk away from the group. “We should keep moving. No doubt another pack or two is a day behind them.”

“Yes, Miss Y/N makes a valid argument. Come on.” Gandalf had gruffly agreed with the statement made from over your shoulder. And with that, the company tiredly trudged further along, leaving behind the corpses of their slain foes and the final dwarves’ disdain towards you.

_______________

“We make camp here.” Thorin’s authoritative command travelled throughout the clearing within trees and into the ears of the company. Pained grunts, relieved sighs and heavy knapsacks thudding against the ground were Thorin’s confirmation that he had been heard.

He dragged his feet as he walked over to lazily slump against the bark of a sturdy tree, exhaling heavily through his nose and closing his eyes, basking in the knowledge that he lives to see a new day. His eyes barely reopen as he scans across each and every member of the company. Or at least, nearly every member.

He luckily caught a smidge of your form disappearing past the treeline and his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Surely you were tired? You had to be from all the walking and fighting you’ve done. Why would you head off away from the others?

With a huff of air, he pushed himself from his leaning position against the sturdy trunk and headed off towards the direction you disappeared in. Thorin kept himself quiet as he walked weaved passed trees, his strides small and light footed. He came to a slight clearing which was perfectly illuminated in the moons light, a heavenly glow across the small, vacant area.

And then he spotted you.

Sat precisely in the centre of it all, eyes softly closed, eyelashes resting on your cheek ever so delicately, the light breeze brushing your hair back from your face, a face that, even though is covered by the dried and cracked crimson smears, looked fair and filled with serenity, a calmness that was affect Thorin in many ways.

He had become so entranced that he hadn’t realised that he walked out into the opening further as he stared, stared at someone who he considered the enemy for far too long, at someone who he now admired, at someone who has kindled a newfound feeling deep within him.

“Are you going to keep standing around like some lemon or are you going to join me?” the sudden sound of your voice actually caused the dwarf to jump ever so slightly, taken off guard. You peeked an eye open, finding the situation amusing at a miniscule amount.

Thorin cleared his throat and wiped his hands down his front with a tinge of nervousness before making his way over and lowering himself beside you, arms rested atop his knees. A silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable passed before he spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

The simple two-word statement accompanied by his deep, gruff voice caused your eyes to widen slightly and snap your head towards the dwarf to your right. “W-what?”

“I’m sorry. For how I acted before. It wasn’t fair of me to judge you based purely off of who, or rather what, they are. I’m greatly disappointed with myself. Please forgive my ignorance.”

You were flabbergasted. THE Thorin Oakenshield, a prideful and stubborn dwarf, was apologising, hell, even begging, for your forgiveness. Thorin must’ve thought you were trying to imitate that of a fish out of water, your mouth opening and closing multiple times as you searched for the right words to proceed.

You recomposed yourself impossibly fast before flashing the sheepish, nerve wracked dwarf in royal blue and furs a kind, sweet, small smile. “It is okay, Master dwarf. It isn’t as if you had no base reason for your hatred towards my kind. Hopefully, like the rest of the company, we may put our bad blood behind us and move forward working together.”

Thorins’ sigh of relief was large and fairly loud, causing for a small giggle to pass your lips. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he flashed you the smallest, microscopic of smiles. “I’m glad. Oh, and thank you. For saving me.”

You gazed at him with such a soft and gentle expression that he was certain he could have melted at the sight. “Your most certainly welcome.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his hair covered cheek before ever so gently laying your head atop his broad shoulder. His whole body tensed at the actions before slowly unwinding, leaving him red in the face and bashfully playing with his fingers.

A peaceful, comforting silence quickly engulfed you two as you sat side by side, his arm now loosely wrapped around your waist, basking in the beautiful surrounding area. You weren’t sure how long you two had sat within each other’s embrace, but you weren’t one to rush a nice thing when it presented itself, so you continued in your contented bliss with a dwarf you had grown quite fond of. Fond of indeed.

_______________

AAYYYYOOOO IS THIS AN UPLOAD??!

That’s right ya dang bunch of cutie pies, I ain’t dead

My uploading is still extremely slow but I thought, since I’m close to being on top with my college work, I would finally finish this fic

It’s weird and probably makes no sense but it’s the best I can do with the amount of stress I’m enduring ‘cause of college so bare with me peeps

Anywho, I hope you enjoy reading this

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

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koo-zy · 4 years ago

Note

hello! do you have any fantasy/historical jungkook x reader fic recs ?

hello lovely!! i’m so sorry i missed this yesterday :( i was actually planning on reorganizing my tumblr because i feel like no fics are ever going to be able to be found my blog LOL so hopefully that’ll be done soon!!

as for the fantasy/historical fics.. i’m honestly not too sure what “fantasy” (do demons count..? soulmates..? werewolves????) typically includes so i’m just going to include a bunch of fics that hopefully fit in :”) here are the first ones that i thought of + summaries included in their main posts!

also.. i’m sure i missed a lot of amazing fics (mainly because i’m dumb as hell and don’t really know what can be included in “fantasy”) and would like to apologize in advance!!

@inktae ’s entire masterlist (they have a lot of fantasy fics!)

while this isn’t just jungkook recs, @ficswithluv had a fantasy category a few weeks ago!

@kpopfanfictrash ‘s jungkook masterlist

@fortunexkookie ‘s jungkook masterlist

one shots!

énouement - @littlemisskookie Mulan!AU

War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook.

midas - @gukyi

jeon jungkook was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the power to turn whatever he wants into pure gold. you were born with healing and invisibility powers but without a cent to your name. so when you’re plucked off of the streets for pickpocketing and assigned to be his minder as punishment, you realize you’re going to have to overcome a lot more than class differences if either of you are going to get what you want.

i will not lose! - @jimlingss Magic!AU

A single bet - use every means to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you.

a piece of the moonlight - @/jimlingss Mulan!AU

For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

dynasty - @/jimlingss Historical!AU

It’s no secret that the Emperor is infertile. But even so, a girl is selected every three months and brought to become his concubine in hopes of conceiving the next heir. This time, it’s you. And in order to prevent execution, Jeon Jungkook might just aid you in conception.

game of temptation ft. knj, myg, kth - @/jimlingss Succubus!AU

As a succubus, your beauty is unrivaled and shaped to tempt mortals. But it’s still hard to resist Taehyung, and there’s little you can do once you’ve been coerced to do his bidding for him. This time, you find yourself entering the affluent Kim Household as a housemaid. And these poor humans don’t know your intentions are far from being angelic.

knot today - @kinktae

(IDK IF WEREWOLVES COUNT BUT JERHFBDSKNZX THIS IS REALLY GOOD!!)

When your first heat approaches and you are left partnerless, who better to turn to than your alpha roommate that you’ve spent the better half of your life hiding your feelings for?

ego - @luxekook Harry Potter!AU

(..i also don’t know if HP counts LOL)

in which jeongguk is a cocky lil shit and the reader has to take him down a few pegs

stumbling - @hayjeon Prince!AU

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: hii! so the royal wedding of prince harry and meghan is today, and since my bias is JK and since i’m such a sucker for royal stuff, can i reuest a fic of bts all being royal of 7 different kingdom, and all of them being invited to jin’s wedding and the girl (oc) is also invited and kookie met her there, and eventually took an interest at her? the girl is also royalty from other kingdom. thanks!

werewolf!jungkook - @/hayjeon

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: Werewolf!jk? (im sorry ik it’s overused and unoriginal) where he and his mate have pups to take care of and they’re quite a mischievous bunch!

there for you - @cupofteaguk Hogwarts!AU

Jungkook is always known for doing things unapologetically, and it makes sense given how almost nothing gets under his skin—almost nothing, but maybe there’s an exception that takes a form of a muggleborn with the shy smile and quirky spells.

say you won’t let go - @/cupofteaguk Soulmates!AU

You’ve been eighteen years old for ten years when Jungkook first moves in

new romantics - @/cupofteaguk Hogwarts!AU

Jeon Jungkook will go down in history as one of the best Quidditch players that ever graced the Hogwarts scene. It seems like he always gets what he wants—his life is very predictable in that sense. What he cannot predict, however, is the newest weekend employee wiping down the tables at the Three Broomsticks.

a cinderella story - @suhdays Modern Cinderella!AU

you are forced to work multiple jobs as you live under your stepmothers roof. unable to move out and strive for complete independence, you do what you can in order save enough. turns out, as a college student that is harder than you thought. so, you distract yourself by joining online chat groups in which you meet a boy that goes to your school. that boy? none other than the rugby star himself, jeon jeongguk. it doesn’t prove to be an issue until he asks to meet you at an upcoming halloween party. he’s never noticed you before so why not hide yourself in order to live your dreams, if only for a moment?

explorer - @1kook Alien!AU

Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.

rottenfolk - @junqkook Faerie!AU

a look was as hazardous as chemicals, a kiss as perilous as poison; his eyes and lips felt akin to a cure, but he was purely venom.

the young wolf - @/junqkook Game of Thrones!AU

he was promised to another, meant for another to hold and to love and to kiss. but when his hand lingered on yours for a moment too long to be proper, and when his eyes held yours for a beat too long to be a passing glance, you allowed desire to creep into your veins, to take root inside your heart. perhaps before you might have been permitted to love him freely. perhaps he might have even been promised to you instead. but war was no place for the wants and desires of two people, no matter how much they yearned for it to be.

the lighthouse - @rubycoast S2L!AU

(im not too sure if this is considered fantasy but its one of my favs!)

you and jungkook had one thing in common: you were both lost souls stagnant in the search of some fulfillment. the one of many differences was that your story had been written on your sleeves, while jungkook’s was a story needed to be unriddled.

black magic - @hansolmates Magic Uni!AU

a witch with an ambition for learning, you stumble across a crushing spell in the middle of the forbidden section. of course you have to try it out! what happens when the crushing spell not only has jeon jungkook crushing on you, but you crushing on him?

the sea & the storm - @jamaisjoons Fantasy!AU

the sea is a powerful mistress. she is calm and beautiful. she is mysterious and alluring. she is a force to be reckoned with. above all, however, she is lonely. until she meets him. fantasy au.

the lionheart’s oath - @sugaxjpg Knight & Princess!AU

There was no happy ending, no dragon slayer to save the kingdom and get the princess — there was only him: Jungkook. A simple orphan that was lucky enough to be invited into the castle, a former homeless thief that had found shelter in the form of an elysian heir. Now, after twelve years by your side, he was about to lose you to the world you sought to explore.

ghosts just wanna have fun - @/sugaxjpg Psychic & MedSchool!AU

When Jungkook discovered that he could communicate with dead people, the last thing he expected was that they would be there to give him romantic advice.

wartime child - @ktheist Wizard!AU

raising a baby in wartime isn’t easy. but when your baby starts showing signs of magical abilities, you’re forced to ring up the only other person you know he takes after: jeon jungkook.

birth of an empress - @/ktheist Dragon Slayer!AU

partners for three years and friends for longer, jungkook thought you’d remain so until he saw you with the knight at the merchant’s trade.

alternatively, the friendly neighborhood wizard trying to propose to the infamous dragon slayer in the middle of slaying a dragon? now, that’s classic.

series/two shots!

fear in your eyes - @/gukyi Werewolf!AU

(again, idk if werewolves count but hifksdjcx !!!!)

there’s a werewolf in that forest behind your house, they told you, and he’ll eat you before you can even beg for mercy.

the worshiper series - @/jimlingss

Long ago, there were gods who resided in Heaven -- existing to watch over and protect the universe. Each of them had their own flaws, trials and tribulations; some which were more sparing than others, but these are their stories...

a promise of freedom - @/jimlingss Wartime!AU

War is cruel and its inhumanity has not spared you. Captured by the enemy, you were brought to the front lines to heal their wounded. But after one night of saving a particular man’s life, he swears to fulfill any wish of yours.

one year, my love - @/hayjeon Historical!AU

You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year.

demigod!au drabbles - @/hayjeon

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: i have a supernatural au prompt! how bout daughter of hades/loner!reader and son of zeus/bully! jungkook?

into the woods - @/junqkook Goblin!AU

getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.

lionheart - @/junqkook Magic!AU

as a sorcerer, it is of the utmost importance that you keep your magic a secret from everyone. when you become prince jungkook’s servant, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep your identity hidden; especially when you fall in love with him.

a royal exchange - @/hansolmates

she’s the man!au where the princess impersonates her brother yoongi in order to finish his degree on time while yoongi is thrusted into princely duties. jeongguk is in the mess purely through room arrangement

knight!jungkook x princess!reader - @/ktheist

a series with 27 parts!

that’s all i can think of off the top of my head right now :(( not gonna lie, half of these probably don’t even fit into either of those categories and i know there are so so so many amazing fantasy/historical fics out there!! i wish i knew them all but i hope this helped a little bit! if anyone has any fic they’d like to rec, feel free to send it to meee :)

and finallyyyyy i leave my following page open for viewing as well so you can check out all of the authors i follow!! please show all of these authors (and many more) some love! <3

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weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

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Amnesia (p2) | Draco x Reader

If you have not read part one, you can find it here!!

Prompt: After proper diagnosis and treatment, your Healer informs you that your amnesia has effected your most recent memories. These memories include your life as a upperclassman at Hogwarts, your knowledge and skills, and arguable the most important thing to you: your relationship with Draco. When Draco hears of your condition, he is overwhelmed and scared to say the least. You two are now strangers. What happens in Part Two of this multipart series?

Warnings: memory loss, nightmares, PTSD, anxiety, mentions of death

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: This part is a slow burn, but just trust me. Shit will hit the fan soon.

This story is not about romanticizing mental health issues. These are serious conditions and this story is not meant to romanticize or fantasize these topics. It’s used as a vessel to convey a different story. That being said, please take care of yourself and sending everyone lots of love. Thank you for coming back for part two :)

Flashbacks told in italics!

