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lostdreamr-blog1 · 2 years

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Running Never Helped Anyone

Requested: Thank you Anon for this request! Hope this is what you were looking for and more!!

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Female!reader

Warnings: mentions of depression, mild swearing, some fluffy fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

Dean and Sam were out on a hunt a few states over while I was supposed to cover an easy one near the bunker. Dean wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of me hunting solo, but he agreed that it shouldn’t take more than a day and that I should have no problems. His exact words were, “Call if you need anything but you can do this in your sleep.” Which is the complete opposite of what happened. One nomad vampire turned out to be a whole nest and shit hit the fan quickly. I managed to get out with a decent sized cut on my side that needed stitches and a few bruises.

Which is why I was currently sitting on the bathroom floor bawling my eyes out as I pushed the needle in and out of my skin. I don’t know if was the pain that was escalating my emotions, but I could feel myself start to go down that dark hole I worked so damn hard to get out of not that long ago. My thoughts seemed like they were surrounding me, shouting all my insecurities at the top of their lungs making me feel worse and worse as the minutes went by. I knew better than to simply shut down and let the negativity consume me, but this was an uphill battle that I didn’t see me winning. The hunt was simple, or supposed to be, but turned into chaos. If I would’ve stayed, I probably would’ve been killed which tells me I made the right decision.

But I had to abandon the hunt which is something I knew was going to piss Dean off.

I stopped what I was doing and dissected that last thought. If I knew I made the right call, why is it that I care so much about Dean’s view towards it? Hunting with them for the past few years brought me a sense of safety and kept the dark, intrusive thoughts away. I felt like I was free of the anxiety and depression that consumed me for far too long, until now. I wasn’t blind to my own feelings about Dean. That green eyed hunter had a special place in my heart even though I knew I held no space in his. But what alarmed me was the fact I was willing to put myself in danger just to please him and get a “job well done”. I was throwing myself back into the worst part of my brain because I was worried about disappointing him. But telling him that would set him off. To sit there and try to explain why I was feeling the way I am would complicate things further than any of us need.

Because of that, I knew it was time to leave. Scrambling to cover my mostly finished stitches, I ran to my room and started throwing what I could into bags. Hunters always packed light, but holy shit I have accumulated so much over these years. I didn’t give myself time to think about what to take or leave as I knew the boys would be on their way back at some point tonight. Getting up the courage to leave and take on the world by myself was something that would dissolve the second Dean walked into this bunker. After quickly writing a note that I was fine and it was my time to move on, I nearly collapsed into my truck and drove off with zero destinations in mind. The only thing I prayed for was that the brothers would let me go with no questions asked.

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2 years later...

I was on a salt and burn case down in Texas when a gruff voice made me jump. “So, you are alive.”

I knew who it belonged to before I even turned around. Sure enough, I was met with a cold stare of the older Winchester. “Hey Dean.”

As he was looking me over to see that I was in fact alive and in one piece, I took a lingering glance at him. His hair seemed a bit longer and had more stubble on his face than usual. But overall, he looked the exact same. “Care to explain why the hell you disappeared off of a sudden?”

We weren’t exactly in the best place for a conversation like this, with people being able to freely hear what we were saying. I don’t think saying the word “vampire” in a serious tone would go over well. He seemed to catch onto my thought and pointed behind him. The impala was parked on the curb, and I quickly realized I had nowhere to run to if things got bad.

“Get in the car, Y/N.” his voice gave me zero room to argue, and I found myself walking to the car that I never thought I would see again.

The first few minutes of our drive were filled with tension. I could see the white knuckled grip on his steering wheel and practically felt the anger rolling off him. My best option was to stay quiet until he started the conversation. “What did I do?”

My head snapped towards him at that question. “What do you mean?” Of all the things to ask, that wasn’t what I expected.

“I keep going over it in my head. We left to go on a hunt. You had a small hunt of your own. And then you were gone. Those years before you seemed happy and then suddenly you change your damn number. It took a while to find you, but when we did, I realized you were trying to stay hidden. And the only conclusion I can come up with is that I did something.” While he wasn’t entirely wrong with assumption, he had no control over my thoughts.

I let out a long sigh and prepared myself for a conversation I planned over and over since the day I left. I wasn’t sure if it was the anxiety that drove me to try and perfect what I was going to say, but I knew I couldn’t explain things without it. “I need you to listen to everything without interrupting. That is the only way I’m going to get through this.”

A small nod of his head prompted me to keep going. Before I met you, I struggled with depression pretty bad. A good day for me was getting out of bed and eating something small, but those days were very few. I don’t think I can really explain why I was depressed, just that my brain decides it wants to hate everything about me and around me. By some miracle I found the will power to go on a hunt and ran into the two of you. I don’t think you realized it, but you saved me from myself by offering for me to tag along. After some time, I became the better version of myself and hadn’t had a dark thought in a while until that night I left.”

I paused as he pulled the car over on the side of the road and gave him a questioning look. “I have a feeling I’m not going to like what I hear and don’t want to damage baby.” A valid thought on his part.

“The hunt wasn’t simple like we thought, and it turned into a whole nest of vampires. I had to get out of there and couldn’t complete it like we originally thought. That night I kept beating myself up about it and I knew you would’ve been so disappointed in me. I could feel myself spiraling and came to conclusion that I needed to get out while I was still myself. But I knew if I tried to leave with you there, I wouldn’t be able to. With all the stress hunting puts on you two, you didn’t need the added stress of me and my pretty fucked up mind. So, I left.” Silence was what answered me, and I knew he was trying to process it all. This whole time he had only known one side of me and that was the stable and happy part. The monster that can make an appearance at any time had managed to stay hidden when I was with them.

“You could’ve told me. I would’ve been there for you.”

I looked out the front window and shook my head. “To talk to someone about what’s going on in my head isn’t an easy thing to do. To feel that vulnerable and admit that something isn’t quite right, wasn’t something I wanted to go through.”

I looked over as he ran a hand through his hair. “Sweetheart, I don’t care if you would’ve yelled at me or needed someone to force you out of bed. I would’ve helped you in any way I could’ve if it meant I knew you were safe.” He paused and came back a littler angrier than before, “And what the hell was that thinking I would be disappointed in you? You think I would rather you get hurt and finish the hunt? I don’t care if it was the easiest hunt in the world. You come get me if you think you can’t do it.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that came out, “Of all the things my mind tried to throw at me, I knew that was the most irrational. I was so caught up in my feelings for you and that need for approval, that I was willing to put myself in danger. Another reason why I left.” As I thought about what I just admitted to him, I silently cursed myself.

“Your feelings for me?” I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the seat. “I don’t know if you know this, but you Dean Winchester, are a little hard not to fall for.”

His audible scoff opened my eyes. “Well, that’s just fan-freakin-tastic, Y/N. You mean to tell me now, after I randomly run into you and basically force you into my car, that you decide to tell me you have feelings for me? Do you see how that could piss me off?”

I tilted my head to the side in confusion. “Not really.”

He shook his head and pulled the impala back onto the road. I waited for him to elaborate or at least tell me where we were going, but there was nothing. “Dean, what are you doing?” He turned the music on, and Back in Black filled the care.

“I’m bringing you back home. I’m not losing you again, sweetheart. Now that I know these feelings aren’t just one sided.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean x you #fluff #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester fanfiction

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moki-dokie · 1 year

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I wish I had the same tools and resources as other artists my age did in their formative years. I wish I had some of the tools I have now back then. I wish my brain worked like most people's and that I could visualize light sources and how it interacts with a subject. I wish I had the time and money to go take some real university art classes. I wish a severe years long battle with depression didn't rob me of creativity so badly that I lost what little skill I had. I wish I hadn't developed a bad tremor and twitch thanks to medication meant to fight that depression. I wish I had enough time in the day to actually do art how I want.

There's a ton of things I wish I could change, have, or do in regards to art. I'll never not be extremely envious of artists decades younger than me that are already so insanely skilled that they can pitch a portfolio to studios. I'll never not be jealous of peers my age that continue to grow and get even better at something they're already so good at.

But, at the same time, I've learned to be gentler on myself. I've forgiven myself for the things out of my control. And instead of staying stuck in an endless negative spiral and lamenting all the what-ifs and could-bes, I choose to go forward and make art anyway. I choose to have fun with it again, to doodle and experiment. I allow myself the freedom to start over and learn. I still don't have all the resources available to me that I wish I did but I won't let that stop me. It can still be extremely frustrating when I want to draw something and simply can't figure out how or when nothing turns out how it looks in my head, but it isn't the end of the world. I'll make something else, learn something new, and continue.

It's hard to start over in your mid 30s, but I'd rather do this than bang my head against a wall forever and hate everything I do to the point of not doing it at all. Finding the joy in creating again has been key. And sometimes that means sketching studies of cats for weeks on end because their anatomy is pleasing to work with and I can find myself learning while I'm at it, to the point that soon I won't need endless refs and I'll be able to draw them mostly from memory. Sometimes that means turning a funny meme into a full comic page just to challenge myself with expressions and panel layouts or to play around with color or grayscale. Sometimes it means leaving something I was working on for weeks or months and then coming back to it with a fresh perspective, new knowledge, and rekindled joy that made me start it in the first place. And, sometimes it's merely finding a bunch of tutorials and trying them out to see what happens.

It's crazy how much this ipad has really boosted my creativity. Not being tied to my PC is a huge bonus, as is the feeling of drawing on paper (bless paper like screen protectors!) And drawing directly on the surface. A stylus that behaves like an actual pencil (or pen, or brush, or whatever) has been tremendously rewarding and fun. I think a lot of my frustrations before were purely because I just didn't have the right tools. My Wacom was a piece of shit that only worked with sai which wasn't ideal. This is miles better, I really can't even describe it.

Anyway all this to say that if you're struggling with your art, it's ok. Be kinder to yourself, cut yourself some slack, and maybe just doodle pages and pages of silly looking cats for the hell of it. Whatever brings some measure of joy.

#art #artists on tumblr #idk just some thoughts floating around

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tteokdoroki · 3 years

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waves that hurt | k.bakugou + i.midoriya.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader x izuku midoriya.

♡ word count: 3.04K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, hurt, angst and comfort.

♡ summary: dark days mean dark waves that crash across your mind, intrusive and mean the waves pull you under— but they are the helping hands that pull you up and let you breathe.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy tw for depression, intrusive thoughts and self depreciation, self doubt and low self-worth. this fic is written mostly from personal experiences and may not be accurate to how everyone feels! mentions of therapy.

♡ author’s note(s): this is my contribution to @doinmybesthere ‘s mental health awareness collab, this is kinda personal to me and something i experienced recently!! i hope it can provide some comfort to anyone out there, please don’t forget to check out everyone else’s works and i hope you’re all safe ‘n well <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

“kacchan, it’s much worse this time, i really think you should come home early tonight.”

deku whispers into the phone, his marred hands rub slow and soothing circles into your back from over the duvet— you can feel his warmth, light and airy through it but he feels and sounds much further away. a million miles across a dark ocean that trickles through your thoughts, intrusive and mean, keeping you under and away from clear air.

you wouldn’t want to pull him into this, bother him with the way you drown in dark thoughts— so you pull away from your boyfriend and tuck yourself away into the sheets.

izuku doesn’t retract his hand even as you pull away, listening to katsuki grunt orders down the phone— make sure yn’s eaten, make sure yn’s had water. basic things you should be able to do on your own but can’t, paralysed by the anxiety and depression that clamps down on you like a vice and refuses to let you up so you can just breathe. you want to breathe and not feel like the world is crashing down on you, to have a second to yourself where everything seems like it’s okay.

brushing fingers over the nape of your neck, toying with the coils of your baby hairs, your boyfriend speaks, only gently. “baby,” says quietly, his weight causing the bed to dip. “katsuki will be home soon, do you want to come with me to let him in?” you shrug, a sick feeling twisting in your gut. you see the black tendrils and waves in the back of your mind, bringing forth a new batch of ugly words that force you down. are you really that much of a burden these days that katsuki has to call it quits on work for you? “how are you feeling?”

you don’t know, you don’t know how to tell him that every thought you have hurts and there’s a pain in your chest with every breath you take. “i don’t know, it’s just...bad izu…” you want to explain how you feel deep inside, but the words are trapped like balls of tar in your throat— fear that if you say something he’ll walk away.

“you don’t have to say anything, don’t force yourself to…” he speaks with a soft voice, cotton to your ears in an attempt to soothe you. you can just about feel the clean air flowing through your lungs at the sound— it tells you he loves you, no matter what and you almost believe it before sinking back under. “let’s get you some water okay? wouldn’t want kacchan scolding us would we?”

the joke hangs in the murky and heavy air for a few seconds before you muster a small smile— your green haired boyfriend lets out a tiny sigh of relief and pressed a kiss into your hairline, the affection simmers under your skin and briefly brings light to your dark mind as izuku starts leading you to the kitchen.

you’re curled up in izuku’s lap when the front door pops open with a click— signifying your other boyfriend had arrived home. you flinch, hiding yourself in the blankets keeping you warm and locking away the dark thoughts from the eyes of your lovers.

part of you hated them seeing you this way, that’s why you forced yourself to keep everything away from them— but they knew, they always did and always came to your rescue. you didn’t want them to feel like they had to look after you when the days were bad and draining and your mind took hold of everything that you felt. you didn’t need the weight of your own problems on the shoulders of two pro heroes who had enough to deal with.

in the end, you would destroy them like you did with yourself.

you can hear katsuki shedding his gear by the door, feeling his intense and heated presence flood the room and barely penetrate the barrier you created for yourself even while you lay in izuku’s arms. for as long as you’d known the two— even from back in your U.A days, bakugou had hated self-pity, of course in recent years he’d cooled down a little and spoke less on the actions of others but even still, you weren’t sure if you could handle him looking down on you for looking down on yourself and for feeling this way.

the blanket is suddenly lifted from your head, momentarily blinding you with the overwhelming light that is your boyfriend, katsuki bakugou. a twinkle of concern lines his ruby eyes and you can see traces of his charcoal eyeliner that he usually smudges underneath his mask— he’s so beautiful but you’re afraid of the twitches of worry, afraid that he’s mad at you for being the way you are.

“hey honey,” bakugou hums, crouching to your level to cup your cheeks, stress bleeding from his body when you nuzzle into him.

izuku gives you a squeeze, an encouraging one and you nod. “hi,” is all you can muster, afraid of blurting the intrusive words that crackle across your brain.

katsuki sits back on his haunches, looking between you and his boyfriend before he attempts to kick off his shoes. the room is full of a thick, ugly quietness that you know you’re responsible for— they don’t have to say anything, you know that it’s you. because when you’re like this it’s hard for bakugou and midoriya to talk, afraid that they’ll say something to set you off and you afraid that they’ll leave if they knew how you really felt. how trapped and alone you felt inside, how the twisted darkness added tones to your vibes and dragged you down with every step that you took.

they don’t need to say it because it flows from your body like a rushing river and drowns them, fills their lungs and it’s your fault for infecting them with your own bitter taste of life.

“have you eaten?” the blonde of the two boys asks, looking you dead in the eye. you want to answer, but again the viscous back from earlier starts to flood through your body. you try to take care of yourself of these days where you feel it the hardest, but it’s difficult to move and to breathe— and the drive to complete even the simplest of tasks is barely ever there.

you move to speak, caught up in the thick smog of your own brain when izuku gives your body a squeeze and shakes his head, the forest of his hair brushing against your cheek. “you’ve had water, right?” izuku has no problem answering for you. “but nothing to eat,” he whispers, keeping his voice low as if to hide his worry from you— it’s light in his tone but tremors throughout the number one’s body. you feel sick for making him feel that way.

katsuki’s gaze shifts back from his boyfriend to you, his expression unreadable because he knows how you get if they worry too much about you. you’re thankful, partly for that at least, his blank face prevents your mind from reading too deep into things and blaming yourself for things out of your own control.

“‘m makin’ your favourite for dinner. you’ll eat it, no questions asked.” the explosive pro hero states firmly, rising from his place crouched down by your side, obviously not before thumbing over your cheeks to wipe away evidence of your dried tears. “gonna run you a bath too, damn nerd better get you upstairs and ready by the time it’s done.” deku’s chest rumbles with a light hearted chuckle beneath you, lifting the heavy weight of the air within the room— bakugou had always loved brashly, with a fiery intensity that hardly left room for the answer ‘no’, and while izuku was more tame, they balanced one another out in a way that felt more like a warm hug than a battle. they grounded you, in the best of ways.

true to his disgruntled words, your blonde headed boyfriend runs you a hot bath. you don’t miss the addition of lavender oil to the perfectly warm water, the baking soda which you’re sure he only knew to add because his mother had said it would remove the demon spawn toxins in his body. izuku is the one to help you strip, holds your hands as you kick off gross comfort clothes and folds them away, after pressing kisses to your groggy face and chin.

it’s almost funny to see the two biggest and beefiest pro heroes sit on your bathroom floor crossed legged and beside the tub— both of them taking up the majority of the room. you know for a fact that no one would believe the sight unless they saw it, but they’re there. both of them, izuku midoriya and bakugou katsuki are with you encompassed in the silence while you wash away the ugly words that plague your mind and fill the pores of your skin.

they’re still there.

even as sweet lavender water moves in soft waves over your bare body, while black ink moves in the same way across your brain— tattooing self-depreciating thoughts into every inch. you’re not worth their time, they say, you’re wasting it. because how could their precious time be put to good use if you’re taking it up, they could be saving people but instead your boyfriends are here, drowning in your own darkness.

they’re still fucking here.

when they could be out there saving the people who needed it, who were suffering out there in the world outside of your home.

and the suds against your body, the warm water sloshing over your thighs isn’t enough to get rid of the burning sensation of vile phrases printing themselves against your body and clouding every thought that you think. toxic, mean and nasty things you can’t scrub away— none of it is enough to make you feel like you deserve bakugou tenderly lathering you up with the rose scented soap his mother had sent you for christmas or the sips of cool water midoriya brings to your lips in order to prevent you from overheating in the steam of the bathroom.

deku catches the painful twist in your face, pausing his movements to study you. “whaddya need?” you need it to stop, to find something to replace the pain and doubts that fill you.

“water, hotter,” you croak quietly, tears building up in the base of your throat as katsuki catches on and flicks the tap for a stream of hot water to fill the tub. “please,”

they tell you to let them know when to stop if the heat gets too much, but the scalding water burns away any reminders of the self loathing you feel across every inch of your mind, your body and your soul. it stings at the darkness in a way that’s painfully soothing and maybe if you sink under— it could stop hurting completely. if you could slide deeper into the water, would the waves of darkness not crash so hard?

and then the damn breaks, like a tsunami the guilt and anguish you feel crashes over your body and takes control, leaving you fighting for oxygen in the form of your happiness.

everything that you’d been holding back flows freely in salty tears from tired eyes, scorching a path down the apples of your cheeks and mingling with the contents of the tub below. your boys, they don’t notice at first, how you cry and curl in on yourself until you think the world won’t notice you anymore but then just as they always do, they’re pulling you into their warmth and bubble of light— freeing you from black intrusive tendrils even if it means they have to crawl into the tub and wade their through the ocean you’ve made to set yourselves apart.

“don’t—!” you heave with an uneven voice, signs of you falling apart evident in every way. bakugou and deku pull away from you slowly, with dripping shirts and worry written across freckled faces and red eyes. they’re scared for you, hate seeing you force your feelings down and away from them. “please don’t touch me—you’ll—“

the water in the bathtub sloshes from where you retract from their touch, backing yourself up against the wall and away from your boys. “we’ll what?” izuku presses but only gently, keeping you afloat, stopping you from sinking and bakugou stays put in his place, letting the latter talk you down.

you shake your head, trying to think of the right words but it’s hard to, with the crashing waves heavy against your ears. how do you tell your lovers that everything hurts, to think and to feel, to live day by day. you don’t want to bother them with and an extra stress to their busy lives. but you can’t keep it in any longer, bursting at the seams. “you’ll drown. i-if i touch you, i’ll pull you under, you’ll drown with me and you won’t be able to breathe and all those horrible things that i think about will burn in your lungs until you give up fighting like me,” your tears and hiccups interrupt your words, but they listen. bakugou and deku, they listen and they stay.

