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throneofsapphics · 6 months

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A rowaeling x reader where she's been mysteriously sick for months and is getting weaker and weaker and they can't spend much time with her because of their duties the one day she calls for them because she knows she's dying?! Like she dies in their arms?!🥺

Love your writing and sorry for any mistake English is not my first language🥰❤

no time left to waste

Rowaelin x Reader

Summary: you keep a deadly secret

Warnings: angst, death

A/N: thank you for the request! please don't apologize

They were busy, the Queen and King of Terrasen, for gods sake. You couldn’t bother them over a small stomach bug, something that would get better in time. The times you did get to see them, it wasn’t worth bothering them about - not when you have so little precious time together.

“What’s this?” Rowan asked, snatching a small empty bottle. Something you’d experimented with, some new herbs you found in the library that could’ve helped.

“A return,” you gave him a small smile. You do run an apothecary. Not really a medical center, you weren’t a healer but you could make small potions and tonics for people.

He sniffed it. “It’s different.”

“Trying something new,” you hedged.

“Is that safe?” Aelin asked from your couch.

You let out a low laugh, “I’ve been consulting healers over it.” You’d been referencing healing texts so far, but not the healers themselves. It was close enough to the truth they didn’t pick up on your lie. Your answer satisfied them and Rowan placed the bottle back down, tugging you over to sit next to Aelin instead. You fought your exhale of relief.

It was getting worse, even you could tell. The few friends you had did too - but you played it off as a small bug and settled on visiting them less. The further you pulled away … if anything happened, that would hurt them less, you tried to reason to yourself. After a few months, you finally visited a healer, a close friend of yours - swearing them to secrecy. Several times a week, she would drop by to check on you - Ella insisted she come visit you instead.

“It’s nothing contagious,” she’d said - to your relief. “We’ll keep monitoring your progress.” Grief shone in her eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell anyone?”

“I’m sure.” Your voice was more confident than you felt. Her mouth curved into a frown, and you grasped her hand - realizing how pale your skin had grown. “Please,” you didn’t need to explain what.

“Not without your permission.”

All of your strength was saved for their visits, putting on the best front you could.

“You’ve been busy,” Rowan remarked - a line of vials on your sink. You cursed yourself, you meant to clean or hide those earlier.

“Winter sickness is hitting early.”

August, normally it wouldn’t pick up until late September. He didn’t question it. You almost wished he would.

After they left, it settled into you that you likely wouldn’t see another solstice. Wouldn’t make it to your twenty second birthday. Tears streamed down your face and you debated calling them. Two weeks, they’d said - it would be another two weeks before you could see them again. So much could happen in that time. But, you’d dug your own hole and maybe ripping it off like a bandage would be better.

Ella came by the next day. “If,” you swallowed - fighting the tightness in your throat. “When,” her face fell. She knew the truth as much as you did. “It happens, tell them it was sudden. Please.”

“I can’t lie to them,” she whispered. It’s the truth - they’d pick out the lie no matter what.

You reached for a paper, and started writing. Tears still on your face, you sealed it. Ella took it wordlessly.

Aelin, just finishing a meeting - received an urgent summons. She rolled her eyes. Everyone seemed to be urgent today - everyone wanted a piece of them. The last week and a half had been grueling, and she and Rowan were looking forward to seeing you. She regretted not being able to visit more, but they did come by as much as they could justify without neglecting their duties.

A month or so ago, she’d brought up you moving in with them - but you’d denied her offer, explaining you needed your space for your business. Maybe she could ask again.

Rowan spoke quietly to the messenger. A slight panic, only one she would recognize, showed in his eyes as he turned to her. Y/n, her healer friend sent a message - she’s severely ill.

Aelin snatched the paper. Severely had been underlined - three times. The hell with the rest of the day, you had never called on them before. She’d leave Aedion to make an excuse for their absence.

You’d finally given the go ahead to Ella, and she rushed to find a messenger - a strongly worded letter in hand. She was panicking, regret rushing through her mind. Why had she let out convince her to keep it a secret? You’d been friends for longer than she could remember - childhood friends. Now, you were on the brink of death and there wasn’t a damned thing you could do about it. Torre healers would be too late - but she’d trained there, and knew there wasn’t anything else to be done. Still, she’d combed every text she could get her hands on over the last few months, consulted with all sorts of healers and nothing.

She held the door open and the Queen and King rushed her, her knees trembling slightly. The Queen rushed right to you, a faint smile on your lips as you laid out on the couch. She watched as she fell to her knees before you, hands gripping the sides of your face in panic.

“What happened?” The King asked her, and she told him everything - handing the letter over. He tossed it on the table, not reading it yet, and she slipped out to give you some space, and get herself out of the direct line of fire.

Rowan relayed what happened to her, not daring to speak any of it aloud. Days at the most, the healer had said. How had he not noticed? All of the experiments going on, how you grew weaker. You looked so small, so much tinier than he could remember. Your face had lost some color, eyes more hollow.

“Why?” he asked.

“I … you had too much going on.” She said, teeth digging into her bottom lip. He couldn’t find the words to reply.

Aelin started rushing out words, about bringing different healers over - places they could take you, but you held up a hand.

“We’ve tried everything.” Everything - over several months. Gods, it hurts. That you thought they would think their work and duties were more important than you. More important than spending time with you, being there for you through this. He should’ve known.

Aelin tried to argue with you, but he laid a hand on her shoulder. “I believe you.” He said - and relief flooded through you in a massive wave. Aelin glared at him, but he fixed her with a look; if we only have days, don’t waste them fighting. Aelin’s eyes widened. She was still upset - angry, might be for a while. Gods know he was, but he’d be angry later. Not now, that’s not the memories he wants you to have of them.

“I’m not immortal,” you said - and they both stiffened, “it would’ve happened eventually.”

Aelin only picked you up - wrapping one arm under your knees, the other around your back, and carried you off to your bed.

They spent all the hours left tucked into bed with you, holding you close - tears falling from all of you.

You knew exactly when it was happening, and the shuddering breaths tipped them off.

“No no no no,” Aelin chanted, running a hand over your head, “not yet, please”

Rowan was a silent and steady presence.

“It’s time,” you managed to croak out.

“I love you.” Aelin had never said the words before. Rowan repeated it. So did you.

It was a prayer and chant on the Queen’s lips, a deathbed declaration - leaving any regrets behind. Rowan ran gentle fingers through your head, Aelin brushed her hands over your cheeks.

You let your eyes close as you drifted off, a smile on your lips and your last words - three you’d wanted to say for years. Better late than never.

Two months later, Rowan and Aelin managed to open your letter. Rowan took extra care, cutting the seal as delicately as he could. He didn't want to damage it, to risk destroying anything of this last ... gift, you'd left behind for them.

I’m sorry. I insisted to keep it a secret.

I know you’re angry and hurt.

If I didn’t get to say it, I love you with everything in me.

The text grew shaky at the end - like writing this was difficult enough. She did, her handwriting and her scent lingered. He brought it to his face, breathing in you. Aelin laid her head on his shoulder.

#rowaelin x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x reader #throne of glass drabble #throne of glass imagine #I'm sorry

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lollytea · 2 years

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Okay I wanna write down a few thoughts on that part of the climax in Thanks to Them that has garnered some mixed opinions. Specifically Hunter’s possession and the subsequent death of Flapjack.

I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m defending this scene, as people are perfectly within their rights to be uncomfortable with it and criticize everything from its execution to its inclusion at all. Whether this whole thing was objectively a terrible writing decision for Hunter’s character, his arc, and the overall message it sends is....a discussion starter to say the least. Rather, what I wanna do is maybe try and dissect the reasons why these scenes might exist in the first place. From a writing perspective.

I’ve been thinking about it a lot, trying to figure out just what angle the crew was going for and I think I might have some vague idea. And I’ll admit, I think there’s something poignant in here somewhere. Maybe they fumbled the bag a bit and didn’t consider just how troubling some of these implications could be. Writing gets clunky sometimes. But that’s up to every individual viewer to draw their own conclusions. But personally, I don’t believe that these scenes were intended to be gratuitous. I don’t believe that they were added solely because the crew are sadists who enjoy wringing Hunter dry like an angsty dish cloth. As flawed as they may be, I think I can understand why they were written. Possibly.

So, I’m gonna try to give an objective look at the themes, storytelling and symbolism at play here and how all of that relates to Hunter’s overall character and the big climax of his story.

We’ll start with the very understandable hurt viewers felt when Hunter’s road to recovery was abruptly relapsed by Belos. The thing many people are vocalizing their feelings about is how the episode made sure to demonstrate just how happy Hunter was. That’s what devastated them the most. Hunter was in the process of healing, which hits close to home for many, making what Belos did to him all the more disturbing on a personal level.

However, every single one of us knew that Belos was alive before we watched the episode. Hunter did not. Hunter believed that Belos was dead and this was the only reason that he felt safe enough to make such progress in his recovery. So now matter what way you twist it, we all knew Hunter was set up to relapse the moment he realized Belos was in the Human Realm.

So what was the point of showing this sixteen year old abuse victim experiencing safety, warmth, happiness, confidence and self exploration just to cruelly rip it all away from him?

Put simply, to establish just how much Hunter now has to live for. Just how much Hunter has to fight for. His motivations for living and for fighting are sprinkled all throughout the episode. This boy has such a hopeful future laid out before him and he knows it. So when he finally gets his moment to tell Belos exactly what he wants for himself, you understand exactly where this passion and determination is coming from. It means something.

And then there’s the possession itself, which everything comes down to. We saw the leaks, we hated them, some of us talked ourselves into believing they were fake but we all kinda knew deep down. It was a very fun very terrible week. ANYWAY.

I think that Hunter’s arc would have felt incomplete if he didn’t get a final confrontation with Belos. That’s the popular opinion. However, many are also in the opinion that Hunter getting possessed was very unnecessary and violating and it should not have been done in the first place. And I’m not gonna argue with this view. It’s legit. But again, here’s what I believe the crew might have been going for with this.

The possession of Hunter’s body is a symbolic manifestation of everything Belos has always represented in his life. It’s a final culmination of all sixteen years under that man’s thumb and all the damage he’s done to Hunter’s body and psyche.

Ever since Separate Tides, Hunter has been Belos’ puppet. And honestly, though the specifics of the arrangement have shifted, this was still the case throughout Thanks To Them. Between Separate Tides and Hollow Mind, it’s pretty simple. Perfectly obedient Golden Guard who does everything his uncle tells him to do, without much say in the trajectory of his own life.

However, after Hollow Mind, Hunter was no longer that. But that didn’t mean the puppetry stopped entirely. He was a nervous wreck for the rest of the season. The mention of the Emperor’s name paralyzed him with fear. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t done directly. Belos still had an alarming amount of control over Hunter.

So long as he was alive, Hunter knew he wasn’t safe. And once Hunter starts to realize that he’s still out there, it becomes obvious that he will never fully recover until he’s certain Belos is dead.

Everything about the possession is an encapsulation of what Belos’ years of abuse and manipulation have been like to Hunter. How powerless he’s always felt. But this time, it isn’t done through words or threats of violence. It’s worse than that. It’s physically invasive. It’s desecration. It’s having his very self taken away from him and nothing is more sacred than a person’s autonomy. The weight of what’s happening to him is palpable.

This is the worst thing Belos has ever done to him.

But what does Hunter, the boy who spent his entire life petrified of this man, do about it?

He finds it in himself to rebel against it.

Because, though Belos’ abuse and the negative effects of his upbringing have always been such a crucial aspect of Hunter’s sense of personhood, it’s not all that defines him.

A long time ago Hunter was given orders from the Emperor to slay a selkidomus. Instead he passed the job off to somebody else because he didn’t want to do it.

Hunter self-sabotaged his own mission and allowed Luz to escape with the palismen he was ordered to recover.

Hunter studied wild magic against his uncle’s wishes.

Hunter went to Eclipse Lake even when he was told not to.

Hunter had a secret palismen named Flapjack.

Hunter assigned himself to the Hexside mission without getting Belos’ approval.

Hunter owned a secret scroll.

Hunter refused to roll over and die in the mindscape even when Belos decided that he was no longer useful.

Hunter has a rebellious heart. Had one from the very beginning. He was definitely in denial about it back then (Happily declaring just how much he loves “Authority! And rules!”) but it was there, clear as day.

But this is the moment where Hunter embraces that rebellious heart. And in doing so, he finds the willpower to regain control of his body. To Hunter, this moment is a reflection of everything he’s always wanted to do. To break free of Belos’ power. To speak his mind. To choose his own future. To choose himself.

And all that genuine joy we saw him experiencing earlier in the episode is what strengthens his resolve to grit out his final words to Belos.

Hunter releases years of pent up frustration that he was too brainwashed to ever let himself think about.

Hunter openly expresses desire after desire, fully aware that every single one of them will boil Belos’ blood.

Hunter outrights demands that he be allowed happiness.

He’s proving, not only to Belos, but to himself that you can hurt him, you can scare him, you can manipulate him, you can even possess him, but you will never own him. Nobody will ever own him.

So, yes, absolutely. There are valid criticisms to be had of the concept of Hunter being possessed. And it’s likely the writers didn’t really think a lot of the ramifications through.

But I believe the idea it’s trying to portray was how the intensity of that moment and how violating it was to Hunter further emphasized just how powerful Hunter’s final act of defiance was. It wasn’t just one last fight between the two of them, it was a visceral way of having Hunter confront everything Belos has ever put him through, allow his resentment to bubble over and finally understand that he has the right to reject who he was “supposed” to be, whether Belos likes it or not.

One thing that came from the possession scene that I believe is genuinely a good and healthy thing is that Hunter’s perspective of Belos has changed for the better.

This was the worst thing Belos could have possibly done to him. And Hunter did not only survive it but he was capable of resisting it. Something he’s never been able to do before. He has officially endured the worst Belos can inflict on him. So, with that in mind, Hunter has no reason left to be afraid of this man anymore. With this, all remaining control Belos had over him has been shattered.

I have to acknowledge that, though this experience was truly godawful, it did provide Hunter with the closure he needed. It was necessary to how he proceeds forward. With all that fear out of the picture, Hunter’s current feelings towards Belos consist of righteous fury and contempt. Which is cathartic to say the least, as Hunter’s hate can finally be directed at the person who hurt him, rather than himself. In the case of a victim struggling with their trauma, allowing themselves to be angry at their abuser can be a very therapeutic thing.

This is huge for Hunter. While many have expressed the opinion that the after effects of this moment will be detrimental to Hunter’s overall arc, I honestly think it’s a massive step in the journey to recovery. It’s not the nice peaceful part he experienced while in Camila’s house but not everything about an abuse victim’s healing process is pleasant. Sometimes it’s ugly. But progress is progress.

And then there’s the matter of Flapjack’s sacrifice which is a doozy of a subject.

Anyone who follows me is aware that I was very vocal in my belief that Flapjack would survive, because surely they wouldn’t take something so precious to Hunter away from him. Surely.

(Well I’m Stan and I was wrong, I’m singing the Stan Wrong Song, okay fuck you.)