Draco watched you from the window that saw into your hospital room, his nerves and terror eating away inside of him. How was he supposed to keep calm when the love of his life almost died days ago and now does not remember a single detail of their relationship? He ran his hands through his matted platinum blonde hair before covering his face and letting out a sigh that was full of mixed emotions. He was going to fall apart in seconds if it were for your Healer passing by, so he could ask him questions about your recovery.

“So her memory is gone?” he frantically asks, pleading that the answer is no. That would just mean so much time and love and energy that you both had put into this relationship was being washed down the drain.

The Healer places a firm, yet reassuring hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Not gone,” he speaks as Draco lets out a breath he was holding. “Temporarily lost you can say. Her memories can come back to her in random spurts or all at once. The brain is very complicated and everyone reacts differently. It could take anywhere from two days to two weeks for her to remember. There are rare cases, but it is possible, that it could be a few months for her to recover,” the Healer tells Draco as Draco swallows hard.

If it was going to take you months to remember your relationship with Draco, the boy would go mad. He needed you to remember who he was and what your relationship was like so you could both move on and live the life you had planned when you were students at Hogwarts weeks before. Draco dreamt of what it would be like when you two finally got away from the chaos. He pictured you two settling down somewhere remote, in a cottage somewhere in the countryside, maybe out of England. He pictured you having a lot of land, somewhere you could both enjoy nature and its scenic views. He imagined you with your beaming smile in one of your favorite sundresses, laying in the grass, reading a book whilst you laid your head in his lap. He would stroke your hair and watching you crinkle your nose as you laughed at something he said, him relishing in the regality of your beauty. He felt unworthy to look at something so rare and so beautifully genuine.

Draco snaps back into reality from his daydream and speaks, “Are you sure there isn’t a charm or spell of some sort that you could use to jog her memory? Do muggles have something that you could possibly use?” Draco was desperate for an answer, a sign, a solution, something.

The Healer just smiles lightly and shakes his head. “If there was, my boy, we would have used it,” he tells him. “I’m sorry you two are going through this. I can imagine it is hard for you, but just imagine how difficult it is for her. The best thing you can do for her right now is be there for her. When she remembers, I have no doubt that your relationship will be stronger than ever.”

-------

And so Draco was there for you. Even though visitor’s hours were over, Draco stayed in the waiting room in case anything happened. Not even your parents did this. Your parents went home and told you they would be back in the morning, confident that you were in good hands with the Healers. Draco could never be too sure. You could remember him overnight and desperately need him. You could remember something about Hogwarts and need answers, to which he would be right at your side. So in the waiting room he stayed, waiting in case you needed anything.

The ex-Slytherin prince was exhausted to say the least. He hadn’t slept since the battle, too afraid to close his eyes and see what his mind conjured. He feared he would see the eyes of his father, burning into him full of anger and disgust; his only child, his only son, betraying the family to run off with some girl. Draco feared he would see the eyes of the Dark Lord although he was dead, he feared he would find his way into Draco’s mind and into his dreams. Draco didn’t even want to think about if he saw his mother in his dreams. How he abandoned her, leaving her alone to her own devices. Worst of all, Draco knew that in his nightmares he would see you, getting hurt, pulled away from him as he clawed at his father to let him go. Draco knew he would see your limp body, bloody and frail as they carried you away to a medic. He couldn’t face his dreams; they were far too scarier than his reality.

Exhaustion pulsated throughout your body before your heavy eyelids fell, you immediately falling asleep with the help of the pain potion given to you. Today was overwhelming for you; too much has happened for your brain to process adequately. You were relieved to see your parents and Ron and Hermione, but now your diagnosis and this whole Draco situation just made things worse than you had expected. How could you just forget a whole relationship with someone that had lasted almost two years? It just didn’t seem or feel real.

You were peacefully asleep, but that’s when your dreams started for the night. Although your body was at peace, your mind raced. In your dreams, you saw flashes of fire, the screams of people echoing in the halls. Stones and rubble were all around you, bodies, dead and alive, all around. Panic entered your veins as you felt your heart sink. You’re running as fast as your legs can allow you. The taste of iron is in your mouth as you scream, your lungs burning and hot tears running down your face. You’re screaming for someone, but the words don’t come out. It’s just a scream. Chaos is growing around you as see people who you once knew die before you in the matter of seconds. Somehow you cannot control yourself in your dream as you try to run over to your friends in need, but your legs are planted. You have become stone. You see Ron from across the hall and you want to run to him, knowing that he’ll keep you safe. He’ll protect you from whatever was happening.

But before you can run to Ron, your body pulls you in the opposite direction. You want to call out for Ron, but his name doesn’t come out. Instead, your screaming something else, but you can’t make out what. Before you can even register where you are going, you look above you and see a large boulder, making its way down to crash down on you.

And that’s when you scream. The sound is rippling through your body as you sit up straight in your bed, eyes darting open. You stop screaming when you realize it was all a dream, a nightmare rather. Why did it all feel real? The pain in your head is creeping back up as your brain throbs as you catch your breath. Your heart is beating through your chest as sweat slowly drips down your temples. Hot and cold flashes ripple through your body as you clinch onto the white hospital sheets for dear life. Frantically, you look around the room to see if anyone was around you to come to your rescue. Were your parents still here? Ron? Anyone?

In that instant, the door flings open and there was the boy you were supposed to be in love with, his blonde hair pushed in front of his face, a panicked look in his eyes.

When Draco heard the scream, he knew it was you in an instant. He could recognize your voice easily, whether it was in joy or in pain. Draco knew you better than he knew himself. His heart sunk to his stomach at your cry and he leaped to his feet. The worst thoughts came to his mind, thinking that something awful had happened to you. Did someone come into your room and try to attack you? Was he not dead? Was it his father?

Before he could answer any of these questions, he had practically knocked the door down just to see you sitting up straight in bed, your face covered in panic, horror, and sadness. The sight was gut wrenching. Draco wanted to run to your side, pepper your face in kisses, stroke your hair with his fingers, and tell you that he was right beside you and going nowhere; he would be there to protect you. But instead of doing so, in fear of frightening you more in your vulnerable moment, he just makes his presence known.

“Are you alright?” he asks, gently and slowly, still half standing in the doorway, half in the room in case you asked him to leave.

You take a look at the boy in front of you and wondered why he was still here in the first place. It was the middle of the night; not even your parents were here. Why did a boy you barely knew decide to stay here overnight? You don’t entertain the thought any further. “Bad dream,” you simply tell him, rubbing your eyes.

Draco understood, there was no need to ask you any further questions. He knew that you needed time and space. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm you further.

Out of curiosity, you ask him, “What are you still doing here? It’s late.”

Draco sighs, “Uh, I just wanted to make sure that you were alright. That if you needed anything someone would be here for you. Besides, I don’t have anywhere to go...” he trails off the last sentence sadly. He ran away from his mother, there was no home for Draco right now. He was alone. And without you? He was more alone than ever before.

You both look at each other for a few moments, breathing the moment in through your nose and out of your mouths. You took the time to really take a good look at Draco. He looked exhausted; heavy bags under his eyes that pulled all the way down to the tops of his cheekbones. His hair flopped lazily in front of his face. As sad as he looked, there was something almost angelic about him in this moment. The medic lights that flickered over his head dully almost made a halo above his head as he stared upon you with the most loving, sad expression you have ever seen. You could see how a previous version of yourself fell in love. He was undeniably handsome and there was something that was absolutely magnetic about him. You wanted to be around him for some reason.

Draco interrupts your thoughts, “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

He tries to slither out of the door before you stop him, not even register what you are saying until the words fall out of your mouth.

“Stay with me,” you call to him, rather than asking him like you would have preferred.

He stops dead in his tracks and turns to you, a confused expression on his face. Did you remember him? Was this your way of telling him?

You inhale, “I just don’t want to be alone.” It was true, you didn’t want to be alone again with you and your nightmares in fear it would attack again when you closed your eyes. “My dreams are scary,” you confess. “They seem real.”

In that moment Draco knew that the dreams you were having weren’t really dreams; they were flashbacks. He had them too when he closed his eyes. Draco knew exactly what you saw and there was no need to explain. He was just happy that you asked him to stay with you. “Of course,” he gives you a small smile, preventing a larger one from appearing on his tired face.

Draco slowly closes the door behind him before making his way to the chair near your bedside. He sits in the chair slowly and offers you a small smile. You return one to him with a small sigh. You wanted to go to sleep, but also were afraid of what you would see again. Would you dream of the same thing again? Or something worse? Would this happen all the time?

You watch the ceiling for a few moments before speaking to Draco, “I’m afraid of closing my eyes.” You turn to him to watch his reaction and he gives you a sympathetic look.

“I am, too,” he confesses. “I see old memories that replay in my head. Horrible things. Things I did, things I bore witness to, things I tried to stop...” he looks at you sadly. It was like you both understood where the other came from. There was an unspeakable understanding that just reassured the other that they were not alone. Although you don’t remember much of Malfoy besides the limited encounters with him, you can’t help but feel bad for him. He had obviously been fighting something and you wished that it would leave him alone. “Did you want to talk about what you saw?” he asked you. You shook your head and he gave you a smile. “That’s alright. You should try and fall asleep at least. You are in recovery from a nasty injury, let’s not forget that,” he teases as you smile. He loved your smile.

You lay back a little further in your bed relaxing. “Malfoy?” you ask as Draco’s ears perk up to his name being dropped from your lips. “Were we in love?” you ask, surprising him and yourself. But if you were going to remember the boy, you had to know if you loved him.

Draco thought to himself, Were we in love? As much as I breathe. But he doesn’t say that. “We were,” he smiles lightly at the memory when you would look at him with love glistening in your eyes, brushing his hair with your fingers as he would pull you in close by your hips, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. The boy loved you with every fiber in his being. “Madly,” he adds with a laugh.

As he says that, your curiosity peaks. You two must have had a beautiful relationship if he claimed you were madly in love. That was not a light statement. Without further consideration, you ask him, “Can you tell me the story? Of how we fell in love?” Draco’s eyes widen when he looks at you. “It’ll help jog my memory...I also just want to know,” you tease, making him laugh. His laugh made goosebumps appear on your forearms.

Where to start, Draco thinks. He could tell you about the story of the moment he knew that he wanted to make you his, your first date, when he asked you to be his girlfriend, the moment he told you that he loved you for the first time. There were so many good memories that he had of the two of you, it was hard to choose just one. “How about this,” he proposes, “I’ll start wherever you don’t remember. With each day, I’ll tell you a new story.”

His proposition made you smile. It seemed promising. “How do I know I’ll see you every day for a new story?” you ask, raising your brows.

Your expression made Draco smile. That teasing little smile that played on your lips was one he was so fond of. “I’ll make sure of it. That’s a promise,” he tells you. “Pinky promise.” He sticks out his left pinky finger as you loop yours with his, squeezing it. Instinctively, you kiss your thumb and Draco does the same. Your eyes widen, shocked that he did the same thing as you. You would kiss your thumb after a pinky promise ever since you were a child with your mum. As if he read your thoughts, Draco said, “I remember a lot of things, (Y/N). We also used to do that a lot.”

His words bring a smile to your face as you let go and giggle at the boy in the chair. “Alright, let me think,” you state. You scan your memory for what you remember of Draco. You remember meeting him that first night you arrived to Hogwarts when he made fun of you of being friends with Ron, you remember him teasing you in your charms class because you came to class with bedhead, running late, you remember sitting next to him at the Triwizard Tournament and stomping on his foot when he said he wished the dragon got Harry, you remember when Umbridge busted you and your friends for learning defensive magic and Draco being the first person you saw when you exited the room of requirement. “The last thing I remember was when Umbridge busted Harry and all of us for learning defensive magic behind her back. You were there and you made a comment at me. I remember being mad about it and you stood a smirked at me,” you push his arm.

Draco laughs, “Sounds about right.” You roll your eyes, turning your body gently to face Draco before he began the story. Draco had to stop himself from getting distracted at the way you looked at him, excitement in your eyes as he started his story. Your wispy pieces of hair floated over your head like a fuzzy halo, his heart fluttered at the sight. Merlin, I love you, he thought to himself. “Alright, let’s see,” he starts.

After being busted by Umbridge, you were under high surveillance. Not much to do for fun around Hogwarts anymore. No more gatherings after a certain time, no common room study sessions, the library closed after a particular hour, and not to mention boys and girls had to be separated by 8 feet. How was anyone supposed to have fun outside of academia anymore? Even Hermione belly ached about how bored she was.

You should have expected your secret meetings to have been busted. When you heard that Umbridge had rodeoed a select few students to be on a watch patrol, you knew that their leader, Draco Malfoy, would go to the ends of the Earth if it meant busting Harry Potter. You wondered if the boy really found joy in being a dickhead to people. Although the conversations you had with Draco were limited, you could tell that some of it was a show that he put on for his other Slytherin friends. It’s like they expected him to be an arse before they even met him. Regardless, the point was that Draco was always blunt and rude around you and his company was not your preferred company.

In the library, there you were, sat at a small table during your off period, scribbling some answers down to some last minute Potions homework that you knew if you didn’t get done, Snape would have your head on a silver plate. As you scribble down your answers in a frantic fury, you don’t even notice Malfoy enter the library, his sightline going straight to you. He smiled when he saw you sitting at the table, immersed in your work, hands pulling at your own hair gently. You were a sight for sore eyes. Draco always took notice of you at Hogwarts, he just never made a move because you never left the damned Gryffindor common room.

You didn’t even notice Draco in front of you until he hovered above you, startling you. “Merlin, Malfoy,” you jump. “What do you want? And stay eight feet away, you git. I don’t need to get into more trouble with Umbridge. You have already done enough damage,” you sneer at him.

Draco thought it was adorable when you were cross. “I came to ask you out,” he simply states. He doesn’t explain himself further. He just sits beside you at the table in the library, a smug grin on his face like you said yes to his proposition.