“yn—“

“because if you do, then all that i feel will be a burden to you— i’ll break in ways that can’t be fixed and you’ll be forced to pick up the pieces and i’ll just be a burden,” you continue, not even pausing to take a breath while you continue to cry. “if you stay to pick up the pieces, you’ll be taken away from people who need you, who are worth saving, and can be helped and—“

you can’t recount how many nights, similar to this in which you wondered why and how two pro heroes could want and love you, why they dealt with your down days that sometimes outnumbered the ups— even if they’d shown you how much they cared, you couldn’t help but feel guilty as if your sadness took up their time to save someone else.

“you can be helped, yn. you don’t have to go what you’re going through alone, you’re worth the time and the effort of helping, no one deserves to suffer,” the green haired of your two boyfriends cuts through the tail ends of your words, still keeping distance until he knows it’s safe to touch you again. there is no look of condescending pity on his face, no sign to show you’ve pulled him into the dark of your mind. it’s just izuku, trying to help you pull through.

you look to katsuki hesitantly, he hasn’t said a word. “but i don’t want to be seen as...as weak, or to worry you because i can’t get out of my own head—“

“y’not fuckin’ weak, we’d never think that of you. we see you try to hide your pain, pretend things don’t get to you when they do. but fuckin’ handlin’ things on ya own can make y’stronger than any two heroes combined,” a look of anger flashes across his features, finer with age and tired with work. but bakugou isn’t angry with you, but with himself for leading you to believe that you were an extra weight on his shoulders. both of their shoulders. “yer not gonna get rid of us or scare us away, we love ya, we’re here for ya ‘n if it’s help that you need or think yer not worthy of, we’ll find some. it’s okay t’ask for help.”

maybe it’s hearing it from someone else, that your pain and your depression is valid, that you’re not an extra weight on the people you love that allows you to come up from a tar-like ocean for fresh air in your lungs, for the waves to calm and the storm raging in your mind to soothe. maybe it’s the two of your boyfriends being there for you despite the fear that you’d scare them away with not being okay that washes away some of the awful things you think.

you know that their support won’t make things go away over night, that it will take time for you to heal but for now you can keep your head above the water just long enough to breathe.

“can i touch you now? is it okay?” deku asks, feeling less distant from you than at the start of the day, but as your body shakes with the last of your tears all you manage is a nod before the number one hero is pulling you into his chest from the tub and the number two is wrapping a towel and his arms around you.

you sit sandwiched between the two, they keep you at the surface— holding you tight while you let out what you’ve been holding back. “we can get some help if y’want it, the doctors...therapy might be nerve wrackin’...scary even, but it can help and we’ll be there every single step of the fuckin’ way,” katsuki reasures you with pets to your head, rocking you back and forth on your bathroom floor, steam clinging to the air that you can finally breathe.

izuku nods along in agreement, pressing kisses to your wet hairline. “we’ll be here. you won’t be alone.”

the murkiness of the water in your mind starts to clear, but only just— their warmth starts to push through the clouds like sunshine brushing against your skin. a light to the dark that's plagued your every waking moment, the waves no longer crash and destroy but instead lap comfortingly at your painful thoughts and tame them just enough for you to have a moment of clarity.

you don’t have to be alone or millions of miles away, you deserve the hands of your loved ones that offer you help instead of pushing them away. the process of healing and things like therapy or meds will be hard sometimes, but katsuki and izuku will be here by your side, to help you manage days where darkness rolls in waves that hurt and help you breathe once again.

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shadowsingersmate · 3 years

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Not requested but I’ve come across a lot of fica where azriel is being distant and doesn’t communicate with the reader (which I absolutely love cause I’m a drama and angst enthusiast) BUT! I wanted to make a fic where the reader actually tries to talk to azriel and he listens and tries to help them. So without farther adue hope you enjoy!

Warnings: depressive thought, mention of suicide, self desperation.

It was happening again. You thought you had gotten better, you thought that after ten years with the love of your life, your mate -Azriel- you would get better. But that was not the case at all, not only you didn’t found peace but your mind started battling with you harder, the force of your depressive thoughts would never fail to crush every bit of confidence and happiness you had worked so hard to built.

You knew you had to talk to someone, no matter how hard it was, you knew you had to open up. It was hard, especially as bottling up your emotion had become a habit. However, if you ever wanted to get better you had to talk to someone and you had decided that the only person you trusted with this piece of information was Azriel.

He was currently in his office doing some paperwork, you stalked right outside the door and stayed there, hesitating. Maybe he was busy, maybe you shouldn’t talk to him right now.

𝑀𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑖𝑚 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑏𝑤𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑙? 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑎ℎ𝑖𝑡, 𝑛𝑜𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛, 𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑥𝑦𝑔𝑒𝑛. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒, 𝑔𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑧𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑙 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒. 𝐷𝑖𝑒. 𝐷𝑖𝑒. 𝐷𝑖𝑒

You clawed at the skin in your palm as an attempt to shut down that malicious part of your brain. You raised your fist, you were ready. You were….

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦? 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦? 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙?

You suddenly lost every bit of nerve and lowered your fist. He would think you were ungrateful.

You were just about to leave when the door opened suddenly revealing your mate. He looked tired, but not as exhausted as he usually looked.

“What’s wrong love?” He asked. You could see from he look on his face that he knew something was up.

You were about to wave his question off with your usual ‘I’m fine’ and a weak smile but you had made a promise to yourself. You needed help and this was your one chance.

“Actually. Can- can I bother you for a bit? It won’t take long” you could feel the anxiety creeping “of course, come in” his eyebrows furrowed worryingly

You took a couple of deep breaths or at least you tried too. He gestured for you to sit down but you shook your head and he nodded sitting on his chair. You could feel his eyes burning your figure and your hands started shaking uncontrollably.

“What happened?” He asked and without taking a single second to rethink you decision you lashed out. “Lately I’ve been having this problem. Actually is not really lately. I- I’ve been dealing with this since before I met you, since I can remember and I- I thought it was getting better and that I could deal with this on my own but I’m kinda struggling so” at his point you were pacing, fidgeting with your hands, your voice breaking with each word. For a moment you contemplating glancing down at your seated mate but you knew that if you so much as tried to look at him you would completely lost your nerve, so you continued.

“I don’t want you to think that you are not enough for me, or that you ever did anything to make me sad, or rethink my worth and everything, it’s really not your fault and I really don’t want to wasn’t your time and bother you but I- I think I really need help Azriel” you took a deep breath.

Azriel listened to you, pure shock and sadness washing though him. He couldn’t stand it, you looked so nervous to talk. For a moment he really though he did something to make you not to trust him. “Love, what kind of problem?” He had some ideas himself but he wasn’t sure and he wanted to be sure about what you were dealing with, he wanted to help you with everything he had.

You sighted “it’s that, my mind sometimes can be a little too loud. Umhh it- I will just hear this voice - which I know it sounds crazy- but it keeps telling my that” tears started blurring your vision but you went on “I don’t- that- I-I” you couldn’t utter the words, you really couldn’t.

You took another deep breath, then another, trying to calm yourself, trying to avoid the panick attach you could feel to starting getting too close. “It keeps telling me that I’m worthless, that I don’t deserve anything, that I have no one and that I’m alone and that nobody really cares or will ever care cause I don’t deserve it and I- I know it’s partially true but I-“ and then it hit you, everything just slumped to you and your sobs got louder.

You unconsciously moved your hand to cover your mouth to muffle the sounds (as you always did when azriel was home). In a matter of seconds Azriel was besides you, his arms wrapping a round you, his hand stroking your back gently, whispering sweet nothings into your hair.

“Baby please. I know what is like. You sound perfectly reasonable” that was all he could say for now. He was devastated, the only thing that kept him from tearing up was the urge to be strong for you, to be strong enough to help you.

You stood like this for a while, he had let you cry and let your emotions out for as long as you whised. When he realized that you were calm enough he slid his hand under you chin pushing it upwards “look at me, you are 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑔 to me, you are everything I could ever wish for and more. I love you, I’m by your side, I will always be by your side. Please, just please believe me. I love you, you’re not worthless you have helped me, you’re ere the one to bring light into my life when I was at my lowest please” he couldn’t help it, he was crying.

You buried you head into his chest again, not being able to say anything. You felt a shift in the room and when you looked up you realized that Azriel had winnowed you to your shared bedroom.

“I love you, there’s nothing that I could ever want more than you” he said stroking your hair softly.

“Thank you Azriel. I- I just want you to know that this is not your fault at all. You are everything I could ever wish for as well and I love you” you said between sobs. Azriel nodded in response before tightening his grip.

Right there and then you both had realized that no matter what you had each other. That you had someone to turn to, that you would never be alone ever again because you had each other.

#a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #acotar #azriel #shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar fluff #acomaf #acowar #azriel acosf #acosf #azriel imagine

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Dark Side Of The Moon Ch. 1 - Dark! Loki x Reader

Chapter 1: Speak to Me/Breathe

Chapter Summary: The last thing you remember was being mortally wounded, now having woken up in a completely different reality. And you’d soon need to face the horrors of who would seek you out...

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Suicide Attempt, Graphic Descriptions of Death, Dark! Loki, Spoiler you kinda die but kinda don't

Words: approx. 3800

[Story Masterlist]

Masterlist to my other works right ->Here<-

Lyrics used from the Song: Kina ft. Snow - Get You The Moon

“Y/N, look out!”

The piercing sounds of gunfire nearby made your eardrums ring, yet Steve’s words got through to you nonetheless.

But you were determined to end this, here and now.

Tony was the first one at your side, catching you in his arms before you hit the floor. However, you could only do so much as whimper a silent apology to your friends, who now had to live with the consequences of your actions.

“Why did you do this?!” you heared Dr. Strange yell as he unsucessfully tried to close the deep cut in your gut. Too afraid of what you might see if you’d look at the wound, your glare was locked on the beautiful sky - yes, the sun was almost setting, and it was somehow calming to you that this would most likely the last thing you’d set eyes upon.

“There was no reason to be this reckless!” Steve followed close by, his scolding soon turning into desperate screams. “Fuck. FUCK!” If Captain America himself is cussing, then it’s as severe as you thought it to be.

Your wounds were lethal, that much was sure.

And of course they were right, as always: You didn’t need to play the martyr here, throwing yourself into danger to shield your comrades - well, you did anyway, and there was no going back now.

On the other hand, they were the ones taking a gravely depressed widow onto a dangerous mission. But you did not want your precious friends to blame themselves for that, for it was your own wish.

Dying in an honorable battle was what would send you to Valhalla, after all - where you could finally meet him again, hopefully.

The only one not having spoken a single word up until now was Thor, very well knowing what all this was about. It was no secret that you were sick and tired of how your life had turned out to be, ever since the Infinity War.

You felt empty. Incomplete. Desperate. Hallow.

The God of Thunder had turned his back to you, yet there was still agony radiating from that already broken man. Your almost-brother-in-law was the only one who could possibly understand your pain. Thor Odinson had lost everything: His homeland, most of his tribe, his family and best friend - and soon, you as well.

All this time, you wanted to be strong. For them, who had also lost so much!

But at some point things just got out of control.

“You can’t leave me alone, Lady Y/N! Not you too!” Thor finally whimpered as he fell onto his knees, softly squeezing your hand. “You’re the only thing I have left from him!

So this is what dying feels like.

The bloodloss caused your limps to go limp, and when the pain began to stop and got replaced by numbness, you knew it would soon be time. Your brain lost the remaining control over your body, and you found yourself encoated by pure nothingless.

Only able to listen by their screams, cries and kind words - at least you’d die surrounded by those marvellous people. It sure was a privilege knowing them.

You weren’t afraid - all in all, it had been a good life, after all.

There were no regrets.

“Shh” you hushed them, using your last bit of strenght so your lips formed somewhat of a most broken smile, forming words between gurling on your own blood.

“It’s alright, I-” you cut yourself off, trying to scream as a last, torturing pain shot through your whole system. “I-I-I’ll-- meet him again...you know?”

“I’m no-not strong enough, please...” Thor cried out like you had never seen him before, feeling a tide of guilt wash over you. “Loki wouldn’t have wanted you to go like this! He told me to protect you, so you could lead a long and happy life!”

Without him? Impossible!

“You gave me a shoulder when I needed it

You showed me love when I wasn’t feeling it

You helped me fight when I was giving in

And you made me laugh when I was losing it”

Yes, indeed: You had been to selfish to keep on living just for the sake of your friends, burdening them with yet another loss.

“I-I don’t wanna go...this was a mistake, I- please...”

How badly did you want to soothe them right now, telling them that everything would be alright and you’d meet them again, eventually?

It was too late now.

Your body gave up earlier than your soul, which had endured and kept on all this time, even in it’s shattered state.

And when Tony’s palm gently closed your eyes, making it easier for you to embrace the cold darkness, the last thing you heared before your senses gave up were startling you enough to almost bring you back to life:

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

That voice was familiar, yet it didn’t belong to Loki. Dr. Strange, no- Stephen Strange, your friend and mentor of the mystic arts.

“I don’t have the heart to allow this to happen” he stated frantic, making you wonder if that was a dream of your hypoxic brain or if you were still able to hear them? People tend to say the sense of hearing dies last, after all. “She still has a pulse, even though weak. Hurry!”

Their voices were far in the back, words way too far out of your reach to understand. As if you were an outsider, only observing from a distance.

Your friends were fighting, or maybe discussing something. That much you could make up from their tone, but your mind was too exhausted to make sense of anything.

It felt as if you were already without a body, floating through the unknown like a feather in the wind - not knowing where fate would lead you to next.

Everything was numb - even your pain. It was soothing, somehow.

Because you had been a ghost way before, when you were alive even. An empty shell of a human, acting like they weren’t dead on the inside.

Coherent thoughts, memories, emotions...even the fractions of your own past you had both collected and surpressed. Right now, they were all restrained and pushed far in the back of your very core, where you were finally able to evaluate them without earthly bondings.

Was this heaven, hell - or maybe both or none or them?

____

"Be aware of the limits this tactic has. It’s a very drastic measurement that can most likely be used only once in your lifetime, and it is not guaranteed to work either.”

Stephen’s voice again. You recall that scene, it’s been long in the past...but why are you remembering it now?

Yes, this was familiar. All of you had been invited to the Sanctum Sanctorum, a fitting place to teach about this ancient knowledge.

You clearly remembered that Loki was absent in any of the Doctor’s lessons, feeling that a “puny human” was “unworthy” to teach him, and “it would be nothing new anyway, Y/N, I am a god and the way better wizard, I know it all already.”

What he was about to tell you back then was some kind of crazy emergency-plan: Dangerous, unpredictable and escpecially untested.

“I’ve only read about this tactic up until now” the mage pondered loudly as he picked at his goatee, earning some childish giggles by you and Tony. “So I cannot promise that it will function as planned. The Multiverse is dangerous and acts in unforseen ways.”

“Very reassuring” you had mocked at the time, not really biding the topic any importance or thought ever again.

But now...

The trick sounded way simpler than it actually was, being as complex as it is only natural for something like that, costing a huge prize at that:

Dr. Strange would send any of you who were on the brink of death through a portal, thus leading you into a random dimension of this endless Multiverse.

That dimension, in which your alternate self has most likely died, will gladly accept you as a “replacement”. Some kind of what Peter Parker called a “glitch” will occur, instantly healing all of your wounds - even fatal ones, so you could remain in the timeline that was missing you.

Yet the consequences of this maneuvre would be unspeakable.

_____

“That bastard...” you gnarled internally, finally realizing why you would remember this of all things after apparently having just taken your dying breath. “He didn’t just-”

Eventually, you realized having escaped death’s grip, slowly beginning to regain your senses - yet still refusing to open your eyes.

“I don’t want to leave this place. My friends -- will I never see them again? No. NO! Life is meaningless. Just let me be with him. Please! Loki...”

“’Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

‘Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you

And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you”

Another part of Strange’s lesson echoed in your head, revealing that you were now in fact up on your own.

“Not even I can tell just how much this timeline will differ from what you know. Of course I will search for you right away, but considering the countless possibilities, it might very well be that we’ll never meet again. But you’re alive, and hopefully safe. That’s all that counts.”

Grass tickled your palm as you twitched your fingers, testing the limits of your body, which had literally just tricked death. Suddenly, you felt a stinging pain, almost like lightning boring into your temportal. The origin of this pain remained unknown.

When you finally found the courage to sit up, your flesh still feeling as heavy as lead, you realized that Stephen was most likely wrong: He assumed that you’d find yourself in a place you had a deep connection with, yet that place was unrecognizable to you.

Then why were you here of all places?

Actually, this location was incredibly beautiful, managing to stop the aching in your heart, if only for the fraction of a second.

Your former lover would’ve loved this place.

“'Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

'Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you

And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you”

Even though not all of Dr. Strange’s speculations were correct, you decided to stick to his emergency plan: Find as much information about this “new” earth as possible, point out the differences to your initial one, and then contact the Dr. Strange of this dimension.

Two mages working on crossing each other’s path would at least higher the stakes to find your original timeline.

Well, no one could guarantee you that the Avenger’s existed on this timeline, and they could as well be evil in this one...what a weird and horrifying imagination.

Knowledge really was power - that was another thing Loki had taught you a long time ago, and it would prove valuable, especially in this situation.

As you wandered this surprisingly extensive garden and getting lost in admiring the beauty of it’s nature, you found yourself devoid of any weapons. That fact made you slightly uncomfortable, even though your current location seemed absent of any ememies, making a peaceful impression.

Seemingly there weren’t any evil schemes going on in this dimension.

It basically were only minor differences, at least that was your first impression. At least there were no changes in natural laws or something as big.

“I miss the days where magic and science didn’t mix up like this” you whispered, mainly to yourself as you examined the new, large scar on your abdomen - the only memory left of your “almost-suicide-mission”.

To be more precize: The only thing left from your former life, now leaving you able to start completely anew, wether you wanted it or not.

Sun had almost drowned behind the horizon, diving the sky in a deep orange. Your eyes were still adjusting, yet you could’ve sworn to see the silhouette of a person. It was far away, at the entrance on what appeared to be a palace belonging to this garden.

Apparently, you had invaded someone’s propery, and you could only pray that it was noone important - or worse, a owner who would defend their ground with violence.

You don’t think your earth had a place this...flashy. The castle was way bigger than any you knew on the other timeline. The first difference you had figured out, yet it was only a minor one.

Maybe the headache you were experiencing was from someone making you out as an intruder?

One thing was sure: You had been noticed, and you immediately were on high alert.

Where to run to or at least hide?

There was a maze made out of bushed parting you and the palace, and since there was no better option, you’d enter it. Talking to that person and convincing them of your goodwill would make it way easier to gain information.

“You may come out” you declared as you made your way, unable to evaluate the situation properly. “I mean no harm. I’m just lost.”

Was it dangerous to be here? Obviously, you were not allowed to be here anyway.

However, when you had finally found the escape to that maze, only several hundret meters away from the building, the person was already gone.

Had your mind just played a dirty trick on you again? Wouldn’t be the firt time it’d betray you like this...

No. You clearly felt someone watching you.

And as soon as your senses had sharpened to your usual self again, you instantly jumped back, gaining some distance to the Citauri that had just appeared behing you.

Shit! You weren’t ready to fight again just yet. Not like this.

And where one of those vile beasts were, many others would appear. You knew that much.

Had Thanos invaded this earth? Oh god, not again...not him. You were so damn tired of those fights, escapes and especially the pain that always inevitable followed after.

Just when it was about to swing it’s weapon at your head, you felt dizziness crawl up your nerves, making you collapse on the floor. Lucky for you, because only like that, the stike didn’t hit you.

