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dixons-sunshine · 12 days

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Holding On To You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite not being too keen on PDA, Daryl craved comfort too. He got that comfort by holding your hand in his. It wasn't always that simple, though. He had to work his way up to being comfortable with that. Luckily, you were a patient person.

Or, three different scenarios in where the archer shows progress in his comfort with you.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre-prison (on the road); pre-Alexandria; Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, migraines, mentions of injuries.

Word count: 2.1k

A/n: @louifaith, the muse you are, feeding our Daryl obsessed minds with your beautifully crafted scenarios. I wasn't feeling well today (a migraine and I was pretty dizzy) and didn't get much writing done, but this idea deserved to be written. There's a bit of Eugene slander in this but it's because I don't really like S5 Eugene. He's way better in the other seasons imo. Anyways, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The cruelty of life seemed endless. With the stability and safety of the farm being something of the past, having to scavenge for scraps and having to move from house to house every few days, and with the impending arrival of Lori's little baby, everyone's spirits were diminished. Everyone longed for the comfort the farm brought for those few weeks you had all been looking for Sophia, everyone wanted a decent meal to satiate their hunger and although Lori's unborn baby was a reminder that innocence still existed, it was also a cruel reminder that you all needed to find someplace to plant some roots, and fast—especially if you didn't want to attract the dead with the baby's loud crying.

You sighed softly as you quietly followed behind Daryl, yours and his boots making clear tracks in the deep snow. The archer, as observant as ever, noticed your shift in mood and turned his head, eyeing you carefully.

“Ya alrigh'?” he questioned, turning his attention back to the tracks in front of him. Your relationship was pretty new, only having been "officially" together since the two of you had shared a kiss back after the fall of the farm.

You nodded, although he couldn't see you. “I'm fine.”

Daryl hummed, unconvinced. “Yer not fine. I know ya better than tha'.”

Your lips twitched up into a smile, walking a little faster to walk next to him. Daryl slowed his pace slightly to allow you to walk next to him at a steady pace, eyeing you as you adjusted your compound bow over your shoulder—a gift he had gotten you when you had mentioned wanting to learn how to hunt.

“I'm fine, I promise. I'm just tired, that's all,” you replied reassuringly, walking almost shoulder to shoulder with your partner.

Daryl shot you a worried look, fully prepared to head back. “If yer tired, we can go back. This trail ain't leadin' us anywhere, anyway.”

“I don't mean tired in the literal sense,” you corrected. “I'm just tired of all this moving around. Not knowing what our next meals going to be, if we even eat at all, not knowing when our current camp's going to be overrun with walkers, not knowing when Lori's baby's going to be here... It's mentally exhausting. We all need a break.”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We could do with a couple' of days where we ain't gotta worry.”

Before you could respond, there was a snap of a twig ahead of the two of you. Instinctively, you and Daryl raised your respective weapons in the direction of the noise, expecting to find a walker staggering towards you. However, instead of coming face to face with danger, you saw a small deer walking over to something in the distance.

Daryl raised his crossbow, aiming to take the shot. However, your hand on his arm halted his intentions. He shot you a questioning look, but you only hushed him and beckoned for him to follow you. The two of you slowly crept closer, the scene before you becoming clearer. The small deer made its way to what was presumably its mother, nuzzling against her legs.

You smiled softly at the sight. Despite the fall of the world, beauty still remained. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl was thinking the exact same thing at that moment, but he wasn't looking at the deer. He was gazing at you, taking in your radiant smile, the sparkle in your eyes, just everything about you. You truly were beautiful to the archer.

Hesitantly, Daryl brushed his hand against yours. Your smile widened but you made no move to grab his hand, not wanting to scare him off. You moved at his pace, and whether he held your hand at that moment was his decision.

In the end, the only thing he did was link his pinky with yours, and it was a perfect moment for you. In your mind, that was really good progress for a man who wasn't familiar with giving or receiving comfort. You'd wait as long as you needed to for Daryl to be comfortable around you. You'd never push him, never.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The road seemed endless. You listened to the incessant yapping from one of your newest companions in your group of ragtag survivors, Eugene Porter, and had to resist the urge to tell him to shut up. Despite the euphoria and relief that came with reuniting with your group and having new members that could help you all, you were tired. Not just physically, but mentally, too. It was so much worse this time around than when you were initially on the road two years back. You were sporting a bruised cheek with deep cuts and scrapes littering the rest of your body, and you had a raging migraine.

And Eugene's droning wasn't helping matters at all.

As if sensing your deteriorating resolve at not biting the poor man's head of, Rick finally called for a break. “We rest here for now. We'll get moving again in an hour. Everything you want to do, do it now. Once we move again, we're not stopping until nightfall.”

Everyone soon dispersed, some heading to a nearby creek to refill the water supply, some starting a small fire to heat up some food and some even laying down on the hard ground to get some much needed sleep. You walked over to a tree and slid down against it, resting your head on your knees, willing the migraine away.

You soon heard a rustling next to you, before feeling a body sitting down next to you. You didn't even have to look up to know it was Daryl—the archer's presence was something you had grown used to and you could identify him anywhere.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly, loosely hugging his knees. “Ya alrigh'?”