“What makes you think that I would want to go out with someone like you,” venom drips from your cherry flavored lips as Draco smirks. Your words did nothing to him. Oh, how that would change very quickly. “You’ve been nothing but cruel to me and my friends and now, all of a sudden you want to ask me on a date? You’re out of your bloody mind.” You continue to finish your Potions homework before Draco plucks the textbook from underneath you.

Before you can protest to his actions, he speaks, “Someone like me? And what would that be? Handsome, charming, intelligent, and funny? Sounds like a real bore,” he jokes. Merlin, he had a big head. “Not to mention, this hasn’t come all of a sudden. I’ve had my eyes on you for a while, (Y/L/N). I just haven’t mustered up the courage to ask you out properly. So here I am,” he leans on his elbow on the table, a shit eating grin on his face that you would love to smack off. “I need an answer, darling. Or else Professor Snape’s homework will just have to wait...”

You roll your eyes, “The answer you’re looking for is not the one you desire. Besides, even if I said yes, what would we even do? It’s not like we have any freedom here. We’re under constant watch.”

Draco laughs at your naiveté. “I thought you were brighter than this, (Y/L/N). I have my tricks. You can get away with a lot when you’re a Malfoy,” he pushes a strand of hair out of your face as he said this, you slapping it away as he does so. “Play nice,” he teases. “Your homework is on the line.”

Anger bubbled in your stomach, but for some reason his argument seemed to be compelling. What did he have planned? “What exactly are you thinking of doing, Malfoy?” you lean in, teasing him further as he smiles, thinking he’s won. Instead, you just pluck your textbook back from his hands, smiling as you do so. You beat him at his own game. This just made the boy more enthralled with you.

“Ah, that’s for me to know and you to find out, darling,” he speaks. “So, I take it you’re interested?” he asks, wiggling his brows.

You really hated to admit that you were interested in his offer, curiosity getting the best of you, as it usually did. You huff, brush your hair to one side. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” you admit, a smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. This was so unlike you.

Draco let a chuckle escape from his lips. “Brilliant. 7pm. Stay in the Gryffindor common room. I’ll come to you. I’ll see you then, kitten,” he purrs, leaving just as quickly as he came.

As Draco wraps up the story, you stare in disbelief. “There was no way I fell for that line,” you tell him, sitting up from your position in your hospital bed. “I really said yes to that cheese ball line?”

“How could you not?” he retorts. “I’m suave,” he jokes, making you laugh as you threw your head back. The sight of you laughing was enough to melt every single one of Draco’s fears. The way your nose crinkled as you laugh, your eyes squeezed shut, melodious laughter falling from your parted lips. “You’re beautiful when you laugh,” he tells you, unable to hold back his thoughts. That was Draco’s weakness. He could never lie to you. He always told you what he was thinking. It was his best quality and yet his downfall.

His compliment makes you blush and look away from him. You weren’t uncomfortable from the comment, but you were just taken aback. Draco was someone who you barely remembered, yet you had such visceral reactions when you were with him. He brought you confusion and comfort that was oddly satisfying. You decide to change the subject. “So tell me about our first date. What did you end up doing that was so spectacular that make me stay?” you ask through a large yawn.

Draco smiles as you cover your mouth, you were obviously exhausted. “I said one story a day, you sneak,” he smiles at you. “Besides, I don’t think you would be awake for the most of it. You look exhausted. I think you should get some rest,” he rises from the chair. He was right. You were even more exhausted than you were before. You pull the covers back over your body, cuddling into the thin sheets. Draco watches as you get settled in your bed, gently smiling at how you pulled the sheet all the way up to your chin like you always did before bed. He remembers how you would always sneak into his bed at Hogwarts; you always preferred his silk sheets to your cotton ones. “Sweet dreams, (Y/N).”

The platinum blonde boy walks to the door before a thought intrudes your mind. What was the harm in speaking it? “Draco?” you call his name cautiously. He turns around to face you, eyebrows raised. You slowly pull the sheets open. “Do you wanna sleep next to me?” you ask slowly, treading lightly. You gave him the offer mostly because you felt bad about him having to sleep in a hospital waiting room until morning. Those chairs were wildly uncomfortable and no one should be forced to sleep there by themselves. But there was part of you that wanted Draco with you. There was an aura about him that reminded you of home. The way he could make you smile with just a dumb sentence was comforting. He felt familiar; like you could remember some pieces of him. Maybe if he stayed with you tonight, all the memories would come back. Maybe his touch would awaken something in you.

At the offer, Draco wanted to scream yes and climb into bed with you, snuggled next to your side, breathing in your all too familiar scent. But he didn’t want to overwhelm you. He had to tread lightly, make sure that you were comfortable. “Are you sure?” he asks, genuinely wanting to know if that was alright. “I can just stay in the waiting room, it really is no problem.”

You shake your head. “I’m positive...I want you to stay with me,” you tell him. “I could be rushing it or I could be crazy, but I think that maybe you staying with me might be helpful...for my memory.”

How could Draco argue with that logic? He smiled and closed the door, trying to hide his excitement. He took off his patent leather shoes and peeling off his blazer, getting himself comfortable before climbing next to you in bed. The hospital bed was arguable just as uncomfortable as the waiting room chairs in Draco’s opinion, but you in bed with him made it all better. Draco slid one arm carefully around your shoulder as to not disturb any painful areas. Although the gesture should have been romantic or comforting, it just felt awkward.

You both just laid there for a moment, awkwardly laying before you give in to his touch, resting your head on his chest. Within an instant, the two of you let out a breath that you were holding in, melting into each other’s touch. This position of you resting on his chest, hearing his heartbeat made something inside you click. It did feel familiar. Something about it was familiar.

The two of you don’t speak any words to each other. You both lay there, waiting for the other to say something. But no one says anything. What is there to be said? You allow yourself to slowly fall asleep to the slow drum of Draco’s heartbeat in your ear through his chest as Draco follows only after you are sound asleep. He knew that he could sleep once you were.

-----

As you drift back off into sleep, another dream kicks back in. This one not nearly as horrifying as the last. In fact, it was quite endearing. You aren’t at Hogwarts. You’re somewhere else. Someone’s home. It’s not yours, that’s for sure. The house was smaller, but had a large winding staircase. It isn’t until you hear multiple voices in your head that you instantly recognize where you are. It was undeniably the Burrow. Weasley’s. A smile forms on your face when you recognize your surroundings.

In this dream of a memory, it’s Christmas time. Molly Weasley in the kitchen, cooking, something delicious smelling of sage and rosemary. Fred and George are in the backyard, building what looks like a fort of some kind, their efforts failing miserably when Ginny runs into the fort, causing it to fall down. A giggle escapes your lips.

You walk further around the house and recognize it more and more with every step. The Weasley home felt like a second home to you. So much so that Molly knew how to cook your eggs and knew the difference between yours and Ginny’s uniforms and Arthur had put a coat hanger in the side hall for you when you were over. You were here almost as often as your own childhood home. Your parents travelled a lot for work and you spent Christmas at Burrow maybe two or three times. This year was undeniably when you were in year four with Ron. You know it to be so because of Ron’s horrid haircut that you teased him about that whole year.

As if one cue, Ron appears and pulls you to the other room and suddenly you are on the couch, a mug of hot chocolate in your hands. Ron is telling you about a prank that George had planted in Percy’s room for when he came home. You have the feeling of undeniable joy in your chest and your cheeks hurt from smiling. Have you ever had this feeling before? The two of you were laughing at the other and expressing your joy and excitement for the holiday, focusing on the company of the other. You loved spending Christmas with the Weasleys because you knew that you would have more time to bond with Ron. Ron was your first friend at Hogwarts and he was the one who introduced you to Hermione and Harry. Ron was the one to push you to go after what you wanted. Ron was your best friend and other half. Undeniably.

In this dream, Ron looks at you in your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face and says, “I am so glad you’re here for Christmas. It makes things so much better.” He pulls you into a tight hug and kisses your forehead. “I love you.”

Before you can process the words, you speak out, “I love you more, Weasley.”

Your eyes shoot open and you slowly sit up. You were all kinds of confused. Ron Weasley? He was your best friend, sure, but the feeling you got during the dream was not one that a best friend should have. Your face was flushed, cheeks a bright shade of red. Were you blushing? Your heart beat was racing and your mouth was dry. The image of Ron smiling at you, his arm around your shoulder sticks out in your mind. Him saying I love you plays on repeat like a broken record. What was happening? This went against everything you knew and what people told you you were supposed to feel? Ron wasn’t your boyfriend; Draco was.

Draco.

You look next to you to see Draco still peacefully asleep, lips parting that allowed light snores to escape. His arm was still draped around your figure which you once found comforting, but now you found alarming. Careful not to wake him up, you peel his arm from around you and onto his lap. His touch now was now foreign. How did this all take a 360 within a few hours?

Casting the thoughts out of your brain, you turn over to the other side of the small bed, back to Draco, trying to fall back asleep, hoping that Draco didn’t notice the change of position. You let your heavy eyelids bring you to sleep, but unbeknownst to you, Draco does notice that you are no longer peacefully asleep on his chest. But he doesn’t say anything. Disappointed, he just takes note of it and closes his eyes, but he can’t fall asleep.

-------

The morning light streams in just as quickly as it left and gently wakes you up. The light hurts your head and makes you wince in pain, softly clutching your head. You sit up slowly and rub your eyes with the heel of your free hand, trying to rid the sleep from your eyes. As you let your eyes focus again, you see Draco is sitting in the chair beside your bed like he was like night, trying his shoes. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he smiles at you. You let out a groggy morning. “The Healer left you another pain potion for this morning. He said to take it as soon as you wake up and then you are good to be discharged and go home,” Draco reports.

The thought of going home made you excited, but nervous. Home was always nice and being your parents at a time like this was definitely something you needed. However, your childhood home didn’t feel like much of a home after your time at Hogwarts, especially since your parents were always traveling and were rarely home even on holidays. If anything, home meant going back to Hogwarts or alternatively going back to the Burrow with the Weasleys...

Shaking your head, you return yourself to the current conversation. “Sounds great,” you smile and take the pain potion from off the nightstand, drinking from the small vile, contorting your face in disgust after, the fowl taste lingering on your tongue. Draco laughs as you do so. “I hate the taste,” you blush, wiping your mouth. “Are my parents here to pick me up?” you ask Draco.

“I’m not sure,” he says. “I can check with the Healer and see if your parents called or not. If not, I can always take you home. I have no problem seeing that you get back safely,” he offers with a gentle smile as you nod. “Great,” he breathes out. “Let me check for you.”

Draco moves to the door and opens it up only to reveal Ron Weasley standing there, fresh eyed and with a small smile on his face that fades when his eyes land on Draco’s. “Weasley,” Draco greets. “I was just going to grab the Healer. (Y/N)’s been discharged.”

Ron shakes his head, “I know. I’m here to pick her up.” Ron glances to you and smiles before sending you a wink. Your heart stops in your chest and your eyes widen. Something that was a friendly gesture between you and Ron now has new meaning after last night’s dream/memory. What was going on?

Interrupting your thoughts, Draco looks to Ron and says, “You’re picking up, (Y/N)? Where are her parents?”

“Is there a problem with me picking (Y/N) up? I’m her best mate after all. Plus, her parents asked me if I could whilst they dealt with preparing her room and treatments for her arrival home,” Ron pushes past Draco and straight to you. “Morning, darling. I have fresh clothes for you and your mum is making breakfast for you back at your house. Ready?”

You look back and forth between Ron and Draco and the tension between the two is palpable. You thought that Draco and Harry had problems? This was another level. “Um, yeah, I guess so,” you reply to Ron while looking at Draco who shakes his head, understanding completely. Your parents had sent Ron for you. You didn’t need Draco. Draco just gives you a small smile before walking to the door. “Wait, Draco,” you call for him like you did last night. “I’ll see you again, right? You owe me a story,” you gently smile.

Draco lets a pink hue reach his cheeks. “You’ll see me again, darling. I promise,” he tells you. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, this directed toward Ron this time. “Until then, love,” he winks at you before walking out of the room and down the hospital corridor.

Of course, Draco wished he could be the one taking you home from the hospital. He wanted to be with you every step of the way on your recovery. Draco wanted to hold your hand and guide you through every bump in the road. But if this is what you wanted, he had to respect that. He would have his time. He was sure of it. You would come around.

Meanwhile, you changed in the bathroom into the fresh clothes Ron had brought with him. The soft cotton of your clothes made you sigh in relief, it was so much better than that itchy hospital gown. You emerge from the bathroom, straightening out your hoodie before breathing out, “Let’s go home.”

“Brilliant,” Ron beams, guiding you out of the room, his hand on the small of your back. The action makes you gasp a little bit, but you eventually relax and calm yourself down. It’s a friendly thing, (Y/N). Merlin.

The two of you exit in the hospital, leaving behind all of your fears and worries, ready to face whatever obstacle with a newfound confidence. As you climb into the car, Ron starts it and drives away from the hospital, the radio playing whatever muggle music the channel had to offer. The car ride is mostly quiet except for a few exchanges, but that’s when you notice Ron isn’t taking you back to your childhood home. Rather, you are going somewhere else.

“Ronald Weasley,” you furrow your brows. “This isn’t the way home to my parent’s house...where are you taking me?”

Ron doesn’t hide the cheeky grin from his face. “We’re going home alright,” he laughs. “Just my house.”

The Burrow. Merlin, help you.

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years ago

Text

Lovebirds Damian Wayne x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Requested? Yes! From a few lovely anons!

“So far i am loving your blog and went through like all of your writing🥰💖💖💖💗💞! I was wondering if you could do 'star sapphire corp reader' x damien please? Like them getting together” and “Could you please do sapphire lantern reader with your choice of the batboys meeting on a mission?”

LINK TO PROMPTS -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

I absolutely love the sapphire corps! Thank you for these adorable requests! Dami plus a lover actually in tune with their emotions- hell they’re powered off the emotions- is too funny and so adorable! Also we are going to pretend that Raven and Damian aren’t a thing even though I’m using the DCAU teen titans alrighty? Plus it gives me a chance to ship BBRAE YEAHHHH! Hope you enjoy!