Even though having been taught basic magic skills, that certain kind of spell you were unable to fight against - only true masters of the art were able to perform a sorcery that well.

The Chitauri had left your line of sight, yet the other figure from before reappeared in a pace so fast that your eyes couldn’t follow. They sweeped you off the floor just before your head would meet the hard pavement.

“And now you will answer to me, shapeshifter.”

Once again someone robbed you of the control of your life and body, leaving you without a free will.

How long had you been passed out now? You didn’t know and honestly didn’t care either - since you had nothing to lose anymore.

In the meantime, the owner of those lands had dismissed his guards, not wanting to be disturbed as he was left alone with you in the giant throne room.

The apparent ruler of that unclassified location was sitting on his throne, warily observing you from above. You were lying to his feet at the bare floor, every piece of clothing robbed from you and restrained by a pile of chains. He watched every twitch, all breaths you’d take or groans escaping your mouth until you would finally awake.

Oh, how you really were just like he remembered you, with every little detail he had adored.

At long last, you would finally open your lids again, blinking heavily as you took in your surroundings - but when your eyes met certain emerald ones, they immediately sprung wide open, the emptiness in your heart being filled with all kinds of emotions once again.

The man - it was him!

“'Cause you are, you are

Oh, you are

You are'Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

'Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you”

“Loki!” you screamed from the bottom of your heart. Without a single coherent thought, your legs would carry on their own as your weakened body stumbled in their attempt to climb those stairs.

For both of you, that momend of reuinion had waited far too long.

The god was temptated to approach you, his trembling hands already reaching out to catch your fragile body should you fall - but suddenly, you felt his knuckles digging into your cheekbone.

“Stay away from me, you fake!” Loki yelled furiously as you hit the ground, rubbing your cheek as you tried to understand what just happened.

Yeah, that sure brought you back to reality again, after such a short high.

Right.

That isn’t your Earth - and not your Loki either.

You couldn’t even be sure this world’s Y/N and Loki had the same kind of relationship the two of you had back in your timeline! The only thing you knew was that he knew you from his past, but as it seemed not pleasantly.

Now that you looked closely, he even had less scars, almost looking untouched and pure - like a true, invincible god. Maybe life here had treat him well, unlike his counterpart from your timeline.

He was still wearing that excessive outfit with the golden horns, and much to both your amazement and fear, it seemed that he still possessed theTesseract.

Could it be...

Before you could connect the dots, the king would soon interrupt your string of thoughts. “Drop that disguise, scum!”

Loki kept on degrading you as he paced in front of his throne, brow sinking deeper and deeper. “Don’t think you can somehow appeal to those pathetic sentiments” he explained, “I’ve freed myself from them long ago. Just stop making a fool out of yourself, and maybe I’ll reward it with a quicker death.”

Yet when he saw your most innocent smile, even this Loki would stand frozen in place, deeply in shock.

How he yearned to see it, all those years - to tell you just how sorry he was for everthing he’s done.

No.

He had left all of this behind - to claim his birthright and rule.

“I-I’m deeply so-sorry...that is a mistake” you whimmered with a broken voice, wiping a tear of joy out of your face. “My feelings overwhelmed me, I guess. I’ve never thought to see you again, even if you’re not the same Loki I know.”

Still cowering on the floor, you looked up to him with compassionate eyes, as if he had not just beat you before. You did not dare to make any more, wanting for Loki to try and understand himself.

“A variant?” he gnarled, just like you did when he realized.

No force in the world had allowed him to access other parts of the Multiverse, no matter how desperately he tried - and now fate had literally dropped you in front of his door.

Loki balled his fists in anger, making you flinch as you anticipated yet another blow.

“Dear, I-”

“Shut up!” the God of Mischief shoutet, causing his magic to break free. The walls of the palace were shaking, most windows and furniture having been destroyed. “It’s no use, woman!”

That man was way more powerful than the “puny god” people called names back on Asgard - and his sheer might made you quiver.

Just what kind of monster had he become, and why?

“L-Loki, please...” you tried to appeal to the last bit of humanity he might possess, and your begging made his guts twist in agony. “You’re scaring me.”

“You better be scared!” he exclaimed, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to look at him. “No matter what disgracefully weak “alter ego” of me you knew, I am built different. Stronger. Better. Everyone in the Nine Realms fears me, and I desire nothing else! Everything distracting me from fulfilling my destiny and reign over you dull creatures I got rid of. You’re nothing more than an insect I might as well crush right here and now!”

Choking on a sob, he tried to relish that last chance he got to admire you, smell you, touch what he cannot possess...no matter how many universes there may be.

A flood of tears cracked down your face at his words, yet you couldn’t be helped.

No matter what he would say - he looked just like him.

And that was enough for you to feel alive after such a long time of being a walking dead. There had to be a reason you landed right at his home, of all places in this universe. You had a connection, both of you felt it ever since you had been transported here.

"May I ask-” you disrupted yourself, awaiting some reaction. But the conqueror had seemed to have spoken what he thought important to say, not declining your question at all.

Whenever he seemed fit, he could disintegrate you - yet right now, this situation was way too intriguing.

“What happened to myself in this reality?”

Loki swallowed harshly, letting go off of you as he threw you down the stairs. He wouldn’t even bide you one look as he tried to surpress the turmoil of emotion still running through his veins, desperately keeping it from breaking free.

The outcome would always be the same: Suffering, for both of you.

“And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you.”

He only ever wanted it to stop hurting. To become unfeeling, since love had always been poisoning his mind, sometimes being gifted with it even though he knew he would never be worthy of anything else than disgust and hate.

And that contradiction caused him to throw away anything good that happened to him, through you. Let it be taken away from him just shortly after finally learning to remotely enjoy.

You deserved the truth, a reason to hate him even more than you probably already did.

Had you only come to his salvation earlier, then he might have been helped - yet now, he was beyond redemption. Broken. Sick. Dangerous.

And when the Chitauri dragged you away, his last words let your blood run cold:

“She died through my hands.”

_____

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dokidokey · 4 years

Text

trace in the raindrops

summary: your relationship with keigo has been rocky for the past few weeks and your mind hasn’t been quiet in so long. what the both of you would give to take some things back.

pairings: takami keigo / hawks x reader

bingo slot: never got to say goodbye

genre: angst

warning/s: swearing, insecurities, depression, blood, death

word count: 4,989

notes: sixth bingo piece yay! i needed to get this out i’m sorry ehe if you’re uncomfortable with the topics this story is going to discuss, please don’t read. my event masterlist can be found HERE.

Raindrops are pattering against the window as you trace the frazzled lines it makes from the other side, awed by the way a droplet hits the glass like an explosion, breaking apart into tinier little drops like frail branches. You force yourself to listen to the rain as it rages outside, blocking out the soft padding of Takami’s feet on the carpet. You don’t want to see him go with this hell of a storm going on.

“Hey,” his murmur battles with the harsh noises outside, and you tilt your head just the slightest to let him know you’re listening. “I’ll be back soon.”

You nod curtly, not bothering to say anything because you’ve been like this for the past two days, gazing back at the gray scenery on the other side of the window pane. You’re expecting he will at least go over to you to pat your head like he did before, or maybe kiss you if you are lucky, but no. The muffled click of your bedroom door closing, soon followed by the rattle of the front door, is the only thing you got.

There’s a drawn out exhale from you, the tips of your fingers leaving blurred lines as it cascades down the glass along with the rain, settling in a fist on the sill as the ache in your chest feels like it’s crumpling your heart. Cheers to his girl friend for specifically asking for him to pick her up in this weather, and cheers to your boyfriend for agreeing instantaneously with a laugh as he gently pried you off him earlier.

The universe just isn’t with you today, huh? At least the mad pelting of the water seems in time with your heart, beating erratically against your ribcage. How you wish it’s caused by Keigo’s blinding smile or his crazy jokes, but it isn’t. You don’t even remember the last time he did that. You don’t remember the last time he faced you with the brightest and most genuine smile.

At least you get a glimpse of it when he’s with his friends. Right? That’s enough, right? At least somewhere outside the walls of your home, Keigo has a place where he is happy and truly himself. Even if it is not with you anymore.

You don’t know when the prickling feeling of jealousy, or maybe it was envy? You aren’t sure, it feels more like a mixture of both － a heterogeneous one too, so that is why you can’t seem to drown out the feeling. Something heavy settled on the pits of your heart and it grew its roots there, becoming one with your veins. You aren’t sure when you started feeling that, but when you understood the fact that your Keigo isn’t the same Keigo to his friends, that was when you welcomed the feeling in your heart, letting it grow and bloom inside you.

You never told Takami though, too afraid that in the early haze of his love for you, he would drop his friends and stick by your side. You’d probably be happy, not until you drown yourself of the guilt that he chose you over them － over the people he’s a different kind of happy with. You’re willing to destroy yourself inside to keep that little something of real happiness for him.

It’s not that his friends intentionally hurt your feelings because when they pass you both together, they would smile at you or nod in your direction. But there are some though, who goes straight to clapping Keigo in the back without acknowledging your existence. It made you feel small. What’s worse and caused the prominent bitter taste in your mouth was that Keigo never bothered to introduce you. He’ll go on talking to his friend, or friends, and you’re left standing beside him awkwardly, not sure if you should look at them or not, or kindly excuse yourself away.

There’s a bright flash in your line of sight, electric roots crawling down the gray clouds to find a home on the ground, quickly followed by a giant clap of thunder that shakes the walls. It resonates in time with your hurting heart, the drizzling rain like the salty tears slowly painting a shiny streak on your cheek.

It scares you how aware you are of yourself. The self-destruction is just on the very tips of your fingers. Only a little more, you keep chanting in your mind like a broken cassette tape as you push yourself upright. The digital clock bleeds the numbers 03:18 AM in bright red, creating a crimson glow on the surface of your table.

You didn’t mind that there’s a pounding ache blossoming on the back of your head. It lessens your guilt somehow. To you, at least, it feels like the proper apology Keigo deserves. You’re not even sure anymore if you’re guilty because you refused to answer his questions earlier or because you let the same insecurities get to you again.

Class ended early and as always, Takami is waiting outside your classroom. It takes a lot of effort to pull your cheeks up to give him a tight-lipped smile. His hands are gentle as he pats your head, and your heart constricts at the action, because your mind has been plagued with thoughts that made Keigo cry when you opened up to him. The feel of his hands cradling your cheek that day still lingers, the ghost of a promise that seems to be fading as time passes by.

He takes your bag in his and slings an arm loosely around your shoulder, steering you clear of the swarm of bodies littering the hallway. You’re floating again as he leads you, your surroundings turning into a blur as you let your thoughts drown you away.

You learned nothing today. Your professor had called you twice on two different occasions, and the embarrassment of not being able to answer his questions just added to the monstrous pile of negativity lounging in your head. Your mind keeps flitting back to your boyfriend, who you very much love. You think about how disconnected you are to him sometimes, more so to the world, and it feels like you’re taking his love for granted because you don’t know how to return the same intensity of his feelings.

You’re uptight, too. He didn’t really say that, but you know he thinks you are, because you are. You’re not in the same level of fun as his friends. Hell, you know your fun and their fun aren’t synonymous. You’re so different from Takami and his friends. It is like, if you look at a chart depicting Keigo, everything is stellar except you. His standards drastically dropped when you came into the picture

It further proves just how much you don’t deserve Keigo.

You’re shaken awake when Takami’s hands abruptly leave yours, caused by the force of a body colliding with your boyfriend. It was the girl who asked him to pick her up in the middle of the sky’s wailing two weeks ago, and your heart is rolling down your body towards the ground as Keigo’s hands swiftly latch on her arms, steadying her.

“Oh! Sorry Kei!” She giggles, and if the sound is a thing, it’d be the blinding sunshine. It tinkles like a lone wind chime, the melody being carried by the wind like a frail dandelion. Her eyes are twinkling as she takes a step back, gaze fixed on Takami, the brightest smile you’ve ever seen adorning her beautiful face.

Kei. It’s a cute nickname, you will admit. You never had the privilege of calling him nicknames though. And the fact that she’s standing there in front of your boyfriend, with you, his girlfriend, by his side, and uttering that word is just. . . She’s so much more than you, and jealousy sinks its green claws into your heart like a fork to a toaster as the pain surges in your chest like high voltage.

You’re not existing in Keigo’s world once again. You stand at his side, panicking a little because what are you supposed to do? Look at them? Smile at his friend? Make yourself known? Definitely not.

When Keigo wraps an arm around you again, you’re startled. Your head bumps on his chin when you abruptly look up from your phone, and there’s a soft hiss of pain from him.

“Sorry,” you squeak, quickly pocketing the device on your hand and cradling his face. “Sorry, sorry. Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head and you notice how long his hair is now. The soft tuff of ash blonde is kissing the back of his neck and without thinking, your hand moves to feel his hair. There’s a melancholic look swimming in your eyes as you do.

Keigo kisses your forehead then, and suddenly, your heart is in your throat. It was enough to make you cry, but you tell yourself no, you can’t cry, because when you cry, Keigo will ask questions. Questions mean answers, and your answer is his friends. All of them. How the mere thought of his friends break your heart so bad. How even the sight of them makes you feel so worthless in comparison.

You aren’t ready to tell him that, and you’re afraid you never will be.

During the car ride home, he keeps asking you if you’re okay. Are you sick? You don’t know. Maybe you are. Sick of his friends, sick of how they make you feel. Sick of this world. Sick, sick, sick. Sick in the fucking head for being like this. Why aren’t you like a normal person with a normal brain with normal feelings? Were those too much to ask? Was it that hard to give you that?

All you give Keigo are shrugs and shakes of your head and silent whispers of denial. Eventually, he grew tired of asking and of your worthless answers, releasing an annoyed huff and scrunching his eyebrows together in irritation.

There’s a bubbling guilt brewing in you from his reaction, and out of the blue, you wrap an arm around his and ask, “Are you mad?”

His expression doesn’t change as he shakes his head no, but the way he shrugs off your touch is enough answer for you. He is quiet for the rest of the day and his irritation sticks to him like a leech, seeming to suck him dry of his love for you as he didn’t even bother to bid you good night when he went to bed.

It all feels too fast, too much of a whirlwind. You feel like a candle nearing its end, your flame dangerously close to the other end of the wick.

The guilt of making Keigo feel bad is perched heavily on your shoulder. There’s an unbelievably massive emptiness inside you as you realize you’re just another version of Atlas, carrying the world alone. It’s insanely frightening that somehow, in some way, Keigo is your world. You’re carrying him and all his feelings and everything in your hands, and you can only take so much what with your thoughts piercing you like fire-tipped arrows.

So your way of forgiving yourself is this: depriving yourself of sleep. Maybe you won’t eat the whole day tomorrow too to make the guilt vanish like it’s never even there. Your hand is absolutely numb as you force yourself to move it. There’s only one last paragraph left of your homework and as you come to end it with a period, a relieved sigh bubbles out your lips and your head smack down harshly on the table, eyesight spinning.

By the time a hand is soothingly rubbing your back and another one is shaking you awake, your digital clock glares 04:02 AM to you. Keigo pushes stray hairs out of your face as you blink at him wearily.

“Come to bed,” he murmurs, and you revel in the softness of his words, the gentleness of his touch. There are tears brimming behind your closed eyelids as you lean in on his touch. When Keigo laces his fingers with yours to help you up, you oblige. When he tucks you in and wraps an arm around your waist, you smile, a lone tear trickling on your temple.

You’d sacrifice endless sleepless nights for this kind of affection again. If all this is caused by Keigo’s drowsy state, it’s okay, you won’t complain. At least like this, in the quiet of your home and the chaos in your head, you found a little solace, even just for the meantime.

Your spacing out during lectures is taking its toll. Yesterday, when your professor suddenly announced a pop quiz, the number and equations on your paper didn’t make any sense. You failed the quiz and, today in history, you fail another pop quiz. The nearing exams don't calm your frazzled state of mind. The constant fights with Keigo is only adding up to your stress and you’re not sure where to go anymore.

You find him unfair. In times like this that you and him aren’t on good terms, he has his friends to run to. You? What about you? You have nothing except him, and it’s sad to think that you can’t be honest of the one person closest to you. It’s heartbreaking that he’s also the cause of your constant sadness.

You appreciate Keigo’s efforts, really. There’s nothing like the way your heart swells whenever he approaches you to try and mend whatever it is that’s broken between you, but the swelling of your heart causes your throat to close up, and he’s left with choked breaths and stuttered out words. In the end, he let it be.

It’s a Saturday and the exams are over, and you sleep in just for today, trying to catch up on the consecutive all-nighters you pulled to study that didn’t help you out in the end, because most of your answers are just blank spaces on the paper. It’s late and sunny, the window to your right cresting slanted patterns on the wooden floorboards.

The bathroom door opens and comes out a freshly showered Takami, drying his hair with a towel and clad in denim. He halts as he sees you awake, but continues just as quick to pull out a shirt from his cabinet.

“We’re going out today, the guys and I,” he informs you in a cold voice, and it’s like being pricked by the sharpest icicle. He doesn’t bother looking at you as he puts his shirt on and grabs his spare keys for the front door. “I’ll be out late so keep the door locked while I’m gone.”

The heaviness in your chest is unmatched by Keigo’s ignorance and icy attitude as he lets himself out of your shared bedroom without another glance. You try to convince yourself that no, he just needs to get something outside and he’ll come back to bid you goodbye, maybe even kiss you or at least pat your head, but you can’t stomach the chilling sound of the door slamming shut in this eerily quiet house.

You didn’t bother getting up to eat, proceeding to just sleep and hoping your slumber would slowly dissipate the clawing jealousy and envy brooding in your chest. You wake up some time at night with the constant buzzing of your phone. You’re greeted by numerous texts from Rumi, a close friend of yours.

[rumi 08:17 pm] y/n i swear to fucking god is this your boyfriend

[rumi 08:17 pm] 927482.jpg

[rumi 08:17 pm] im going to break this mans neck y/n im telling you

[rumi 08:18 pm] RESPOND Y/N WHERE ARE YOU

[rumi 08:18 pm] it really IS your fucking boyfriend

[rumi 08:19 pm] whos that bitch on his lap

[rumi 08:19 pm] y/n if you dont respond asap im dragging these two by their necks outside

[rumi 08:20 pm] Y/N I SWESR WHERE ARE TOH RESPONS TI MY TEXTS FFS

Your heart is mad against your chest as it beats erratically, dainty fingers shaking as it taps on the attachment Rumi sent you. You have to increase your phone’s brightness because all you can see are the neon lights in the background but alas, after the settings panel lowered, there he is, with the same girl sitting on his lap.

“O-oh,” your breath stutters. You stare at the photo longer, hoping that it will magically transform into another man’s face because hell, that cannot be your Keigo. No. But it is him. That’s the same shirt he was wearing when you woke up. The way his eyes are shining and the quirky smile on his face is a clear giveaway that yes, it really is your boyfriend. You don’t miss the hand lazily draped over the small of her back.

That is the same hand that used to pat your head, rub your back, comb through your hair. That is the same hand that used to hold yours, although you can’t remember when was the last time.

Your chest physically aches at the thought of Keigo in there, with her, without you. He’s out there and you’re here after he left you with nothing. He has some audacity. And he’s going to come home to you in, say, three or four hours? For what?

But hey, who says he will come home tonight anyway?

The first thought finds it home inside your brain immediately, quickly followed by more as they try to take up the spaces in your head. What if Keigo doesn’t come home? Would he kiss her? Is he cheating? Does he love her? Is she better? What is wrong with you? What happens if Keigo doesn’t come back tonight? Does he tell her the same soft I love yous he tells you? What if they. . . ?

A wracking sob shakes your body heavily, fists tight against the comforter you’re slowly pulling up your knees, trying to shield yourself from what, you do not know. The betrayal feels like no other － like a bitter something that is slowly crawling down your throat and heart, sitting heavy in your stomach, ruining you inside.