But once that episode was over and the credits were rolling, I started to think about Flapjack as far back as his introduction in Hunting Palismen. And honestly, I feel like his death was planned from the start. The kind of friend who comes into your life, changes you for the better before inevitably having to say goodbye. But even if it’s temporary, that doesn’t make their presence in your life any less impactful.

While Flapjack had plenty of personality, he wasn’t so much a character with his own arc, as he was a tool in progressing Hunter’s. His role in the story was to guide a lost and lonely boy into the light and show him that he’s worthy of being loved.

And with Flapjack’s influence, Hunter let himself meet people who don’t make him feel worthless. He has never felt more loved in his life.

Flapjack officially imprinted on Hunter when the boy expressed a longing to figure out his own future. Flapjack decided that he would try to lead him in the right direction.

And in his final moments, Flapjack watched the boy he had been guiding adamantly proclaim everything he wanted his future to be. It was safe to assume he had figured it out.

Flapjack’s existence in Hunter’s life also represents the link to Caleb along with Hunter’s complicated “relationship” with this ghost of a man that he’ll never know. Caleb is not Hunter and Hunter will never be Caleb. However, they’ll always be connected by the strings of terrible, terrible destiny that Belos tied together. And though Hunter didn’t know it, Caleb lingered in his life in the form of the bird he left behind.

And in all that time where Hunter figuring out his own identity, Caleb’s bird was helping him along. It was when Hunter was finally certain exactly who he was (Not a witch hunting accomplice of Belos) that Caleb’s bird was ready to move on.

With all these ends tied up, Hunter did not need Flapjack anymore.

But Flapjack still had one more job left to do. And that was to make sure Hunter got to stay with the people who loved him and Hunter got his chance to experience the future he had decided for himself. Figuring it out is useless if it’s all a hopeless fantasy. Flapjack wanted it to be a reality.

It must have been a relief to the little bird’s heart that his witch had grown so much and he could leave knowing Hunter would be okay without him.

(There’s also the interpretation that Flapjack is an analogy for a service animal/disability aid. But that line about learning to carve could not set it up the future any clearer. Hunter will not be without a palisman forever.

Obviously, it might take him some time before he’s ready to begin again. But he will make a new palismen. As a boy who’s spent his entire arc learning how to let new loved ones into his life, it would make absolutely no sense whatsoever if he didn’t.)

Anyway, my biggest fear when I saw the leaks which showed Flapjack sacrificing himself for Hunter’s sake, was how much something like that could completely destroy all of Hunter’s healing progress. Because why wouldn’t it? He not only lost his best friend but Flapjack died to keep him alive. How could he possibly live with himself after something like that?

I think this is one of the main talking points over why people are upset about Flapjack’s death. How it’s going to effect Hunter. I’ve seen the belief that this devastating loss was detrimental to his recovery journey and it’s rendered all of the lighthearted scenes of enthusiasm and confidence from earlier in the special obsolete. But I honestly feel like it’s the exact opposite.

Hunter’s reaction to Flapjack’s death was different than I imagined it would be. And not in an objectively bad way. It’s quite telling of how far he’s come. Compare it to Hollow Mind where Hunter also experiences a traumatic loss which results in him having a complete meltdown. He cries, he hyperventilates, he runs blindly into the woods. It was borderline apocalyptic. And it’s completely understandable. At this point in life, Hunter lost what he believed to be his entire world.

After Flapjack’s sacrifice, the first thing Hunter did when he regained consciousness was smile, softly greet his remaining loved ones and ask if they were alright. It’s revealed seconds later that he already knew Flapjack was gone. But he still had it in him to smile. Because even in the devastating aftermath of losing the creature who changed his life and introduced him to real happiness, he’s relieved to know his friends and family are safe. He knows he’s not alone.

Flapjack was deeply important to Hunter. It’s impossible to even articulate just how much he adored that little bird. When he lost his former life, Flapjack was all he had.

However, by this point, Hunter’s life is flourishing with hobbies and interests and ambitions and friends and family and love. Flapjack was no longer everything Hunter had. And being surrounded by so many people who cared about him in his moment of grief is a powerful thing.

Hunter is quiet about Flapjack’s death. He’s weak, he’s exhausted, he’s utterly gutted. But there’s nothing that implies he blames himself. Judging by how he was aware of the sacrifice despite just waking up, I believe they did get one last goodbye via their mental link.

And I think this is why Hunter seems so accepting of what had just happened. Whatever Flapjack said to him, he had successfully made Hunter understand that this was just how it had to be and that it was not his fault. And with all the love and optimism Flapjack has instilled in him since they met, Hunter decided that what he needs to do now is try and lead the most fulfilling life he possibly can. He has to. This life had been a gift from Flapjack after all.

But as mentioned way up above, Hunter can never have the life he wants until Belos is permanently out of the picture. I think this is where his new lease of life comes from in the final moments of the special.

Hunter has changed significantly throughout this episode. While in his opening scene, he was completely clueless on how to comfort Luz properly because he equates the guilt she feels to his own and that link between their similar feelings sabotages any attempt at clarity on his part. His words of comfort were basically “If it helps, they’ll hate me more.”

But before he steps through the portal, Hunter has a new perspective on the self-loathing that has been corrupting both himself and the girl he now calls family. It was never them. It was Belos. It was always Belos. Hunter is able to tell Luz that it was never her fault because he finally understands that it was never his fault. And he’s telling her all of this because she’s important to him and she always will be.

Hunter still has Luz.

He then expresses his new motivation. To fight back. To regain control of his life. To get some justice for all the damage his abuser has done to him and so many others. To protect the world that he cares about.

Hunter still has Willow and Gus and Amity.

Hunter still has Camila and Vee.

Losing Flapjack did not kill Hunter’s fire. It did not render all of his prior growth in the Human Realm null and void. Hunter has experienced a loss and his grief is palpable but he still has so much left.

In fact, I think if Hunter hadn’t had these experiences, hadn’t built these relationships, hadn’t realized just how much life has to offer to him, he wouldn’t be taking such a defiant stance. He wouldn’t be the first one to march into the portal, taking Flapjack home, determined to end Belos once and for all. And he’s standing on a strong foundation of mourning, experience, wisdom, love and support.

I keep thinking about that very infamous line by Dana that was misinterpreted to Hell and back.

“Dana doesn’t like happy endings.”

That line never bothered me much, even when I didn’t know what the exact context actually was (Dana doesn’t like happily ever after.) Like, I watched the Owl House, I know the kind of stories Dana liked to tell. So, the way I always interpreted that opinion was the simple message that we can never have it all.

Life is tumultuous. There are ups. There are downs. There are gains. There are losses. And I feel like that’s an accurate summary of Hunter’s development throughout the special.

Hunter had been mistreated. He now has far more scars than he started out with. He lost Flapjack. These are all devastating blows to him physically and emotionally.

But please, don’t allow the suffering Hunter went through distract from all of his positive growth in this episode. Hunter spent months making happy memories. He strengthened his bonds with his friends. He now has somebody who genuinely loves him that he can call family. He’s discovered all these brand new hobbies and interests.

He likes who he is now.

That hasn’t changed. I promise you that it hasn’t changed.

And most importantly of all, Hunter is no longer ruled by fear of the man who hurt him. He is no longer under Belos’ control.

Hunter is grieving right now but he is not in ruins.

This is not rock bottom for him.

I feel that Hunter’s gains and losses were pretty evenly distributed throughout the episode. However, because of the attachment people have towards him, as a teenage abuse victim who’s steadily recovering, it’s easy to only see his losses. Because it hurts to see, it really does.

But I promise you all of those happy Hunter memories meant something too. Those are what’s him pushing forward right now.

Anyway, those are my two cents on that whole thing. Again, I don’t think these scenes are immune to criticism. However, I did want to take a moment to examine them a bit because I truly believe that there was a team of passionate writers attempting to create something profound with this.

I like to write myself and I understand that a lot of the time I miss the mark and don’t always execute the point I’m trying to make. So, at the very least, even if things aren’t handled perfectly, I’d like to try and dissect the message that they were attempting to send.

It’s absolutely fine if you don’t agree with a word of this. I understand that these scenes have hurt quite a lot of people. But thank you for reading. I appreciate it. 💕

#toh spoilers #tw abuse

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luverofralts · 15 days

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Arkhelios Adventures

Weeks had passed since Adam had last seen his boyfriend or visited the room where they'd been separated. So many times, Adam had walked down the hallway, intent on revisiting the room, only to chicken out at the last second. It was still too fresh to confront. No matter how much Adam wanted to be okay with what had happened, his brain just refused to move on.

But today was the day. Adam was going to go touch the crystal that he'd been working on when the incident happened. He wouldn't try to activate it or anything complex. Just touching it would be enough. Touching it would make the memories in his head go away permanently. It had to.

"Okay. You can do this. It's just a rock. It's just a room. Nothing bad will happen. Nothing bad will happen."

Adam took a hesitant step, but faltered. Entering the room would make it all real. It would mean that his life had changed, that Theo had been ripped away from him, that all the warnings adults had been throwing at him were real and could happen at any time. He could die at any time.

The doctors had told him repeatedly that he was lucky to be alive. Most people in his situation did die. The survival rate for what he'd been through was incredibly low. He was likely only alive because as Remy liked to point out, Theo had desperately tried to protect him from the demonic magic tearing through him. Adam never thought he'd hear his sister defend Theo and advocate for them to stay together. What she had seen that day must have been powerfully seared into her mind for her to be so adamant that Theo had done whatever he could to save him.

Adam wished that he could remember Theo helping him or anything else that might help him move on, but he couldn't recall much. Just the blinding pain and the feel of wings pass over his skin as he burned from the inside out.

Adam dropped to his knees, too overcome with fear to carry out his mission. He couldn't do it. It was too soon and he was too weak and the fear was too strong. What would happen now that Theo was gone? Could the crystal still be attuned to the nearly lethal energy it had absorbed weeks prior? What if he was injured again now that Theo wasn't around to help?

"Adam? Honey, are you alright? Have the headaches come back?"

Ewan Maricourt rushed to his son's side, only to be waved away by the teen. Truthfully, he'd been watching Adam from afar, waiting to see if his son was ready to confront what had happened. Seeing Adam try to enter the room had filled his father with hope that Adam was starting to heal emotionally from the accident. This set back didn't mean anything; the fact that Adam was willing to try was good enough for Ewan.

Adam sobbed, finally allowing his father to approach him. His pride didn't matter now that his brain was rebelling against doing the one thing Adam wanted it to. Who cared if anyone saw him crying with his dad? He couldn't even enter a stupid room.

"It's okay, you're safe," Ewan promised, pulling his son as close to him as he could. "You're doing so well and I couldn't be prouder of you. Things will change in time. You've got to give yourself both time and space to process your feelings. No one heals after just a couple of weeks. It takes time."

"Do...do you think I made a mistake dating Theo?" Adam asked, sobbing into his father's shirt. "I love him Dad, but-but"

"But you ignored the guidance of your elders," Ewan finished. "Us parents tell you things that you may not like, but they're usually from a place of experience. You'll understand it one day when you have children of your own. Do I like watching you disregard my advice and getting hurt in the process? Of course not, but I was once your age and I know, at least a little bit, how it feels to have young love. I'm not thrilled to hear how far your physical relationship with Theo has progressed or that you disregarded all warnings about blood magic and sex, but I understand. Your sister likes to tease me about my apparent inability to settle down with someone, but I was young once. I had boyfriends and girlfriends and one night stands. I dated people I thought I'd marry someday and lost them all. If you love this boy and you're meant to be together, then it will work out. I promised Evren that I would completely wipe this incident from my mind if Theo came back to us in control of himself and I intend to keep that promise. Granted, you won't be sharing a bedroom again in the future, but I will try my hardest to give Theo a second chance."

Adam's tears were slowing and Ewan slowly steered his son away from the crystal room.

"Of course, you don't have to keep dating him if you can't move past this. I support whatever decision you make. Take your time and rest, Adam. No one expects you to sort through all of this in an afternoon. Why don't you go to your room and take the afternoon off from class? You look tired."

Resting in the room he'd once shared with Theo seemed impossible. Theo's stuff was still there, as if he could come back at any minute. Evren had refused to pick up any of Theo's belongings despite Abe and Roman's wish to have them close to them while he was gone. Evren knew that the second Theo's things vanished, Edana would try to interfere and make it harder for Theo to return. Leaving his things in the room was a statement, one that declared that Theo would not be erased from the school. Theo was coming back to be reunited with his possessions, whether Edana liked it or not.

It was hard for Adam to concentrate in their shared room. Half of him wanted nothing more than for Theo to walk through that door right then, while the other half was afraid. The dull ache in his chest that had started the day Theo left was strongest in this room, surrounded by memories. It hurt to breathe with that ache weighing down his chest.

Adam closed his eyes, only to be startled when he opened them. Impossibly, another rip exposing the Void had opened, flashing maliciously in front of him.

"This isn't real. This isn't happening," Adam chanted to himself. "It's just a hallucination. If it was real, you could feel it. It's not real. It's not real."

Hallucinations were an unfortunate side effect of some of the medicinal potions he'd been prescribed to help him heal. It was yet another reason that Adam kept himself away from other people outside of class. There was always a chance that a hallucination could pop up at any time, exposing just how broken Adam had become.

"Hey, Adam. I've missed you."

To Adam's horror, an image of Theo appeared before him. Not Theo, but the Theo he last remembered seeing. A monster with golden eyes that were as piercing as they were haunting.

"No. No, you're not real. You're not Theo. Leave me alone."

The illusion shimmered slightly before it dissolved into a thousand pieces that disintegrated before Adam's eyes.

He may have been injured, but Adam still had his instincts. He knew how Theo felt in his arms, and no illusion could ever match that. The hallucinations were getting less frequent now that he had reduced the amount of potions he had to take. They weren't as strong as they had been when he'd first woken up after the incident. In those early days, Adam couldn't distinguish his mother from a nurse in the hospital and would frequently be found talking to someone only he could see. Edana had been livid at this and was sure to mention her feelings at every opportunity to staff. Remy told her twin that it was only through some smooth talking on their father's part that Edana had been allowed to stay.

Several people had asked about his connection to Theo, and Adam had lied to every one of them. It wasn't any of their business, even if they were treating him for a Theo related problem. If he closed his eyes and looked deep within himself, he could feel the familiar, but weak warmth of Theo's presence out there somewhere. It was too weak to glean anything about how Theo felt or where he was, but feeling the real Theo was helpful for identifying the hallucinations.

Eventually though, Theo would come back, and Adam needed to know how he felt about that before Theo walked in the front door.

Adam sighed heavily and climbed into his bed, trying to ignore the world around him. That was a problem for the future. For now, Adam was going to try to sleep, hoping that when he woke up, he'd be a step closer to figuring out what he was going to do about his boyfriend.

#sims 2 #arkhelios #adam darktide #ewan g maricourt #arkhelios adventures

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bapydemonprincess · 1 year

Note

Maybe, “sometimes we wear masks for so long, to hide what we truly feel, that those layers become an extra skin.” for Bardlau? 💛🖤

“Sometimes, we wear masks for so long, to hide what we truly feel, that those layers become extra skin,” The Chinese man was carefully telling the Yank, as the other man had clearly been going through a rough patch.