I’m so sorry it’s long it’s my first fic back I was so excited haha

“Deep breaths and English you got this” you stared at yourself in the mirror of your makeshift room in titan’s tower. Being the youngest member of the star sapphire corps you were the one tasked with the trip to earth, it made sense, no one wanted to work with teenage earthly heroes but you. Finally, a chance to meet a being similar in age to you! No more old hymns about the power earthly love, you were about to experience it first hand.

Your mentor had called in a favor and you had been escorted to earth by none other than the physical embodiment of flirtatiousness, Hal Jordan. The trip itself was tiring so upon a midnight arrival you retired to your room without meeting anyone. Now, you could hear a bustling of voices, there was so much emotion radiating it seemed slightly overwhelming, so you opted to wait for Hal to come pull you from your room.

At the familiar knock you shook away your nerves and flexed your hands into fists, feelings your ring almost pushing you to go outside. “Howdy miss l/n! Ready to meet your new team?” You were greeted with the cheesy grin that had apparently wooed your mentor, but always prodded you. “Good morning Hal, temporary team remember?” you replied, letting your aura be picked up by your purple light. Hal coughed awkwardly, “we walk on earth newbie, not many float here” embarrassed, you touched back down, clearing your throat as you exited your quarters.

As you made your way down the hallway shouting grew, but upon you entering the room went quiet. With a small smile wave you scanned the room, noticing a green boy who was burning a strange looking food, two other boys who had froze to look at you but stood at a large table that made a strange sound, and lastly a raven haired boy who was sharpening a- sword? At ten in the morning? On the couch. The green boy came up to you first, “hello! You must be y/n! I’m Gar, there’s Jaime, Vic, Robin, and Raven isn’t here but she’s also part of the team! Nice to meet’cha!” Trying to keep up with the names Gar started shouting “SHE’S HERE Y’ALL” apparently to summon a woman who looked like the leader, as she was much older. Following her was a younger girl in a purple cloak, you quite liked her look and vibes, though she felt quite closed off.

After learning more about everyone at a team breakfast with strangely prepared food you were with the team getting suited up as your mission to travel to Celea, a planet whose environment was toxic to any being over 18, making it a “teen titan’s mission” as they called themselves. As some of the titan’s changed into their suits and prepped themselves for combat you bonded with Raven and Blue Beetle as you had all loaded onto the ship fairly easily. “So why do you have a powerless human on your team? Do you not worry for his safety?” you wondered as you watched Robin methodically pack all his gear. “Trust me, Robin could take all of us out if he wanted to, he’s earned his spot on the team from pure skill and being a little bit of a monster- OOMPH” Jaime was cut off by Raven nudging him. You couldn’t help wanting to hear Robin’s story, as you were like him too- powerless but highly trained and craving to do more. Luckily you had a couple hours of flight to get to know the mysterious boy.

The ship was large, built for a league of heroes apparently. This meant the team had spread out but you had stayed in the piloting area to assure yourself the team was on the right trajectory, apparently Robin was as well. “You actually know where we’re going?” his voice shook you from your calculations. “Yes, I’ve visited Celea before, but never to fight it’s people” you mused, wondering how in just a few years since your visiting a toxic group of manipulative outlaws had attempted to stake their claim to the beautiful Celea. “TT, not much of a fighter?” Robin mused snarkily, his flitted down to the ring on your finger. “Y’know your team here thinks you’re pretty strong, but I’d wager you’d be easy work for me” you teased back, twisting your ring around your finger as Robin came closer to you.

(TW FOR BLOOD)

Sitting next to you he began, “my abilities come from my skill, my wit, and my determination. I don’t believe you can say the same princess” you scoffed, “you underestimate me Robin, this ring is nothing without me, not the other way around. Powered from my emotional control and my creativity, my skill takes focus and agility not just glorified muscle memory” you winked at him, enjoying the banter. He scoffed in return. “Yes and what can you do with that ring that I cannot defeat with my blades” he mused. This invitation was perfect. You got up jubilantly, started your lecture. “Clearly you lack certain knowledge Robin, hand me one of your so called blades” you stuck your hand out as Robin rolled his eyes handing you a bat-shaped blade. Without a second thought you cut into the side of your arm, wincing at the pain. “Y/N! What are you doin-” you cut Robin off, beginning to channel your power. “You see, true power is the ability to heal any cut your blades could make, to take was has happened and turn it into a place of love, not malice or hate” as you said this, the familiar purple tone washed over your arm, easily mending the break in your skin. You noticed it felt faster than usual, but wiped it off as adrenaline.

(TW OVER)

At the display of your powers Robin was in awe. “That’s not all I can do” you laughed, creating a small purple hand that pushed Robin’s open jaw closed. He stumbled back angrily, mumbling about accepting your abilities merit. “You impressed now Robin?” you grinned, sticking out your hand to him. He closed the distance, returning your handshake. “Damian.” he said softly. You swallowed, Damian. It was becoming. Your ring began to warmly glow, Damian snapped his hand away wearily as you cooled your emotions. “Oh uh! Sorry, energy burst” you said, it was a half truth at least. Damian nodded, moving to go clean the batarang.

The rest of the trip was short, upon entering Celea you’d divided, Damian was with you as the both of you entered publicly while Beast Boy and Raven entered covertly, planning to cover you if the diplomatic endeavors went south. Blue Beetle and Cyborg, unfortunately, weren’t allowed in Celea as their tech was apparently very old and triggered the planet’s defense system, so they stayed up in the ship was manning comms, prepared for an air fight.

Upon entering you were taken straight to the capital, a sapphire corps was a rarity on Celea and they were all excited for your help. You and Damian met the governing leaders, explaining that you were here to help end the tyranny on the dark side of the planet. As you had hoped, they agreed, you could feel their love for their planet was strong, but that was about all the love on the planet as everyone was so young. It felt slightly difficult to keep a reign on your emotions on Celea, the planet itself was a safe haven for children, almost like a giant orphanage ran by beings that reincarnated frequently as to stay alive on the planet, the concept of pure love was foreign to many of the children and unharnessable. It all felt quite isolating in comparison to earth, a planet driven by intense emotions.

“You look tired already” Damian mused. “I’m fine, just not a huge fan of a child-only planet” you responded as you made your way towards the large base, preparing yourself for a fight. Before Damian could respond you were joined by Raven and Gar. Their presence eased some of the pressure. “You guys love each other, it’s refreshing” you said, both of them froze, staring at you. “Oh uh, we haven’t really talked about that yet” Raven whispered, staring at Gar who was grinning like a child in a candy shop. “I love you too Rae!” he cheered. “Not how I imagined I’d say it but, yes, I do love you idiot” she huffed. Your cheeks flushed, “oh uh, my bad sorry, it just, seemed so obvious” you giggled, secretly glad you’d brought the two together.

“Just a couple’a couples!” Beast boy teased, you felt your cheeks redden, glancing to Damian who was now suddenly interested in looking anywhere but at you. You felt your ring begin to glow again, covering it with your other hand. “Oh wow! Look at that! We’re here! Battle time!” you cleared your throat, setting the group focus on infiltrating the rogue base.

The base itself was relatively small, it hadn’t been flushed out yet but the four of you were here to clear it before they had the chance. Trying to establish a child trafficking ring on a planet of only children was disgusting, and needed stopping before it got the chance. You were especially passionate about this endeavor, the reason for you channeling the power of love was when you lost your sister, that loss of love taught you it’s importance even at a young age, and after training harder than anyone you knew you earned the ring, promising to defend love the way no one defended yours. You would protect these children at any cost.

There was no need for stealth as you had the permission of the Celean government, it was more of an ambush. As Gar shifted into a large tiger, Raven donned her hood, and Damian stripped himself of the Celean garb, you noticed his Robin suit, littered in weapons and ties, he looked like a hero. There was that damn glow again. Channeling it into your focus you felt the warm aura surround you as you lifted off the ground, ready for a fight.

“Y/n should say it!” BB roared, Raven nodded in agreement. “Say what?” you looked at Damian. “We have this tradition where the leader says ‘Titan’s Go’ then we fight, and I guess you’re our leader today” he said, you noticed the light tint hiding beneath his mask. “Okay!” you said, positioning yourself, flexing your hand to feel your ring one last time before shouting.

“TITANS GO!”

And you were off, soaring through the air while BB and Robin took the ground. You noticed a few scared looking kids were being held in pens, and you decided to free them first. As Raven covered you easily, you floated down to the kids, accidentally bonking heads with Robin who stared at you. “I’m so sorry! It’s just we always have to-” “Get the kids out first” he finished your sentence, a small smile dancing at the corner of his mouth. For just a fraction of a second, your eyes flitted down to his lips, feeling his gaze of you the moment felt like slow motion before you both snapped out. “Let’s go! This way!” you used your ring to break the gates as Robin herded the kids out to freedom.

Glancing up you saw a couple rogues grabbing kids as they tried to run away, your heart stopped when you saw one pull out a laser blaster. “Enough!” you screamed, violet rays exploding from your hands as you easily knocked them out of your way. Leaving your post you flew up and began eradicating anyone who tried to harm a child. “No one hurts my sister!” you screeched, your powers growing stronger by the second as you began dividing your powers between knocking out bad guys and literally carrying children to safety. As the last of the kids were safe you escorted Beast Boy out while you and Raven combined your powers to crunch up the base, making it unfixable and uninhabitable forever.

Feeling the adrenaline subside you glanced down to see a herd of children cheering, but your focus drew to Damian who was propped up against a barrel, nursing a laser bullet wound. Rushing to his side you quickly pulled open his suit, a trail of blood trickled into your hands. “Damn kevlar doesn’t stop their bullets apparently” he coughed. “Oh my god Damian don’t go” Gar shifted next to you. “He’s not going anywhere” you said, focussing your energy, feeling the pain and imagining turning the warmth of blood into mending, the pools of blood are just pockets of blissful love.

This wasn’t a good time to tell the team you’d never healed a wound this large before. Positive self talk right? Or negative.

I’m alone on a planet of useless children, surrounded by a glorified furry, goth, and stocked vigilante. No one is here to help you y/n you’ve gotta do this. You felt the wounds begin to mend, after all that focus you’d barely started. Damian you idiot! If you die right now how will I know why my damn ring is gleaming everytime I see your cute face. Fuck. I didn’t mean cute. Yeah I did. Okay, save the cute face. Maybe kiss the cute face if you save it? Yeah. That’s a good deal y/n let’s do that. Your head was rushing through a million thoughts, anything to motivate you to do the impossible. Halfway there, you could feel it. “Holy cow, look! The wound is closing!” Gar pointed at Damian’s chest. “Y-yeah. No help from you green bean” you mumbled. “Oh I know what’ll help!” Gar squeaked, running off. You turned to Damian who was just staring at you bewildered. “Don’t look at me like that when I’m literally repairing your organs bird boy” you whispered through clenched teeth.

Then a surge of power came over you, it felt raw and unchanneled, you glanced up to see Gar mid-kiss with Raven, giving you a thumbs up. The love was short lived, but enough to keep your engine revving. Alright girl you got this, heal, then kiss, maybe. Definitely heal first. He has to live. C’mon. “JUST LIVE DAMMIT” you shouted the last bit, feeling the last of your power drain while the wound completely closed. “Holy shit I’m a badass” you whispered, before feeling intensely light headed.

You woke up in the ship med bay, jolting up. “HE LIVED HE LIVED” you burst up, throwing a fist in the air. The other corps members would be so proud! Your first battle with death you’d won! “You’re right I did live, thanks to you” a familiar voice brought you back down to earth. Next to your bed was Damian, now in casual clothes with a little bandaging on his other wounds. “Oh! uh yeah, you’re totally welcome” you grinned. Awkwardly Damian scooted closer to you. “I think I owe you a certain gratitude” he said, emotions dripping in his voice you hadn’t heard before.

This time his eyes snapped down to your lips, as he leaned in you felt like you were dreaming. When your lips connected you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, feeling lightheaded with pure joy. The kiss itself was soft, blissful and lovely. Damian’s lips felt soft against yours, like they fit with yours like a puzzle piece. Pulling away you stared at him shocked. “I could hear your thoughts when you were healing me, had to live up to your expectations” he winked while you covered your face with embarrassment. “Oh my gosh that’s so embarrassing yikes” you mumbled into your hands. You felt Damian’s hand slide under yours, caressing your cheek, drawing your eyes to his. “I thought it was pretty endearing personally, I suppose it’s because I was being saved by the most gorgeous, fascinating girl I know” he mused, before bringing you in for another kiss, this time more passionate, as if to show his feelings through a kiss instead of words.

You spent the rest of your earthly get-away with the Titans, finding a sort of family with them. When you were called back to your people you promised to return in a few weeks, hoping to move your station to earth. They could always use another lantern right?

When you returned to your mentor, C.Ferris you told her of your earthly adventures. She laughed, “a Star Sapphire’s greatest strength and weakness all wrapped into a snarky earth boy body” and you couldn’t help but agree. And with that, you were sent back to earth, this time returning as Dove, because every Robin needs a lovebird to help them along the way.

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dysphxtric · 4 years ago

Text

Mental Illness - My Mental Health Story

TW: Depression, Anxiety, Self harm, Suicide, Sexual Harassment

“You should smile more.”

“It could be worse.”

“Just don’t think about it.”