The embers of your hate for his friends flares up, the flames licking at your chest as it aches. And no one even cares to remind him he has a girlfriend? That letting another girl sit on your lap while you’re in a relationship means you might as well break up? They know of your existence and stance in his life yet they let him anyway?

Keigo let her anyway.

Another sob tumbles out of your mouth, somehow it is the only comforting sound inside the tense silence in your room. What you’d give for Keigo to be home, wrap you in his arms, and assure you everything will be alright. What you’d give to take back all your confessions about the absolute chaos in your head, feeling like a fool for letting your defenses down and being vulnerable in front of him just to treat you like this.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there when the front door rattles open, and soon there’s a drenched Takami standing on your bedroom’s doorway. The rain is raging outside and you didn’t even notice.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, chest heaving, taking cautious steps toward your slumped form. You’re not sure why he’s saying sorry. Maybe Rumi did drag him and that girl out of the club.

You wipe the back of your hand to your cheek, erasing the evidence of your crying. You plast on a wobbly smile at him. “It’s okay,” you assure, despite the fact that you’re not assured. Pushing the comforter off you, you make a way for the pile of towels on the corner, and approach your boyfriend.

There’s a pained look on his face as you brought the cloth to his face, gently drying the rainwater dripping on his skin. Keigo sighs and angles his face away from you and grabs your wrist.

“Stop.”

You shake him off, the sides of your eyes burning, placing the towel on top of his head and drying his hair. It hurts to see him right now, but at least he’s home. Right? At least he’s here. With you. He came home.

“Y/N,” he stresses, hands gripping your arms hard like hot ice and shaking you adamantly. “For fuck’s sake, Y/N, I said I’m sorry.”

Keigo’s voice cracks.

You smile again, a little crooked, a little hurt. Your breath is hot against his cheek when you say, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Keigo exhales, something dark looming on his face. He pushes your hand away, and a tear slips down your cheek, but you’re quick. Your hand swipes it away as fast as it fell down, and there’s only a shadow of the trail it left.

The man in front of you sighs in exhaustion as he runs a shaking hand through his hair, the sound heavy on his chest. He sounds so tired. Fed up. Done. Is this how he will break up with you? The thought alone breaks your heart, and there is another trickle of tear down your eyes, and a choked sob escapes you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Keigo murmurs in remorse as he slowly pulls you in his arms, and you immediately latch to him, uncaring of the voice inside your head saying this is the same man who has his hands on another girl. He came home. He’s here with you. That is all that matters. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry.”

There’s no stopping your tears as it soaks the neckline of his shirt. Your breath is hot against his neck, contrasting his skin that is cold from the rain. “I know Rumi told you. She talked to me,” he explains, lips grazing your temple in a way that hurts so good. “I’m sorry, baby, it’ll never happen again.”

You pull your head away from his neck, breathing in through your nose, voice croaky. “I－ I’ve never－ You don’t see me sitting like that on other men's lap, Keigo,” you lament, the image flashing before your eyes again. “I feel so cheated.”

His hands are caressing your back and the pressure is a nice reminder that you aren’t alone anymore. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

Though you know no amount of sorrys can mend that little piece of your broken heart, you let it slide. You let it go. You just relish in this moment you manage to steal away from his friends, snuggling against his neck despite the cold bite of his wet clothes on your skin.

When Keigo suggests both of you clean up now that you’re also drenched in rainwater, you oblige. The soft feeling of his hands rubbing your scalp and his whispers of countless I’m sorrys is kept behind the tiny area of your bathroom. When you’re cuddled up to him right before bed, you don’t understand the difference of I love you and I’m sorry anymore.

It’s raining again.

Keigo decided to take you out today, saying it has been so long since the last you did. There’s a bitter remark in the back of your head saying, that’s because you don’t pay attention. It’s always your friends over me. It’s always her over me. But you ignored it, too elated by your boyfriend’s proposals because finally, after so long, it’s you and him again.

You look up at your transparent umbrella, eyes transfixed on a raindrop that lazily glides over the curve of the plastic, rejoining the ones that had built up at the ends. It falls down the puddle at your feet, the echoes of its fall waving in the water. You smile and pull out your phone to call Keigo. He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.

He picks up on the second ring. “Sorry,” comes his greeting, “I’m on my way, I promise.”

“It’s okay.” There’s nothing to be sorry for. You move the tips of your shoes to tap the puddle, and your reflection on the water dances. “I’ll be waiting here. Take care, okay? I lo－”

You don’t see it because you’re looking the other way, totally oblivious of the car reeling towards your direction. There was no beep or honk or anything. All there was was the screeching of tires on wet asphalt, but it’s too late.

You make eye contact with the wide-eyed man behind the wheel. Touya’s eyes look about to fall, and it would have pulled a good laugh out of you because this usually calm and collected friend of Keigo is panicking, but you know you can’t do that. Not anymore. Not ever.

The pain comes at full blow on your chest and your breath is knocked out of your lungs from the impact. You manage to register the fact that after that excruciating hit, your body is thrown back and hits the shed’s post. Something cracks through the happenings of it all.

Your phone is not in your hands anymore, your umbrella is gone. The rain is pattering against your face, mixing with the blood slowly pooling under your body. You barely understand Touya’s words as he runs off to you, lips moving in frenzy as he talks on his phone.

Keigo’s heart drops. What the fuck was that?

“Y/N,” he calls, dread sitting tight on his chest, “Y/N? Hello? Can you hear me?”

You don’t answer. He wants nothing than to get out of this fucking train and go to you. This seems too slow. Too slow.

Faintly, he hears it. A voice. His friend’s voice, to be exact. What the hell is Touya doing there with you? He picks up a few words, like accident and ambulance, and it feels like his heart is about to fall.

What happened to you? God, if anything bad happened to you, Keigo might lose his mind.

He’s out of the train when his phone rings again, and his heart skips with the thought that maybe it’s you, but when it displays Todoroki’s name, he almost throws the device away. “What?” He snaps, wiping the raindrops falling frantically on his face. His irritation and anxiety heightens. It’s like the raindrops are there to tell him to move faster, walk faster, get to you faster.

“Keigo, fuck, fuck, fuck,” comes Touya’s voice in Takami’s ear, and he abruptly stops at the distressed tone of his voice before moving again, mind wrapped around the thought of getting to you immediately.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Touya moans, “I’m so fucking sorry, I swear, I didn’t mean it, man.”

Keigo refuses to accept it. No. He ends the call and his rushed walk turns into a sprint, the soles of his shoes beating in time with the drops of rain. Maybe this is all a dream － a vivid one at that, because when he sees the familiar shed where you told him you’ll wait, it all feels too real.

His legs are straining from the effort he’s exerting to get to you faster, yet at the same time, he doesn’t want to. Seeing you will make it real. Keigo cannot accept that. He doesn’t want to accept that.

But there you were, eyes toward the sky and unseeing, arms splayed. Fuck. He skids to a stop next to your body, ignoring the bite of the concrete against his knees and Todoroki, who is looking at him wide-eyed.

“No, no, no, no,” Keigo rasps, hands hover over your body. The fear of touching you is sending alarms off inside his head. No. This cannot be true. This isn’t you.

But you’re wearing the necklace he gave you on your first anniversary, the gold lace hanging crooked on your neck.

He doesn’t mind the mix of blood and rain seeping into his clothes as he carefully, carefully places a hand over your forehead, and he wants nothing but to shake you awake but the dead look in your eyes is killing him.

“I’m so sorry, love,” he whispers, closing your eyelids and resting his forehead on yours, and he cries. Is this what he gets because he’s been neglecting you? Is this in exchange for the act he pulled yesterday night? Is this the universe taking back the greatest thing in his life because he didn’t appreciate it enough?

You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Keigo has it etched on his mind － your little phrases over the phone whenever the call is nearing its end. Take care. I love you. Bye. With the last word drawn out, childlike and wondrous. You weren’t even able to say those things. One last time.

But Keigo is aware of all the times he did not bid you goodbye. Every instance is eating away at him every day, his pride too big for him. It feels as though he took your for granted, and yes, maybe he really did.

What Keigo would give to turn back time and love you the right way you deserved.

He doesn’t realize when the medics came. He didn’t respond when a voice asked him to step back, thrice, until arms were lifting him off his feet. He didn’t say anything when somebody asked his name. All he can see is your body, drenched in water and blood.

You always did love the rain, so maybe that is why he’s so transfixed with the webs of crimson slowly mingling with the water on your skin. He watches as it becomes one with the rain, dripping down the pavement, and he knows soon it will disappear, all evidence of how once upon a time, Takami Keigo lost the love of his life in this very place.

more notes: i don’t know why i do this to myself heh this was supposed to be way darker and sadder, but i changed it last minute jskdl hope you enjoyed!

671 notes · View notes

winter-soldier-vibes · 4 years

Text

I can’t be alone right now (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

“I can’t be alone right now”

Bucky barnes x reader

Word count 2102

Warnings: depression, self harm, panic attack

Summary: Bucky knows that the reader used to self harm, and tells them that they can come to him if they feel the urge. Usually they’re able to handle it on their own, but one day it’s too much to handle alone.

-------------

You and Bucky were perfect for each other. You loved him for everything he was and had been through. You helped him whenever he had nightmares no matter how early in the morning it was. You had helped him get a lot of his memory back. And he supported you through everything too. He knew you battled depression and used to self harm. He understood that you’d have flare ups and relapses from time to time and made sure to never be angry with you about it. He made sure you knew you could ask him for help, no matter what time of day it was.

The two of you really did love each other. Everything had been going so well, which was why you didn’t quite understand why you would still want to hurt yourself every few days. You didn’t always talk to him about it for a few reasons. You could usually get through it on your own, and you didn’t want him to get too worried.

But something was different today, and you could feel it from the moment you opened your eyes.

You rolled over in bed to see that Bucky had already left for the day. Reaching for your phone, you saw a text that had come in from Bucky a few hours earlier.

Hey doll. Early morning training with Steve and then a team meeting not soon after. I’ll see you later today. Don’t do anything stupid until I get back. :)

You smiled to yourself. He had just learned about emojis a few months prior (thanks to you) and had recently started to use them. You layed back down with a huff. Something to you just felt...off. This kind of thing happened all the time, but today’s was hitting you differently. You could feel this anxiety building up inside of you, and from experience, you didn’t like where this kind of feeling could lead you.

You tried to control your breathing, not letting it get too out of control. You closed your eyes and clenched your fingers around the mattress on either side of you. You could do this - it hadn’t happened in a while, but you could get it together.

After 10 or so breaths you felt it was safe enough to relax and open your eyes again. You wiped your face and groaned. This could be a very long day.

You didn’t really know how to explain your depression or anxiety. They don’t have a schedule, literally everything could be going right and you would still cry yourself to sleep or have 2 panic attacks in the same day. You didn’t feel like you had a right to be down or upset, which is why you avoided talking about it as much as you could.

And the most frustrating thing is that they travel in a pair. If you feel anxious, you’d sure as hell be expecting your depression to tag along. It was annoying really. But nothing you had found yet had been super helpful. Well, except hurting yourself, but that wasn’t an option anymore.

Or was it?

No. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the toxic thought that just crossed your mind. It had been months, there was no way you could hurt yourself now. And why would you? There’s no reason to be depressed or anxious, therefore no reason to hurt yourself. You sighed. You had dealt with these thoughts before, you could deal with them again.

You pushed yourself out of bed and headed to your bathroom to take a shower. Despite wanting to stay in bed all day, you knew it wouldn’t help you, and that you should get up and go on with your day.

You turned the showerhead on and undressed, waiting for the water to get warm. You stood and caught a glance of your reflection in the mirror. You quickly turned away, but it was no use. The thoughts were already rolling it.

God your a mess

What is the matter with you? You should be the one in the gym not Bucky.

Why is he even with you?

“Stop,” you said out loud, to yourself. You shook your head and stepped in the shower. It was still cold but it helped put a temporary pause to your mind’s spree of worthlessness. You swear, if you could get a restraining order on your own brain, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

You washed your hair and then reached for your razor to shave. Once it was in your hand though, your mind had other ideas.

Just do it

You’ll feel so much better

You deserve it anyway

You dropped the razor on the ground and turned off the shower, trying to move as quickly as possible to get as far as possible from the instrument. You couldn’t do that, not again, no matter how badly you wanted to. You quickly toweled off and went back into the room to get dressed. After which, you sat on the edge of the bed and put your head in your hands, trying to block out all the thoughts in your mind but it was no use. They came anyway.

You’re such a disaster

Bucky’s just being nice, he doesn’t actually love you

You’re a mistake

A waste of space

Why are you even like this? Your life is perfect

You should just do everyone a favor and kill yourself

No one loves you, and no one ever will

Who could ever love you?

When the tears started, you didn’t know. Your breath was hitching again, but it was too far gone by now. You curled up upon yourself, hugging your knees into your chest. You thought about how you could make yourself feel better with a few slashes, but you refused to let yourself

But it was right in the drawer next to you…

When Bucky had found out, he had taken all of your blades. Well, all of the ones you told him about. You kept one as a ‘in case of emergencies’ precaution. And you wanted to so badly, but you knew you couldn’t let yourself.

It was so hard, knowing that something could help you so quickly and so easily, but knowing it’s the last thing you should be doing. There was nothing more frustrating than having the only thing you knew how to do to help yourself was actually hurting yourself.

You opened the drawer and looked at the knife. It looked so appealing right now. It’d be so easy…

You slammed the door shut and tried to muffle a scream with a pillow. Feeling a full on panic attack coming, you knew you couldn’t do this alone for much longer. You were scared to be on your own right now.

You unlocked your phone and went to Bucky’s contact.

‘Please tell me you’re not in the middle of something right now.’

Bucky, still in the meeting, looked at the message curiously. He replied,

‘In the meeting, but what’s up?’

You hesitated looking at the response. What if it was something actually important? What if they really needed him. But a few more seconds of thinking and you knew you couldn’t take much more before you gave in. You texted back

‘I really can’t be alone right now.’

Immediately Bucky straightened up in his chair before pushing it back. The team fell silent and looked at him. “Sorry, I have to go. Urgent.” Steve looked at him with concern. “Tell you later.” he said before he could get up.

Bucky could run fast, but he never ran so fast in his life. A million thoughts ran through his head of what you could have meant, none of them good. When he opened the door, he saw you breathing heavily, tears down your face, and a knife in your hand.

He stepped forward cautiously. “Doll, why do you have -”

Your eyes snatched up and you threw the knife away from you but still in the bed “Take this, please take it away, I can’t... “

“Okay, okay,” he stepped forward and took the knife, placing it on the dresser across the room. When he came over to you and sat down next to you, you started crying harder and breathing heavier.

He quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. You clung to his T-shirt, which was quickly becoming wet with your tears. “Shh, doll. I wanna know what’s going on, but I need you to breathe with me first, okay? Try to match me.”

He breathed in deeply, and you could feel his chest expanding and contracting. You focused on the sound of his heart beating as you tried to match it. After a few minutes, your breath had returned to normal, but you were still unable to stop the tears or the racing thoughts in your mind. “Can I ask what’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath and shrugged. “I am.” “What do you-” “I’m the problem. Literally nothing happened. I just...I couldn’t stop thinking and then I couldn’t breath and then I wanted to…” you stopped, unable to finish your sentence.

He rubbed his metal arm up and down your back. “Did you - you know…”

You shook your head. “No.”

He cleared his throat. “Are you sure?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

He nodded, trusting that you hadn’t. “You know, sometimes things like that just happen. They sneak up on you and take you when you least expect it.” He pulled back, so he could look you in the eye. “It’s not your fault, it has absolutely nothing to do with you or what you do. Sometimes it doesn’t even have to do with the things around you. Sometimes things like this just are, and that’s okay.”

You nodded, looking away, now embarrassed by the whole scene you had just caused. “I’m sorry Buck. i shouldn’t have interrupted the meeting.”

“Hey,” he said, guiding your chin so that you would look at him again. “Don’t you ever apologize for this kind of thing. I told you whenever, wherever, remember?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” you sighed, not wanting to tell him how often this kind of thing occurred.

“Just what, y/n?”

“Just that usually I can handle this kind of thing on my own,” you said, a little more firmly than you intended. He dropped his hand and looked like you had just hit him. “What do you mean? How often does this thing kind of happen?”

“Forget what I said -”

“How often?” he said more sternly

“It’s not a big deal -”

“Yes it is. Now tell me.”

“Buck -”

“Y/n.”

You sighed again and crossed your arms. “I dunno, a few times a week I guess?” you said, unable to look him in the eye.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked softly, despite being furious with himself for not noticing.

“Because like I said, I never have a good reason. Everything’s perfect, you’re absolutely perfect, everything in my life is absolutely perfect except for the thoughts that run through my mind. And that’s the one thing in my life that I can’t control. Anything else goes wrong, I can fix it. But myself?” you shook your head and met his gaze again. “I can’t fix that.”

He wrapped his arms around you again. “The thing is, doll, you don’t have to. I’m here to help you the same way you help me every day. Let me return the favor. Please, I want to help.”

You nodded into him. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” he said. He cleared his throat again. “Are there any others I should know about?”

You furrowed your brows and looked up at him. “What?” you asked.

“Blades,” he said.

Realization slapped you across the face. “Oh, yeah, sorry, uh...no. No there aren’t.”

“You swear?” he asked.”

You nodded. “I swear.”

“Okay, good. I’ll take care of that one in a few minutes. Right now I just want to be with you.”

You laughed a little. “Well, I’m happy to oblige. You did leave me with an empty bed this morning, after all.”

He smirked at you. “Well, maybe we should fix that, huh?”

“Sounds good to me. Movies?”

“I’m down for that.” he said.

Halfway through your first movie, cuddled up on each other, you leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, Buck.”

He pulled you in for a kiss. “I love you too.”

#avengers #mcu #marvel #bucky #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes #buckybarnescomfort #depression #depressioncomfort #panicattack #panic attack #anxiety #anxietycomfort #selfharm #selfharmcomfort

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ananicoleta · 3 years

Text

I’ll Always Be Here

Summary: Penelope makes a last second decision that she does not want to be in Space Jam 2 without Pepe, and she quickly goes home to comfort him.

Hello, everyone! I’m back with a new fic about Space Jam 2, this time focusing on Pepe and Penelope. This fic was inspired from and ask, submitted by anonymus on @thebrownssociety 's account. They said they didn't want to write it, however, so I did instead (with their permission of course).

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They all belong to Warner Bros.

Enjoy!

“Ms. Le Pew, filming starts in ten!” The voice of a staff member reached Penelope’s ears, muffled by the door of her changing room.

“I’ll be there in a minute!” She called back. Then, there was the sound of footsteps walking away, meaning that she was all alone again.

Penelope sighed and looked at the scrip in her hands. She had tried memorizing the lines all morning, but with no result. Her brain just couldn’t process the text, the words danced in front of her eyes and the letters all became hieroglyphs with no meaning. No matter how much she tried to concentrate, her mind always drifted away, far from the Warner Bros. lot, far from the film set and the film itself, traveling all the way back to her home, where she knew there was her husband, alone.

It was so unfair.

Pepe didn’t deserve all the hate and backlash he had gotten. Her beloved had done nothing wrong ever! All those people that claimed Pepe was encouraging a deviant behaviour had no idea what they were talking about. They didn’t know him, so why were they speaking like that?! Her Pepe, was the kindest, most romantic and gentle soul she had ever met. He would never hurt a fly, let alone do those kind of things.

But people didn’t seem to understand. No matter how many times Pepe and the other Looney Tunes tried to clarify this misunderstanding, how many times they told people those were just cartoons and they were just actors, how many times she tried to explain she had not been assaulted, their narrow minds just couldn’t comprehend it. In the end, the descision to remove Pepe from the movie and from the future Looney Tunes productions was made and, despite all the protests, no one had been able to do anything.