Once again not sleeping an ounce.

Once again not eating a crumb.

Once again avoiding everyone and keeping to himself, even through out the day though he’d still had to do daily tasks as a servant.

He was also currently puffing away frantically at a smoke, and clearly had been smoking a few more than he should in one sitting.

“It’s better this way..” Bard had gruffly responded, not even looking at the other man attempting to help him.

Just staring into space.

A lingering silence followed..

It was clear as the silence carried on with no follow up what-so-ever, Bardroy had meant that was that.

It was simply better that way.

The only alternative was non-negotiable.

....

Likely because before Bardroy had settled into choosing to mask these kinds of emotions, he’d gone through unexplainable agony.. anguish... sadness.

And he never ever wanted that again.

...

Slowly nodding finally, Lau reached over and patted the man’s tense and firm shoulder.

He wouldn’t argue. He wouldn’t try to barter.

He would never try to change or fix Bardroy.

He’d let him be however he wished to be.. for as long as he wanted.

This show of understanding was a powerful tool; a stepping stone.

That lead to progression- maybe not in Bardroy’s mental circumstance -but in the Chinese man and the Yank’s relationship to each other as a whole.

To a point where Lau was allowed to touch the taller, gruffer man more. To fully wrap him up in his lean arms. To pull him close.

There was no problem in Lau being much smaller than the other man, for despite a big difference in size, his body’s comforting contact was somehow.. perfect to Bard.

Good enough to cling too eventually, with big calloused but shaking hands.

Tough enough to hold onto the bigger man, as if for Lau’s dear life, and for hours and hours...

Until the sun came back.

And the birds started singing again.

This became a perfect hobby, a good change of pace.

An understanding agreement.

A new, unique layer to the mask the former American soldier wore.

But... Bardroy wasn’t the only one wearing a mask... He wasn’t the only one with “extra skin”...

An attack was made on Lau’s establishment.

A gang made up of wretched, angry, racist British men came trying to terrorize the Chinese district, thinking it would go down so perfectly.

Especially when they had bombs and the newest efficient firearms on the market.

They were still a small group, though, and mostly were taken out over the course of the attack.

There may not have been such rough customers like this in a long time, but Lau had always, always been prepared just in case.

With not only his employees, the lovely ladies of his den, who were all trained not only in serving but in fighting, but as well as of course the hired body guards too.

...

Except...

Ran Mao came back to him with a ... bullet lodged in her gut...

Proving that indeed the firearms were certainly becoming a bit of a problem now...

They were able to get the bullet out, thankfully, but..

Ran Mao had been wounded.

She had to rest. For the wound to heal and close. For her body to be able to move and function properly again not only from the damage but from the blood loss.

She certainly didn’t like the prospect.

But when she was finally too drained to put up a fight, and basically passed out from sheer exhaustion from fighting against it for so long..

Lau..

Sebastian shoved a letter into Bardroy’s hands one afternoon, looking mildly annoyed as if this letter was a segue into a big accident the American had caused unknowingly.

The American blinked, ripped open the envelope, and quickly looked it over.

Master Chef

It is in your best interest not to meet with Lau until further notice. He is not seeing any client at this time. Not accepting guests or invites either. Please understand this is a personal issue. You will hear back at some point in the future. Thank you.

It was unsigned.

Bardroy looked up, and met the expected gaze of the butler.

Who only lifted one of those thin black eyebrows of his as if to say “Well? What are you going to do?”

Bardroy took out his lighter and set the paper on fire.

And as soon as it was ashes he went shooting off like a bullet, into action.

Not even bothering to change or go grab perhaps a horse to speed things up, he’d raced off, out into the forest surrounding the manor.

Clearly in a mindset to reach the Chinese man his own way.

Hours later Lau’s den was filled with shrieks of ladies and men alike, as someone came barreling through, like a human shaped battering ram, and not a single person could grab him.

“LAU, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YA! COME OUT, Y’DAFT FUCK, THINKIN’ YA CAN SEND A FUCKIN’ LETTER T’ME AN’ KEEP ME AWAY, WHO THE FUCK DO YOU-”

“Sir, in here!” One girl squeak out, smartly trying to help the American and recognizing who he was.

She frantically ushered him to a particular back room, which actually did not smell at all like the rest of the famed opium den..

There was still something unique in the air, a scent of some kind perfumey incense that burned in the corner.. somehow warding off anything else in this closed off room.

Oh, and there was also Ran Mao on a bed on the floor.

And Lau lying down on the floor against her.

Clinging to her.

Bardroy shifted in place, all anger and outrage vanishing like smoke suddenly.. Or like he’d just started awake from a black out, as he stared at the view in front of him.

“...Oi, Lau...” He uttered softly, confusion dripping from just those first two words, “I uh, I guess I... um..”

Lau suddenly turned his head, looking over his shoulder at the man he knew so well, suddenly in his private quarters..

Like a stranger.

Even if Bard could only see the one eye from that angle, staring at him and shimmering in the dim lighting, and not blinking or not half open or completely closed for once..

He had a feeling..

Lau was not welcoming him in.

“I.. know there was some kinda.. struggle, but.. That was.. a month ago, eh? Yeah.. Uh... I.. I guess Ran M-Mao must... must’ve taken a.. “

“One. Bullet.”

Bardroy soaked in those two words, coming from the other in a tone that.. He’d never heard from him.

Lau sounded.. almost.. Hysterical..

Like this one fact of “one bullet” had driven him a tiny bit.. over the edge.

“One. Bullet. Bardroy. One.. one bullet of one of those new fancy firearms.. was.. was all it took.. Was all that was needed to tear through the body of...”

His words broke up, specifically his English, and the rest was in Chinese that the yank certainly did not recognize, and even just the tone alone had Bardroy feeling..

A familiar urge to either flee or ..

He dropped to his knees before the curled up man facing away from him.

He reached out.

A hand came out and a sharp dagger was inches from Bard’s face.

Lau was sitting up now, body still half twisted away in the direction of the bed, but he hand one arm holding him up, as the other arm had not wasted any time in flinging around to dive for the other man’s approaching visage.

But.

Bard had grabbed that fast hand with both of his.

He stared at the blade inches from his eyes and nose.

And then at the man along the arm, the face of Lau with eyes both open, golden brown and shining with water.

Red tinged the white of the eyes.

Eyelids shadowed and ragged.

Lined clear as day on a forehead and cheeks.

Red starting to gradually creep into those high cheeks too.

“Lau...” Bardroy breathed, staring into those eyes. Concentrating on not only the hand in his clutches still (but now shaking violently), but the rest of the figure before him..

This... shadow of a figure.

“Again... it’s only been a month... She’ll be fine, Lau. She’ll survive.”

“BUT SHE WAS REDUCED TO THIS.. ONE BULLET AND.. AND NOW--”

“Lau... She’ll adapt. I don’ even know ‘er that good, but I can tell she will. She’ll be--”

“BUT I LET THIS HAPPEN TO HER, BARD--”

“LAU. YOU HAD NO CONTROL OVER WHAT THE FUCK COULDA HAPPENED TO--”

“I COULD HAVE KEPT HER FROM GOING OUT, I COULD HA--”

Ran Mao’s leg suddenly lifted from the blanket and rose up, only for her foot to come down and bonk her wailing older brother in the head.

“Shut up.” She uttered in a tone that implied she was still half asleep and her face was still half nestled in the pillow.

But she’d had enough of these two going on right next to her bed.

Bard let go of Lau’s hand and Lau promptly dropped the blade.

His other hand was on his face now, rubbing at his eyes.

Bardroy sighed as he watched the other man.. just watched this man he’d known for over a few years crumple right before him.

Even now when it was plain that Ran Mao was indeed fine, still recovering from her wound, but she would be just fine!

But Lau...

The fact remained in his mind..

That she had gotten shot.

And to him:

He’d let her get shot.

And now this was how he was dealing with it.

Bardroy.. looked in space as he recalled the past though...

How Lau would laugh off situations and catastrophes..

Or act like had had no clue what had happened.

Or at the last minute come through with a quick delivery of violence, unexpected and swift to attack.

But in this situation...

That.. mask of his.. it... hadn’t been able to stay up.

It hadn’t been able to withstand the reality of what had happened..

To the one human being Lau truly cared the most for.

He couldn’t laugh and act confused like he didn’t know what was going on.

He couldn’t fix it with killing anyone or destroying anything.

There was nothing he COULD do.

...

This was all to familiar to the other man.

The man that Lau himself had stated wore a “mask” that became layers of skin..

...

Bardroy once again reached out..

Gently he touched the man’s lurching shoulder, and waited for the man to look up again, as he’d still been covering his face as the minutes ticked by..

Bardroy in this moment tried to.. mirror a look he himself had been given.

A look of understanding.

A look of care.

A look that expressed that he would not try to change or fix Lau.

Whatever had made the man like this, in his past, Bard knew and expressed he had no right to try changing.

But Bard would be there for him.

Like Lau had been there for him.

A crack in their masks...

But they stayed together despite it.

#kuroshitsuji #Bardroy #Bard #Lau #Ran Mao #Bardlau #drabble #my writing #grelleswife #Thank you so much for this request friend I hope you like it I kinda feel I went on too far but uhhhh #OH WELL #🙈🙈🙈

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secretlywritingstories · 2 years

Text

“But did we actually make it? Will we ever?” | Stranger Things one shot

Summary: “I have this terrible gnawing feeling that it might not work out for us this time.” Steve was really worried Robin had been right. Had they won? Had it worked out? It didn't feel like that, not with Max in a coma, Eddie dead and creepy dust falling over Hawkins.

Tags: Post season 4, canon compliant, introspection, grief, coming out, bi!Steve, Steve and Robin’s friendship, scars, found family

Word count: 3.5k

Read on AO3 or below

Steve felt numb to it all. The world around them seemed to be actually disintegrating. Grey dust falling from the air, and a blanket of rot rolling out over Hawkins. It wasn’t fair. They’d defeated Vecna, Henry, One or whatever they’d decided was his name in the end. It hadn’t really mattered. Steve had been standing between Nancy and Robin and seen the damn creature to go up into flames. And yet…

The punches just kept coming. It was like this every time. They thought that they made it. They thought that they finally fixed it. They thought that once more the little town or Hawkins – and the world – would be safe from the terrifying upside-down world.

Some days, Steve still thought that all of this was a big prolonged fever dream and he was still a teenager, the same shitty boyfriend he’d been to Nancy in junior year. He still couldn’t quite believe that he had been dragged into this whole mess.

He knew a kid with powers to create an actual rip in the very fabric of the universe.

He was one of the oldest of their group and he’d taken on the role of damn babysitter but he was still just a big kid himself. He felt like he’d been forced to grow up too quickly. It made him feel like he was too big for his body sometimes, like he couldn’t quite rest within it anymore.

He’d watched the slow raining dust with everyone else in the gym. They’d convened with Dustin and walkie-talked the others staying at the old Byers house and they had seen the same thing. No one knew what it meant or where to start figuring it out, but it was clear that it wasn’t a good thing.

Nothing was good anymore.

It seemed to have vanished.

“Why you hiding out here?” Robin asked, rounding the corner and finding Steve leaning against the back wall of the gym.

“I’m not hiding,” he said, “I’m getting some fresh air.”

“Right,” she said with a deadpan expression. “Fresh air.”

She gestured at the sky above them. The floating dust wasn’t too bad yet. And Steve had survived being in the upside-down. If he was going to get lung damage it would be from that. Time would tell. One thing was for sure. He never wanted to smoke ever again.

“If it’s toxic, we’re all fucked anyway,” Steve said and leaned his head back against the wall. He might have smacked into it a little too hard, just to feel the something. Pain was kind of grounding; he’d found upon the many times over the last couple of years that he’d been beaten to a pulp.

Getting hurt didn’t even feel like a problem anymore. It was the healing that sucked. Hurt came in an instance, a flash and then it was over. Healing was gruellingly long and painful.

“How nice,” Robin said, trying to come off as teasing but there was an edge of worry in her voice that she wasn’t hiding well.

Steve wasn’t sure if he could handle a heart to heart right now. However, if it had to be with anybody, he was glad it was Robin. There wasn’t much good left in the world but he was happy he still had Robin.

“I saw you with Vickie,” he said, changing the topic to delay the inevitable. “Making progress, huh?”

“Yeah,” Robin said and for a moment her concern melted away to show a smile instead. A timid but genuine smile that made Steve feel warm all the way out to his fingertips. He’d tried to advocate for her to shoot her shot for weeks and it seemed that she was finally walking down that path.

Good for her. He really was happy about that.

“I was right then, wasn’t I? She likes boobies,” he said, flashing a smug smile.

Robin rolled her eyes at him. “You might have been,” she admitted reluctantly. “We’ll see how it goes. It’s never… it’s never going to be easy for me, Steve. I’ll always have to walk on eggshells around people that I like.”

She moved to lean against the wall with him, propping herself up with one leg and winding her arms around her torso. Robin was beautiful, funny and kind. She was also weird and unafraid to be herself around people she trusted. Steve was happy to be one of them. He’d been slightly sad when she’d rejected him but now, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Maybe, it’ll get easier,” he said, trying to stay optimistic but it was difficult. “Shit, I hope it all gets easier.”

“Me too,” Robin echoed. “We need wins.”

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? It seemed like they had won this round. It hadn’t been without terrible loss and consequences but most of them had made it out alright. They had stopped Vecna and Eleven had her powers back. It should count as a win.

Steve thought of Max in her hospital bed, limbs broken and in a coma. That didn’t feel like a win. He wasn’t even sure what had happened while she was in her head but he’d gathered that Eleven had done something to stop her from dying. But had she really? Could you stop death? What if she’d never fully wake up?

Then there was Eddie. Steve hadn’t even liked him that much to begin with. He’d been a weird kid in school and they had moved in different circles. And then he’d taken Steve’s kids under his wing and he might have been a little jealous of that. Eddie spoke those boys’ language in a way that Steve had never been able to do. He felt guilty about that now.

Dustin had come back traumatized and said that Eddie had been lost. He hadn’t been able to talk about it much, but Steve could tell that it had been bloody and that Dustin had seen every bit of it. Now Dustin carried the guilt around like a clutch, as he hobbled on his hurt leg.

Steve had just begun to like Eddie and then he’d died. Eddie had finally stopped running away and then he’d died trying to help and protect them all. It wasn’t fair.

“Robin, do you remember what you told me when we were making molotovs out by the mobile home?”

“I’m sure I said many things,” Robin said with a scoff but fondly. “You know I can talk a mile a minute, even more when I’m nervous. I was nervous, then terrified. I wasn’t sure we were going to make it.”

“That’s what you said,” Steve said. “You said you had a gnawing feeling that we might not make it this time. I asked you if we should be doing this.”

“Right, and I said we were batshit crazy,” Robin said, remembering. “What? Why are you thinking of that now?”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing them tight.