These were the phrases I heard throughout all of my elementary and high school years. There was never a time when my peers and teachers, would not mention some bizarre, ignorant statement revolving around mental health. Not to mention, my family also contributed heavily to the stigmatization of mental health issues. Essentially, my family approached the subject of mental health with extreme hesitation, they refused to talk about how it affects people of all age, gender, ethical background (etc.) Every time I would say “I’m feeling lost” my family would automatically dismiss my frantic worries and it was not any different when I went to school. My peers would continuously remind me that my pain was not valid and that I need to stop being so sensitive. My primary parental figures, my mother and brother did not have the adequate knowledge or tools to be able to hold space for me. I would frequently hear my mom say, “I could understand someone suffering from PTSD feeling upset or sad but you’re so young and healthy honey, you have nothing to worry about” or the old classic “Someone else has it worse than you”. Whether I was at home or at school, I heard the same ignorant statements spewing out from what felt like everyone. And I could never comprehend what was the point of these falsely “encouraging” statements and why profusely use them? These kinds of statements do not uplift, nor do they empower those struggling with mental health issues, if anything it makes it extremely debilitating when your emotions are not acknowledged nor validated. One cannot expect to simply brush away another person’s emotion, thought or feeling as though it means nothing.

With that being said, growing up, I lived in a dysfunctional household alongside my mother, my older brother, and my grandmother. My mother would always be juggling work, schooling, and her dating life. My brother was very reluctant about staying home so he would always vanish after school, hang out with friends, party hard and engage with various street substances. Now my grandmother? It was not long after she immigrated that she began to immerse herself within the Jehovah’s Witnesses ideology and “religiously” strayed away from us as my mother likes to say. My mother was never fond of religious practices that were not “orthodox”. My grandmother wanted to indoctrinate my mom, brother, and I into joining her religious little club but failed which resulted in countless fights, yelling matches, and multiple dents left in our walls. The back and forth with the yelling was what scared me most in my childhood even if it was over something as small as not closing the cabinet door. I think it was around this time period I experienced violence/ trauma at home and truth be told I was extremely stressed and anxious all the time as a kid. My mother would cover the punched indents by taking magazines and sticking pages onto the indent. Often times my stomach would turn as I looked at the pages covering the area where my brother punched the wall with brutal force. Moreover, I felt impending sadness because all I ever wanted was for everyone in my family to be able coexist and not argue. I was trying to keep the peace between everyone, yet I was always the one that got caught in the middle of everything whether I liked it or not. I would get blamed a lot for trying to mend things for everyone. Even though all I wanted was the best for all my family members.

Fast forward to my pre-teen/ teenage years. By this point, my brother and grandmother were no longer living under the same roof as my mother and I. My brother was living with his ex-girlfriend while working as a security guard meanwhile my grandmother was living in her own little subsidized apartment preaching the word of Jehovah. At that particular time, my mother and I lived in a marvellous urban semi-detached house in a peaceful neighbourhood. My mother’s boyfriend had moved in with us and for the most part I was really happy because at least it was not just me and her.

My mother’s boyfriend lived with us while I was going to school. He was a really nice, caring and warm-hearted individual although I could never understand why my mother argued with him so much. I once told him “You should propose to her, I can see you two together forever” to which he replied with a welcoming smile.

But eventually just like with all good things, there comes an end. The inevitable breakup my mom went through was very bitter and I had to be there for her. Afterall, I was technically the only child that was around to emotionally comfort her. Ironically, the breakup occurred during the time I was being bullied in school. And it was difficult to be fully present for my mother while dealing with a lot of negativity at school. I had been experiencing cyber bullying on MSN by a bunch of peers calling me “weird”, “ugly” and “different”. To make matters worse, the group of kids that bullied me online ended up following me everywhere I went for recess which posed as a big obstacle for my well being. I had to eat inside the portables when teachers weren’t around or inside the girl’s bathroom stall just to avoid being teased. I never felt like I had a safe space to myself where I could be vulnerable and open up. Not to mention, it was a difficult time and there was practically no one I could confide in. I didn’t have a social circle of supportive friends, after all I was an antisocial person. Fear washed over me as I worried about disclosing my unpleasant experience to my mother because she was already dealing with so much, the heartbreak, the bills, work problems (etc.), it was then and there that I decided to lie instead of telling the truth. Ultimately, lying became my cooping mechanism to deal with the ongoing pain.

I kept up the lying for a long time in order to make it seem like everything was okay. I lied to everyone from family members to school peers to the teaching staff to principals to counselors.

For the longest time, lying sheltered me from all sorts of unnecessary questions. No one could really tell whether I was truthful or disloyal because I was able to make it sound believable. When I was a teenager, I continued to go down the same destructive path by being dishonest with myself and others. Many times, the thought of suicide crossed my mind and when I started to think about it and plan/coordinate the intricate details it did not hit me that something was very wrong, and I needed urgent help. A big part of the problem was that I was so used to downplaying my pain, given my family circumstance and stigmatization I experienced growing up with. There is no denying that I would engage in negative self talk convincing myself that I deserved the pain and suffering for not being likeable enough or for not being smart enough.

Sometimes I think that is the thing… people do not understand that I lied because that was what I was required to do in order to survive my childhood. I, myself do not tolerate lying and I think it is a form of betrayal and if I were to be completely honest, I would have NEVER lied to my mom had it been safe for me to express myself authentically in my household.

I did not live in a household where it was safe to speak my mind freely and disagree with my mother. Disagreeing was always the last thing I wanted to do, disagreeing meant I got the belt, my devices would get confiscated or that I was going to get grounded. They say, “Honesty is the best policy” and I do not disagree however, it is not as black and white as one may think. In my situation, lying was not only an adaptive coping mechanism but it became a survival mechanism to keep me safe from harm/threat.

I did not have very much individuality growing up. I felt as though having an opinion of my own was bad. In order to perpetuate this fixated mindset that I had, my mother constantly deemed certain attributed behaviours or thoughts as “good” or “bad”. So, say you were upset about a recent breakup with your partner, my mother would scoff and say, “You know life isn’t just about love right?” and play it like it means nothing to the person affected by the situation.

The first time I ever felt depressed was when I was 13. At that age I did not understand why I was feeling what I was feeling. All I knew was that there was something wrong with me. It did not help when I was being picked on by my classmates telling me “Go die”, “You belong in a ditch ugly bitch.”

The moment when things started getting out of hand was when I was first started my Art and Family Studies class in the same semester. In both classes I was placed into groups amongst other students. In Family Studies I had to be in a collaborative group that would divide responsibilities and tasks accordingly. When it came to cooking, my group consisted of four snobby, rich yet immature peers who were unwilling to help and contribute in any shape or form, I had to become the bigger person and sure enough I took all the responsibilities on myself. Though, it was not a smart move. But I was super shy and felt anxious to do anything different least to say speak up and advocate for myself, so I did what I had to do which was prepare meals, clean, and wash the dishes. At the end of the day, none of my peers thanked me, the only thank you I got was getting groped while washing the dishes and getting laughed at.

After what happened I ran to my best friend in tears to tell her what happened just to find her say “It’s not that bad, you’ll be fine” I felt like my blood was going to boil and I was about to start fuming. I stood thinking “Huh, that is so weird, is this how you comfort a person after being sexually harassed?”

Not to sound all grim but that experience showed me that no one really cared about me. No one cared that I got groped or how I felt in that moment. Let alone not even my “best friend” who was supposed to fulfill her role and be there for me. All I wanted was comfort and to be heard out. I could not even tell my mother about this experience until I turned 21 because of how ashamed I felt carrying around that experience and not having the ability to open up and mourn what happened that day and to be able to heal that damaged part of myself. I carried that incident with me for 7 years in silence because I was scared of being honest.

That specific experience was very detrimental to my mental health. Everything began to spiral out of control, I sprawled into a dark depressive state. I began to have intense panic attacks, insomnia, forgetfulness (etc.) After a certain duration of time, I had thoughts of suicide lingering at the back of my head. I questioned my worth, my identity, my culture, my everything.

The bullying and name calling persisted and became so intense that I ended up missing weeks of school time. Some of the boys in my Art class found it funny to make fun of my last name and call me “Prostitute”.

One day in the early springtime, my Art teacher noticed the marks on my wrists as I was painting and had not said anything until I made it to my last period class. I was called down to the guidance counselors office and was interrogated with questions.

“It has come to our concern that one of the staff members noticed cuts on your arms.”

I sat in silence trying hard to contain my anxiety.

“Are you struggling with depression or low mood? Is everything okay at home?”

It came to the point when I got so tired of lying about my pain that I admitted “Yes, I am struggling, I need help”. I dived into the bullying occurrences, the cat calling, my low grades, my self-esteem, the groping, my home situation (etc). After that, I was told that my mother would have to be called down to the school for “safety” reasons even though my counselor promised not to disclose any personal information to my mother. My greatest fear was that I did not want my mom to know that something was wrong.

Of course, my mom came to my school. She was told everything that had happened. I met her at the counselor’s office just to find her wailing in distress “You are such an embarrassment” and “Your counselor told me what you did, how could you do this?”. When the counselor gave us resources for help, my mother grabbed the papers and shoved them into the trash, got up and yanked me out the office.

The next three days that followed, my mother withdrew into her room not saying a word to me. I felt really uneasy and upset. She had her right to be alone but locking herself away from me and avoiding communication altogether? Didn’t make much sense.

I felt extremely guilty for not opening up to my mother sooner. But instead of choosing to be compassionate and caring she chose to resort to anger. She furiously blamed me for being “quiet” and “not trustful” which all landed on my shoulders again. It was “my” fault I thought.

Bottling this up resulted in a full-blown mental breakdown. I could not focus or concentrate because of everything building up. It came to the point where my mom had to choose between living in a toxic community or starting fresh elsewhere.

And even though my mother kept subjecting me to her harmful stigmatizations, the transition from my old school to my new one helped me greatly. When we moved away, I gradually started to feel better emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Very quickly, I ended up adapting to my new high school where I finally made friends.

One thing I cannot deny is that there definitely was a silver lining to all of this. Although I went through severe bullying and torment at school and home, I managed to reclaim my power and through that I discovered my inner peace after being extracted from my toxic high school. The new school that I ended up attending completely changed me and inspired me to become a more authentic version of myself. It was almost as though I did a complete 180°

My new peers and teachers were enthusiastic, open-minded and caring. The new community I was surrounding myself in was a very positive one that broke down stigmas and encouraged deep understanding and acceptance. My mind was blown when I found that it was easier to conversate with girls and guys at my new school, I was gradually becoming confident and more vocal, and I liked the feeling of not hiding myself away from the world. It felt rejuvenating to finally be heard and seen by others.

Slowly but surely, I began to partake in various activities at my school. I joined the Poetry Club which I would have never considered joining had I stayed back in my old school due to fear of how I was perceived. Ultimately, I started caring and nurturing myself more. My new friends supported me, and teachers began to openly listen to my stories and encouraged me to write. When I started writing, I realized that I could use this medium to cope with my depression and anxiety. The acknowledgment made a major difference in my life like never before.

If it were not for the transition from my old high school, I would have not made progress in developing into the woman I am today. I know that I am not my pain, I am not my mistakes.

Do I still struggle and have bad days? Yes, of course. Just like any human being I have my days when I am not feeling the greatest however, I am more open to learning about how to engage with my mind, body and soul in order to soothe myself during turbulent times. I still have that inner critic however, I have been engaging with activities such as bike riding, painting, drawing, and reading to help occupy my mind which as a result has reduced the time that I spend ruminating. Occupying myself has worked magic, I am now able to reduce and control how much time I spend self-loathing, criticizing, and judging myself. Rather than judging every thought, I’ve learned to slow down and observe.

If you stuck along until the end of my story, I want to thank you for reading through my experience. My hope is that my story can shed some light on the myths and stigmas surrounding mental health, especially within the Eastern European community. I want you all to know that you are ALL valid and I wanted to be able to share my story so that my readers know that they are not alone.

#mental health #mental health awareness #depression #mdd #mood disorder #anxiety #gad #my story #hope #bullying #narcissistic parent #end the stigma #recovery #fyp

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loki-darkprince-odinson · 4 years ago

Note

King Loki, I apologize for the rant but I would like some advice.

My father always makes me feel like complete garbage. He is always putting me down, never appreciates me, and makes my depression so much worse. I'm fixing up a house to move in with my friends but I'm still stuck at the house since my parents won't help me get my license or a car, much less a job. I cook, do dishes, take care of the pets, take out the trash, get the mail, do my laundry, wash towels, and help with their laundry. I also take care of my sick mother and while I'm currently on summer break, I'm going to college to become a clinical psychologist. Even then, my father will point out other things that I don't do, and expects me to clean the entire house every day. He always talks about how he needs to do everything around the house yet all he does is sleep, play video games, and watch television. He also says he works hard yet on many occasions he says he sits on his ass all day on his tablet. He also yells so much. I get scared every day when he starts yelling because I worry he may leave us, which he has threatened before, or he may actually hit us. He never has hit either my mother or I yet, and says he never would but he slams and throws things when angry at us so it's his way of showing us how much he wants to hit us, even if he doesn't realize it. However, not only do I have many responsibilities, My depression makes it difficult for me to do much, and he makes it worse. Even when I do try to clean the house he always makes comments such as: "About time." or "How long until it gets cleaned next time?" or "This was half assed, you didn't do it right." I have tried so hard to have a connection with him but I'm so tired of fighting for a relationship that he doesn't care about. I can't address my concerns with him because he will threaten to not take me to college and pay the bills. Do you have any advice to help me deal with my father until I can escape?

Best regards, Catrina.

“Catrina,” Loki drawls, in his smooth resonate voice. “I firstly must commend your good work. For caring for your ill mother, minding the household needs, and that you get up in the morning even if your soul is weary and your bones ache for a rest; that you keep on living even if you do not know how to anymore. Secondly, you have my deepest sympathies for your grievances. I am all too familiar with what it is like to seek the approval of a parent; only for there to be none in return.” His eyes were completely unfocused, yet his pallid features bore the most intense concentration as memories flowed unbidden.

He says nothing for a moment. Then, something in the edge of his mouth—and the corner of his eyes—resembled the ghost of a sad smile.