Those news had terribly depressed Pepe. Every single one of them knew how much the skunk liked acting and how fond he was of cartoons, so naturally, the whole situation was like a punch in the gut. He isolated himself from the rest of the world, which deeply worried both her and the rest of their family. At least Speedy, who knew better than any of them what it felt like to go through all that, had tried to cheer him up and comfort him, and to some extent, he succeded. Everytime Speedy talked to Pepe, he always felt better afterwards and acted a bit more like his usual self.

Still, concern always seemed to pull on Penelope’s heart strings, now more than ever, considering Pepe was all by himself at home, feeling lonely and depressed that he couldn’t be with them and do what he loved. And oh, how she wanted him to be near her right now! She wanted to hold his hand, as they walked on the film set, she wanted to hear him whisper romantic things in her ear, and then scold him because “it’s nor the time nor the place!”, but both of them knowing she liked it a lot. She wanted him to make her laugh and smile and fill her stomach with butterflies. She wanted...

Suddenly, she noticed a wet spot on her page and wondered what could that be. Then she noticed another. And another. Bringing her hand towards her face she realized that her fur was wet. She was crying.

Tossing the script aside, she buried her face in her hands and cried, and cried, and cried, letting all of her frustration out.

Knock, knock

Penelope jumped. “Who is it?”

“Sorry to bother you, Ms. Le Pew, but filming is starting now.”

“Yeah, s-sure, I’ll be out immediately.” She said, trying not to sound disstressed.

She got up and checked her reflection, making sure there were no clues that she had cried, then exited her trailer and marched towards the set, desperately whishing that Pepe was by her side.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Ms. Le Pew, are you even listening?”

That sentence snapped Penelope out of her thoughts. She quickly realized that no, she had not been listening. Instead, she kept galncing at the empty spot, where Pepe should have been...

“I am sorry, Mr. Lee.” She apologised. “Please, continue.”

So, the man went on about how he wanted that specific scene acted and all that blah, blah, blah that Penelope, again, did not, could not, listen too. What was Pepe doing right then, as her and the others were filming? Was he feeling lonely or had he found something entertaining to do? At least that was what he had promised her that morning. I promise you, ma cherie, I will be fine.

Those were his exact words. But the question was, did he mean them? Or they were just pretty lies, meant to chase away all her worries? Knowing how much Pepe loved her, she wouldn’t put it past him to hide his sadness just so she could have a good time...

Finally, Mr. Lee finished his rant and they were ready to film.

It should have excited Penelope. Ever since the first Space Jam released, she had dreamed of filming a sequel. Back then it seemed so exciting and fun to relive all that. Now, however, it was different. Suddenly, she realized that she didn't want to film at all.

“Okay, people, places!”

Just then, a thought blossomed in her mind. What if...? But no, she couldn’t do that. People were counting on her. She couldn’t possibly... Or could she? Truth was she didn’t play a big part and did not have that many lines, so it wouldn’t really be a problem if she left... would it?

She looked around frantically. She had very little time to make a decision and she needed to make it right then!

“Ready! Actio-”

“Wait!” The word had left her mouth before she could even stop them.

Everyone looked at her.

“Is there a problem, Ms. Le Pew?” Lee asked, confused.

“Yes, it is.” Penelope said. “I do not want to be in this movie anymore.”

For a moment, silence engulfed the set. Then, the director’s voice rang clear, stuttering and, as Penelope had expected, trying to convince her against it.

“Ms. Le Pew, p-please, reconsider- I mean, you can’t- you can’t possibly-”

“Oh, I can. And I have.” She said confidently, ready to leave.

But Mr. Lee was not finished. Getting up, he marched right after her.

“Ms. Le Pew, why? Why do you want to leave production? Is there something wrong?”

“Yes, there is. My husband is not here and I don’t want to do this without him. Good day Mr. Lee.” And with that, she turned around and left, leaving behind a shocked director and a bunch of rather happy Looney Tunes.

“Guys, can’t you do something?” Mr. Lee said to the rest of the cast. “Convince her to come back?”

“For Warner’s sake, leave her alone, Doc.” Bugs said casually, munching on his carrot. “Even if we tried to convince her to retoin she’d refuse. Besides, we don’t wanna.” The other looneys nodded in agreement. “Now how ‘bout we get back ta filmin’?” The rabbit smiled (a bit) smugly at the director.

Mr. Lee sighed, realizing he had lost the battle, and yelled at everyone to get to their places again.

Meanwhile, Peneople was already out in the parking lot, unlocking her car, desperate to get to her beloved. As she drove back to Toon Town, not for one second did she regret her decision.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Pepe sat in his armchair, quietly reading.

It had been a long day. A long, boring day. His wife and friends had left in the morning to film Space Jam 2 and he had been alone ever since.

First, he tried taking a walk through Toon Town. Usually, a breath of fresh air, hearing the birds sing, the perfume of flowers and even the sight of other toons, going about their day, cheered Pepe up. It was so normal, so simple, yet he enjoyed it, and it reminded him to be grateful and take pleasure in the smallest things in life.

That day, however, it was different. The cent of flowers didn't smell as good as it did, the song of birds faded into obscurity, mixing with other sound and becoming insignificant, and the mere image of toons hurryig to work, filled him with depression. It reminded him he had no job anymore, no purpouse...

So he had returned home, picked his favorite romance book, Gone With The Wind, and sat down to read. But even that wasn't able to cheer him up.

He had truly lied to Penelope that morning. He was far from being fine. But, what else was he supposed to say? That he was sad and needed her there? How could he?! Penny had wanted to film that movie for so long. He couldn't take that away from her.

Just then, he heard the front door open and shot his head up in alarm. For a split second he thought someone had broken into his house (maybe some backround character thief that would be stupid enough to try to rob a house by walking through the fromt door?)

But, all his fears were cast aside and replaced with confusion when he saw his beautiful wife standing in front of him.

"Penny? What are you doing here?"

"I quit the movie." She said in an unaffected tone.

Pepe jumped on his feet. "Tu as fait quoi?!”

"I already told you. I don't want to film Space Jam 2 anymore." Her voice was, again, emotionless, showing absolutely no regret.

Walking towards her, he cupped her face in his hands. "But why?"

Pepe wasn't stupid. He had a hunch why she would do it. Yet, still he wanted to make doubly sure.

"Because I don't want to be in it, if you are not in it."

There it was.

Pepe sighed and caressed her face. "Ma cherie, don't let me spoil your fun-"

"But you're not! You never spoiled anything for me! Those bastards did when they kicked you out!"

"But you were so excited, Penny. You wanted this, so don't let me get in the way. Please, go back."

"But I don't want to!" Her voice now was hoarse and her eyes were filling with tears. "True, I was excited in the begining, but that changed when you were out. I don't want to do it without you, so don't ever feel guilty or say you are getting in the way. You are never getting in the way. It was my choice to leave, and I regret nothing, got it?" She was basically clinging to him now, gazing into his hazel orbs.

Looking into those beautiful eyes of hers and, seeing her passion, love and sincierity, filled Pepe with a strong emotion. Lifting her chin up a bit, he kissed his wife deeply. Penelope reciprocated this gesture, warping her arms tightly around his neck.

They stayed like that for a while, completely lost in their bliss. When they finally broke apart a few inches, Pepe had tears rolling down on his cheeks.

"Thank you for being here, my angel. Je t'aime beaucoup."

Penelope smiled. "I’ll alway be here, love. Et je t'aime aussi."

THE END

Translations: Ma cheire = my dear

Tu as fait quoi?! = You did what?!

Je t'aime = I love you

Beaucoup = very much

Et = and

Aussi = as well

Thank you everyone for reading!

#looney tunes #pepe le pew #penelope pussycat #bugs bunny #fanfiction #fluff #hurt/comfort #cute #space jam 2 #ask #@thebrownssociety

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toffrox · 3 years

Text

Out Loud

Read on Ao3

Will

Will wasn't exactly sure if there was an exact moment that he knew he was in love with Nico.

Maybe, he mused, it was that evening in the infirmary. When Nico had looked up at him with wide, beautiful eyes and said "I think you you should kiss me."

Or, maybe, it was before that. Maybe it was the first time Will saw him laugh. Or the first time he surprised Will with lunch at the infirmary during a busy shift.

Sometimes, Will wondered if it was on the day they first met. Maybe on some level, he always knew.

Then again, the moment Nico first called Will his boyfriend was a strong contender.

They had been sitting up on Half Blood Hill together, watching the sunset. It was the night after Apollo had left Camp with Leo, Calypso and Festus, and they were all still reeling from the battle with the Colossus.

He and Nico had been discussing the fight, which had led them to a memory of the last battle they had fought together, on this very spot, when Nico had stumbled across Will, Cecil and Lou Ellen.

"I was so angry at you for using your powers when you were that close to fading." Will said, glad that they could laugh about it now. Nico smiled a wry smile.

"And I was so angry at you for being so smug about it." He grouched. "Remember when you ran straight at the enemy as a distraction? With absolutely no plan to defeat them? I never understood how you could be so calm with 6 roman legionnaires on your tail."

Will grinned at him, eyes sparkling.

"I knew you would save me." He said simply.

Nico rolled his eyes, but Will could see that he was pleased. The corners of his lips twitched in that way Will loved and Will leaned in to kiss him. Nico pulled back before he could, trying to look stern.

"Absolutely not. You are not getting a kiss for that." He said sternly.

"Please?" Will asked, fluttering his eyelashes as dramatically as he could.

Nico cast his eyes to the sky as if asking for help from the Gods.

Luckily, Will knew he wouldn't be counting on them too much. He swooped in and pecked Nico on the cheek, which made him laugh.

"My boyfriend is a sap." He sighed, his eyes still cast skywards.

Will pulled back at that, his mouth open in shock.

"I... I can't believe you just said that" He found himself saying. His voice came out excited and breathless.

Nico quirked a single eyebrow.

"Said what?" He asked dryly.

"You just referred to me as your boyfriend." Will said, incredulous.

Nico frowned at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Um. Yeah..."

Will felt a massive grin spread across his face. His heart ballooned with a feeling so strong it was verging on painful.

Nico frowned deeper, looking utterly perplexed.

"Will." He said, the way one might speak to a small child or a confused pet. "You are my boyfriend."

The feeling in Will's chest ballooned even bigger. His cheeks ached.

For a second, Will felt as though he was going to cave in and say the words that had been on the tip of his lips for quite some time now.

Instead, before he knew what he was doing he dived forward into Nico's arms, clutching his waist tight and burying his face in Nico's chest. He felt a startled breath push itself out of Nico's lungs.

"You've never said it out loud before..." Will mumbled into his shirt.

Nico let out a surprised laugh, but held him tighter, one hand carding through Will's hair, his touch particularly gentle.

"Like I said." he chuckled. "A complete sap."

Maybe that had been the moment...

But then again, there had been moments like that before, Will supposed.

Moments when the two of them had been teasing each other, or holding each other, or wrapped up in one another, physically and mentally.

The time Nico first told him about his past. The time they had decided officially to be more than friends. The day Will had introduced Nico to his mother...

Each of these moments, Will could feel it. The unspoken words. Those intense feelings he was so sure that both of them felt.

Except that the timing had never been right. And for a lot of those moments, neither of them had really been ready.

Will supposed really that the moment on top of Half Blood Hill hadn't been the first time he'd felt in love. But it was the first time he'd felt ready to say it.

Except that he didn't.

And he wouldn't, he decided, until Nico was ready too.

For now, he thought, they would continue to sit in those moments together - both feeling, neither saying - waiting for the right time to arrive.

The first time Nico said "I love you" out loud, Will was asleep.

Or, at least, Nico thought Will was asleep. That's what Will assumed.

Will was sleeping in the Hades Cabin, as he often did, despite the relentless teasing it prompted from Austin and Kayla.

Usually, Will fell asleep before Nico. Nico slept so fitfully anyway, and Will always felt more tired once the sun had set.

But tonight, Will couldn't sleep. It had been a rough day. A new camper had arrived with their protector early in the day, both pretty injured from a run in with some hellhounds on their way here. Then Ellis got beaten up pretty badly in training, and there was an explosion in Bunker Nine, resulting in several Hephaestus campers all getting injured as well.

On top of that, Kayla was having a dark week and hadn't been able to get out of bed that morning. Will had been pushing down his worry about her all day, working the infirmary alone while Austin stayed in Cabin Seven to keep her company and make sure she took her anti-depressants. That evening, Will, Austin Nico and Lacy from Cabin Eight had all piled into bed with her to watch her favourite movie. Kayla had sat with her head on Will's shoulder and Will had forced down his worry some more; he knew that Kayla hated it when he was worried about her.

So by the time Will crashed into Nico's bunk, his brain forgot that he was physically exhausted and instead chose that moment to surface every worry he had been avoiding.

Nico climbed into bed after him and held Will to his chest and said in a low voice that he should get some rest and look after himself and they would talk in the morning.

Slowly, Will felt his muscles ease up. And eventually, his mind eased too.

He rolled over, Nico shifting forwards so that he stayed curled around Will's body, nuzzling his face into Will's hair.

"Goodnight, Will." He whispered. Will sighed softly in response, too tired to reply.

He lay there in Nico's arms, his mind not fretting anymore but moving too quickly to sleep, despite his body's growing heaviness.

He felt Nico's breath on the back of his neck and could tell that he was still awake.

It could have been hours that they were lying there like that, on the edge of sleep. Will wasn't sure exactly how long it was, when Nico's voice cut through the room again.

"Will?"

It was barely a whisper, breathed out against the back of his neck.

Will tried to blink his eyes open, but his lids were heavy. He tried to shift, but his limbs stayed put. He thought that he mumbled a response, but Nico didn't seem to hear him.

He paused for a moment, then Will felt a hand squeeze his waist, as if silence was the response Nico was hoping for.

He felt the faint brush of Nico's lips, pressed just under his ear.

Then, a whisper:

"I love you."

Something about those words seemed to mean something to Will's sleepy brain. He felt his lips curve into a lazy smile. He felt something warm settle in his chest. And before he could really think much on it, he had dropped into proper sleep.

The next morning, the full force of Nico's words hit Will as he sat up in bed, remembering the whispered confession. He wondered if it was real, or if he'd dreamt it.

Nico was tangled up in the sheets, his face smooth and angelic as it always was when he slept.

Will carefully extricated himself from Nico's bunk, preparing to head back to Cabin Seven and check in on Kayla.

He pressed a kiss to Nico's forehead and whispered "Love you too, Death Boy."

Then he smiled to himself, heart full, as he walked back across the green with the sun rising behind him.

A few days later, Will got his proof that it hadn't been a dream.

They were sitting out by the beach, in their favourite spot.

It had been another particularly heavy shift at the infirmary and Will was sitting between Nico's legs, dozing with his head leaning back on Nico's chest.

Nico's whisper "Will, are you awake?" had roused him, though his voice was gentle enough that his eyes stayed closed.

He was about to blink them open, to respond with a sleepy "hmm?", when the warm memory of that night in Cabin Thirteen bubbled up into Will's mind. He must have smiled, but he held back his reply.

Instead, he kept his eyes closed and let himself sigh, sinking further into Nico's arms.

"No?" Nico whispered.

Will stayed quiet.

He felt Nico's lips press ever so softly against the top of his head. And then, another whisper;

"Love you."

It was quiet, just like last time, even more difficult to hear over the sounds of the sea and the wind and trees rustling nearby.

But Will heard it. And Nico's arms tightening around him confirmed that he hadn't imagined it.

The third time it happened, Will stayed awake deliberately.

He suggested coming to Cabin Thirteen for the evening at dinner. Nico was surprised (Will usually waited for Nico to invite him rather than invite himself), but he seemed pleased.

They played Mythomagic for a while and then watched a movie. Will made an effort to be extra affectionate, shooting Nico warm, sappy smiles wherever he could and pressing kisses to his shoulder in the way he knew made Nico melt every time.

When they settled down to sleep, Will rolled over and willed himself to relax into the pillow.

He slowed his breath as much as he could and let the tension drain out of his shoulders.

Then, he waited.

For a while, Nico lay tense at Will's back. It always took him a little while to get in the headspace for sleep if he'd had a day free of shadow travel or any other kind of Underworldly power, and today had been a fairly uneventful day. His breath brushed against Will's neck steadily, but quickly.

At one point, Will wondered if maybe he knew that Will was awake. Or maybe the last two times had been flukes, one offs.

But then, eventually, the whisper came.

First checking, making sure he was asleep.

"Will?"

Will pursed his lips to stop himself from grinning. He stayed quiet.

Nico breathed out a sigh of what might be relief. He moved his mouth to just under Will's ear and whispered again.

"I love you."

Glee sparked in Will's chest. He had to fight to keep his breathing even. Except that focusing on that when his heart was swelling with joy at the same time caused his skin to glow against his will.

He felt a flash of panic as Nico gasped and pulled back slightly.

Would Nico realise what Will had done? Would he notice Will was actually awake?

Instead, Will was simply granted another secret whisper. This one breathed out in awe, Nico's voice sounding sweeter than Will had ever heard it.

"You are so beautiful."

Will felt himself blush furiously into the dark.

Nico usually never complimented him like that in the daylight. He usually went for snarky, teasing comments when they were together. Even in his more sincere moments, he stuck to praises about his personality over his appearance; he commented on Will's skill as a healer, or his kindness or his humour. He'd never called Will beautiful before. Never spoken so earnestly like this.

For a second, Will thought that maybe he would open his eyes, and reply to Nico. Maybe he would reveal that he'd heard Nico's words and say them back.

But then Nico was sighing contently and rolling over behind him, ready for sleep.

Maybe tomorrow he'll say it during the day.

But Nico didn't say it the next day. Or the day after that either.

So pretending to sleep whenever the two of them are napping together instead became something of a guilty habit of Will's. A routine.

Maybe Nico wasn't ready to say the words in the daylight, but for now, just knowing that he was right, that they did feel the same way, was more than enough.

For weeks, months, the routine persisted:

The two of them said goodnight. They cuddled.

Will pretended to sleep.

Nico checked to see if he was awake.

Will was silent.

Nico brought his lips to the spot just behind Will's ear.

Nico whispered "I love you."

And Will glowed.

Then, one night in the middle of spring, the routine broke.

Nico had been hearing voices from Tartarus. Will was spending the afternoon with him to distract him. They were sitting on the porch of the Big House, waiting for their first pinochle lesson with Mr D.

It wasn't a particularly special moment, really. But Will was convinced that Nico had been about to say it.

Will looked out over the camp and turned to find Nico gazing at him with an oddly sincere expression.

Will felt his cheeks flush pink, which only intensified Nico's look.

"What is it?" Will asked. He felt almost shy. His heart thudded slightly faster.

"I-" Nico hesitated. He started to smile.

Will was so sure that he was going to say it.

"Alright you two, come on in." Mr D appeared on the porch. Nico and Will both jumped. Mr D frowned. "What? Am I interrupting something?"

Will blushed and Nico laughed nervously.

"No, no, of course not." He said.

...But Will had been so sure.

That night, Nico whispered, "Will, are you awake?"

Will held back his smile.

Nico leaned forward, brushing his lips against Will's ear.

"I love you."

Will let out a hum of contentment.

Then, his eyes snapped open.

Shit.

He'd never done that before. That wasn't part of the routine.

Nico shifted back ever so slightly, his body tensing.

"Will?" He said, out loud. Not a whisper.

Will squeezed his eyes shut, heart racing. Maybe he would think it was a coincidence. Maybe he hadn't seen his eyes open.

There was a long, tense pause.

Nico rolled over. And Will prayed that he hadn't just messed this up.

The next morning, Nico wouldn't look at him.

He avoided breakfast, and didn't drop by the infirmary.

Will started to worry.

He left his shift early to look for him. But he wasn't in Cabin Thirteen, or at the beach, or the arena.

Gods, how had Will made such a mess of this?

He headed out of the dining pavilion after lunch, thinking maybe he could talk to Rachel about this. She would know what to do.

But when he approached the entrance to the cave, he heard Nico's voice.

Will froze, overhearing Nico's words before he could stop himself.