“I just wonder. But did we actually make it? Will we ever?"

Robin let out a hollow laugh. Steve opened his eyes and took a look at the contemplative expression he had put on his friend’s face.

“It doesn’t feel like it, does it?” she agreed. “It feels like the end of the world is coming and this is only the beginning.”

This probably wasn’t healthy but maybe, they could go down this spiral just for a bit. It felt safer than doing it on his own.

“It does,” Steve agreed. “And I just… how many are people are we going to lose? Sure, we got Hopper back, and I’m thrilled he’s okay but that’s the exception. Most people stay gone. They leave so much grief and hurt in their wake. Like Eddie.”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah. I just… back inside the gym, I saw Eddie’s uncle, going up to change the missing poster of Eddie that had been defaced and drawn all over. Dustin saw too and he wobbled up to him. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but it’s not hard to guess. The old man burst out crying and Dustin looked like he was going to kneel over. That’s all there seem to be right now. Grief. Heck, even I grieve the dude and I knew him for less than a week while he was a fugitive! And he was weird!”

Steve’s voice came out a bit hysterical and he wasn’t sure why he was fixating on Eddie of all people, but he couldn’t help it. It might have something to do with grieving some sort of potential that it felt as if Eddie had unlocked inside of him and then he was gone before they could ever explore it.

“I’m weird. You like weird,” Robin commented, hand gently touching Steve’s arm.

“I know,” Steve said, almost in defeat. “And that’s sick, isn’t it? Having some sort of gay revelation about a guy in the middle of the world ending and for him to die only days later.”

Robin’s eyes went wide. Wider than Steve had ever seen them and he realized what he’d said. He hadn’t even meant to say it, he wasn’t even sure it was true. The words had just slipped out.

It was a dangerous thing to say out loud. It would earn him more beatings. Maybe that was what he craved. Blood spilling and flesh tearing to make him feel alive. It would feel like an easier pain to handle than whatever was going on inside of his chest.

“Steve,” Robin said, voice softer and quieter than ever before. “You liked Eddie?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, digging his hands into his hair. He knew it looked as messed up as he felt. “I wasn’t sure but it felt like maybe I could have, you know?”

It felt like too much, something too big in his chest. He knew he was safe with Robin. She was the best person to spill his guts to about this thing that had weighed heavier on his heart than he realized. Still, he’d never considered how naked and vulnerable saying something like this out loud would make him feel.

He was thrown back into that toilet stall, sitting on the floor with her, when she told him that she liked girls. How terrified she must have been at his reaction since he’d just confessed to liking her. She was much braver than he was.

“You have terrible taste,” she said, shoving his shoulder. “He’d have made you play D&D, which you hate, because you don’t understand it.”

“Hey! I understand it!” Steve protested, a wave of relief flooding through his system. “And I do not have terrible taste. You can hound me for the babes from Family Video sure, but other than that, I have impeccable taste. I loved Nancy, I liked you,” he reminded her. “So, I do have some taste in women! And… Eddie was something. Bright. Unexpected.”

Robin was smiling, kind of crooked and excited. She was looking like she was happy for him, even as he was confessing maybe liking a guy who’d died. “And here I thought you were pining for your ex this whole time.”

“I mean, I was… I am? I still feel something for her, but I don’t know. Eddie caught me off guard,” Steve said, unsure how to even explain it.

It didn’t seem like he needed to. Robin gave him a look, one that was stripped away of their usual teasing and just pure sincerity. Steve was already opening his arms before Robin burrowed into his chest, holding him tight and squeezing him until it hurt. The wounds on his side burned at the touch. Even though the pain, he let out a relieved breath and hugged her back.

“I’m not like fully gay or whatever, I just… I don’t know,” Steve felt compelled to say.

“You can like both,” Robin told him, voice gentle as she gave him another squeeze and this time, he couldn’t hold back a hiss as she got her elbow almost digging directly into one of the cuts under his shirt.

She instantly jumped back, releasing him and watching him with cautious eyes. She was going to figure it out and Steve knew he couldn’t stop her but he still had to try.

“Robin, it’s nothing, I-”

“Shit! Your wounds,” she said and then she didn’t even wait before she was trying to lift up his shirt to see.

Steve tried to dodge and move away. “Hey, hey, you should not be undressing men in public, think of your reputation!”

“Everyone already thinks that we’re dating. You’re practically my beard,” Robin said and then stopped just when she’d gotten her hands around the bottom of Steve’s shirt. “Or I guess not now. We can be each other’s beards.”

“I don’t even know that that means. Robin, stop,” Steve tried to protest but she was slippery and not afraid of using dirty tricks and Steve found himself with his shirt pulled up to his armpits.

He stopped trying to get away, letting out a sigh and letting himself lean back against the wall she’d corned him against. She’d seen the wounds be made after all. Her, Nancy and Eddie had all been there. He thought he was going to die. Not the first time, and probably not the last, but he felt like that the demon bats had been a particularly close call.

He shivered, remembering the horrifying sensation of them biting into his flesh and the terror in thinking they’d rip open his stomach and devour his intestine, while he was still breathing and alive to feel the whole thing.

“Do you think you have rabies?” Robin asked, eyes not leaving the wounds.

Steve had looked at them just this morning when he’d removed the bandages to give them a chance to breathe. They were healing, closing up and turning pink. It was uncomfortable and they were itchy but the skin was dutifully knitting itself back together. In time it would harden and scab over.

But the wounds had been deep. He would have indents where they had taken chunks out of him, even if the skin over it healed. If he ever managed to get anyone into his bed again, they’d be horrified to see these.

“I won’t get rabies,” Steve said. “I don’t think the upside-down works like up here. Might catch something else, but not rabies. And it’s healing fine, see?”

He had meant to reassure Robin but she did not look reassured in the least.

“I can’t believe I forgot you got hurt. Just so much happened,” she said, guilt in her voice.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Steve said, reaching out to grab Robin’s wrist. Her hands were shaking. Steve’s shirt mostly fell back down and covered his scarred abdomen.

He didn’t want to tell her that he preferred if everyone forgot about these wounds. He was certainly trying not to think about it. Even more so, because he imagined that Eddie had going through the nightmare of being eaten alive instead.

Steve had been saved while Max had been scarified and Eddie had been killed.

“Scars are cool,” Robin said, determination in her voice like she was trying to convince herself rather than Steve. “Makes you look rugged handsome.”

She was clearly grasping at straws and trying to make him feel better and surprisingly it was working.

“Yeah?” he asked, touched at her effort.

“Totally,” she nodded, doubling down, sniffling but not acknowledging it. “You’re going to be beating girls and guys away with a stick.”

Steve released Robin’s wrists and shook his head fondly while chuckling.

“If you say so.”

They lapsed into silence again, leaning back against the wall of the gym. They should go meet up with the rest of the crew. There must be a game plan underway for this dust and the rotting. It was Steve’s responsibility to look after those kids, even if they weren’t quite children anymore.

He thought about what he’d told Nancy when they were driving the mobile home. Of his dream of a big happy family. He had meant it. It had been his dream since he was a little kid to be able to raise a big family and to be the good father that he’d never had himself. He had been caught in the perception that was the one way to have a family.

A wife and half a dozen kids.

He looked at Robin now. The best friend he could never have imagined having. He had never quite had a friendship like this before. It had always been a group of people loosely connected and back in high school with his King Steve bullshit, it had been more like having followers than friends. The kids had helped. His friendship with Dustin had helped immensely, even though he’d never admit it to his face. He liked that he was back on good terms with Nancy again too, and he was trying to figure out why he still felt a pull towards her.

In the wake of all that happened, it felt more like it was because he didn’t know where else to put his romantic interest. His attempts at dating random babes had spectacularly failed. Crashed and burned while Robin had laughed on the sidelines.

That had been the most fun part. To come back to Family Video and talk to Robin about the failed dates, so they could laugh together.

He cared about the other kids too. Lucas. Mike. Will. Eleven. Max. He might have resented Jonathan a bit for stealing his girl but he was also long past that now. He was a good guy, and an even better brother to Will.

Steve had never had siblings. He’d never had a family that cared for him like that. But he realized that he kind of had that now. He had friends that were like family, not bound to him by blood but bound to him by choice.

Maybe that mattered much more. Who cared about who he might date as long as he had people who cared about him? He’d been told to want the big family and he’d grown up thinking that it was the only way he could get the big family he wanted. He’d been wrong. He already had a big family. It just didn’t look like young Steve thought it would.

“Can you imagine going into Family Video on Monday?” Robin asked, pulling Steve from his thoughts. “It just… working our minimum wage jobs, while the world is ending. Are we supposed to just continue like nothing happened?”

“We did before. After Scoops Ahoy,” Steve reminded her. “And even with the world ending, we need money.”

“A cruel, cruel world,” Robin said.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, but then he thought about all the people around him that he considered family now. Maybe, it was just all the trauma binding them together but you couldn’t change what happened. Unless Eleven had somehow managed to figure out time travel during her mysterious training.

He wanted to spare everyone all the hurt but he also didn’t want to go back to being the person he was before it all happened. He’d been a douchebag. It was so easy to see now looking back at his past but he hadn’t thought so at the time. He’d thought he was on top of the world. He’d felt charming and wanted. It had been addicting and he wasn’t sure he would have snapped out of it as quickly if it hadn’t been for the wake-up call from Nancy, Dustin and the rest of the kids.

“But it’s also… not,” Steve found himself saying.

“Huh?”

“The world is cruel,” he repeated her words, “but there’s also love. And hope. A will to fight. Not once during the last week did any of us hesitate to step up and help. No one ran away in the end. It cost us dearly but it is still a confirmation the world can’t be all bad. We’re proof of it.”

“That was almost wise, Steve,” Robin said, tone joking but her eyes looked touched.

“What can I say? I have my moments,” he said, matching her joking tone.

“Yeah, you do,” Robin said, joking tone falling away and affection seeping into it instead.

She looked at him like he was a dumbass and he knew that she loved him anyway. It made his chest feel warm and he thought that maybe he’d be okay. If he had his friends, then maybe he might just make it. A hope in a cruel world.

The fight was far from over. They could all feel it. More was coming. It was going to be horrible once more but maybe this fight could be the last. Maybe, there would be an end at last.

“We should go find the group. See what the plan is,” Steve said, pushing himself off the wall. Robin nodded in agreement and followed.

Steve didn’t know much but he knew he would fight tooth and nail to protect his friends. His family. He’d found them and now he was going to protect them. Whatever the cost.

#stranger things fic #steve harrington #robin buckley #my stories

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affcgato-archived · 2 years

Text

@noblehcart (inej): " sorry; this might sting a little... " || meme. (accepting)

he wants to flinch, perhaps violently rip his face away from the clever & careful fingers that have taken hold of it & put as much distance between himself & those hands as physically possible & at the same time he wants to bask in them & let them weave whatever care into his touch-starved skin they offer. he wants to think about neither option too deeply, as well, but it seems anything he desires isn’t really up for consideration. they’ve come a long way from the bathroom of the Geldrenner & this isn’t the first exchange they’ve had. his hand still feels the ghost of hers within its grasp & yearns for it after all, but his FACE--

‘ careful, ’ he finally grits out, realizing he may yet need to shrink from this contact even still. ‘ I’d rather the sting than the alternative. ’ his stomach rolls dangerously & he feels the sweat start to prick his skin, but he doesn’t move. he’s allowed to feel these things - he’s stopped making himself hide that, & somehow that had given the shame no dominion to claim him. these are just... aftershocks, still rippling through his skin in memory of what this touch reminds him of. he’s still so much a work in progress, but he’d like to think he’s at least progressed some.

‘ how bad does it look, then? ’ it will scar, but it’s just one reminder of things he’s survived, & this one will carry the added weight of the progression of his healing. he might feel shakier under her hands than a Razorgulls’ knife, but there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

#noblehcart #→ kaz brekker // my servant & my lever (v.)#→ kaz brekker // threads #→ interactions #→ answered ask #q.

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uraveragelonelygay · 3 years

Text

Another Love

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!reader

Summary: You meet Wanda at a grief group, as she’s struggling to heal after Vision’s death. Will you help her heal? Will your friendship grow into something more?

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: grief

Theme: Angst, Fluff

A/N: I have been working on this one all day, and I think it’s alright! It’s my first oneshot on this account, so please go easy on me! I hope you enjoy!

(Shoutout to @theloveclub-18 for the idea! I super appreciate it!)

“Thank you all for being so open this evening. I hope to see you all next week. Let the healing continue.”

As various people mumbled back “let the healing continue,” Wanda fought the urge to roll her eyes.

It had been six months since Vision’s death, and four months since she had started attending a grief group recommended by Bucky. She had tried to insist to him that it was useless but he begged her to try it out. Now, here she was, four months later, still feeling as broken as she had the day she watched the love of her life be killed. Twice. One might ask why she continued to attend the sessions weekly when she felt she hadn’t made any progress. Why had she spent 16 of her Wednesday nights at a grief group when she felt it was pointless? The answer is simple: the food.

The session always had a table full of freshly baked goods from Sugar, Butter, Flour, a bakery just down the road from the community center holding the sessions. Every week, Wanda would sit through listening to people talk about their heartbreak, and, when pushed to confront her own trauma, reluctantly share just enough to satisfy the facilitator. And she did it all just to have a few moments of sheer joy, letting whatever delicious creation the bakery had provided that week wash over her taste buds and temporarily take her away from this cruel world that had ripped her love from her.

Wanda grabbed her purse and made a beeline for the table full of goodies. She had been running late today, so she didn’t get a chance to grab anything before the session, leaving her options limited. There was only one cookie left, but as she reached for it, her hand brushed against someone else’s, causing her to pull her hand back quickly.

“I’m sorry-”

“No it’s fine, I shouldn’t have-”

“Please it’s all yours-”

You cleared your throat and shot her a sheepish smile before extending your hand to her.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Wanda looks at your hand skeptically and you awkwardly retract it when you realize she won’t be shaking it.

“I’m Wanda,” she says hesitantly, her eyes flashing to the cookie, and then the exit.

You tried again. “So you like the cookies here too?”

She meets your Y/E/C eyes impatiently before sighing.

“Yeah, I’ll just grab one next week, though, I really gotta go,” she says, starting towards the exit.

You watch her leave, intrigued by the girl, before you snap back to reality.

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

Wanda is almost to her car when she hears footsteps behind her and quickly turns around, her eyes glowing red.

You stare at her, wide-eyed, the remaining cookie in your hand.

“Shit, Wanda, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted to give you this.”

Wanda sighs, her eyes returning to their normal color. She pinches the bridge of her nose. Remorse fills her face. Her grief had caused her to be angrier than usual, leading to her powers flaring up accidentally. And now she had frightened this woman who was just trying to give her a damn cookie.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted like that. Thank you for the cookie. I promise I’m not always scary I just, I-”

You stopped her. “Hey, it’s fine. If I heard someone running at me in a parking lot in the middle of the night, I would be on edge too. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that. Plus, you’re...well...here,” you paused, gesturing to the community center the two of you had just come from, before continuing, “so I think it’s safe to assume you aren’t having the best time. I get it. If there’s any way I can help, please let me know.”