“Those whom I knew and called my mother and father are dead. That much is beyond dispute. They were not my real parents, but they raised me as their own. I daresay they loved me. That had been in dispute, at least in my own mind for awhile. I found out very late that my identity was a lie. Not Asgardian, not a son of Odin, I was completely unmade. That was how I felt when I learned of my true parentage. I was a fraud, a monster; it explained so much. It explained why I never felt like I fit in, why I would never be my brother's equal, why I would never get what I'd been promised my whole life.” His voice was soft, hoarse. Intent.

Loki raises his left hand and rests his forefinger against his lips as a line forms between his own eyebrows in thought.

“I have lingered around Midgard long enough to come to an understanding of how your minds tick. I shall do my best to give advice where I can.

Try, if you will, to put things into perspective. The most loving parents commit murder with smiles on their faces. They force one to destroy the person they really are: a subtle kind of murder. Even the most loving parents damage their children with the best intentions—to protect them, to guide them, to better them. In most cases, it would appear they do it by imprinting their own fears and prejudices on them.

The point is, parents are mere, imperfect people.

They have flaws, struggles and impaired judgement. They have both emotional and intellectual handicaps. Regardless of their parental role, they are afflicted by personal blockages and limitations.

But most of all, they are people who make mistakes, and who are terrified of being judged by their children.

Learn to see your difficult parent as just that; human. Learn to see their emotional immaturity as a type of disability.

With that in mind, you would do well to keep your expectations of them low.

In many ways the effect a difficult parent has on ones self is fueled by their feelings of injustice and the belief that things could be different, or ought to be different.

In other words, your expectations dictate how you feel.

You need to let go of your expectations and accept your parent for who they are.

You cannot expect someone with, say, a narcissistic personality, to act with empathy and kindness. No more than you can expect a scorpion not to sting.

Difficult parents are much easier to deal with when you accept that they will not change. So do not expect of them more than they are capable of, and you will not be disappointed or hurt.

Do not fall into the illusion of guilt, Catrina.” He warns. “A difficult parent loves nothing more than to make you feel like you’ve hurt them. Or, in a different scenario, like you’re a bad person if you do not do something they ask.

Do not fall for it. If they’re setting a guilt trap, calmly tell them that you do not appreciate being emotionally manipulated, and you will not tolerate it anymore.

Manipulators, and I should know, detest being called out on their dirty tricks.

If they continue to harass you, reiterate that you cannot do what they’re asking you to do this time, and you need them to respect that.

The trick is agreeing with everything they’re saying (how can they argue when you agree with them?) and re-stating your decision over and over again.

Now this part I find to be… far more easier said than done. You must let go of the need for your father's approval, Catrina. It goes without saying that every child needs and wants their parents’ approval. It is normal to want it, and it is normal to receive it.

Yet so many have to accept the fact that this is not going to happen. For whatever reason, their parent has chosen to withhold their approval. Some difficult parents do it as a form of punishment. While others hope to influence their child in the “right” direction.

Most likely, your father loves you, but they have a very warped idea of what parental love is.

In their misguided quest to make you into a version of themselves, they missed the chance to get to know you. And so they cannot appreciate you for the wonderful being that you are.”

He shrugs elegantly. “It is their loss. When you realize this and let go of the need for their approval, you will be able to start living your life in a whole new way.

When confronting your father, be direct and calm without expecting a specific response. That is the part you cannot control. The part that is within your control is letting your thoughts and feelings known, which is empowering.

Stick to the facts and use “I” statements such as, “I feel like my words do not matter to you when you constantly interrupt me” or “I feel scared and misunderstood when you yell at me”

Remember that manipulative parents are not known for their empathy. They will try to confuse you, go on the offensive, or assume the role of a victim.

Do not allow them to bully you into submission by invoking guilt or pity. State your case in a calm and polite manner, and stay cool regardless of their response.

Your goal is to be honest about your feelings, and to make it clear that you will not tolerate certain behaviors.” He softly clears his throat.

“Last but not least, an unhappy alternative is forgoing the relationship that is too harmful. I know, a parent is not someone you can so easily cut out of your life. But if all else fails and your father continues to cause you psychological harm, then this may very well need to be taken into considerable consideration; at least for the foreseeable future. Sometimes it is the only logical recourse.

A parent that is fundamentally incapable of showing love and support, unable to see the error of their ways after numerous attempts to communicate how their behavior or words affect you, consistently dismissive, demeaning or critical, manipulative in a habitual manner, punishing and cruel whenever you disobey, are disrespectful of your boundaries and using threats and intimidation to get what they want is a destructive force that will continue to tear you down until you put a stop to it.

It is not an easy feat, my dear. The parent-child bond is hardwired into the brain, which means children get attached to even the most awful of parents.

But consider the cost of having that toxic relationship in your life—stress breeds anxiety, depression, internalized feelings of inadequacy, and failed personal relationships.

I wish you all the best, Catrina. I truly do.”

#loki #loki rp #loki odinson #ask loki #ask #parental troubles #gothiccatrina #loki roleplay

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formenis · 4 years ago

Text

Score of zero: Love (”Gym” pt.2)

@ everybodyhatesluh asked: “I need part 2 of "gym"! Plss! Where the reader tells her love for L! And then her dad askes her who is her boyfriend! I would Love! Luh~💫💛🦋"

Tennis references~

I like putting L in a difficult position, ehehe~

pairing: L x Yagami!fem!reader

warning: fluff I guess?

requested: yes

Remember English is not my first language (and it’s a bit late here) so I’m sorry about the mistakes in my stories.

«"Chocolate Covered Strawberry Brownies"? No, I don't have the mould»

Flip.

«"Heart-Shaped Cake"? Too obvious»

Flip.

«"Strawberry Shortcake Fudge"? It's too pink»

Y/N closed the book and groaned. «Ugh! I can't get my head round this! The fact that he loves all sweets bothers me…»

It was late afternoon at Yagami house. Orange sunbeams lighted up the kitchen and the living room creating a relaxing atmosphere, all despite the narrow space of the house. Y/N was alone in that moment: Light was somewhere with Soichiro, Sachiko was visiting one of her friends and Sayu was at school for some project.

Y/N took advantage of the situation to bake something for Hideki on the occasion of Valentine's Day. However, she sensed that Hideki would never reciprocate her feelings: he gave her the impression to be out of her reach.

«Come on! I'm a Yagami, after all! At least I have to try» Y/N leafed again through the cookery book when she heard the front door open.

«I'm home!»

It was Sayu, she came back earlier from school. Y/N quickly tried to hide the cookbook but Sayu entered the kitchen in a rush. «Y/N~ What are you doing?»

«Me? I wanted to bake something…»

«Really? For who?~» Sayu asked with a strange smirk.

«For myself I guess?» Y/N lied hoping Sayu would go away. But her little sister's smirk just grew wider.

«I don’t believe you~» the two sisters stared at each other for entire minutes. They were secretly hoping the other would give in.

Y/N sighed. «Fine, it's for a boy…» she admitted after a while, Y/N couldn’t lie at her cute sister.

Sayu, on the other hand, was squealing like a fangirl. «I knew it! I knew it! My sis has a crush!»

«Sayu please! Don’t yell…and don’t tell dad!»

Once again, the youngest Yagami smirked mischievously. «I will be as silent as the grave…at one condition»

Y/N sighed again. «What condition…»

«You have to help me with homework for a month»

Y/N complained loudly but if it was the price for Sayu's silence, she had to accept it. So Y/N agreed with her sister and together they started to choose a good sweet to give to this mysterious boy. Y/N told her about how they met and how she became infatuated by him despite most people would define him as "weird".

«Since you played tennis with him, why don’t you do something that recalls a tennis match?» Sayu said casually while browsing through the cookbook bored. At first Y/N didn’t pay attention to what she said but then, after a long reasoning, she hugged Sayu very tightly.

«Sayu, you're a genius!»

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

Something in L's plan went wrong. Impossible, nothing planned by him went wrong…but what happened?

Originally, his intention was to get closer to Y/N Yagami in order to find some evidence about his involvement in the Kira case. More in particular, a proof that Y/N's older brother was, indeed, Kira himself. L would appear in the right places at the right moments, he would always say the right things and he would always be a great listener. Of course he already knew everything about the Yagami family so every confidence Y/N would do to him, the greatest detective L was already informed about it. But he acted as if he never heard anything.

Initially, it went well. Y/N was getting closer and closer to him, her confidences became more intimate and she opened more to him. L was even touched when he heard from her –during the period of surveillance- that she was in love with him, he found her cute. In this exact moment everything fell for him. And L fell too…yes, he fell in love with Y/N Yagami.

In this situation we shouldn’t forget about Soichiro. He, being Y/N's father, was more than bothered by what he heard from the cameras in his house. But not because he didn’t trust his Y/N but mostly because he didn’t trust this "boy" she talked about.

«Uhm Chief…are you sure about this?»

«Matsuda, we have to investigate. This boy could be Kira!»

«But Chief…I think your daughter would never date a potential Kira» Aizawa replied looking at his superior with shock.

«Aizawa is right, Yagami-san. Please, focus your energies on the Kira case and not on your daughter's romantic life»

Soichiro snorted, not fully convinced, but Ryuzaki was his superior co-worker and he had to obey. At least for now.

«Casual or formal attire?»

«Casual of course. It's not a date…yet»

«Sayu!»

The two sister, together in Y/N's room, were deciding the outfit for Y/N's love confession. Now she understood her classmates' nervousness about Valentine's day.

«Dress or not dress?» Y/N asked unsure in front of the mirror with two cute dresses in her hands.

«Y/N, wear whatever makes you comfortable…even your school uniform if you want»

She nodded at Sayu and chose F/C shirt / blouse / sweatshirt / hoodie paired with F/C pants / skirt / shorts and favourite shoes. In her bag / small backpack she put all her belongings and the cake she baked for Hideki. Y/N applied a little bit of makeup and brushed her H/C hair in a cute hairstyle.

«How do I look?»

«Gorgeous sis~»

Y/N smiled at Sayu and thanked her for all the advices. Shortly afterwards she would confess her feelings for a boy met at the gym.

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

And then, the day came. 14th February. Y/N decided to meet Hideki after one of his tennis matches at the To-Oh University. She was so nervous, she could sense how sweaty the hands were and how the heart was beating fast.

She was going to come back home and to postpone everything when she saw Hideki at the door of the gym.

«Y/N-chan, hello» Hideki walked closed, slouched as always with his tennis racket in one hand. He hadn’t no sweat on him despite the other athletes behind him were tired.

«H-Hideki-kun! Hi…how was the training today?» Y/N wanted to slap herself for the stutter when she greeted him.

«Quite boring, the others were not skilled as you or your brother» he smiled at her clearly moved by that sudden shyness from the second-born Yagami.

«Would you…would you go to the nearby cafeteria? I heard there's a special menu today»

«Gladly Y/N-chan»

And together they went to this new cafeteria near the To-Oh. However, the too much mushy aspect of the place made Y/N regret the offer she made to Hideki.

«Ah today is Valentine's Day…» Hideki said once inside the cafeteria, looking curiously around like a child inside a toy store: pink and red hearts everywhere –even sweets and candies had that shape-, a strawberry scent filled the air and on TV there was a famous musical.

The waiter asked if Y/N and Hideki were a couple and Y/N quickly said they were only friends. With a fast look, Y/N noticed that Hideki didn’t flinch at that statement. Maybe he really didn’t fell anything for her. A wave of sadness and disappointment hit her like a train and suddenly she started to hate that day.

Hideki and Y/N, once the waiter showed them a table, sat down they talked about many things: sport, University, school and about Kira too.

«What do you think of Kira, Y/N-chan?»

«Well…» she thought for a bit before answering. «It doesn’t matter how noble their ideals are, killing people is always a crime. So I hope this L will catch them»

«Yes, I hope it too»

The two of them were so much focused on their conversation that they didn’t notice someone recognised them from the shop window.

«Matsu look! Isn't that Ryuzaki?» Misa was looking at the shop window searching for something to buy for Light when she spotted a familiar black haired boy who was crouched on the chair instead of sitting.

Matsuda, who was with her according to L's orders, spied inside the cafeteria and he recognised not only Ryuzaki but Chief Yagami's daughter too. «That's Light's sister! So the famous "boy met at the gym" is Ryuzaki! I have to tell the Chief»

In that moment, Y/N grew nervous when she remembered the cake in her bag / small backpack. And Hideki must have noticed it.

«Are you alright, Y/N-chan?» his monotone voice distracted the young girl from her nervous thoughts.

«Well…actually no»

«Is something bothering you?»

«I…have something to tell you, Hideki» she shifted anxiously in the chair.

«What is it?» again, Hideki's emotionless voice didn’t suggest her what he was feeling. Had she to continue? Or was it better to end the "date" there?

Her shaking hands curled into fists, determination was clear in her E/C eyes. «If I tell you I… You know… Care about you… Would you laugh at me? I never felt so good around someone…for once I was not Light Yagami's sister or Chief Yagami's daughter. With you I can be just Y/N, a girl who clearly cannot even choose a proper place to confess, eh!» she chuckled at the last part, maybe her attempt to wash away her current nervous state.

Then she took a cute pastel purple box from the bag / small backpack and placed it on the table. «I made this…for you» she didn’t dare to look up at him, scared of his reaction.

Y/N heard he took the box and slowly he was opening it. Its contents were chocolate-covered cake balls that recalled tiny tennis balls. «Since I first saw you after a tennis match, I thought it would be nice doing something in memory of that day» she added shortly after, her gaze was still focused on her lap.

On the other hand, despite from outside he would appear calm and composed, L was panicking inside. He knew Y/N was going to confess, he knew what day was…so why that confession, those simple words hit him so hard?

"Internal check: sweaty hands, dry mouth, quickened heartbeat and…warm face. Wait…warm face?" L thought while observing the tiny cakes in front of him.

Yes, L was blushing and his brain was in tilt. Too many thoughts, too many emotions so suddenly. It floored him.