"-don't know what to do! He obviously heard me, but he pretended like he didn't! Do you think I freaked him out? I thought he felt the same way..."

Will pulled back, retreating as hurriedly as he could.

He forced himself to hold in his laugh.

He forced himself to wait until his heart rate slowed down again.

Then he shook his head, and returned to the infirmary for the afternoon.

This had gone on long enough, he decided. It was time that one of them to stop being an idiot.

Will snuck over to Cabin Thirteen just before curfew.

Nico seemed surprised to see him when he slipped in the door and went straight to Nico's bunk. But he didn't say anything and nodded willingly when Will murmured "Is this ok?"

Nico held him tight.

Will told him: "I couldn't sleep without you" and Nico's grip tightened.

Will waited.

"Will - you awake?"

Will smiled. He shifted, rolling over so that they were facing each other under the covers.

"I am awake, actually." He said, keeping his voice as low as he could.

Nico's eyes widened.

"Oh."

Will brought one hand to Nico's face, stroking his thumb against his cheekbone in a way he hoped would be soothing.

"I have to tell you something." Will whispered.

Nico's forehead creased every so slightly and Will felt his heartbeat quicken.

"… you do?"

"Yeah." whispered Will. "Close your eyes."

Nico hesitated, but followed Will's instructions.

Will grinned. He moved his hand away and leaned in to brush his lips against the skin under Nico's ear, right where Nico had been kissing him in secret.

He let the now familiar feeling in his chest expand and warm his entire body, then whispered, featherlight.

"I love you."

He pulled back just in time to see Nico's eyes snap open. He looked so wild and panicked that Will couldn't help but laugh.

Nico's mouth twisted in outrage.

"You were awake that night!" He cried, indignant.

Will blushed.

"I may have overheard you…" He admitted. "...on more than just one occasion, actually."

"Oh my gods" Nico looked mortified. He buried his face in hands. "Why didn't you say anything?!" He said, voice muffled through his fingers.

"I meant to, I really did!" Will managed to say, his voice still breathless with laughter and nerves. "But I kind of figured you weren't ready and then after a while I started to like it - and it became kind of like a routine..." Will trailed off.

He reached up to pull Nico's hands away from his face so they could look at one another. His cheeks were getting sore from grinning, now.

"You're awfully sweet when you think I'm sleeping, you know." He teased.

"Gods, how long has this been going on?" Nico choked out.

Will bit his lip, sheepish. "Um… a couple of months."

"A couple of months?" Nico sounded slightly strangled.

"Maybe six weeks? Since February!" Will amended hastily. "And I'm sorry! I really thought you'd say it during the day sometime, but you never did!"

"I thought maybe you wouldn't say it back!"

Will scoffed at that.

"No, you didn't!"

"I did!" Nico said, scowling now. "I was really worried!"

"No you weren't." Will rolled his eyes.

"I was." Nico insisted.

"You were not." Will smirked. "Everyone in this whole damn camp knows I'm in love with you. It's no secret."

"Well I never knew for sure." Nico said stubbornly.

"No?" Will teased. "What had you unsure? Was it me introducing you to my mother? Or was it the way I drive Kayla and Austin crazy on a daily basis because I talk about you constantly? Or maybe it's how every time I see you I have to literally hold back all my powers so I don't start glowing like an idiot. Or the fact that I hate spending nights in my cabin now because I miss you, even though we spend basically all day every day hanging out. Or maybe it's-

"Oh my god, shut up." Nico groaned.

He buried his face in Will's chest and Will laughed.

"I hate you." Nico said into his shirt.

"No you don't" Will said, smugly. "You love me."

Nico looked up at him with that scowl that Will loved so much. His lips did Will's favourite thing, twitching up reluctantly.

"I do." he admitted.

Will beamed and swooped down to kiss him properly. Nico smiled against his lips, and Will felt that incredible feeling ballooning in his chest again. Nico pressed forward to deepen the kiss and the feeling grew and grew until Will was suddenly desperate to tell him again, properly this time.

He pulled back and looked Nico dead in the eye.

"I love you so much." He breathed.

Nico bit his lip. He was nervous. Unsure, as always, even after Will's teasing.

"You do?" He breathed.

"Nico, I've loved you for so long. I love you more than anything."

Will's voice was quiet and earnest, trying to express something too big for the words he was speaking.

Nico smiled.

From then on, they followed a new routine:

Nico reached over. He kissed the spot under Will's ear.

He said, "I love you, Will."

And Will smiled into the darkness and whispered back "I love you too."

#fluff #posting this here too #I'm just really proud of this one #solangelo fluff #tooth rotting fluff #first i love you #Nico di Angelo #Will solace #THEY ARE IN LOVE OK?

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yandere-tech · 4 years

Text

Comfort (Jin Bubaigawara X Reader)

Being alone with your thoughts was possibly the worst thing you could be doing right now. Sitting in the darkness of your room, cheeks stained with tears and eyes red, you tried to get rid of the overbearing sensation of...guilt, sadness, loneliness. It all seemed to swirl around in your brain like an angry swarm of wasps, ready to attack with each second you weren't distracted. Having thrown on some feel good music on low, trying to read something that would bring back that smile. When was the last time you smiled? You were sure it was over something stupid like a tiktok video or short clip about a cat. A quick, small laugh and half smile that would dissolve the moment the video was done. The more you thought about it- when was the last time you were happy...? A shudder of a cry escapes past your lips as you try to keep quiet- knowing the walls of apartment complex were thin as paper- and it was one in the morning. You didn't need to wake up anyone- you certainly didn't need to accidentally wake your boyfriend either. As much as you'd love to cry and cling to him, he had it far worse and you knew it. Constantly battling himself- much like you did. But you knew how to silence your pain, you were his 'home' and, honestly, he was yours. Despite trying to hide these feelings behind dark humor or a half assed smile, he somehow managed to make things better. His ability to somehow deal with everything and still be the most kindest and most loyal man you had ever met. Your hand had slipped over your mouth as a hiccup and slight whimper manages to slip out. Nothing was helping this time and it felt like the world was slowly closing in on you. Your tears come back full force as the thoughts take off with you again, reminding you of how worthless you were- how lonely you were- how you weren't worth the life you were given. It bombarded you to the point you were doubled over, hand now firmly pressed to your lips to keep from crying out or sobbing, your other hand shakily gripping your hair. The feelings would be gone by morning...You'd fall asleep and you'd wake up feeling numb once again. But right now- in the late hours of the night when sleep wouldn't drag you in, when the darkness swallowed you whole- it felt never-ending. And that's when you heard his voice, gruff from sleep and concerned. Just the way Jin said your name made the darkness reel back just enough as you quickly look toward the other side of the bed, where the blonde had shifted slightly, propping himself up on his elbows, blinking in the low light of your computer glow. Quickly closing the laptop, you wipe at your eyes and try to find a way to make your voice sound normal. "Sorry, Jin. I didn't mean to wake you." You tell him as you slide your laptop to the side of the bedside table and slowly curl up under the blankets with him. The moment your body is under, he sinks down as well, an arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. "Are you alright...?" "We need our beauty sleep, babe." He says before grumbling and opening his eyes once more to look at you in the dark. A small hum escapes you as you run a hand through his hair. "Just fine." You lie easily. However, you soon feel his hand on your cheek as he strokes his thumb in small circles. "Then why is your cheek still wet?" "Lying to me- I'm hurt!" He shakes his head a bit, making you tense slightly. "It's nothing, Jin, really. I just get sappy and over emotional at night." You tell him, taking his hand off your cheek. "Mnn...You seriously suck at lying..." Jin yawns as he sits up again, pulling you up and into his lap. "Now let's try that again... Why were you crying?" The male asks, resting his chin on the top of your head, his arms wrapped around you in a comforting way. There was a long pause as you try to think of if you should tell him or not. Unconsciously, you begin to bite and chew on your lip. You wanted to tell him, you really did. But the thought of being so vulnerable- the thought of letting him see the real you, the broken, the damaged, the pieces of you that wanted nothing more than a short drop and sudden stop. Certainly he'd understand better than anyone else! He had too! But- he had so much to deal with already- adding onto that- you didn't want to burden him- or scare him off. You were his rock after all- and if that rock started to slide- who would catch both of you? As thoughts begin to start up again, Jin gently nuzzles his face into your neck, making you tense slightly. "Calm down, your heart rate is astronomical." He mutters against your neck, only really making it skyrocket further. "Hah, look at that, I still have the power to distract you." His other personality chuckles, making you huff lightly and look away. "Come on, just tell me what's up... I always open up to you. I always come to you for help when I start to feel down, like I'm splitting- you're my comfort. So- let me do the same for you." Jin says, now messing with your hair. "I'll do my best to help-" "Or at least help in distracting you and making you smile!" Giving a small sigh, you glance at the male out the corner of your eyes before looking down. "Okay- but- please- don't hate me." You say, making the blonde pull away briefly to look down at you, confused. "I couldn't hate you even if I wanted too." "Except when you eat my leftovers! I still haven't forgiven you for the deep fried cheesecake last week!" At this, you can't help but give a short, small laugh as you lean back into his chest. "Well...I've struggled with really bad depression my whole life." You finally admit, closing your eyes, almost as if afraid to see his expression. "I've been able to bury it around others pretty damn good though. I can easily be around the League or Giran and you- but the moment I have to deal with myself on my own- I dig myself into a deep hole." Feeling Jin's arm move from your waist to lightly tracing your jawline with a finger, you relax a bit more. His touches really were such a nice thing. Gentle and slow. "Most days I just feel nothing. Like- like going through the day is just another task I have to complete. Other days, like tonight- I end up feeling everything at once. There's no stop to it, really." You feel tears slowly stirring up again as you continue. "People half my age have done so much more than me, I feel like, at my age, I should have done something- anything! Yet, I can't find a job, my best friend, only friend and boyfriend are all the same person, I only talk to the League- I don't have friends. And-and." You hiccup as you curl up in his lap, a hand gripping his wrist as you pull it to you in a comforting manner- much like one might a pillow to hold. "I feel like such a disappointment, a failure. Like my life isn't even worth it." Turning to have your face against his chest, you bury your face there and try to stop the flow of tears. "You have to do everything for us- I'm useless- I don't- understand why you'd want someone like me. All I am is a huge headache and mess of a person. I have nothing going for me- so why? Why keep going?" By now, you were sobbing between words and trying to stop the shaking that rocked your body like a chihuahua. Jin was silent for a moment or two- a real concern, as he was almost never quiet. It seriously made you feel like your heart was in a vice grip- maybe you shouldn't had said anything. You start to pull away, looking up at Jin, who had tears in his own eyes as he held you tighter. "I'm sorry- that you felt you couldn't talk to me about this." He says, pressing a few kisses to your forehead, he hugs you as if he could lose you the moment he lets go. "I know how it can be- the loneliness- the fear....I know how it feels." Jin's voice wavered, as if he was keeping himself from sobbing on you as well. "But you're my heart. I can't live without you, doll." He states, his breathing hitched slightly. "We're both pretty fucked up, huh?" A weak laugh escapes the male as he nuzzles his face into you again. "Please, if you're going to help me- let me help you too. When you feel like this, I want to be there to cry with you." "And trust me, I can cry a LOT." This earns a small laugh from you as he smiles down at you in the dark, wiping at your tears. "I'm sorry you feel like that. But I want you to know that I love you, alright?" "Like- a lot. It's unhealthy. I think I might be love sick~" He says, gently clutching his head and hissing. "Shuddup." He mutters before sighing lightly. "I'm here for you, okay? And all these thoughts you have? They're just thoughts. We can get rid of them- like fighting off heroes! They may be strong, but we can overcome them!" "Through love and friendship!" Jin gives you a bright smile. "And you'll always have me! Sorry, you already threw out the receipt , no returns." He then gives you a few little chaste kisses, earning one of those laughs you know he adored so much. A small smile pulls onto your lips as you look up into those grey-blue eyes of his. Maybe this was a good thing for you- for both of you. Opening up to him was relieving and he seemed all too happy to hear you out. Jin had a way with words- even when he didn't mean too. It really did brighten the rather deep and unending tunnel. You knew the feelings wouldn't just vanish...But at least with Jin, there was someone to help you battle off these demons with. The way ahead would be heavily loaded with trials- but maybe just having someone there for you- at your side- would be the saving grace to keep you from diving into a permanent solution to this feeling. "Okay, okay." You sniffle lightly before leaning up and kissing his lips lightly. "I'll try and come to you when I'm like this from now on." You assure him before he gives you a rather excited smile. "I'm gonna be such a good supportive man." He says, pulling you back onto the bed with him, with you resting on his chest. "We're both pretty crazy, huh? Like we cancel out each other's weirdness." He teases as you get comfortable. "Cancel out is a strong way to put it." You hum as you look up at him, his hand gently stroking your hair. "Fine, fine- we help each other out mutually now." Jin chuckles, the rumble in his chest sending such a small signal of happiness to your brain that you finally feel a slight genuine smile. He was such a good man- How you were so lucky to have him, you didn't know. "So- how about some depression sex~?" His other personality asks, making Jin smack a hand to his forehead. "I-Ignore that." He mutters, shaking his head. "This is seriously not the time for that." He says, lightly smacking himself a few times in the head. You grab his hand and gently pull it down, placing a kiss on his palm. "Mnn, maybe it would help distract us though." You tease before giggling as he get's all flustered.

#jin bubaigawara #jin bubaigawara x reader #MHA #BNHA #LOV #bnha twice #lov twice

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myfeetkeepdancing · 4 years

Text

Blurred Lines | Tom Holland x Male!Reader

Words: 2198

Request: hello, if the requests are open (because I really don't know where I can see that) and if it's not too much to ask, you could do one where Tom is trying to learn some lines for a movie but as he has dyslexia (something I discovered from a photo on Instagram), Tom becomes sensitive so the reader helps him with that, then Tom cries and the rest I leave it to you as you want😅

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With his back to the door, Tom sat behind his desk. From the doorpost, you watch dark clouds gather above him. You could sense the frustration hanging about him—his chin resting on a tightly clenched fist. Once in a while, his other hand laced through his curls. Murmuring inaudible things to himself. Gaze stuck to the pages with endless lines for his next project. The fact that Tom didn't learn his lines on the coffee table or in the corner of your big, cozy couch was a definitive red flag. Usually, he would be all around the house. Practicing his lines, sharing his thoughts. His enthusiasm dragging you into enacting his favorite scenes with you. But not this time.

You take careful steps into the room, taking a seat beside the desk. "I've made you tea." Sliding the cup slowly across the wooden surface, resting your chin on the palm of your hand, quietly observing Tom, letting your presence sink in.

"Thanks..." He mumbled with his eyes stuck to the paper. Not paying you any attention. Watching him retrace the same line over and over again with his finger. A big draw of breath moves his hunched and depressing pose. "You know…" The mutters in a downcast tone you already dread hearing. It's gut-wrenching to see Tom like this. Quiet and turned to himself. "... I'm not-" Releasing a long sigh of frustration while shaking his head. Swallowing half his sentence. As sharp as his jawline already was, it sharpened even more as his jaw clenched hard. Struggling to regain his temper. His feet tapping the floor unimpeded. With a quick turn of his head, he eyed the door you came through. Rushing from his seat to close it. Just a tad bit too harsh as it collided with the frame. The loud slam resonating through the room and into the hallway. Poor Tessa. You only manage to catch a few fleeting words as he utters something about a draft before returning to this seat. His figure more hunched and leaning into the desk.

"Tom…" You try to reach him again. "What's bothering you?" With one hand, you slowly rub his shoulder.

By now, you got to know Tom well. You have to let him fume, release his frustrations. There were never personally directed at you. But stressful times could bare down hard on him. And even Tom had his limits. His sleep became irregular, mood swings to the extreme. And self-esteem at an all-time low. Tom became sensitive to so many things. Irritated by the simplest things. Sounds, simple gusts of wind, beams of light, reflections off surfaces. Stirring your coffee with a spoon could set something off. Everything was distracting him. The only remedy was allowing him to vent.

"It's just…!" He snarls, throwing his pencil to the wall. "I can't do it!" His voice boomed. Full of rage and frustration. Slamming his fist onto the paper, as if to punish it. "The words!" Tom wheezes while his nostrils flares angrily. "I have four more days, two of which are travel." He hangs back in his chair. Raking his fingers through his curls in frustration. "And I can't get these fucking lines into my bloody brain." Knocking a few papers from the stack with an aggravated swoop of his hand. He continues to avert any sort of contact with you. Staring at the ceiling while combing his fingers through his curls. They were unkempt. Tom didn't even bother to. A mess. That's what he was. His shirt was wrinkled, litter all-around—cups and wrappers from candy. Tom's shirt hangs loosely around his frame, his shoulders hanging low.

You re-seat yourself on the chair. Allowing your eyes to run across the lines. But before you are able to utter another word, Tom's ramble continues. His emotions finally let loose because of one thing. His eyes connect with yours. You stare into his eyes for a moment. Captivated by his pain. His misery. You only respond with a small smile—a reassuring one. Words wouldn't help.

"I won't!" He yells out. "I… just, I... can't do it!" Rubbing his hands across his face, shielding them from you. His breathing is heavy as everything else turns quiet. Just the two of you. He seemed so conflicted, shaking his head. Mumbling things to himself. "Everyone expects so much from me… and -and…" His voice suddenly breaks, seeing his chest heave up and down. Slow sobs begin to rack his frame. "I… can't." Tears start to stream freely down his cheek as you take his hands away. They tremble uncontrollably. Revealing his red teared up eyes. "I can't do it (Y/N)." He said while his whole body was taken over by the shaking from his sobs.

"Poor thing." You manage to get out as lump formed in your throat. "C' mere." Pulling him towards you, taking his shaking body on your lap, as he locks his arms around you. Burying his face against the side of your neck. Slow sobs turn into long sorrowful wails. Paused by moments of him recovering his breath. "It's going to be alright." Stroking your hand along his back. "It's ok, Tom…" Whispering soothing words into his ear.

"T-The words… they j-just d-don't stick." He snickers, clinging onto you for dear life. Seeking safety and comfort. Like a terrified infant. Rocking him slowly to and through. He felt broken. All his defenses washed away into tears. And you let him weep, howling at his insecurities. It's difficult to make out words as he continues to sob in between hicked breaths. "One moment they dance, the other they make no sense." Hugging himself tightly against you. "It takes so much energy. I… I can't do it." He weeps. "I just can't…"

"That's ok." Combing his curled up locks of beautiful brown hair with your fingers. You press a gentle kiss behind his ear. Tom was all warm to the touch, your shirt all wet and moist from his tears. The sobs trembling his frame to his very core. "Hey…" You whisper. "Listen…" Trying to get his attention as he slowly begins to calm down. Pushing the strands of brown curled hair from his forehead. Planting a kiss there. "Let's take a break." Lifting his face by his chin. Tom's gaze full of sorrow and misery. "Clear your mind. Find some fresh motivation, renew your energy, and start over."

"But, there's simply no time." No more tears came, but his lip jutted out, trembling.

"I'm here for you, Tom." Stroking your hand through his luscious curls. Feeling his breathing slow down. The tension in his frame subsiding. "I'm going to help."

"B-But... how?" Rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, being all runny. "I… don't know how."

"Hop in the gym. Release your frustration." You give him a reassuring smile, pressing your lips on his. "It'll help."

"Are you sure…?" Looking at you with big sad puppy eyes. "Don't you hate working out…?"

"I'm not going to." You chuckle. "You some time alone. I'll be here. I'll help you."

For a while, he said nothing, rising to his feet, standing there, digesting the information. His head hanging low. Gaze plastered to the floor. The exhaustion evident on him, as he weighed up the words. He looked hollowed out. "Ok…" He nodded, followed by a long weary sigh. Dragging his feet across the floor. With that, he disappears from the room. You turn your attention to his script. Highlighting his lines, putting on straps of paper, and more. It pained you to see Tom like this. But this time, you were prepared. Moments later, you hear the sound of progress. Sporting equipment being used vigorously, a boxing ball getting punished, and heavy weights slamming up and down.