Wanda was at a loss for words. She had nearly struck you with her powers and here you were, looking at her with a gentle smile and no fear on your face whatsoever.

After a few minutes of silence, you awkwardly placed the napkin-wrapped cookie on the hood of her car, before stepping back and smiling at her yet again.

“I’ll see you next week, Wanda. Have a good night,” you say, waving at her before you walk out of the parking lot and down the block.

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

Only, you didn’t see her in Group the following week.

After leaving the community center, you were about to head down the block when you noticed her car in the parking lot, with her in it. You gently approached her car, tapping on the window quietly in an attempt to not startle her.

She looked up at you with puffy, red-rimmed eyes, before rolling down her window.

“May I help you?”

Her tone was much harsher than she intended, and she winced at it, but you merely smiled at her, unaffected, before digging through your bag and pulling out a tupperware container of chocolate chip cookies.

“They had leftovers tonight, you want some?”

And you had shocked Wanda yet again.

“Sure.”

You reached forward to hand the cookies to her through the window when Wanda decided to take a leap of faith.

“You can come sit in here and share them with me, I wouldn’t mind some company,” She says quietly before adding, “I’ll warn you, though, I’m a bit of a trainwreck right now.”

You laughed softly before opening the door to the passenger side of her car and sliding in. You looked at her with soft eyes.

“Trainwrecks unite.”

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

Wanda told you everything that night. She told you about Vision, about her love for him, and his for her. About how he was the first since her brother died to look at her like a person, and not a monster. She told you all about the sleepless nights, the nightmares, the desperate need for it to end.

And you listened. You watched her intently the whole time. You held her hand comfortingly as her body wracked with sobs. You were there. And that night, you didn’t know why, but you made a promise to always be there for the beautiful redhead with the lost hope.

That night was the first time since Vision’s death that Wanda slept soundly through the night. No nightmares. No suffering.

It had been three months since that night. Since then, it became a habit for the two of you to spend Wednesday nights following group sessions in her car, chatting about anything and everything. And Wanda had to admit, she was okay. For the first time since Vision’s death, she didn’t wish she could join him. She didn’t want to stay isolated in her room. She wanted to live. She wanted to show people the kindness you’d shown her. She woke every Wednesday with a smile, and you on her mind.

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

This Wednesday, you appeared nervous as you got into the passenger side of Wanda’s car.

Wanda noticed this right off the bat.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You start fidgeting with your fingers and look down at your lap as you respond.

“Yeah, I just...I have to tell you something. Promise you won’t get mad.”

Wanda looks at you with a gentle smile.

“Y/N, you’re my best friend, I could never get mad at you. What is it?”

You took a deep breath and looked up at Wanda, before asking the question.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Wanda’s eyes widened and she froze.

You tried to dig yourself out of the hole.

“Nevermind, forget I said anything, I never should’ve-”

“No.” Wanda said quietly.

“What?”

“No. I can’t. God, I could never love you.”

You felt your heart shatter in your chest.

Wanda quickly realized the weight of her words, and tried to fix them, “Y/N, no, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I-”

“It’s fine, Wanda. I have to go.”

With that, you scrambled out of the car and walked out of the parking lot and down the block, with tears streaming down your face, and your heart broken.

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

Wanda couldn’t believe she had said that. The truth is, she didn’t know if she had room in her heart for more than one love. She had loved Vision. He was everything to her. Could she also love you?

For the rest of the week, Wanda was beyond conflicted. She knew she had to apologize to you, but she didn’t want to do so until she had sorted out her own feelings. You deserved a solid answer.

It was Tuesday night. She would see you again tomorrow. And she still didn’t know. She tossed and turned that night for hours before she finally fell asleep, you and Vision occupying her mind, per usual.

She was in a field of flowers. It was beautiful. She thought about how she might like to show it to you. And then she heard someone. Someone she thought she would never hear from or see again.

“Wanda, darling.”

“Vision?” She spun around, and there he was, smiling at her.

“It’s okay, you know,” He said. Wanda was confused. He continued, “The feelings that you’re feeling. For her. It’s okay.”

She laughed, “You always did know me better than I knew myself.”

Vision smiled softly at her.

“Vision, I love you. I love you so much. I can’t let you go.”

“Wanda, no one is asking you to. You can move on without letting my memory slip away from you.”

Wanda nods softly, thinking intently about what he said.

“Tell me about her,” he encourages.

Wanda smiles.

“She’s so gentle. And so stubborn. I almost hurt her when we first met but she didn’t cower. She wasn’t afraid. She didn’t look at me like a monster. She made me laugh for the first time since you...you know. She fidgets with her fingers when she’s nervous. She does this adorable head tilt when she’s listening intently. She’s patient. She’s kind. She’s...she’s everything,” Wanda realizes, awestruck.

Vision approaches her.

“You love her.”

She looks at him, concerned. “Is that okay?”

He merely smiles. “Darling, of course it’s okay. She sounds wonderful. You deserve her. You deserve love, even if it isn’t with me. You deserve happiness.”

Wanda grabs his hands. “Thank you, Vision. For your love. I think it will always be a part of me. But I’m ready to move on. I love her. I’m ready.”

Vision squeezes her hands gently. “That you are, Wanda. I’ll always love you. Now go. Go to her.”

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

Wanda shot up, breathing deeply. This time, she only had one person on her mind: you. “I love her,” she whispers softly to herself. She smiles, but it quickly fades when she remembers the words she said to you last week. She had to make this right.

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

She arrived at Group early, noticing with a frown that the snack table was empty. She knew she would need some baked goods to give her the courage to approach you, so she approached the facilitator, Mindy, and cleared her throat to get Mindy’s attention.

“Um, hello, ma’am, I was just wondering where the goodies are? They’re usually here by now,” she said.

Mindy smiled at the girl. “I’m sorry, dear, but there won’t be any baked goods today. Y/N called me earlier, and told me she wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“Y/N? What does she have to do with-” Wanda pauses. Holy shit. You were the owner of Sugar, Butter, Flour. You had been the one making the goodies that fueled her to keep attending the group. You had been the provider of her temporary escape from the world. You did that. It truly was always you. She had to find you.

“Are you alright, dear?” Mindy asked.

Wanda shook her head. “No, there’s something I need to do. Thank you for your help, ma’am.” And with that, she sprinted out the door, got into her car, and pulled out of the parking lot.

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

Wanda didn’t know where she was going. She just knew she had to find you. And then it started raining. No, not just raining. Pouring. This made it incredibly hard for Wanda to see where she was going, but she was determined.

As she drove, she realized something. She had told you everything about herself. You had listened, asked questions. But she never once asked about you. Hell, she didn’t even know you baked for a living until 15 minutes ago. She didn’t even know why you attended the grief group.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize she had driven all the way to the park at the edge of town, until she saw you. You were sitting on a bench, in the pouring rain, sobbing and shaking. Her heart broke at the sight. She quietly got out of her car.

“Y/N?” She called your name softly, approaching you with caution.

Your head snapped up.

“Wanda?”

She smiled weakly at you, and suddenly your eyes filled with more tears as you began to shake again.

“I tried to go to Group and act like everything was normal, I really tried, Wanda, but I just couldn’t, I’m sorry, I’m so-”

Wanda rushed over to you, engulfing you in a hug, holding you tightly as you sobbed.

“It’s okay, malyshka, it’s alright. You didn’t do anything wrong. Breathe, sweet girl. I’m here. I’m right here, I promise.”

She continued to hold you and speak comforting words to you for what felt like hours, until your sobs eventually died down, and you pulled away, sniffling. You looked up at the sky as if just remembering it was pouring, before standing up from the bench.

“Sorry about that. We should probably go inside, it’s pouring, and I don’t want you to-”

“I love you,” Wanda blurted out, leaving you speechless. She stood up and took your hands, mentally breathing a sigh of relief when you don't pull away. “I’m in love with you. I’m so sorry for not admitting it to myself, or you, sooner. Me saying that I could never love you? That was the grief speaking. I shouldn’t have let it control me like that. And I’m done. I’m done letting it control me. The truth is, anyone would be lucky to love you. And I do. I love you. I love your smile, I love your kind heart. I love your baked treats, which, by the way, I just learned were yours about an hour ago,” She says, and you let out a wet laugh. “I shouldn’t have said those things,” She continued, “It was wrong. I’m in love with you. And I understand if you don’t want to give me a second chance, because-”

You cut her off by smashing your lips against hers, and without hesitation, she kissed back, her arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. The two of you only pulled away when you let out a violent shiver because of the rain. She looked at you concerned, but you merely laughed, pulling her in for another kiss.

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

“Detka, I’m home!” Wanda called out, wondering where you were. Her questions were answered when a delicious smell hit her. She walked into the kitchen and smiled adoringly at you. You were moving around the kitchen, flour in your hair, and batter all over your clothes, completely in your own little world.

“Detka,” Wanda tries again, and you spin around, holding a spatula out in front of you as a form of defense.

“Shit, Wanda, sorry, you scared me!” You said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“My how the tables have turned,” she says teasingly, before removing the spatula from your hand and licking it.

“Wanda,” you pouted, “I was using that! Now I have to wash it!”

Wanda kissed the pout off of your face, before smiling at you triumphantly at doing so.

“Or, you could stop baking for the night and come cuddle with me and watch Bewitched,” she suggested, giving you those adorable puppy dog eyes.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You know I can’t resist that face. Okay. Give me 10 minutes to get showered and then I’ll join you on the couch.”

“I’ll be counting!” She called as you made your way to the bathroom.

It had been 5 years since that night in the rain, and as she sat down on the couch, gazing down at the wedding band that adorned her left hand, she still couldn’t believe how she had gotten so lucky to find another love. You were beautiful, kind, and patient, and she loved you with every ounce of her heart.

“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?” You asked with a smile, before settling down next to her on the couch and curling into her side.

“You. It’s always you,” she replied, kissing your temple.

You smile lovingly at her. “I love you, Wanda.”

“And I love you, beautiful girl.”

And as the two of you sat there, snuggled up, and watched Bewitched, both of you were so grateful that Wanda had made room for another love.

#wanda maximoff x fem reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #wanda maximoff #wanda #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda imagine #marvel #wandavision #angst #fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff angst

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niqhtlord01 · 3 years

Text

Humans are weird: Merging multiple species into society

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

Across the landing field the ground crews were in frantic motion. Landing pads that had been used as temporary supply dumps were cleared, refugees and civilians were moved up for transport off world, and for the first time in seven months the Galaxian base commander braided his face tentacles.

From his office overlooking the entire compound, Commander Zavar kept watch of the progress from the corner of his eye while his main focus was on the mirror in front of him. Carefully observing his reflection he intertwined the several dozen chest length tentacles that grew just beneath his jaw into elegant patterns.

He hadn’t bothered to for the last few months as the braiding of tentacles was meant to show a sign of respect. A Galaxian with unbraided tentacles was essentially stating that whomever they spoke with they held them in low regard. Zavar hadn’t braided them for some time as he felt no need to show signs of respect to anyone under his command.

It had been months since the landing base was established with the intent to use it as a jumping off point in new offensives. When Zavar had been given command he felt that he would be helping bring an end to this bloody conflict by maintaining such a crucial facility. Yet just as the offensive was about to begin their enemies decided to launch a massive counter offensive on an entirely different continent. In short order the manpower which had been set aside for the Galaxian offensive was pulled away to mount a rapid defense and halt this no enemy offensive.

One by one troop ships stopped coming to his base and requested materials became increasingly diverted to other theaters of the war until finally this once crucial launching point became nothing more than a gas station for passing supply ships.

He grimaced as he made a wrong twist while braiding remembering his degrading morale and the effect it had on those under him. The drive that had once fueled Zavar was sapped away by months of repetitive supply transfers and paperwork, and this soon turned to ever laxening of base discipline among the work crews. When Zavar’s second in command came to him with information that several of the crews had taken an abandoned storage building and had turned it into an entertainment club of sorts, all he did at the time was put on his military cap and take a walk over to it for a drink himself.

That had all changed last night when in the middle of darkness moon Zavar had received an offworld communication from central command. After weeks of careful negotiation the human government they had agreed to join the war effort on the Galaxian side. A substantial force of at least four of their divisions had already arrived in system and would be sending down a battalion of 500 soldiers to further secure and expand Zavar’s base.

Within moment of the calls end Zavar had ordered all of his crews to standby and began issuing orders with renewed fire. As Zavar finished braiding his tentacles and looked out across his base he saw all of the landing pads had been cleared, and with moments to spare.

A loud rumbling could be heard and Zavar could feel the room slowly vibrating as he looked to the clouded skies.

Breaching through the murky grey clouds that had covered the sky for weeks Zavar saw a human landing craft. It was a bulky black mass of metal with a design reminiscent of an overweight bird Zavar thought as it slowly descended towards the base. He was slightly disappointed in the lacking design aesthetics of the human craft, but he had remembered that these transports were designed for carrying large amounts of troops to safe areas rather than enemy held landings. Zavar watched it for a few moments more before leaving his office and making for the landing pads.

It was a short ride from his office to landing pad three were Zavar met his second in command already waiting with a small detachment of honor guard. He exited the vehicle just as the landing craft set down sending gusts of wind out from the engines as they slowly died down.

As Zavar took his place at the head of the honor guard the loading door of the transport popped open with a loud thud and began to lower.

He had heard stories of humans before, how they were great warriors of the highest caliber, that their reflexes were heightened to such a level in the heat of battle they could see an enemy from miles away, that they could lose limbs and heal after a period of time only to forge new ones and return for more combat; truly these beings would bring a swift end to this war.

The ramp finally touched the surface of the landing pad and Zavar could finally see inside of the transport. What he saw rather surprised him however…..

At the top of the ramp stood several ranks of human soldiers dressed in combat gear, but at the head of them was a uniformed Kliptec; their serpent body draped across the decking of the craft.

Zavar cast a side long glance at his second who looked as dumb founded as Zavar was feeling before looking back at the Kliptec. Their upper body was humanoid in shape, yet they bore more hallmarks of a reptile. Scaled skin, slit like eyes, sharpened fingers, and in place of feet was a roughly six foot long tail.

As the Kliptec slithered down the ramp towards Zavar and the front ranks of humans followed Zavar was greeted by further confusion. Mixed in with the humans soldiers Zavar noted several other species not native to the human worlds.

A Draxic casually stomped forward with the ranks appearing to carry some form of heavy weapon casually over their shoulder, a Flinchestet with a communication device glided across the decking as if its limbs could not be bothered to touch the floor, a Valmorian with a red cross painted across their helmet stood alongside a Combra whose face had been ritually scared for the coming battles; but most surprising of all was the towering figure at the very back of the transport.

A hive warrior drone draped in the uniform of humanity. It held no weapon between its claws but Zavar was positive it would have no need of such a device to rip through the lot of them. Some of the honor guard made let out whimper of fear and one even went so far as to start to bring their weapon to bear.

With only a look Zavar’s second command was at the guard’s side and snatched the weapon from his hands in a single motion.