«But it seems…I imagined everything» Y/N broke the embarrassing silence that filled the air between them. Her voice cracked showing how much hurt she was. «Thank you for your time, Hideki-kun…and sorry» she stood up and bowed at him.

She was going to leave the cafeteria when a strong grip at her wrist stopped her. She turned and a tint of pink painted her cheeks, in front of her one of the cutest sight: a tomato-red Hideki who was looking away embarrassed.

«Excuse me, Y/N-chan, I have to say something against what you said earlier…»

«Uh?»

«I apologise if I didn’t reply to you but…hm…I don’t know the protocol for this kind of situations. Few moments ago I had so many thoughts in my mind but my mouth wasn’t able to formulate a proper phrase» L started to say, now it was his turn to be embarrassed, something so rare for him. «And about what you said before…I accept them. Your feelings, I mean. People like you are rare and precious…and since I always want the best, I want you by my side» he moved his dark eyes on her noticing she was even redder than him.

Y/N was staring at him in disbelief. Did she hear it right? He said…he accepted her feelings. She wasn’t dreaming, right?

«So…would you eat those sweets with me?» Hideki asked her and she nodded with a bright smile on her face.

At the same time, at the HQ, Matsuda informed Soichiro about what he saw at the cafeteria. At those words, Soichiro became gloomy and baffled.

«Ryuzaki is my daughter's boyfriend and my superior co-worker…this is even worse than I imagined»

Aizawa and Mogi were looking at him concerned. «Matsuda…you owe me 30.000¥» (A/N: something like 275$ USD with the actual exchange rate).

The young detective sighed defeated and gave the money to Aizawa.

«I knew I was right all along»

#death note #death note headcanons #l lawliet #l x reader #l x y/n #female reader #l x you #soichiro yagami #light yagami #death note fluff

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ophiuchus-interactive · 4 years ago

Text

I Must Be Cruel Only to Be Kind

Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.

A drabble in which Valerian hurts himself using other people's ribs, and Norma Jean is having none of it.

(mentions of blood, poor parenting, drinking)

"Are you outta yer fuckin' mind?"

Valerian didn't say anything, instead taking the chance to spit more blood into the bucket he cradled in his lap, ignoring the shake of his hands.

Norma Jean clicked her tongue, turning to the wash basin to wring out the bloodied rag, ignoring the smell of turpentine and alcohol wafting in air. Their presence in this town was already on thin ice, was Valerian trying to give them a reason to be driven out of town by an angry mob?

She said nothing. It's hard to come up with words to scold the young boy when you're so ready to slap the nonsense out of him- so Norma Jean didn't. She fumed, quietly. Maybe if she bit back her words long enough, they'll die within her.

"They called Ma a drunk."

Valerian said this matter-of-factly, though wobbly, as there were at least two of his teeth at the bottom of the bucket he held.

Norma Jean came to a pause, her fingers clenching the dirty rag, but seemingly no longer capable of wringing it. She turned slowly toward the boy, sympathy and fury mixing and melding on her face.

"Oh?"

Valerian nodded, his blackened eyes making it difficult for Norma Jean to truly see past the swelling, but she could tell enough that he wasn't looking at her. It was hard to,

" 'Said Pa deserved what he got, and Ma was just some...dumb whore,"

"Valerian!"

"It's what they said!" He protested, "And I had to hear it from 'em first! They got what they damn well deserve-"

With a raise of a hand, Norma Jean silences Valerian, her reddened palm more than enough of a sign that perhaps, for Valerian, it was time to stop talking. Immediately.

"How many times have I told you to not listen what those foolish boys have to say? They're doing this on purpose, you dolt! I'd box your ears in if it wasn't for the fact they looked like they did it for me!"

Despite Valerian's previous bravado, he shrunk under his grandmother's words. Each admonishment feeling like a weight to carry, heavy stones piling against his skin. It shouldn't matter what they were trying to goat him into, he still beat the shit out of them anyway, so what does it matter?

Why don't the bruises and broken teeth feel good?

Norma Jean watched Valerian carefully, her heart lodging itself in her throat, more than aware that what ultimately sat in front of her was not only her grandson- not only her flesh and blood- but a kid. A child with no parents, no matter how hard she tries to be one, herself. Ain't no amount of reassurances is gonna change that fact.

But we were all young once. Young and dumb and stupid enough to think fighting enough people who said enough stupid shit would make the hurt go away. But it won't. It doesn't.

And, hell. She doesn't know how to make it all better.

"Val,"

He looks up when she says her name, gently wiping away angry tears that had fallen from his swollen face,

"Ain't fair, Gram," Valerian protests, "ain't right,"

"You're right," She agrees solemnly, "it's not. And people like the boys you fought today are always gonna be around. They're gonna judge you, they're gonna say some mighty awful things- but you cannot, Val, you cannot go looking for a fight like that, you hear me?"

Norma Jean lowers herself to Valerian's level, her weathered hands taking Valerian's, a gentle gesture despite the serious and otherwise imposing tone she held,

"You carry yourself the way your father would want you to. Your mother..." Norma Jean's voice catches, and briefly there was the slightest crack to it, "...your mother would want the same. You can't let 'em get to you."

"But-"

"No," Norma Jean says, cutting Valerian off with a shake of the head, "no more fighting, Valerian. Gossip ain't worth dying over."

Valerian looked at his grandmother, clearly conflicted as to what he wanted to say. There was a part of him that was confused- are we not supposed to defend who we love? is it so wrong to do so?

The other part, the bruised and beaten up part, told Valerian to shut it, and do what his grandmother said.

And he did.

#valerian itoos #a look into #tw: injury

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 1

Rating: Explicit. 18+

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Bad girls are sad girls! Always wondered what goes through the mind of a spoiled, rich but intelligent and perceptive teenager? Have you found yourself craving that adrenaline rush, the danger of a forbidden fruit? Okay. That was cheesy as hell. Gross.

Let's try again. Sarcasm? Check. Vine references? Hell yes! Crude humour? Check. Blunt honesty? Double check. We're living in a Lana del Rey song, ladies.

The author doesn't actually condone codependent relationships in real life. This is a filthy little fantasy. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves all the love 💙

Pining. I was pining after Stark and it made me upset. I thought I was better than that. Better than acting the part of a lovesick puppy, begging for scraps of attention- a kind word, a pat on the shoulder, a blanket thrown over me in my sleep. Even if he was my Mount Olympus, I wasn't exactly on board with starting the whole damn journey in the first place.

Most of all, I hated being a cliché. I tried my best to avoid showing how I felt and with time, I think I excelled at it. I am really good with things if I really put my mind to it. Was it a blessing, or was it a curse? Only the future will tell. I try not to think about it, as I prefer not to stress out too much. Peter was the anxious kid and I was the calm one. I was the Ying to his Yang. He flipped his shit often and I always calmed him down and cleaned up after him. No complaints there, Pete is pure and precious and I would kill everybody and then myself if he actually got hurt.

I'm only a year older than him and that year feels like an uncrossable bridge to me. We get along like a house on fire and I delight in the way he starts smiling when we're paired together for a project. Deep inside I'm sure he thinks of me as one of his best friends, his homies but-and there's always a but-I can't reciprocitate that. He goes to decathlon after school with his wholesome BFF duo, I go to a local dive bar with a fake ID I'd made sometime when I was about 15.

Peter has everything I wish I've ever had. Good for him. I'm not going to mess that up, no matter how much my angst demands I throw a tantrum and become, like, a supervillain or something.

I banter, instead. I chit-chat. I laugh and I repeatedly make a joke out of myself. Nobody suspects a thing, and I'm not surprised. People always see what they want to see. I've been the weird loner since middle school. Not the sad kind, of course, my pride wouldn't let me. I'm too good at things to be completely ignored. Teachers adore me, the event planning committee approaches me every year with tentative pleas for advice. The list goes on and on; what they don't understand is that it's just High School. Another year and I'll be out of there and nobody will be wiser.

I feel like a liar every time I'm excited. Because I'm not that - I don't care about their stupid field trips or collaborative projects. My mind is five steps and two hops ahead of that bullshit. It has to be or I just won't make it in the world.

"Parker-pen, Mr. Stark. G'day, sirs," I nodded, entering the lab, looking straight ahead. They both were hunched over... Something vaguely mechanical and I was terribly, horribly hungover. Saturday night was Science night but I'd gone to bed around 2PM after a party ran way too late.

"Hi," and "Powerpuff girl," came from them respectively, and they didn't even lift their heads.

I wondered if I could just skedaddle and leave them to their big brain time. "Is this a bad time? I can come tomorrow instead," I immediately regretted speaking, even to my own ears my voice sounds scratchy.

"No, actually, Dr. Ban-Bruce-wanted to talk to you," Peter mumbled out half-coherently. Tony kept ignoring me and I was fine with that. The less temptation I have the less trouble there will be.

"I'm not playing with his zucchini again," I groaned, causing the intricate pile of metal to squeak sadly as Pete tripped over his own damn body, jostling the prototype in the process. I could have sworn the room got several degrees hotter from the boy's blush alone.

Tony cackled, shuffling away from the newly ruined prototype. "He won the damn contest, you should've seen the judges faces," The engineer's grin threatened to split his face in half. I poked at my phone in muted interest. "Hold up, Friday has a recording. I definitely recorded the thing."

A holo-screen popped up. Tranquil scenes of a local fair, gourds and other assorted vegetables of various grotesque sizes were scattered throughout the square. An unmistakable mop of curly greying hair posed proudly next to a zucchini half the size of Hulk - I was fairly certain genetically engineering the plant was cheating and warned him so but somehow Banner managed to persuade the judges into letting him participate, and ultimately win, the competition for the Biggest Zucchini. Some of them were quite shocked at the size of that thing and well - well, their glances were quite contemplative to say the least.

"Damn, Tony, that blonde chick's face tells me all I need to know," I gave a lopsided smirk in the engineer's general direction. That was our thing, you see? He called me these ridiculous cutesy nicknames and asked me about getting my nails done or going to the mall and I'd make salacious comments and go on an occasional flirtatious spree. That was comfortable. We both enjoyed making Peter blush and giggle like the little schoolboy that he was.

"Our Brucie bear is a freak, don't let him tell you any different, Princess," Tony winked at me.

"Oh, I know all about it, Tones," I suggestively wiggled my eyebrows. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter groan and palm his face. I briefly bumped my knuckles to Tony's outstretched hand and made my way to the adjacent lab that hosted the second resident crazy scientist.

"Bruce?"

"Oh, hi there, come on in," He smiled warmly at me and I relaxed, shrugging off the tension in my limbs that seemed to appear every time Tony was around me. Banner's soft, friendly nature always made me feel welcomed and appreciated.

We made small talk as I threw on a lab coat and some protective glasses and discarded my bag in the far corner, away from any possible explosions. I congratulated him on his recent victory - here is when I say that despite what most will say, Banner has a serious competitive mean streak and isn't afraid to get down and dirty when it comes to matters of his personal pride.

That's what makes us alike, I think. I have too much dignity and self-respect to walk around Tony with stars in my eyes and hang around his neck like yesterday's tie.

The quiet, even pace of doing lab work made me completely lose track of time. Some time passed as I felt the crick in my neck become noticeable, and the deep ache in my calves from standing and dancing yesterday worsened. I hopped onto the nearest table, hunched over a tablet, eyes skimming over research articles - most of it didn't register at all in the wake of a dull throb behind my temples. My hair limply hung over my face - I had to wash it to get rid of the stench-hard liquor and cigarettes - but I was way too lazy to style it properly.

I ignored the swaying strands until a large palm gently tucked them behind my ear, a white lab coat coming into my field of view. "You okay?" Banner's quiet voice interrupted my reading. I lifted eyes enough to see he was wearing a dorky button-up in some gross shade of blue under the lab coat. His eyes were affectionate behind thinly rimmed glasses.

"Rough Friday night?" He questioned.

I chuckled. "Yeah, I'm hungover as fuck." There was no point in hiding the obvious; I'm sure the bags under my eyes already had tattled on me.

He chuckled, too, leaning his hip against the table, one broad arm coming to wrap around me in a hug. Usually he wasn't so touchy-feely; but I wasn't complaining. Banner was really, really warm. "I'll spare you the lecture on underage drinking," He said with another chuckle.

"Yeah, it's pretty pointless. You'd be three years too late."

A deep sigh left him, both of his arms wrapping around me in a comfortable embrace. I rested my chin on his shoulder, trying my best to really avoid showing how touch-starved I was. I was a hundred percent sure they all figured out my family life was difficult; the last thing I needed was their pity.

"Y'know, we should sit down and talk someday," He said after a brief moment of hesitation. "About your future. College, maybe?"

I gave a non-committal hum, basking in the warmth of the hug, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes - behind the glass divide, I could faintly distinguish Tony's and Peter's shapes, still bent over that bench the pile of metal.

"You have a lot of potential," Banner continued, his tone developing a gently admonishing hint. "I understand if you want to take some time off from your studies but I'd rather you succeed and not let all that potential go to waste," He finished, patting me on the back with a gentle hand.

I tried not to preen under his touch. "Are you attempting to guilt-trip me over a party, doctor Banner?" I teased him, expecting the smile that I felt being hidden by my hair. Sometimes I felt that I could read the man like an open book, he was so earnest about his interactions.

"I just - we want you to stay safe, okay? Don't blow your future for a little bit of fun," He shrugged carefully.

"Okay, Bruce," I simply replied, meaning it this time

He kept hugging me, running his hand over my back absentmindedly. Probably thinking about his recent science bender. I wasn't upset: my own brain tended to get tangled in personal projects, too. I had only one complaint and it was that the cuddle was making me sleepy.

I yawned, startling the man. Pulling away from the hug wasn't really an option. He was broad and quite strong, probably courtesy of the Hulk and radiation in his blood.

"Why don't we put you in a guest room for tonight?" He inquired and I nodded. "Call your parents for me, okay?"