"Babe!" Tom rounds the corner into the living room. Eyes glued to his script. "How'd… you-?" Reading through the many edited pages. "This is amazing!" To your relief, you see that cute smile returning to his features. Tom finally being himself again. Outgoing and joyful.

"Once you feel like it, let me hear your lines." You say with a growing smile. His happy response made the whole place light up again. The darkened mood finally gone from the air. "I've got plenty of space on this couch." Giving him a wink while opening a spot for him. The L shaped couch had this perfect spot in the corner. Cushions and blankets, space to stretch your legs. From day one, it's been a battle who sat there first.

"You're a lifesaver, you know that?" Jumping on the couch, thanking you with a long deep kiss. Before curling into your embrace between the blankets and cushions. His back snuggled up tight against your chest, allowing you to put an arm around his torso. "How did you figure this out?" He asks, pulling the blankets back into position.

"I knew it hindered you. I've seen you struggle before. But I wasn't aware how much more it affected you on set."

"I'm not proud of it." He sighs. "But please understand I wasn't trying to hide that from you on purpose. I... just didn't want you to worry."

"It's alright." Resting your head against his. "I'm just glad Harrison told me." Feeling all dreamy and happy Tom was himself again. "That's why I took a sort of course on it."

"Are you... for real?" He turned and raised himself on his arms, hovering mere inches away from you. A look of wonder painted across his face.

"I am, I've got the certificate lying around here somewhere." You said with a stretching smile. Actually feeling a bit proud of it. "I did because I wanted to get a better understanding of it all. The differences and variants and all that. But most importantly, how to help someone who has it. To help you. To lend you a hand. Give you tips and tricks. Because for me, it's been incredibly difficult to see you struggle. I've felt helpless for long enough."

"Darling." Tom lying on top of your chest, dragging himself upwards to kiss you. "That's incredible. But how'd you manage that besides the rest you do? You already have so little time for yourself. If you'd ask-..."

"Tom, I know you. If I'd ask you... you would have said no. I mean… you can be quite stubborn." Booping his nose with your finger. "You're a hardworking guy. You can take on the whole world if you need to. You played in the biggest movies with the greatest of actors. And turned into one. You became a role model for an entire generation. You're at the top of your career." Combing your fingers through his lovely brown curls, sighing dreamily. "And you deserve every bit of it. Yet there's so much weight on your shoulders. The eyes of the world are on you all the time. So, if there's one thing that hinders you from doing the things you love. I'll do anything to help you with that."

"Oh my God, babe..." His eyes sparkled with life, staring deep into yours with adoration, joy, and pride. You pull him closer to you. Feeling so comfortable together. Watching him, sucking on his lower lip, eyes slowly turning red, rubbing his face with one hand. Slow and steady, a small tear began to roll down his cheeks. You manage to catch it with the pad of your thumb before Tom connects his lips with yours. A passionate and loving kiss, deepening it by the grace of this hands on your cheek. "That is the sweetest thing you ever said to me." Crossing his arm on your chest, head on top, swaying with the heaves off your breathing.

"Tom, what does it say about a person, who faces his personal dilemma every single day, head-on, so he can do the thing he loves doing most?" Pressing a kiss on his forehead. "That takes guts. Determination. And a ton of it as well. I admire that in you. I really do."

"Shit..." Pushing the tears from his eyes. "I… I never knew you thought of me like that. I feel even more terrible about today. I'm so sorry." Kissing your lips in rapid succession.

"Don't stress it, we all have our off days." Pulling his soft lips back onto yours. "Even Spiderman."

"Tell me, love, what's your secret?" Snuggling closer to you. "You're always so calm. Always smiling. You radiate peace. How do you do it? It's like you don't have bad days."

"It's because of you, Tommy. I have you…"

"That leaves me with little to top that." A smile of pure joy and pride beamed onto you. "You're really special to me, you realize that?" He is cupping your cheeks with both his hands, leaning into you, and taking your lips onto his. Following into a long, tender kiss to strengthen his words. "I love you so much."

"I'll always be there for you, Tom." Feeling a small tear roll down your cheek. "Always."

The brown-eyed boy's gaze was so intense, so unbroken. Full of love. "I'll be with you." He whispers back. "Till' the very end."

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x male reader #tom holland x male!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland one shot #tom holland male reader #tom holland male!reader #male reader #male!reader #tom holland request #requests #male reader request

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handmaiden-of-varda · 3 years

Text

Grief

Pairing: Éomer x fem! reader

Summary: You and Éomer were betrothed, but when you discovered that you were dying from a poisoned wound, you decided leaving him would be best

Warning: Angst. Lots and lots of angst. Arguing. Stubborness. Bittersweet ending. Character death

A/N: Are you looking to torture yourself with a long, angsty fic? Then this is for you. I'm sorry folks, I just had to write this. Things had been really tough, and whenever I got depressed I would write sad stuff because my heart needs to be broken more. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

Pain. It was all you could feel after you woke up. You sat up with a groan, feeling as if your whole body was on fire.

"(Y/N)? Are you alright?"

You glanced at Aragorn, who were watching you from his spot by the bedside with a concerned expression.

"I'm fine, Aragorn. You need not worry about me."

He didn't look convinced however. "It's the pain again isn't it? Do you need more herbs to reduce the pain?"

You sighed. There was no point hiding it from him, he was the one who treated your wound afterall.

"It's alright, truly. I know there's no cure for this, so I might as well get used to it."

"You don't know that! Do not lose hope, (Y/N)."

"I would not lose hope if there was one to begin with. Even Lord Elrond could do nothing about it. I am simply being realistic." You argued.

"So you would rather bear the pain for the rest of your days? To have us watch you suffer?"

"What else can I do?"

He went silent for a while. "What about Éomer? Don't you think he deserve to know?"

It was your turn to fall silent. You and Éomer were courting before you left to join the fellowship. None of you knew for sure if you were going to meet again, so when he discovered that you were alive after the Battle of Helm's Deep, he asked for your hand in marriage and you vowed to remain by his side.

But that didn't last long. You had taken a poisoned arrow for him during the last battle, which weakened your body significantly despite all the efforts made to treat you. Unfortunately, the poison had spread and you didn't have long to live. Only Lord Elrond, Aragorn and Gandalf knew of your real condition.

"He doesn't need to know," you paused. "No, he cannot know. I will not let him be burdened by me."

"What are you going to do?"

"I need to leave."

Aragorn's eyes widened in disbelief. "Leave? Leave - surely you don't mean that?"

"Yes, Aragorn. I mean it," you said. "I do not regret saving him - I would gladly do it again in a heartbeat, but I also cannot let him live his life knowing the consequence of my action. He has just ascended the throne, and given my condition, I am no longer fit to be his wife."

"And what of the consequence, should you leave?" He asked quietly.

You closed your eyes, trying to keep your tears from spilling. It broke your heart to even consider this, and you knew it would break him too, but you decided it was for the best. You were dying. You loved him too much to let him suffer much worse than a broken promise.

"I would rather have him hate me, than for him to live with the grief of my passing."

"Even if that meant spending your life away from everyone who care about you?"

"Even then." By doing this, you thought you would also spare them from having to watch you pass away.

Aragorn finally relented. He wished you weren't so stubborn, that you wouldn't make such a painful decision alone. From what he knew of Éomer, he was certain the young king loved you just as much that he wouldn't leave you to face it all alone. Being one of your closest friends, however, Aragorn was fully aware that nothing he could do would sway you once you made up your mind.

He sighed. "Do you know where you will go?"

You shook your head. "Not yet. I admit this... is all too sudden, but I will find a way."

"Have you really thought about this? He needs you now more than ever."

"I have. And I need him too, but I have to do this for us."

He nodded. "You are in no condition to make a long trip. Go to Lossarnach. It is a safe and beautiful place not far from here. I will arrange everything. Will you at least say goodbye to the others?"

"Don't worry, I will."

"Very well. I do not condone this, (Y/N), but I will honor your wish. I hope you are right - that this is for the best."

"Thank you, Aragorn."

. . .

Éomer was furious. He did not understand why you would go, leaving nothing but a letter behind, after everything you had been through and after your vows. Did you not mean what you have said?

In the letter, you wrote that you wouldn't be able to fulfill your promise, that you were leaving and that you were sorry. No explanation, nothing.

He spent days racking his brain, trying to think what could possibly be the reason behind your departure. He knew you were wounded from the battle, having pushed him out of harm's way, and he had stayed in Gondor after Aragorn's coronation to accompany you while you were unconscious. But lately he had been busy with his duties as the new King of Rohan, and when he finally received the news of you regaining consciousness, you were already gone.

And it finally dawned on him - Aragorn must know something. So with a newfound hope, he sought out the other king.

As he stood before the entrance of the council room, he could hear voices from inside. He was about to turn to leave when he heard your name being mentioned, so he decided to linger.

"So she left just like that?" He knew that voice. Gimli.

"You read her letter, Master Dwarf." Aragorn said.

"Yes, yes but that didn't explain why she didn't say it to us directly!"

"She has her... difficulties."

"What is so difficult about saying goodbye to your own friends in person? Do we mean nothing at all to her? You better explain everything now, Aragorn, if you still see me as your companion."

Éomer found himself agreeing with the dwarf. But he would not reveal himself, not yet.

He heard Aragorn sigh.

"You put me in a tight spot, Gimli. You are a dear friend of mine, of course, but if I tell you then everything we have done would be in vain."

"Oh, so you play a part in her departure? I cannot believe this. Fine, if you're not going to tell then I will leave as well."

"Wait!" Aragorn exclaimed. "Very well. I will tell you, but for her sake please do keep this information to yourself."

"I'm listening."

"You know that she was wounded during the battle, right?" A pause. "Well, the arrow that pierced her was poisoned, and we were too late. The poison has entered her system and weakened her body, and there has been no cure to clear out the strange, deadly poison. I'm afraid she doesn't have much longer. She knew this. So she decided to spend the remainder of her days away, to spare us from having to watch her die."

"You mean to tell me (Y/N) is dying?? And you let her go, just like that?"

"Lower your voice, Gimli."

When Éomer heard this, his heart sank. He couldn't breathe. You were dying. You were dying because of him, and he had been oblivious, even accused you. He didn't care anymore as he barged into the room, surprising both Aragorn and Gimli.

"Where is she now?" He demanded.

Aragorn pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You heard us."

Normally, Éomer would be ashamed of himself for eavesdropping. But right now, he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Yes, Aragorn, where is she now?" Gimli urged.

Aragorn sighed. "She is in Lossarnach, in Imloth Melui. I have assigned a handmaid and a healer to look after her." I'm sorry (Y/N).

With the speed of light, Éomer ran out of the room to ready his horse. By noon he was already galloping towards Lossarnach, his heart beating faster and he hoped he would find you before it was too late.

. . .

You let out a small smile as you painted the beautiful scenery before you. The sun was beginning to cascade, tracing the sky with warm hues of pink, blue and orange. Flowers of every kind and colour scattered around the hill, swaying lightly in the gentle breeze. It was serene, yet it did nothing to dull the pain in your body. You felt a pang in your heart as you thought about your friends, about him, and you put down your brush.

"My lady?" Your handmaid asked beside you.

"I'm done for the day."

She nodded, gathering your supplies and leading you back to your house. Aragorn had given you a nice place to live, and you couldn't thank him enough for his help despite not agreeing with your actions. You sighed.

"I would like to walk alone." Before she could protest, you added, "I shall not be far. I just wish to clear out my head."

"Very well, my lady."

You walked slowly across the hill and to the bridge that overlooked a waterfall. You gazed sadly towards the sky and closed your eyes. You could hear footsteps coming your way, but you paid them no heed.

"I believe you owe me an explanation."

You went still. You recognized the voice.

Slowly, you turned your body to look at the owner of the voice. If your heart hadn't been broken already, it would've shattered to pieces when you saw the hurt in his face. He must've known then.

"Éomer," you breathed.

He walked closer to you. "Do you think so little of me?"

"I'm sorry - I... I know I am being stubborn, childish even. But I need to do this."

"Then explain to me, why did you do this? To me, to your friends? Do we mean naught to you? Do I mean nothing?"

"You mean everything to me, Éomer. This is why I didn't want you know that I'm dying."

"I will find a cure. There must be something-"

"Éomer," you cut him off. "It's alright. Don't bother. I have made my peace with it."

"But I have not!" He snapped. "I'm sorry. I... I wish it would have been me instead and not you."

"This was my choice," you whispered sadly. "I do not regret it."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why do you have to do this? Why did you choose to leave?"

"You don't understand, Éomer. I'm dying. I cannot fulfill my duties as your wife, as your Queen. I cannot help you with your burdens, I cannot carry an heir for you. And I certainly cannot let you watch me die," your voice broke as you held back a sob. "The kingdom is recovering. They need you now more than ever, and they need a strong Queen to rule by your side. I am not she. And I even if I was, the people couldn't afford another loss. Not so soon." I don't want you to mourn for me.

"So you thought leaving was the best." He said quietly.

Your head bowed down. He moved swiftly to cup your face, wiping the lone tear that escaped your eye with his thumb.

"We did not go through so much for you to say that. You know that I love you for you, and I care not for all those things. If you could choose to save me, if you could choose to leave, then I can choose to stay and face it with you, no matter the consequences. Just - just let me take care of you. Please." His eyes were pleading. "I would rather spend my whole life missing you but knowing that you were surrounded with love and joy in your last moments, than to live in regret for letting you suffer alone."

"But what of the people? Rohan needs you, Rohan needs her Queen."

He took your hands in his. "You are already a Queen in their eyes, my love. The people love you, and they have choosen you. They remember everything you have done for them, for Rohan. They know that there will be no King of Rohan if it wasn't for you. You have done your duties, and they will expect nothing more from you. We will face everything with you, together."

"Then so be it."

. . .

You could feel your time was approaching near, but you were not afraid. As Éomer promised, you had spent the remainder of your days in bliss, surrounded by your loved ones.

You had returned to Minas Tirith before continuing your way to Edoras, your home. To your surprise, your friends understood why you did what you did even though it pained them, some even accompanied you in Edoras. And true to his word, the people accepted you regardless of your condition. Of course, you still helped whenever you could, and they took a great care of you. Everything was going well.

"Éomer?"

He hummed and pressed a kiss to your forehead as you both laid down on the bed. "Yes, darling?"

"Can you promise me one thing?"

"Anything for you, my love."

"Promise me that you will move on and be happy."

He looked down at you with sorrow. He was painfully aware of what was going on, and he tried his best to fight his tears. "I cannot."

"You told me you would do anything," you mumbled. Your eyelids grew heavy and breathing had become difficult, but you needed to hear it from him.

"I cannot lie to you, (Y/N). I will live well, this I can promise you. But there shall be no other, for you are the only one for me and it will remain so until we are reunited again. Will you... will you wait for me?"

"If there is another life beyond death, I will wait for you." You gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Éomer. For everything."

You pressed your lips to his for the last time.

And with that, you closed your eyes as your soul left your body, bringing his heart with you to the afterlife.

Masterlist

#eomer x reader #eomer fanfic #eomer fanfiction #eomer imagine #eomer #lotr x reader #lotr reader insert #lotr oneshot #lotr fanfic #middle earth x reader #tolkien fanfiction #tolkien reader insert #angst #eomer x you #lotr

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chatousgirl · 3 years

Text

only forwards never backwards

Summary: There is something different about Rex too. Something broken, out of place in a trooper, more so in a captain.

TW: depression, low mental state, suicidal thoughts (the character doesn't act on them but they are described). Please, do not read this if you don't feel well. The warnings are there for a reason. It's mostly emotional hurt, with a small dose of comfort. If you need somebody to talk to, my inbox is open.

I wrote this impulsively, yesterday, and wondered whether to post it at all. But then, not all emotions are pretty and this is what makes us human.

Rex stares at the bland ceiling above him and tells his body to move. There is a meeting he needs to – wants to – attend. An informal one, with his vode. It is rare for them to be able to meet in person, so they take advantage of every opportunity to do so. The lull in battles drew the Jedi Generals to Coruscant Temple, their home, and some of their squads came with them. They managed to find a time that roughly suited them all, cashing in favours and exchanging shifts. Cody was the only one that got called on a sudden mission this morning and would leave in several hours. Thire, Fox and Ponds are all here. It should push him into action. The anticipation made him excited and yesterday he managed to do several additional tasks in an attempt to burn out the excess energy. It feels like he burned a tad too much since he can’t get out of the bed no matter how much he wants to.

“I’m alright,” he says but even to his ears it sounds unconvincing. Basing on the look Cody levels on him, he doesn’t believe him either.

“Don’t give me that pile of bantha shit, vod.”

Rex wants to reassure his brother it will be better because in the end there are periods when it is, but in this very moment the words get stuck in his throat.

“I need to fill out the forms,” he says instead. What he needs to do is get his shebs to the meeting.

“You filled three in the four hours you have been hiding there,” Cody says and his tone is almost gentle. Rex would sigh if he had enough energy to spare. The mattress dips when Cody carefully sits on the edge of the bunk. “I’ll bring them to Beam, he’ll be happy to help.”

Rex wants to protest. He’s the Captain, he can’t delegate his duties to someone else, no matter how eager they are to prove themselves. That’s an abuse of authority.

“Let us help,” the words are soft, just like the hand that cradles the back of his head. Rex leans into the touch, hates himself for it as he rolls over to wrap an arm around Cody’s middle. He thinks about the sheets of text written in the smallest font possible, rereading the same passage for the umpteenth time when the words don’t make sense and… concedes. Beam is thorough with his assignments and there’s no sensitive data in the documents to be worried about.

“Vor entye,” he manages to get out and pushes himself away, gritting his teeth at the loss of contact. Cody needs to leave, to take care of his own squad, to prepare for the upcoming mission. He wraps the blanket more tightly around himself, trying to ignore the burning wave of guilt and shame. Something must show on his face because Cody takes one look at him and practically throws himself on top of Rex, tangling their legs and pressing their foreheads together.

"Don't you ever feel like you have to apologise for this," he whispers, tightening his grip. Rex nods and rests his head in the crook of Cody's neck, the warmth radiating from his body anchoring him in the present.

He feels like crying, yet the tears don’t come. If the Kaminoans could see him right now, he would be decommissioned in a matter of seconds. It should serve as a motivation to get up, to prove his worth – his team is on leave, but there are always drills to work on or new strategies to plan. Instead, the though leaves him oddly numb, muddled brain pushing forward an image of his batch-mate failing to keep his cool during one of many assignments. Looking back, it was a major panic attack of a child too terrified to move in the rain of bullets, visions of death playing right in front of him. They didn’t understand it then. Good soldiers follow orders and the orders were to get across the battlefield. So, they did. Quick and efficient. Or as efficient as a group of cadets could be, anyway. All but one. Kaminoans took him aside and while the word ‘defective’ was never spoken aloud, the brother didn’t return.

There is something different about Rex too. Something broken, out of place in a trooper, more so in a captain. He pushes it aside for as long as he can, the adrenaline from the battles keeping him afloat. But there are days when the low hits and he can’t find the energy to get up from his bunk, to lead his brothers into the war they were bred for and will take their lives. There are days when all he can think of are murky waters of Kamino’s oceans, waves crashing against the shore as the storm keeps raging on. Rex sees himself walking on the pier, freezing wind whipping into his face as he kneels by the edge. He never jumps. Part of him wants to, imagines the shock of ice-cold water as he slips into the darkness, water filling his lungs. Part of him knows that in the same moment he will do everything to survive, primal instincts kicking in, trying to breach the surface, fighting for the oxygen. He wouldn’t manage, not against erratic tides, not with the armour weighing him down.