“Be. Calm.” Those two words were all he said to the guard before returning to his place next to Zavar, the weapon he had taken from the guard clutched at his side.

His men looked at their commander with silent awe as they saw Zavar look unphased at the sudden turn of events. Instead of humanity’s reinforcements they appeared to have been given a cavalcade of species that had once fought against humanity. In truth Zavar was deeply concerned about this development, but the one thing keeping him from panicking was his observations of the actual human soldiers present.

Their eyes lacked a sense of fear one would normally experience when coming upon something, or someone, so unnatural to themselves. They were alert and disciplined which was all that Zavar needed to know to reassure him that things were as they should be.

The Kliptec finally slithered in front of Zavar and gave a crisp salute which Zavar returned with a bow of comradery.

“Lt. Colonel Reginal Seth of the 17th Engineer battalion.” the Kliptec said.

“Base Commander Zavar Hatsval,” Zavar replied as he motion to his second, “and my second Xixvil Nog, of the Galaxian expeditionary force.”

“I must admit,” Zavar began as the column of forces began marching past the trio, “when I heard we were getting human reinforcements I was not expecting this.”

Reginal’s sighed and rolled his eyes as if he had heard that same statement a thousand times before.

“Our military allows anyone to enlist so long as they were born within our borders.” he stated as he turned to see his soldiers march by to the storage facilities. “It is an efficient system to use every natural resource available to your advantage, so why limit to a single species military?”

“We do not ask others to fight in our stead.” Xixvil spoke as he watched several humans walk by.

“And how has that turned out for you here?” Reginal said as his serpent mouth twisted to a half grin. “Because from where I am it looks like we’re here to fight in your stead.”

Xixvil’s mouth dropped open in shock before morphing into one of anger while Reginal continued smirking. Zavar thought he was about to see his second lash out when the hive drone he had seen before marched over to them.

It stood easily twice as high as a Galaxian and three times as high as the human soldiers around it. Its collection of eyes were constantly darting around randomly as if trying to observe everything at once while it hovered over the trio. It slowly opened its mouth to reveal rows of sharpened teeth as it surprised Zavar once again.

“Dro…..go…..where?”

In all of his life in the Galaxian military he had never heard of a hive drone capable of speech. In the past the Galaxian’s had fought several wars with the Hive and at every encounter the drone warrior caste was found to be near mindless killing machines without a queen’s control. To hear one speak in a language he could understand, let alone in broken sentences was enough to end the careers of several Galaxian biologists.

“Report to Sgt Morris, Dro.” Reginal said as if the tower beast of flesh and chitin before him was just another average soldier.

The drone’s eyes stopped twitching for a moment as if concentrating before continuing “Morris…..yes…find…Morris….going….now…sir.” It tilted a blade like appendage which took a moment for Zavar to realize it was saluting Reginal which the Kliptec swiftly returned.

“Carry on Dro.”

With that the drone shambled off after the majority of humans who had left the landing zone leaving only a few behind to begin unloading the battalion’s equipment. Reginal turned to them and handed them a data pad. “Once our gear is unloaded we will begin expanding the landing fields by three additional pads. After that we’ll start reinforcing the outer perimeter walls and compound infrastructure.”

Zavar took the data pad and began going over the details while Xixvil continued to watch Dro walk away.

“I do not mean to be rude, but why did you call that drone “Dro”?” Xixvil asked once the drone was far enough away.

Reginal shrugged, an oddly human gesture for such an alien being, before answering “That’s his name; Dro Harris.”

“It was my understanding that hive drones lacked the capacity to develop individuality.” Xixvil continued as he watched the drone in the distance stop in front of a humanoid looking figure before following them into a storage bay.

“Normally they aren’t able to, but humans have this strange ability to impart personalities into beings should they stay around them long enough.”

Both Zavar and Xixvil looked at Reginal dumbfounded.

“Are you serious?” they asked, to which Reginal simply nodded.

“One of his parents fought in the human hive wars and took an egg back as a trophy. Turns out it hatched and they decided to raise him as their son.”

“I can’t imagine humans reacted well to a hive drone in their midst.”

To their surprised Reginal shook his head. “From what he’s told me he used to be a successful actor before he enlisted; he was popular in fast food commercials.”

“Now I know you are making things up.” Zavar cut in, unable to believe what he was hearing.

“Humans do weird things like this all the time,” Reginal said, “they act distant at first but once they warm up to you the majority of them will welcome you with open arms and treat you like kin.”

He stretched out his arms so Zavar and Xixvil could get a good look at him.

“People assume humans are barbaric isolationist xenophiles, and while it is true there are some of them out there they do not make up the entirety of humanity.”

“There are humans that will sit down with complete strangers and within an hour be closer than brothers with them, humans that will drop everything to come help you even when there is no benefit to themselves, humans that will check up on you just to see if you are alright.”

“It’s weird but at times it’s almost as if humanity has been sick of just knowing only humans and will throw themselves at anything different just so they can experience something new, something exotic and exciting.”

Reginal looked at the two Galaxians as they took in what he had to say and shook his head. He gave a quick salute and then slithered after his men as the heavy equipment began rolling off the transport leaving the Galaxians in the dust.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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sajdd · 3 years

Text

i will never understand people who try to seperate c!tommy and c!dream as if their stories and character progression arent interwoven with each other

their dynamic is so interesting and tragic...

they used to genuinely be friends, brothers even. dream would antagonise tommy a lot, he would break his own rules and do things to get on tommy's nerves to play with him, but back then we all saw it as some light-hearted fun, its how tommy saw it too. he had fun in this little play-war they had going on

and then came wilbur. then came lmanberg. and suddenly he was spending more time around his actual brother. he was actually fighting against dream, it wasn't just play anymore. so then came the declaration of independence, and so came the declaration of war. the burned down house, the blown up land, the final control room, the duel, the trade.

but tommy didn't truly hate dream, not yet. but dream’s motives were so unclear, what was the truth? and what was a lie? switching sides so many times, trying to push away the blame from himself, wanting to support tommy in taking back l’manberg to helping wilbur blow up the whole place and teaming with schlatt. and so came the final battle of pogtopia and manberg, there were no winners that day but there was hope. they survived, and tommy would get his disks back from dream.

and then came exile. nothing would ever be the same for them. dream wanted tommy all to himself, and if that meant he had to cut off his contact with everyone else and quite literally beat it into his head that he is tommy's only friend? well.. some sacrifices have to be made. he'll come around eventually... and he did! but then dream pushed him too far and he ran away.

tommy was under technoblade's protection for a while, but dream couldnt afford to waste his favour on that. so he waited, and he planned. their alliance was short-lived anyway, as soon as tommy realised what he truly cared about it was over. naturally, he was going to side with the blood god himself. i mean, what better way to rub his victory into tommy’s face. his expression was priceless! this kid is just too much fun.

and he'll roam free for now, until their final battle. he'll get rid of that pest called tubbo and he can finally put tommy somewhere he cant escape from :) but then punz shows up and drags the rest of the server with him. betrayed. and tommy has the upper hand now- except. he has also secret card up his sleeve. the revive book. tommy wont get rid of him if he can potentially bring back his beloved brother.

and while dream is stuck rotting in prison, tommy starts healing. he gets better. but.. its so weird without dream. so why not visit him! to rub his victory in his face and show how much better everything is without him. how much better he's doing. he's here to rub it in his face and not because he still feels so lonely and dream is his friend and please god why wont someone love me- and the hotel is going great, he's inviting people and healing and noone comes except for the people trying to kill him but he's still friends with tubbo even if they're drifting apart and he has ranboo and why am i being replaced what did i do wrong and he goes to visit dream for the final time, its really time to put an end to this.

and then there's explosions. muffled through the obsidian walls surrounded in lava. the inescapable, unbreakable, impenetrable prison is being blown up. and dream is laughing. and dream is not surprised. and tommy is stuck with dream, because sam wont let him out its protocol and he’s stuck with dream and itll be just like exile tommy.

but he manages to survive, he cant breathe and the walls are closing in and he just wishes someone would come save him at least this one time but nobody comes. and dream is talking of partnership and running away together but there is no "us", tommy's going to get out of here and dream will die sad and alone and i bet the revive book isnt even real- and then he's screaming for help but it comes too late. he's being ripped apart and all he knows is pain and void and oh god its wilbur again. he exists in this darkness for 2 months before getting dragged back to life by the devil himself.

and there will be no more normal ever again. even the slightest pain reminds him of dying and limbo and wilbur and we can be immortal together tommy! and oh my god he has to kill dream no one should have that much power and wilbur cant come back-

and of course wilbur comes back. because he fucked up. tommy fucked up and now sam is angry, and tubbo and ranboo are angry and ghostbur is dead and wilbur is back and dream is alive rotting in that prison and why cant i just have peace for one moment what did i do to deserve this

and then his brother proclaims dream a hero. and why would he say that he knows what he did to me why would he say that

and so dream waits for wilbur to come. he knows he'll visit, he's indebted to him, he will be SO grateful for bringing him back. and if he can control wilbur then he can control tommy. and they can be friends again.

and maybe its time tommy accepted he cant run away from dream. for as long as he’s alive they are destined to be together. after all, he is tommy's friend. the one constant throughout this whole story. they have too much fun together. he was the one person who was there when no one else was. and no matter how much he hates it, somewhere deep down he still cares about dream and it makes him feel sick. but once tommy has love for you in his heart he can never really let go of it, no matter how much you might hate him or hurt him, he will still love you, remembering the good times, the fun times. and that's all dream wants doesn't he? he just wants to have fun.

(sorry this was so long idk what came over me also my thought process in the tags)

#lmao sorry this is so long and rambly #i started off wanting to explain smth but i basically ended up writing a fanfic #this is supposed to be messy btw #ITS MENTAL ILLNESS INNIT #their dynamic is just so interesting because of how it descended into this unhealthy obsession dream has with tommy and what he did to him #but he genuinely cares for him but in this.. sick and twisted way #and we know how tommy is with those he cares about. he never really stops caring #and he forgives #even if hes pissed off #its a tragic dynamic and its so interesting #it all falls apart so terribly #so dont seperate these two characters and stories because they are vital to each others development and story progression #just. so interesting #and horrifying #this was fun to write even if im shit at writing #long post #tommyinnit #dream smp #dreamwastaken #c!tommy #c!dream #c!dream critical #this isnt rlly critical but i dont want the apologists to come after me because i dont woobify dream lmao

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kitacco · 3 years

Text

sunrise.

pairing: fem!reader, gojo satoru.

genre: angst with happy ending.

summary: time doesn’t always heal.

cw: mention of manipulation, violence.

wordcount: 4.1k.

! part two of clouds !

the sky is clear when you look up into the sky. even though the sun is not out, and instead, the sky is covered with grey clouds, you still like to believe it’s clear.

he made you believe that the first time you two met.

it wasn’t like you were escaping from reality, he simply thought if there was something you could change, then you should. you believed him, after so long.

how could you describe how he makes you feel? you had never felt it before. he felt like the orange sky adorned by the full sun, illuminating the grass and bringing warmth to the body despite the breeze. was that an exaggeration? probably, he didn’t think so, though. he made you believe you could rewrite reality with only your imagination.

meeting him was fate. he told you that, you thought it was sheer coincidence and two people on the right place. he was a little more romantic than you, though.

you had been to therapy for about two years.

things weren’t easy, and honestly, you wished you could forget about it.

your therapist assured you it wasn’t your fault - it took you a while to understand that.

you were aware that it wasn’t entirely your fault, what happened was a casualty, sadly, an experience you had to go through, but also a lesson you had the opportunity to learn from. it wasn’t easy, you understood that after a year of one session every month. you cried a lot, more than what you expected, and you felt responsible. because, if you hadn’t fallen for him, everything would’ve turned out well.

you were quick to learn that your emotions shouldn’t make you guilty, instead, who was to blame was him.

after a while, you finally accepted it.

gojo never contacted you after everything happened. you wanted to go on with your life like he most likely was, however, you were incapable of creating any type of relationship with people. what used to be a big group of friends became one, and what used to be exciting became scary. your friends, then, insisted you visited a therapist. you didn’t want to, at first. if anything, you wished you could simply erase the situation from your brain for the rest of your life, but how could you when subconsciously you failed to move on? your friend and her husband moved away, and so did you. she left the city while you moved to the other end of the city. not necessarily because you wished to avoid him; your therapist thought it was better to forge relationships from zero.

another year passed, and he had completely vanished from your life. you hadn’t told your new roommate about it, but you knew your friend had before you moved in. you didn’t mind. you knew she was trying to protect you. but, it’s not like he’d ever come around again - that you believed so.

you didn’t exactly know how you met him. maybe it really was fate, like he said once. only eleven months after the incident, you were still incapable of communication. leaving your house was scary and worrisome for anything other than therapy, so you didn’t tend to visit places much often. during the time, you were still leaving at your old apartment. your friend insisting on you moving on had already convinced you of leaving the building, and that day you were finally taking the boxes out.

you met by the stairs. a box had fallen from your hands straight to his feet.

as much as you apologized, he only smiled, assuring you he was alright.

and that was it.

you met him again on your way to your therapist. it was all too similar, you thought to yourself. he happened to have a friend living in the same building as you (he was literally your next door neighbor), and you were starting to open up to people a little more. you knew his friend, as much as one knows a neighbor. the guy was nice and he always gave your roommate eyes - she genuinely didn’t mind him.

you told your therapist about it the other day. and the next day, the guy was knocking at your door.

you remembered how nice having company felt. your roommate worked all day, while you only stayed at home. unable to properly work just yet, you only worked in the mornings at a coffee shop. it was safe and easy for you most of the times, only having to wipe tables and greet costumers. you didn’t complain.

he told you he had just gone to see his friend and happened to be curious about you. his eyes were a little intense but there was something about the tone of his voice and shakiness of his smile that managed to make you feel at peace.

besides your roommate, he became someone you could trust.

things didn’t go as quickly as it would’ve normally. you had never invited him inside your house alone, but when your roommate was there, you would let him inside. he would always visit with sweets or a cup of coffee for you.

it’s like everything repeated itself once again in some extent.

after hanging out with your roommate and him, his friend started tagging alone. the guy was sweet and funny, and in less than three weeks he managed to get your roommate to go on a date with you.

that was the first time the two of you spent alone.

you’d thought by that time you were over it. you were quick to understand there were some wounds that no matter how much you tried, would leave scars that still hurt.

but he didn’t mind waiting all the time in the world for you, and he let you know that.

looking back, you finally realized what real love truly was. he was what real love felt like.

small touches, assuring words, constant communication. silence wasn’t needed with him, and your eyes never spoke more than what words did.

you genuinely felt safe again.

gojo didn’t mean this to happen. after the yelling of your friend and the end of the friendship with his friend, gojo decided he was done with you forever.

so then, why was he involuntarily following you around the store?

he had no other intentions than to look at you for one last time. it had been a while, and he was genuinely curious about how you were doing. it was impossible to find anything about you, you had completely wiped yourself out from social media, and all your friends had blocked him too. that should’ve been enough for him to understand he wasn’t welcomed in your life anymore.

but then, why was he walking towards you? maybe for some closure, maybe to apologize, maybe only to say hi.

he couldn’t tell, but it was too late before he could make up his mind.

gojo tapped your shoulder quietly in the snacks aisle. he didn’t feel nervous, tense, or uneasy, almost as if the two of you were old friends that happened to meet again after so long, picking up the friendship where it had been left off. gojo was quick to realize that wasn’t the case, though.