"My mother is in Vancouver for the week and I doubt she would care anyway," I rolled my eyes. "She's in the middle of some shitstorm with OsCorp and their marketing department." If anything, I was grateful my mother was preoccupied with her job. Being around her was like hanging out on top of an iceberg in the far end of the ocean.

I felt Bruce's frown. His body tensed briefly, blink and you'll miss the hunch of his shoulders. "What about your dad?"

I cringed. "He's been in Ibiza since the season opened, no doubt snorting miles of coke and... " I hesitated. "You can guess the rest."

My dad was kind of a dick, but I don't blame him at all for being the way he is. My parents have been married for twenty years. They were happy, once - I saw their college pictures with my mother's bright smiles and bushy hair, and my dad's terrible fashion sense and their dog, a funny little runt with an atrocious name. Then mother had me and for a while, they were happy too, but it lasted about until she landed her first prospective job. Kind of cliché.

Bruce sighed again. "Okay. You hungry?"

"No, I'm not going near food until tomorrow. Nu-uh," I fake-retched next to his ear, making Bruce shiver and playfully pinch my side.

"It'll help with your hangover. Doctor's advice."

"You're not even that kind of doctor," I laughed, very gently poking him back, somewhere around his stomach. He squirmed.

"I have seven PhDs," Bruce smiled as he rested his chin on top of my head as he adjusted his torso to prevent my fingers from reaching his ticklish spots. I poked him again in retaliation, fully enjoying the snort and squirm I caused. Soft™. "Let's go get you settled in," Bruce, seemingly without any difficulty, picked me up, propping me against his hip like a toddler. It probably looked awkward but what the hell, I haven't been carried around since I can remember myself. My legs wrapped around his hips for balance, butt resting on his forearm.

"You're a showoff," I couldn't help but snort, getting a lopsided smirk in return.

He made his way over to the elevator with me dangling and examining my nails in an expectant fashion. Tony's jokes aside, I really enjoyed getting them done and weird colors were a quest of entertainment for me. I obviously couldn't have them very long because I worked in a lab so I chose outrageous prints and decorations instead. This week, each of my nails had a different style - thankfully my aesthetician was professional enough to make it look somewhat put together even if it took a good chunk of my allowance and an hour long Uber ride to get to her salon.

I noticed the dimmed lights in Tony's lab and none of Peter's usual mess scattered on the tables, figuring he'd already left. Stark himself stood propped against a table, watching something, smoothie in hand.

For only a brief moment, I let my eyes rake over his body, his beautiful, sculpted physique hugged by a pair of fitted jeans and an old Led Zeppelin tee. Tony's handsomeness wasn't obvious, it wasn't in-your-face kind of appearance like Captain America's, but the engineer was built sturdy and his arms - the only bare part of him - were riddled with scars. He used his strong, bulky body for work.

I turned away before I got too ahead of myself. Bruce smelled like lab equipment and rubbing alcohol, something that made me sober up and snap out of my daydream before Stark took notice and started teasing me about ogling him. My once-over lasted barely three seconds yet with Tony's genius, I always had to be on my toes.

I saw movement in my peripheral. Banner waved before entering the elevator - at Tony, probably, so I looked back, seeing the man watching us, content replaced with a contemplating frown. I waved at him, resting my cheek on Bruce's shoulder. "Tony's having a big mood," I noted quietly in the scientist's ear.

"You know Tony," Bruce sighed, adjusting his hold on me as the car ascended to the housing floors. "His brain runs a mile a minute and he can't make sense of it for the biggest part. Give him some time and he'll be back to his annoying self."

I didn't see Tony as annoying in any way, but then again, I was severely biased. The billionaire was quirky venturing into absurd but also clever and brilliant.

We had reached our destination and Bruce carefully set me down on my feet once the door to my room was open. A large queen bed, TV and another door to an adjacent bathroom. It was really simple but luxurious nonetheless - I had the exact same carpet at home, having heard my mother bitch about it's cost after seeing me spill soda on it way too many times.

"I'll let you get settled in. Ask Friday if you need something," Bruce awkwardly shuffled his feet, taking off his glasses and briefly examining them before putting them back on again. "Breakfast here is on the 74th floor starting around 7AM, someone will probably get you around nine if you sleep in," He finished, giving a shy tilt of his lips.

"Thanks, Brucie-bear," The nickname easily slipped from my lips. I didn't resist the urge to hug the kind scientist, quickly wrapping my arms around his middle, delightfully sighing when he immediately returned the gesture.

"Good night, Princess," I had to suppress a happy squeak when the man kissed my forehead before retreating and closing the door behind himself. A quick shower and a quest to find a power outlet to plug my charger into preceded my less than graceful flop into the bed. It felt like sleeping on a cloud, honestly, it had nothing on my mother's orthopaedic memory foam mattresses. I passed out faster than I’d ever had.

#Bun writes #party favours #Tony Stark x y/n #Tony Stark x reader #Bruce Banner x reader #Bruce Banner x y/n #Stephen Strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #We're going to Hell y'all

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47-shades-of-hitman · 4 years ago

Text

Seven days of Valentine with Agent 47 | Day 7 | SFW

Day 7 - The joys of parenthood | SFW

Babies don’t care that it’s Valentine’s Day...

Warnings: None

Link to my Hitman-related Discord server

Your heart swelled with pride as you stood on the threshold of Victoria’s room, fondly smiling at the scene unfolding in front of you.

Agent 47 finished up changing your young daughter’s diaper, tickling her nose and belly in the process. Victoria smiled widely, wiggling around, keening in joy as her father leaned down and kissed her forehead and her chubby cheeks, murmuring some sweet words to her.

Biting your bottom lip, you pondered if you had ever felt as happy as right now, on this very moment, witnessing the two people who you held closest to your heart interact so delightfully.

47 pulled back from snuggling the baby and proceeded to fasten her romper before helping her into her pyjamas for the night. He picked her up and rested her against his chest, one hand gently under her butt, the other on the back of her head as he kept her close.

“All set now.” 47 announced, walking over to you. “Gonna say goodnight to mommy, babygirl?”

Vicky keened as she saw you, reaching out to be heaved over into your arms. Agent 47 leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek before going to throw out the dirty diaper, leaving you for a moment to cuddle with the baby.

“You’re so fresh and clean, aren’t you?” you mused, “You’re growing up so fast…” You kissed her face all over, making her smile.

Walking her over to her crib, you carefully laid her down, leaning down to cuddle her a bit more. Agent 47 reappeared at your side, putting a hand on your lower back.

It was a ritual you two had been performing for a few months now – bidding your daughter goodnight by peppering her in kisses before unavoidably having to withdraw yourselves from her room and deal with her cries and woes for being left alone.

It was always difficult, but you had to go through it. You just hoped that those cuddles beforehand were enough to make sure that she knew that you loved her, and that you’d be back in a few hours to breastfeed her.

Agent 47 nuzzled her for a bit, too, before coaxing you to step back and leave her to sleep. Victoria immediately began to fuss, on the verge of crying as you left her in her room, baby monitor on as well as a bed light and a music box.

You left the door open just slightly so you wouldn’t wake her upon peeking in later, sighing at the sound of Vicky starting to cry.

47 took your hand in his and guided you downstairs, knowing how difficult you found it to leave her alone.

“I know,” he told you, “I know.” Upon arriving in the living room you embraced him and laid your head against his chest in order to drown out her wails a little bit, even though the baby monitor was still on, echoing through the lounge as well.

47 slipped his fingers through your hair and kissed your forehead. “It will get better over time.” “I know.” you whispered. “In a few years, we might even be able to celebrate Valentine’s Day again the way we used to, as soon as she sleeps entire nights.”

An amused huff left him and he cupped your cheeks, tucking some strands of hair behind your ears fondly. “Who said that we cannot celebrate the way we were used to do right now? The fact that there’s a crying baby doesn’t change anything.”

You laughed lightly and leaned up to press a lingering kiss to his lips, Victoria’s cries finally decreasing a little. “Having a child changes a lot, actually.” you told him.

“Well, it doesn’t change the way I feel about being with you, (Y/n). If anything, it only increases the love I feel.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Oh, 47…” you murmured, “I love you so much.” “And I love you.”

You connected your mouth to his in a crushing kiss and felt his tongue soon slide over your bottom lip. You gladly allowed him entrance, your fingers soon reaching up to pop the first buttons of his shirt, gently tugging at his already loosened tie.

His hands slipped down to gently squeeze your ass and you let out a surprised sound, causing him to chuckle into the kiss. That cheeky action caused you to reach for his belt in turn, undoing it with practised ease, brushing over his semi-erect, covered cock through his slacks. 47 deeply hummed, pulling back to look at you.

“Two can play that game, (Y/n)…” “Hm?” you mused with feigned innocence, letting your index finger slip against the growing bulge, “What game?”

His hand was already half way up your shirt when you noticed that Victoria had stopped crying altogether.

Good, you thought, for you were yearning to have her father all to yourself for a bit. However, your anticipated pleasure was brief.

A shrill cry from upstairs pulled you out of your pleasant haze, and you reluctantly pulled away from 47’s embrace. It was unusually loud, and your maternal instincts told you that something was up.

“I’ll go.” you whispered, rushing towards the hall and up the stairs.

Switching on the lights introduced you to your crying daughter, covered in what seemed to be her own vomit. “Oh, baby…” you muttered, immediately going over to her crib to lift her out of it. She was as limp as a ragdoll and barely responded to you picking her up, still crying albeit a bit weaker than before.

“Is everything alright?” 47 quizzed behind you, and you shook your head, holding Victoria against you even though it wouldn’t leave your shirt unscathed. “It seems like she puked. Could it have been the food?”

47 walked over and put a gentle hand against her forehead. “She’s really warm. Could be the flu as well, but we can’t be sure. I’ll check out the porridge later, but let’s just clean this up first.”

“Could you change the covers on her bed? I’ll wash her up and put her in a clean pair of pyjamas.”

“Of course.” 47 responded, immediately getting to it. The babe in your arms had yet to stop weeping and the sound of your heartbeat lulled her somewhat, but you had to clean her up before she could sleep any further.

You went to the bathroom and let the shower run, lukewarm water cascading down. As carefully as you could – Victoria was still barely upholding – you stripped her of her clothes, tossing them into the sink to rinse out later.

“She’s barely got any strength.” you sighed, taking the showerhead in order to softly rinse your naked baby of the smelly, semi-translucent puke.

“She will be fine, don’t worry.” 47 assured you, heading for the sink to soak the sheets. You hummed in acknowledgement, soon finishing washing up the babe.

You dried her with a soft towel and were about to hold her against you, but 47 warned you right in time. “Sweetheart, your shirt.” you looked down and saw remnants of her throw-up. “Ah, of course.” 47 took her from you and she began to get a little fussy, but as soon as you had taken off your shirt, you were able to hold her against your bare skin, calming her instantly.

“Why don’t you go sit downstairs with her, (Y/n)? I’ll clean this all up and put some fresh sheets on her bed.” “Okay,” you said, because you realised that you had to feed her, especially after this situation.

You went downstairs and sat on the sofa, propping a cushion under your elbow so you could position your child comfortably against your breast, bearing it. Victoria was eager and began drinking soon enough. You rubbed at her cheek, concernedly gazing down at her whilst you heard 47 rummage upstairs.

“That makes you feel better.” you mused at her, “Getting sick happens to the best of us. Even daddy feels under the weather sometimes. Rarely, but he does.”

Vicky understood nothing of what you were telling her, but being close to her mother made her sleepy once again. Agent 47 entered the lounge, shirtless, for the crisp white overshirt he wore had been dirtied in the process of washing up as well.

“Everything is all set now.” he told you, “So as soon as she’s ready, I can bring her back upstairs.”

You nodded and smiled at him. “She seems to be feeling a little better. At least she’s thirsty.”

47 walked over to the two of you and sat down next to you, leaning over to look at Victoria happily drinking. “Mommy is taking such good care of you, isn’t she?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Your mommy is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

You blushed and looked at him, causing him to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Well, I wouldn’t be able to do all this if I didn’t have such an amazing husband by my side.”

“I suppose we complete each other. Your mommy completes me, Victoria. Thanks to her, I’m more human than I’ve ever been. She gives me a live I didn’t even consider living before I met her and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Vicky looked up at 47, as if she understood everything he was telling her. His words made your mind soar and you doubted anything could ever knock you off that pink cloud you were sitting on right now.

You gently dabbed a bib under Victoria’s mouth as she was done drinking. Her eyes fluttered shut even though she tried for them to remain open, but exhaustion took the better of her.

In all fairness, you were close to falling asleep yourself as well. Tiredly, you smiled at the baby dozing off in your arms, covering up your breast again with one hand. “She’s growing up so fast.”

“She is.” 47 said. “Shall I bring her to bed, then?” “Okay.” you said, handing him Victoria, but not before pressing another kiss to her forehead.

You remained on the sofa, listening to the sounds on the baby monitor of 47 putting his daughter back into her crib, whispering a few sweet words to her. That same feeling you had felt at the start of the evening surged through your body again.

“I guess something did change ever since we got a baby.” you said as 47 joined you downstairs again, his blue eyes beautifully shimmering as they found yours. “What is it?”

Putting a hand in front of your mouth to cover up your yawn, you stretched. “I feel like I could sleep like a baby right now. Taking care of a child is difficult.”

47 sat down next to you and smiled. “It is. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

You hummed, snuggling against him. “Agreed. I suppose we can continue what we started earlier at a later time, hm?”

An amused laugh left the hitman now wrapping his arms around you. “Tomorrow won’t be Valentine’s Day anymore.”

“Luckily it’s not necessary to be Valentine’s in order to have sex.”

A pleasant silence fell over you and you laid your head against 47’s chest, listening to his calm heartbeat.

“Carry me upstairs, too?” you whispered. He chuckled against the top of your head, kissing it. “

“Certainly, sweetheart. I’ll tuck you in, too.”

#David Bateson #agent 47 x reader #Agent 47 #reader insert #io interactive

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