Sometimes it feels like falling. The world crumbles, slips from his fingers, and then he’s falling, a strange sense of vertigo and heart beating rapidly in his chest. He doesn’t hit the ground. Sometimes it’s Cody who catches him, with a firm grip but warm eyes. Sometimes it’s Ashoka, tips of her canines visible as she smiles at him. Sometimes he just stops, sudden and jerking and he wakes up covered in a cold sweat, the wind knocked out of him.

Rex wonders whether General Skywalker knows. He’d bet no, given the whirlwind of emotions General himself is. Commander Tano, on the other hand, probably suspects. During his worse days, she keeps an eye on him, strikes up a conversation or leaves him sweet fruits when the sight of ration bars alone makes him nauseous. It warms his heart and makes his steps just a little bit lighter, a day a little bit easier to get through. He thinks of his brothers, their steady warmth and shared life, stories filled with both joy and remorse, and the next breath takes less effort. It’s still painful as if there are shards of glass in his chest, but it’s a small step forward.

Only forwards. Never backwards.

#captain rex #commander cody #clone wars #potentially triggering #my writing #fic #star wars

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katsukikitten · 4 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could could do bakugo with a depressed and self-harming s/o? Shes trying so hard not to do but it was one of those days that the urge was almost impossible to ignore? Sorry if its too dark, i just feel this very mood rn. Sorry to bother you and i love your work ❤️💕

This would never bother me love. Please feel free to message me should you need me. You have my full support and I will always help you to my best abilities.

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM PLEASE DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER IF YOU FEEL LIKE YOU'LL LOSE THE BATTLE. I KNOW YOU ARE STRONG YOU CAN DO THIS.

It sat on your shoulder, weighing down on your mind, body and soul. Wispy fingers digging into flesh as it peers over you too curious for it's own good.

It smiles a jagged tooth smile as it sees what has your heart and mind racing so erratically. It morphs all on it's own as you stare at the 34% written in blotchy red ink and it seems to whisper with a gravely voice.

*"Worthless."*

You twist at your skin on your forearms agitating old scars that burn to be reopened and picked over for the next few weeks. Your forearm reddens from the Indian burn you're giving yourself all the while your mind stays on a dark loop. Repeating things over and over as you try to understand this failing grade.

As you try to wrap your mind around how in the hell could this be your fifth one in a row.

You were going to fucking flunk, you were going to have to say good bye to your dreams, to all of your aspirations as a hero. You thought you might as well go back to the dorms and start packing now as you proved to yourself exactly what you've always known and exactly what it's always breathed down the nape of your neck.

*"Not good enough."*

The skin begins to bloom in blues and purples, much like a moody flower as you're absorbed in thought trying to break the cycle of it.

Trying to ignore the call of old burns on your ribs from your friends curling iron, trying so damn hard to not hear that the school is teaming with sharp objects to slice yourself with.

So absorbed really that you do not hear the bell dismissing school, only the rushing blood in your ears.

Oblivious to the burning eyes that watch your hand work, that have seen the scars in training but would never be shameless enough to ask.

He figured it out quickly, noticing with deft eyes the neatly set rows of dated scars, of their organization and as far as he knew you had never been captured.

A strong hand wraps around the wrist that has been twisting the past hour.

"Enough. It's just a grade. I'll help you study." All biting voice as his vice grip dies down. He has your backpack on what is normally his free shoulder. You blush furiously, feeling shame heat your cheeks as you hadn't realized you were being so obvious.

"Let's go Y/LN!" He shouts now from the door trying to keep the bite out of his voice.

He fails as the chair scrapes against the cold linoleum. He bites his lip waiting for you to fall into step.

The walk home is silent and awkward at best. Embarrassment creeps in reddish hues onto your cheeks as you think of who else may have seen you.

Who else noticed your unstable mind and insecure actions?

The thought has you subconsciously twisting again as thoughts swirl faster and faster as they think of what will relieve the tension.

Did you have any more razors? Surely one of the girls did, if not the corner store.

But did you have the extra cash?

As you rack your brain for either a hidden stash of instruments or cash it hits you. You had that lighter your stole ages ago. It only took 70 seconds for a burn to form. 70 agonizingly lovely seconds for your skin to warp and bubble until the pain was so numbing you felt your body go slack. Your brain finally giving you endorphins you so thoroughly craved.

And the best part about a burn is that it would hurt for weeks after, and especially so any time you introduced it to hear. Skin jaded from its previous encounter with unpleasantly warm.

Just as your nails begin to break skin a calloused hand has gripped your wrist once more. Hand slipping into yours while intertwining fingers in a bone crushing grip.

"Whatever it is you're thinking. You better not." Its a threat that actually scares you.

How had he read your mind? You swallow thickly while trying not to look any more suspicious under his exceptionaly watchful eye.

Once the two of you reach the dorm he squeezes your hand tightly, slipping your back onto your shoulder before growling in your ear.

"Whenever you feel...down you come to me." His voice is darker than you've ever heard before he lets go of your hand waltzing into the dorms.

Days pass with the single thought of painful released flooding your system.

Anytime you reached for your lighter you thought of burning red eyes.

Of the wraith that would be looming in them.

Of the disappointment.

You gulp down air as you try to fight it especially now that the inanimate object seems to have gained a voice.

A voice that echos what the wispy black beast that hangs onto your back screams in your ear.

*"Do it. Do it. DO IT!"*

It said it every time you were in the shower and around razor heads lying around, screeched when it saw the sharp edge of a broken tile in the bathroom. It yelled it during practice as you watched Todoroki's flame lick greedily at the ground, at the walls of the fake city.

Dancing in the sunlight as if it were a savior, calling out to be caressed as the paint beneath bubbled and warped.

Your fingers had reached out. Had begun to feel the heat.

Until you were so selfishly ripped away by strong hands and heated scarlet eyes.

Shoving you to continue the mission.

It took on new words now as you reached for your box in your closet. Taking down the black shoe box of sad poems and long forgotten notes from long forgotten friends.

And as you stare down at the scratched chrome rectangle, flopping open the top.

You still hear that magical sound of sloshing butane. Now you just have to hope the flint is still good. Hesitation seizes your muscles as your thumb rests on the steel wheel, is this really such a good idea?

Think of all of the people who abandoned you when they found out.

Think of the hurt shining in your parents eyes when they saw the scars littering your body, wondering what they did to make you so unhappy.

Think of how you only feel smaller when you do it.

You're about put it away, seal it back in its black converse labeled coffin when that wispy small thought you'd tried so hard to talk over is finally heard.

*"But think of how good it feels in the moment."*

With that your thumb comes fully down, the flint sparks igniting the soaked wick that now dances in the comfort of your room.

Singing its praises, asking you to come closer for a reward.

You listen, bringing your hand down slowly over the lit lighter, as the heat turns from pleasantly warm to Redding burn.

Closer still you push your palm until your skin is in the flame. Silently ticking by the seconds.

35 have passed as you're halfway there, the smell of skin is staring to waft onto the air as your skin has already become distorted, discolored as the flames lovingly leave your with a heated numbness.

At least for now.

A knock comes at the door, earning you a small yelp. Suddenly the fire has become hot, burning as you flick closed the top and drop the lighter.

"J..just a minute." You call out starring at your palm gripping at your wrist.

"Hurry up. We don't have much time to study before bed. Your retake is in two days." His voice comes out gruff starling you even more.

You hadn't asked for Bakugou's help, so why was the hot head barking on the other side of your door.

Shit.

This was getting worse by the second. With nothing to wrap your hand it you tell yourself you'll be able to hide it as you reach for the doorknob. Causing a pain to shoot from your hand all the way up to your shoulder as you force the fried nerves onto a cool surface. Twisting as you go.

Maybe it wasn't your best idea to use it on your dominate hand.

But what's done is done.

"We c...can go to the common room and study." You suggest but barges himself in anyway standing just inside your door as he thinks of the best way to avoid the landmine of clothes and books scatter across the hardwood.

"Too loud." He dismisses finding the perfect path to your desk.

The perfect path that has his boot toeing the lighter. Causing it to skid into his sight. He leans over to pick it up, feeling the warmth coming from it and finally placing the odd smell that lingers in your room.

He glares over his shoulder as your heart pounds in your throat, causing a lump to form as you see what you told yourself was going to be there.

Anger.

Disappointment.

Especially so with how neatly he sets down the test materials, stepping with precise foot steps before he stands in front of you.

Heated sugar begins to flood the room before a few uncontrolled pops ring our over his shoulders and forearms.

"What's this?" He asks calmly which scares you more than anything and when you cannot answer he notices you hiding your dominate hand.

"N..n..nothing Bakugou. I...I found it on campus and thought it looked cool. I wanted to..to keep it." You stumble with frayed nerves as you avoid his eyes, telling a half truth. You do collect odd things that you find. Thinking they bring you fortune and you did find the zippo on campus, just not this one.

He looks you over debating before he grits his teeth. Hand causing the lighter to explode.

"And then you lie to me." He comes out dark, rubbing you the wrong way as you think of all the other faces his match right now.

As you remember that they gave you their backs becoming nothing more than memories and empty promises immortalized on line paper that rots in a coffin made of a black converse box.

You cannot stop the tears as you fall to the floor. Crying loudly and openly, large droplets raining down onto your shirt and the hard wood floor.

Bakugou's own heart lodges in his throat as he stares down at you.

Per the usual fucking up how you're supposed to react.

This wasn't supportive like the internet had said. Nor was it loving.

Hell, if anything this was the exact opposite of what was advised to do. And here he stood losing his temper over something you clearly struggled with.

The worst part to him was that there was nothing he could do to change this, to alter how you feel. To stop you all together and force you into a different, more healthy coping mechanism.

No all he could was watch from the sidelines.

And Bakugou Katsuki was a starter.

He sighs sinking to his knees pulling you into him as you stain his pressed shirt. Dampen it until nothing else comes out and the numbness begins to set in.

All the while he smooths down your hair and let's his hand travel down your back in a loving warm touch. When he thinks you are done he pushes you away so he can stare into your gorgeous eyes and admits what he never thought he would.

"I can't fix this for you. I can't take it away. I cant fight it off. Kiss it away. Fuck it away. Or rip the urge from your body." He squeezes your shoulders tightly, "Only you can do that."

The two of you stay quiet as you realize the weight of his words.

"You're the only one strong enough to fight this. I can support you, I can be a shoulder to cry on, a punching bag whatever. But I can't fucking fix this for you." Another pop from his shoulders before he let's out a shaking sigh, "But I sure as fuck believe in you. You stopped once. You can stop again. As long as you keep getting back up Y/N it doesn't matter that you *ever* fell. So please....please let me help you. Let me be that shoulder, that punching back. That void you vent to."

More tears glisten in your eyes as he kisses your forehead, he pulls you back into another death grip hug, voice threatening to crack as he adds.

"Please let me help you kick this things ass."

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou comfort #bakugou angst #bakugo angst #bakugo comfort #bnha ask #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bakugou asks #bnha kacchan #bnha au #bnha asks

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sakuwriteshere · 4 years

Text

Downfall

Title: Downfall

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Words count: 1887 words

Warnings: Death scare, slight smut (you’ll blink, you’ll miss it), mention of depression, fluff, comfort, spoiler (if you haven’t watch season 14 finale), subtle mention of drowing

Summary: During a hunt that went wrong, Y/N is remembering one precious moment she shared with Dean

A/N: So! This is my entry for @alleiradayne‘s 2020 Supernatural Summer Shut-in Challenge! I chose the following prompt: “You need to wake up because I can not do this without you.” Go following @alleiradayne if you don’t already!

A/N2: This is unbetated as always, and I apologize for any error or mistake. Enjoy your reading and please share your thoughts with me!

Downfall

The front door of the bunker closes in a loud bang behind them, Dean is leading the way down the stairs, his little brother Sam, right behind him, helping Y/N with the bags. Both Sam and Y/N don’t dare to speak, each of them particularly silent within the last hour. The drive back to the bunker has been gloomy to say the least.

Without even sparing a look at them, Dean heads for his room, leaving Sam and Y/N taking care of the rest. Contrary to Dean who is completely beat, Sam is still functioning, despite the repetitive recent lost battles, Sam keeps on believing. He’s really the only one between the three of them.

With a sigh, Y/N puts the duffel bag on the wooden table in the library, the different weapons rattling in the process. Sam watches her following Dean’s steps, helplessly. He wants to tell something, anything to help her, to help them, but what can he really tell them? That there is always a light at the end of the tunnel? That they will find a way, like they usually do? No. This time they are doomed, for good.

Her body is on autopilot as Y/N enters her own room, she doesn’t even waste her time to switch on the lights and prefers to let her body fall heavily on her bed. What’s the point in fighting anymore? They’re not going to win this fight. This one is too big. How can you defeat God, himself? Were they even supposed to go that far? Y/N doesn’t know anymore.

As she closes her eyes, allowing the tiredness enveloping her, she doesn’t even react when she hears her door opening in a creaky sound. She doesn’t need to wonder who it is, she perfectly knows.

The bed dips slightly as Dean lays down next to her. She can feel him manhandling her body and she willfully lets him do as he wants. Within a few minutes, Y/N is little spooned by Dean, his arms wrapped strongly around her waist while their legs are a tangled mess, caging her properly with his body, giving her exactly what they both need the most at the moment.

Warmth, protection, comfort and love.

Absentmindedly, Y/N’s fingers brush against Dean’s hand on her stomach as her mind keeps replaying the last previous hours. Chuck declared war, or more precisely, God announced the end of the World. How are they supposed to fix that? Everything they’ve been through, every choice they’ve made until now, thinking it was for the greater good, seems so meaningless. There is no free will, they’re not making their own choice. Everything has been decided for them long before they were even born. Even the most precious decisions they’d made aren’t truly their.

“Don’t.” Dean’s raspy voice sermons her, his hot breath tickling her cheek.

She doesn’t need to ask him what he’s talking about, he knows her like the back of his hand and how her brain works from time to time. Especially during those kinds of uncertain moments.

“Just stop thinking, alright? You’re not in the right mind to make the difference between what’s right or wrong.”

“But…” She turns her head slightly, trying to look at him but his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth make her fall silent.

“No buts, Y/N. I’m serious.” He tells her with a patronizing voice.

Y/N shifts a bit so she can turn around and face Dean properly. Once she’s in a comfortable position, Dean’s arms wrap around her once again, pulling her body against his.

“This is big, Dean.” She whispers and when she sees Dean’s cocky smirk, she’s quick to add “I don’t mean that.”

Dean chuckles and pecks her lips, he’s satisfied with himself because for a second she has stopped thinking about Chuck. He would do anything to make her feel better and he knows exactly what she needs to keep her mind out of focus.

Slowly, Dean brings his face closer, their breaths mixing as they share a kiss. At first it’s gentle and tender, a soft brush of the lips, just enough to feel each other’s presence. A silent reminder that they’re still both alive. Then, Dean’s mouth is becoming greedy, claiming her lips just the way she likes it. One of his hands unwrap itself, sliding up her side, leaving goosebumps in its trail, until it reaches her face. His big hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking the skin underneath while his tongue runs over her bottom lip, silently asking for more. A request she’s more than happy to grant.

Lost in their tender battle of teeth and tongue, fighting each other for dominance, their bodies start moving on their own. Dean comes on top of her, parting her legs so he could fit between them more comfortably while she lays down on her back, the kiss never breaking. Despite the heated moment, Y/N’s mind still goes back to the big problem, keeping her from really enjoying the intimate moment.

As if he’s a mind reader, Dean parts slightly, their breathings short and uneven as he gives her a sullen look.

“This,” He starts to say as he grabs her hand and presses it against his beating heart. “Is real, ok? We’re real and meant to be. I don’t care if it’s because of God or Destiny or some wrinkled old witch. We’ve found each other and I'm gonna hold onto that until the end, ok?”

Y/N can only nod at that. It always baffles her how easily he understands her. It’s like he’s reading her like an open book.

“Your biggest enemy is not Chuck, Y/N. It’s this.” Dean says pressing two fingers against her temple. “Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.” He adds, forcing a small smile.

She knows how right he is because she has witnessed his darkest moments. Being able to let the other one see how down you are, to share with him her deepest fears and secrets, it asks a lot of trust to let it happen. And she trusts Dean with all her heart, of that she is sure.

“I love you.” The words hit her like a ton of bricks. It’s not the first time she hears them, but Dean isn’t not really the confident type of man, so whenever he utters those three words it always makes her heartbeat go wild, making her feel alive and strong because she knows it’s the truth. He loves her as much as she loves him. It’s not even funny how strong they fell for each other.

“I love you too.” She whispers and here comes the smile she loves. The genuine one, when she can see his pearly white teeth, the wrinkles deepening at the corners of his eyes. Despite the dim light, she can see how green his eyes are, full of love and promises.

Soon, his face becomes serious again, the longing glint replaced by a needy one as Dean leans over her. They share another kiss, this one greedy, demanding, their hands flying around them to get rid of the unnecessary clothes.

“Stay with me. I need you.” Dean gasps, trailing hot kisses down her collarbone.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She pants, sinking her nails in his lower back as she arches under his ministrations, searching for more contact.

“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” Dean says, both of his hands suddenly cupping her face.

“Wh-what?” She stutters, blinking twice when she notices the fear in Dean’s eyes above her.

“I’m begging you. Don’t do this to me. Wake up!” His voice resonates around her before a blinding light attacks her eyes.

She wakes up with a start, taking a big breath in the process, filling her lungs with much needed air. The first thing that hits her is Dean’s body, literally, as he engulfs her in a bear hug. Still trying to understand what happened, she wraps her arms around him, noticing how heavy her clothes felt, then she realizes she’s completely drenched and freezing. She tries to ask him what’s going on but her body is trembling so hard, and her mouth refuses to form something more than shaky sounds.

“Shh. I got you. I got you.” Dean shushes her, the embrace tightening and keeps repeating the words again and again. They are more for himself to be honest, he needs to tell himself that she’s alright.

“Come on let’s go back to the cabin.” Dean whispers before kissing her temple and holding her up in his arms.

There’s nothing better than a warm shower and a cup of hot cocoa. Bundled with big covers, Y/N watches Dean ending his phone call with Sam. The older Winchester told Sam everything about their last case and assured his little brother they are leaving the cabin first thing in the morning.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asks as he sits next to her on the couch, one of his arms wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her body against his. He kisses the crown of her head before he lets himself relax completely. Now that the case was over and Y/N was breathing, his mind could be at ease.

She takes a sip of the hot liquid, wincing as it burns the tip of her tongue. She shrugs as she feels fine, considering she almost died two hours ago. She thought the werewolf would attack her, not hit her hard on the head before pushing her unconscious body into the cold river.

“This is the last time you’re playing bait. Watch my words, Y/N. I mean it.” Dean warns her, his eyes dead set on her. He is really serious. She still can see the worry in those green eyes she loves so much.

Y/N closes her eyes before she puts the cup on the coffee table in front of them. She adjusts her body on the couch, pushing the covers away then pats her tights, motionning silently Dean to rest his head on her lap.

“I should be the one comforting you right now.” Dean argues nonchalantly but lays down nonetheless.

“I’m fine don’t worry. You already took care of me.” She reassures him, her hand threading Dean’s hair in a soothing manner as soon as he was comfortable.

“Did I?” Dean asks, a content sigh leaving his lips as he relaxes completely under her soft touch.

She hums, her gaze lost in the void, enjoying the peaceful moment meant just for the two of them. Silence envelops them, for the rest of the night they can pretend they are just regular human beings. No more hunt, no more death scare, just two people in love and taking care of each other. The comfortable silence being disturbed only by Dean’s soft snores while Y/N watches over during his much needed sleep, a soft smile curling at the corner of her lips.

Dean is right, as long as they have each other, there’s no reason to give up. Chuck might be God but he made his biggest mistake by bringing Y/N Y/L/N and Dean Winchester together he just created his downfall.

FIN

Pour Toujours Tags: @drakelover78, @akshi8278

#alleiradayne's 2020 SSSI #spn fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x you #female!reader #reader insert #supernatural fanfiction #oneshot

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