“gojo!” you exclaimed, jumping at his sight.

had he always been that tall?

“it’s been a while,” he chuckled, looking back at your cart full. “you got a lot there, huh? you live closeby?”

gojo didn’t waste any time, pressing a hand against your cart, trapping you.

“no,” you’re quick to answer.

one of gojo’s eyebrows raises, and you look around, hoping someone can notice your state.

“oh, then you like this store? it has more things than the others around the city, i guess-”

“i’m sorry, gojo, i’m busy and need to finish this as fast as i can, but it was nice seeing you again!”

gojo’s gaze stays on your figure as you run off with your cart. he knows you’re lying, but which two was a lie? he didn’t know.

gojo should’ve taken the hint.

he walks out of the store, noticing the clouds turn darker than they were before. he’s deliberately waiting for you outside, hoping he can get you to talk a little more. was he curious about you? not really. was he wishing he could get you back?

perhaps.

you step out of the store with the cart full of bags, and gojo approaches you fastly, startling you once again.

“need a ride?”

“oh, no, thank you,” you decline, pulling the bags out of the cart.

“then let me help you to your car,” he proposes, reaching out for one of your bags.

“no!” you exclaim, grabbing them faster than he could. “i-it’s fine, there’s a station right there so it’s fine.”

“oh no, are you silly? so many bags on the train, you’re in a rush and it’ll more likely rain? c’mon, i’ll drive you home.”

you decline his offer again, your mind running wild. it’s not that you didn’t want to accept his generosity, but suddenly all the fears you once thought were buried floated to the surface again. suddenly it felt like all the progress you had made the past years was being ripped out of your consciousness.

“please, gojo, trust me, it’s fine,” you insist, grabbing onto your bags and trying to walk away. you look around, hoping someone sees the two of you, hoping someone would stop him. but no one is around, and no one but you can stop this.

but when you see gojo again, you finally understand it was never your fault.

gojo manages to get through you, and now you’re seated by his side as he mindlessly drives through the city. you texted your boyfriend the moment you got inside his car, telling him you were coming to his place and asking him to wait for you a few streets away. he instantly called you, but too nervous, you declined the call. you didn’t want gojo to know any more about your personal life, nor know you had moved away. if anything, you wanted gojo to disappear.

but could you tell him that?

“feels like the old times,” gojo mutters over the music on the radio.

like the old times?

an inexplicable feeling rises up your chest, yet you stay silent, wishing the ride was over. gojo would occasionally eye you, and everything would feel too familiar.

only that this time the tables had turned. because you realized you hated gojo’s guts, and he realized he loved you dearly.

“we should, hang out, again,” he mutters.

“i don’t think i can,” you speak, this time, your voice doesn’t falter, and gojo turns to face you.

“you got a boyfriend?”

“no,” you retort. “i’m busy.”

“you’ve always been busy, can’t you make some time for me again?”

you don’t answer. you knew too well, that if you say a word, you’ll explode. and as capable you thought you were of getting back to him, you could also remember clearly everything gojo had done to you. you don’t think it was worth the risk, trying to speak your heart out with someone like gojo.

he would never understand; he never wanted to. and he didn’t deserve to either.

“it’s here,” you announce, and gojo stops abruptly.

he frowns once he sees the man approaching his car, and you’re quick to jump out, telling him the bags were in the back. gojo steps out of the car too.

“hey, nice to meet you,” he says, and your boyfriend looks at you. “you’re his friend?”

“she’s my girlfriend.”

your breath hitches and you’re quick to grab his hand, distracting him from gojo’s conversation.

your boyfriend wasn’t an impulsive guy. he’s thoughtful and caring, fast to understand any situation he’s in front of.

but gojo is the complete opposite, and by experience, you know no one can go against gojo, no matter how hard they try.

“oh, that’s nice,” gojo taps the top of his car as he watches the two of you grabbing the bags. “i can help you carry some bags upstairs, if needed so.”

“it’s fine, thank you,” your boyfriend responds for you.

your boyfriend grabs your hand along the bags and walks towards the building gojo knows too well.

for your surprise, gojo doesn’t insist, and when you look back, he’s already inside the car, watching the two of you enter the building.

after that incident, you once again were incapable of leaving your apartment. and you didn’t want your boyfriend to leave his either.

gojo surely had changed, you noticed that the day you two met again. he looked taller, stronger, and unnerving. even though the two of you had been friends for many years, gojo was still unpredictable. you learnt that the last years of friendship you two shared.

“can i help you’” your boyfriend speaks.

gojo is at the other side of the door, in what was once your building, and outside what was once your apartment.

he cocked his eyebrows, incapable of hiding the smile creeping up his face.

“oh, you live together? that’s sweet,” gojo comments.

your boyfriend doesn’t respond, closing the gap between his body and the door so gojo couldn’t see indie his house, “yeah, what you want?”

“well, my birthday is coming and i thought maybe the three of us could celebrate it together. i don’t know if she told you, but we’re really good friends.”

your boyfriend nods, of course you haven’t.

“i don’t think we can, the both of us work.”

“oh, yeah? well, she always manages to make time for me, maybe i could ask her personally since you’re acting quite weird,” gojo tries again, his hand pressing against the surface of the white door.

“no, i’ll ask her and we’ll let you know.”

“fine, i’ll wait for your answer by saturday, if not, maybe i’ll come back,” gojo mutters, smirking.

your boyfriend wasn’t an aggressive guy. but, hell, he wished he could punch his face so bad.

he didn’t tell you anything about gojo’s visit nor invitation. you were already having a pretty bad time, you didn’t need more pressure put on your shoulders.

he genuinely thought he’d made the best decision - yet, he couldn’t help feel intimidated by the figure he happened to constantly meet.

gojo always told him it was a coincidence. he didn’t believe him, and fast enough, he started to understand your emotions. there was something eerie about the guy.

in no time, gojo had managed to push him against a wall. your boyfriend noticed what gojo claimed was coincidence was, indeed, his following, and too scared of him finding out you, in fact, didn’t live with him, your boyfriend started lying to you, claiming he had too much work and that he couldn’t go visit you. you facetimed and called each other often, but sadly, you felt uneasy, and your boyfriend knew too.

but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you.

“so, you made up your mind?”

your boyfriend stands at the other side of the door, startled by the tall white haired man. he’s smiling, as always, feigning a kind gesture as if the two of them were friends.

“sorry man,” your boyfriend speaks up. is his voice shaking? “we couldn’t get a break from work.”

“oh, that’s unfortunate,” gojo clears his throat, smiling again. “then maybe you guys can pick a day and we can meet then.”

your boyfriend observes him, eyes darker despite the blue orbits. his tapping his feet against the floor, unable to read gojo, and he, simply smiles. he knows he’s made your boyfriend nervous, and suddenly, he’s reminded of you.

no wonder you’d get with a guy like that.

gojo knew he couldn’t let you, though, you couldn’t stay with a guy like him.

how could he protect you if something ever happened to you? this guy was so easy to manipulate. it didn’t take more than a faint punch and the closing door for him to lose his composure in front of gojo. wasn’t your boyfriend supposed to be strong enough, like him perhaps? what was this guy gonna do if he were to be in front a situation like this again? he can’t seem to land a single hit on gojo, instead, receiving the other end. gojo expects him to put up a fight, maybe ask him to stop, but he doesn’t.

he wasn’t the man for you. gojo was, he just had to prove it to you.

snapping a picture, gojo sighed.

“guess i’ll have to show her what she’s missing, don’t you think?”

your boyfriend can’t stop him when he walks out of the door, and neither can he watch him, his vision too red, and the iron smell stir his insides.

gojo looks through the guy’s phone. who leaves their phone without a password? he was only proving gojo his unworthiness. this guy wasn’t made for you.

all he had to do now is let you know.

you hear knocking on your door. it’s late, your roommate is out with her boyfriend and your boyfriend didn’t tell you he was coming. still, hopefully, you walked to the door, expecting him to surprise you.

what did surprise you was gojo on the other side, with flowers on his hands.

“did i surprise you?”

it’s too fast, or maybe not, you don’t know. gojo casually enters your house, the place you had so long worked to keep safe. he leaves the flowers on the table, and approaches you, wrapping his arms around your figure.

you’re not shaking nor reacting, and gojo takes in your warmth.

oh, how much he missed you.

“i missed you so much,” he whispers in your ear. “did you miss me?”

you reach out for your phone on the back of your pants, carefully bringing it in front of you to quickly deal your boyfriend’s number.

a phone starts ringing, and it doesn’t take you long to recognize the ringtone.

“oh, someone’s calling,” gojo mentions, letting you go to check your boyfriend’s phone. it’s like he was expecting you to do so, answering the call like he hadn’t seen your caller id on the screen. “yes?”

“why do you have my boyfriend’s phone?”

“we happened to meet before i came here, nothing too serious, don’t worry,” gojo pats your head. “he was being an asshole, though, i guess i just had to prove him.”

you gasp when gojo brings up the phone to your face, “w-what did you do?”

“told you, i just wanted to make sure he was enough for you. he wasn’t, though, so i had to come let you know.”

only proves we’re made for each other, don’t you think?

you shake your hand, taking a step back.

“listen, listen gojo,” you start. your voice is firm and your trying to keep your cool too. gojo has many times proven what he’s capable of, and right now, you only wanted to at least postpone whatever he planned to do. “i think you should go home, it’s like, my roommates coming with her boyfriend, i don’t think it’s fine if they see you here.”

“you think? we can find out though.”

“no, i don’t think we should, so, let’s leave it here, we can meet tomorrow, okay? we can go have lunch together and catch up like old times.”

gojo laughs, shaking his head as he looks down to his hands.

“why are you treating me like i’m crazy?” he asks, and your breath hitches. you stop and watch his movements, suddenly the atmosphere turning colder. “because i’m in love with you?”

“i’m sorry, gojo—”

“is it wrong to be in love? are you really blaming me for my feelings?”

you can’t tell if he’s being honest or putting up an act. once again, he’s managed to get inside your head. you don’t have more options and your minds clouded, unable to find a proper solution to the situation, unable to end this.

“just give me one last chance, that’s all i ask from you.”

gojo knows you too well, too much for your own safety and sometimes for his own liking.

and so you find yourself sitting at a restaurant a few streets away from your apartment, waiting for gojo to arrive. you didn’t believe you’d made an irresponsible decision - in fact, this was the smartest way to handle the situation. your boyfriend pleaded you to not come. you could understand that, he’d finally met gojo and he’d sensed it; gojo was far stronger mentally and physically than you’d suspect. it was fine. you weren’t nervous or scared, no, because, if there was something your therapist had told you, was that, as long as you set your boundaries and knew your worth, you wouldn’t fall for his tactics anymore. you didn’t come here to make friends with him again or to assure him everything was okay, you were here to let him know it was over. plus, you had decided to give yourself a day to decide what exactly you were gonna tell him.

“didn’t expect you to come in so early,” he mutters, taking a seat in front of you. “you’re fifteen minutes—”

“let’s talk,” you interrupt.

gojo can sense it, you’ve changed. when he looks at you, he can tell you’re not that deer he’d used to hunt for.

he wants to tell you the truth - the one he’s made up in his head.

“i love you, i’m in love with you.”

it hasn’t been more than five minutes since he sat down. gojo notices the lack of reaction, the indifference in your face, and suddenly, he’s feeling nervous. he’s not good with words and you know that, yet you’re not reacting the way he’d pictured, imagined, last night. you’re not telling him you’re in love with him too and that you want to try again. you’re not smiling or reaching out to hold his hand on the table, or getting up to wrap your arms around his body. you stay in your place, with eyes boring into his, waiting for him to say something else.

but he’s got nothing else to say, “gojo, i don’t love you.”

gojo doesn’t like that, you can tell by the soft tapping of his shoes under the table. the restaurant is full and you know the last thing he wants to do is make a scene. because, if he were to do so, his true colors would show.

“how are you sure about that? is it because of your boyfriend?” gojo asks, leaning closer to you. “you know he’s not the one, you know he doesn’t make you feel the way i do.”

“gojo, everything is in the past,” you sigh, tilting your head, tired. “the both of us made bad decisions, played with each other, hurt each other, but that’s in the past and it should stay there.”

“no! i don’t want us to stay in the past, i need us right now,” gojo mutters, and if you didn’t know him well, you’d almost think he was pleading. “we’re meant to be.”

“we’re not!” you exclaim, now losing your patience. “we hurt each other, can’t you remember that? i let you play with me and manipulate me, and now that you’ve realized i did nothing but try to please you you’re suddenly feeling guilty! but things don’t work like that, gojo, mistakes like that can’t be embedded that easily. you have to take responsibility of your actions.”

“i never wanted to hurt you, i wanted you to be stronger—”

“and i am now, thanks to you,” you say. “thanks to what you did to me i’ve finally understand that i deserve better.”

“how do you know i can’t make it up to you?”

“because i won’t let you, because i’ve found somebody else that’ll make it up to me, and it’s not you.”

“one chance is all i’m asking—”

“you already had your one chance, and you wasted it.”

“then another one—”

you’re sure six months ago you’d fell for that. you’d wished to give gojo another chance. after all, no one was more special to you than he was. you could say, until this day, gojo was the most special person in your life. that didn’t mean you deserved to suffer to help him make it up to you. whatever he wanted wasn’t something healthy and neither of you deserved it. but it wasn’t your job to make gojo understand that, it wasn’t your responsibility to fix gojo.

gojo knew you had changed. he knew he didn’t have the right to come back in your life, nor were you supposed to help him embed things. still, he wished he could still have you by his side.

“it’s time to move on.”

because now, when he looks up at the sky early in the morning to watch the sunrise, he knows he wasn’t made to stay by your side.

#gojo angst #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #tw. manipulation #tw. violence

626 notes · View notes

notsowrites · 3 years

Text

No Place Else I Could Be (But Here In Your Arms)

A 3x10 Malex Coda

I got an anon prompt asking if I could write the couch sex. This is not that... well, not exactly. There’s sex, just not that specific sex. So I wrote this, and then in typical fashion, worried about it until I remembered something someone told me once: "in the time you're spending worry about it, they've already taken their pants off.”

{AO3 Link)

So here ya go, enjoy! <3

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Michael wakes slowly, acutely aware of Alex sleeping next to him. Legs tangled, Alex has his face buried against Michael's shoulder, tiny exhales as he sleeps blowing cool air across Michael's skin. They'd somehow managed to fall asleep on the couch afterwards, the afghan pulled over their naked bodies.

He’s beautiful, he’s perfect, he’s home, Michael thinks as he watches Alex sleep.

Last night had been different from anything that had happened before between them. Michael had made the decision, especially after everything with Alex the last couple days, and particularly in regards to trying to learn how to let go of his anger with the past, to finally tell Alex this is what he'd been working towards, this had been the mission he'd referred to the night he'd kissed him at the Pony. To finally be able to answer the question Alex had posed in the song he'd sung a year ago, to finally be able to say he was home.

Max, Isobel… Dallas - they were family. He knew he'd only just met Dallas, but after their talk on the pier, he wanted to get to know him more. To explore that hope Theo had expressed that they would form their own triad.

It's all broken without three, Max had once slurred out in the midst of a bender on their 21st birthday. And maybe Michael hadn't realized it at the time just how true that statement actually was. Because he had a triad, he's had Max and Isobel since the moment they emerged from the pods. But he also had another triad in Isobel and Dallas, one that was brand new and he couldn't wait to explore more.

Alex had been right, he did need to start letting go of his anger about his childhood. But he's relied on it for so long, it's been a constant companion to him almost since the moment they came out of the pods. It's not going to be easy, but he had realized today he needed to start putting in the work. And in the bunker, Alex had listened as he'd broken apart, giving him the details he'd never shared before about that part of his life. As the tears had fallen down his cheeks, Alex had been there to wipe them away. To remind him that the past didn't define him. He'd rolled up the sleeve of his jacket, exposing his arm and the faded scar of a long healed burn. Alex had reached out, fingertips tracing along the skin.

I'd thought it was just a junkyard accident. I never asked.

Michael also knows that before today, he never would have answered with the truth.

He'd seen his own pain reflected back in Alex's eyes, a kind of tether between them he still didn't fully understand. Because it wasn't the first time he thought it appeared as though Alex was able to feel the pain he was experiencing, though it's the first time he thinks to explore it and understand it. It was one of the reasons, on the list of many, that had kept him awake at night over the last decade, curious about their connection, about what it meant and how to exactly describe it.

Cosmic had fit the way no other word had. The vast reaches of the universe, the galaxy, the cosmos. There was too much of it, it was impossible to truly put into words, to quantify - and that's how his connection with Alex felt.

Indescribable and infinite.

Dallas had asked, afterwards. He's more than the guy who fixed our parents' machine, isn't he. Michael had, at first, been floored by the recognition. That Dallas had picked up on that already. But for the first time he's eager to answer in the affirmative, to be able to say that, yes Alex is more than that to him. It's the way you look at him.

He'd told Alex later as they'd sat here, how easy they were for everyone else to read. And he'd watched as Alex had smiled as he spoke, staring back at him with a bit of a knowing look. You should ask him about it, next time you talk. At first, he hadn't understood the meaning, why he needed to ask Dallas how he knew, why it mattered. But as the night progressed between them, it wasn't until they were skin to skin, coming down from their orgasms, that it hit Michael.

Dallas has his own Alex.

He hears the change in Alex's breathing a moment before Alex is pressing his nose to the skin of his chest, slowly waking up himself.

"I love the way you smell," Alex says, the words spoken against his lips. "Like after a rainstorm, but with a hint of motor oil and grease. The rain always makes me think of you."

"Every time it rains?" He knows Alex has mentioned the smell before, made a joke about it that day they'd been investigating at the Long Farm. But no one else has ever said anything, commented on the way he smells before - well, about the grease and motor oil they have, sometimes a comment about how he would smell better if he showered more. But Alex is the only one to mention a rainstorm.

Alex nods, propping himself up on Michael's chest so they can look at one another. Michael reaches up, pushing Alex's hair back off his face, watching as Alex leans into his palm.

"In a way, I was glad it doesn't rain very often in the Middle East. It meant something of you didn't follow me to distract me."

Michael smiles. "I'm a distraction?"

It's the way Alex smiles in return, it's the way he leans forward and pushes their mouths together, pulling Michael's lip between his own. It's the way Michael has his arm wrapped around Alex, his hand resting on his back, slowly moving up and down against his skin. It's the way Alex trails a hand down his chest, fingers dancing across his chest hair as Alex continues kissing him.

Alex wraps a hand around his dick, palm against the sensitive skin, their lips still moving together, and Michael can't stop the gasp that escapes at the sensation. He reaches up, his hand going to the back of Alex's neck, pulling him in and closer, closer, closer as Alex's hand moves. Their foreheads stay pressed together, they breathe the same air as Michael feels his dick harden under Alex's careful motions.

It disappears in the next moment though, Michael opening his eyes just as Alex is pushing up and off his chest. He's about to protest, about to ask what Alex is doing, when Alex straddles his hips.

"Alex," he whines, hands immediately moving to Alex's hips, fingers pressing into the skin and muscle. He watches helplessly as Alex reaches behind himself, a second later feeling Alex's hand on him again, his dick pressing against Alex's hole. He's about to protest, because he would enjoy nothing more this morning than being able to finger Alex open, to hear his particular moans and groans, when Alex pushes down, because Michael is unable to focus on anything except the feeling of tight muscle and heat, and Alex.

Closing his eyes, he gives himself over to the feelings, fingers tightening slightly on Alex's hips before he feels a set of hands on his face. He opens his eyes to see Alex in front of him a moment before their lips collide, their foreheads pushing together. He kisses back, pulling Alex's lip between his own, sucking on it, running his tongue along it. Slowly, Alex starts to move, small gyrations of his hips, and Michael slides his hands down to grab onto the flesh of his ass, urging him, encouraging him, to move faster.

But Alex keeps his dizzyingly slow pace, their lips pressed together, and Michael goes. He gives himself to the heat building low in his belly, the way he can feel his balls tightening. Focuses on Alex's lips against him, Alex's body against his, until he can't take it anymore.

He pushes up, guiding Alex with him, and gently flips their positions on the couch. He pulls Alex's legs up around him, and pushes back into him, sealing their lips back together as he thrusts forward.

"Michael-"

He doesn't answer, not with words, just holds himself above Alex as he chases every feeling that is building up inside him. Michael feels his arm shaking again, they'd done the same thing last night when he'd been overwhelmed by everything happening as he’d held himself up above Alex. Because it's been months upon months since he's had Alex like this. And if he's being honest, also never quite like this. Everything feels better now, he doesn't have the impending sense that when this is done, when they're sated and letting their bodies cool, that it won't mean one of them is planning their escape. Because he's home, and neither of them are leaving now. There was last night and waking up this morning and Michael knows that there is going to be a tonight as well.

A future.

He leans down, pressing his lips to Alex's chest, to the space near his heart where he'd been injured by the crazed bootmaker. Michael slows his thrusts enough to find the scar - small and barely visible but another constant reminder of how close he came to losing Alex forever - and kisses it again. He doesn't know if Alex knows what he's doing, until Alex slides a hand up his neck and into the hair at his nape, guiding him up to kiss him again that Michael thinks he does.

"I'm right here," Alex breathes against his lips, short kisses over and over, their foreheads pressed together tightly. "I got you."

His hips jerk faster, and he feels Alex tighten around him as he spills onto his stomach. Michael presses down towards him, keeping their foreheads pressed together, catching every sound that escapes Alex’s lips. He feels Alex’s hands on his back, gripping his ass, fingers digging into the skin and muscle, urging him on. It doesn’t take much longer before Michael’s own orgasm hits, ripping through him with one final thrust, Alex holding him still as he spills into him. He chokes out an embarrassingly loud moan into Alex’s mouth, overwhelmed by everything he is feeling, before sealing his lips around Alex’s own.

Neither moves right away, and Michael feels Alex’s hands on his back, fingers tracing patterns along the skin as their lips continue to brush together. Gently, he falls forward, his arm no longer caring to support him, and he tucks his face into Alex’s neck, pressing a kiss to the underside of his chin. Alex shifts his arms, one hand moving up to bury itself in his curls, and Michael leans into the touch.

He doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to stop touching Alex, not yet. Maybe not ever. But there’s cum cooling on Alex’s chest, and Michael allows himself to be pulled back to the present, that they should probably clean up first.

But it's that thought which has him thinking about last night again, and this morning, and how eventually they're going to get dressed, and they're going to have to face whatever the day brings. But tonight, when it's all said and done - he won't be going back to the junkyard to an empty trailer. No, tonight will be different. Tonight will mark their new beginning, new steps forward in their relationship.

On the coffee table, his cell phone buzzes from where he'd left it last night. Whatever and whoever it is can wait a little longer, he thinks. He has something - someone - more important to take care of first.

#roswell new mexico #malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #notso writes fanfic #hope you like this anon <3 #itried.gif

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starrywolf101 · 3 years

Text

Sure, we could say that Tommy is physically normal after revival,

But that's no fun.

So, how about this:

People weren't made to been revived. Bringing the dead back has consequences.

When Tommy came back, he wasn't the same, and I'm not just talking about trauma.

His body is much more fragile, and is more zombie-like than human. He has phantom pains now, and any recent wounds rot really fast. Healing potions hurt him and potions of harming heal him. He's truly undead in every way except mentally. Being revived has more or less shoved his spirit back into a corpse.

This is another reason why he's afraid of pain, because witnessing his body rot away adds onto the trauma.

Scars litter his body, both old and new.

Even with Ranboo, Tubbo, and Puffy's support, he retreats into his head and dirt shack. He refuses to leave the space, terrified of everything.

But... when he meets Michael, something protective takes hold. Here is a child free of the traumas he and others have faced. Not only that, but Michael looks at Tommy and doesn't run and hide. He loves his big brother Tommy.

Tubbo and Ranboo watched the progress that Tommy has made since meeting their son. They've watched Tommy hide away from everything, afraid of even being touched, to going on walks with Michael and running around with the kid. With Michael, Tommy allows physical contact. He gives the kid piggy back rides, he reads out loud while Michael sits in his lap, and they've even napped together, with Michael curled into Tommy's body.

Sometimes, even if he doesn't get hurt, his scars rot away when not taken care of for a period of time. Tubbo has taken to treating Tommy when this happens, and even makes the boy do check-ups. Michael loves to help, playing doctor with Tommy. He's not disgusted by the rot like others are, and maybe that has something to do with them both being zombies of sort.

Even if Tommy is still scared of the world, he makes progress everyday. His support system are there for him.

And then something bad happens.

It was just a picnic with the four of them, and Michael had wondered off. Tommy left to look while Tubbo and Ranboo relax. None of them were particularly worried. Next thing they know, there's an explosion and loud squeals of fear. The two of them race towards the distressed sounds, only to find a creeper hole and a curled up figure at the bottom. Tommy was unconscious, injured, and curled around Michael. Luckily Michael didn't have a scratch on him, but thats because Tommy took the hit.

Tubbo, who always caries potions of harming for both his undead son and best friend, is quick to tend to Tommy while Ranboo calms their distressed child. While most of the burns and rot heals, Tommy took a lot of damage to his head— more specifically, his right eye. Tubbo would've gagged if he wasn't already used to gruesome injuries. He's learned to numb himself as a child soldier.

Tommy remains unconscious for a few days, and he stays at Tubbo's home in Snowchester. Michael sits by his bed, worried for his uncle. Tubbo assures the piglin child that Tommy was strong and would be up in no time.

The first thing Tommy sees when he wakes up is Tubbo, as Michael was long asleep after he'd been promised that Tommy would be looked after.

"Tubso...?"

Happy that his best friend was awake, Tubbo had pulled Tommy into a hug, though it was gentler than the normal bone-crushing embraces. "You scared us! What were you thinking!?"

Returning the hug as best as he could, Tommy answered: "I saw the creeper and acted, Big Man. What kind of big brother would I be if Michael got hurt?"

Apparantly, they weren't quiet enough, because both are alerted to the sound of small hoof-steps. Smiling, Tommy invites the kid into the bed, who immediately snorts happily and curls up into his side. And in that moment, Tubbo wants to cry tears of joy— he saw the way Tommy looked down at his son, and was reminded of how Wilbur used to look at Tommy and Fundy. Just the sheer amount of love... and Tommy wasn't even aware of his own expression.

When Tommy catches Tubbo's staring, he rolls his eyes and scoots himself and Michael over. "Get in here already, Big Man. Its late and I'm exhausted." With no further invitation needed, Tubbo climbs in and presses against Tommy's other side. That's how Ranboo found them in the morning (he took pictures so that none of them would ever forget.)

A few days after that, they take the bandages off Tommy's head and reveal his eye— just a socket now. Trying to make the best of the situation, Tommy cracks a smile and looks at Michael: "Looks like we're matching, Big M,"

Surprisingly, the creeper explosion didn't set Tommy back in progress. In fact, a little bit of the old Tommy was coming back to him after the experience. He started venturing out more, though not without armor anymore. He also finally moved out of that cruddy dirt shack and moved into Snowchester.

Tommy wore an eyepatch most of the time nowadays, not wanting people to stare at his socket. He only took it off around people he felt safe around. Those being Puffy, Tubbo, Ranboo, and Michael. He still got the odd looks at the eyepatch from people who didn't know, but those that did never commented on it.

With the mansion nearly complete, Ranboo decided that he wanted to move some of his stuff in. While he still lived in his cabin by Techno, he also wanted to stay with Tubbo and Michael. So the compromise was that he'd live in both homes. With that settled, Tommy promised to help Ranboo move some of his things over.

Now, this was the first time since right before the "final confrontation" with Dream that he's seen Techno and Phil. Of course, they'd heard he was locked in the prison, and there was a rumor going around that he died, but neither realy knew what he went through.

So of course Techno starts a fight with Tommy about being on his property.

Of course Tommy's stubbornness gets the best of him and he immediately starts arguing back. Ranboo watches the train wreck that is Techno and Tommy's relationship. Phil stands behind Techno, only jumping in to agree with his friend.

"And whats even with the eyepatch? It looks so stupid!"

Snarling, Tommy clenches his fists. "You wanna know whats with the eyepatch? Fine." He rips it off to reveal the rotting socket. It was about time for the weekly checkup anyways, but he wanted to help Ranboo first.

Shocked silence falls over the two anarchists, and Tommy feels a sense of satisfaction.

"...I– Tommy?" Phil was at a loss for words.

"It turns out being revived from the dead isn't all sunshine and flowers. But, I guess neither is being beat to death by your abuser either, innit."

They were already carrying everything that Ranboo wanted to take with him, do with that, Tommy starts to head back for the nether portal.

Suddenly pulled from his shock, Techno reaches for Tommy, wanting– no, needing an explanation. The voices in his head were all confused on how to feel, and he felt much the same. "Theseus–"

Ranboo grabs Techno's wrist before he could touch Tommy. Ranboo, who had talked about having the backbone of a chocolate eclair, had a look in his eyes. Something dangerous and protective that made Techno back off. "Do not touch him." Ranboo had hissed before realizing what he did and getting flustered. "He, uh– he doesn't like being touch..." Ranboo mumbles before hurrying after Tommy.

Techno and Phil are left to wonder what happened to a boy once so full of life. The thought that they were partially of fault for this weighed heavy on them.

---

I didn't really go back and proof read this, it was mostly just a single stream of consciousness over the past couple hours of writing.

Edit: [Masterpost]

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