You hummed, lifting your head to look at him. “I'm fine,” you replied. “I just have a migraine.”

Daryl nodded, his face showing sympathy for you. “M'sorry we dun' have anythin' fer yer migraine. I know how bad they can get.”

You smiled and shook your head, placing your hand on the ground beside you, right between you and Daryl. “It's okay. It'll go away eventually. It's not that bad, as long as Eugene's quiet.”

Daryl chuckled, eyeing the aforementioned man who was sitting near the campfire. “Yeah, he's quite annoying, ain't he?”

“No, he's alright. He just needs to learn to be quiet from time to time.”

Daryl hummed and quieted down, simply basking in the early afternoon heat under the shade of the tree while the two of you observed the survivors going about their chores. However, Rick soon called for everyone to regroup, and you and Daryl got up to follow behind him.

You and Daryl walked at the back, giving you some semblance of privacy, and some semblance of relief from Eugene's rambling as he was at the front with Abraham and Rosita. Slowly and hesitantly, Daryl moved closer to you and brushed his hand against yours, before slowly interlacing his fingers through yours.

You smiled up at him, and he returned the smile with a small one of his own. It may not have been the first time that you've held hands with the archer, but it was the first time that you've done so with people around. Although Daryl slightly manoeuvred the two of you in a way that your locked hands wouldn't draw attention if people weren't directly looking at you, it was still a big deal for you. He was starting to show you off publicly. Although people back at the prison knew you as "the hunter's girl" because of an incident where a guy flirted with you and Daryl put him in his place, PDA wasn't something they ever saw from the man. He preferred to keep that part of your lives private—so this simple gesture was a big deal.

You squeezed his hand, a gesture you and Daryl had come up with to quietly tell the other "I love you". Daryl smiled softly and squeezed your hand back.

You truly loved this man, and he had shown countless times that he loved you, too.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“You guys should come over again. This was nice,” Eric told you with a smile, him and Aaron walking out onto the porch with you and Daryl.

You smiled at him and nodded. “We will, especially if you're going to be serving that spaghetti you made again. It was delicious. Seriously, thank you. It's the best meal we've had in a while.”

“No thanks necessary,” Aaron replied, waving you off. “It was our pleasure.”

Daryl nodded, moving to shake Aaron's extended hand. “Thanks. This was a hell of a lot better than tha' party at Deanna's woulda been.”

Aaron nodded and withdrew his hand again, allowing Eric to take his place before moving over to give you a hug. You returned it before giving Eric a hug too, and then pulled back.

“We should get going. Once again, thanks for tonight.”

“Once again, it's our pleasure,” Eric laughed. “Goodnight, guys. We'll see you around.”

“Goodnight,” you greeted them.

“Nigh',” Daryl responded, turning to you and subconsciously extending his hand to you.

You smiled at him but didn't say anything, not wanting him to change his mind about it. You slipped your hand into his and walked with him down the porch steps and into the relatively quiet streets of Alexandria, music from Deanna's party playing very faintly in the background.

You and Daryl didn't instantly go home. You simply walked through the streets, familiarising yourselves with the community. Daryl never let go of your hand; he had even brought your hand up to his lips once to kiss your knuckles, and your heart swelled with love for the man.

The two of you had run into a couple of the people in the community who were returning to their homes after the party, and you had suspected that Daryl would pull his hand from yours, but he never did. His grip on your hand seemed to tighten slightly during your interactions with those people, seeking your comfort around people he didn't know. It made you feel special, important. It made you happy to know that the man you met back at the quarry trusted you enough to bring him comfort.

Later that night, when the two of you returned to the empty house and retreated into the sanctuary of your shared basement, snuggled up together under the covers was when you finally addressed what he had done. Daryl was laying with his head on your chest, absentmindedly tracing shapes and figures onto your hand.

“You held my hand today,” you told him, softly threading your fingers through his freshly washed, brown locks, the shower having been courtesy of your skillful convincing.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed absentmindedly, nuzzling his face deeper into your chest.

“In front of people,” you said, eyeing his reaction carefully.

Daryl simply glanced up at you, his face not revealing anything. “Ya want me to stop doin' tha'?”

You shook your head. “No, I like it. It's just a little out of the ordinary for you, and it took me by surprise.”

Daryl was quiet for a few moments. “I always wanna hold yer hand when we're walkin' together. I jus' never had the courage to. Dun' want people to overreact when they see it. But, I dunno... I love ya and I'll be damned if I dun' hold my girl's hand 'cause of wha' people think.”

You giggled and kissed the top of Daryl's head. “So I can expect an increase in handholding?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah.”

You smiled at him. “Good. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. I love you, Dar.”

Daryl placed a kiss to your chest, before laying his head back down. “Love ya more, sunshine.”

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ridhearts · 1 year

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As you return home, a new friend is thrown into your arms - literally.

*note: this au follows a specific order! please click below for the chapters as they're intended to be read!

overview. ♕ chapter i. [chapter is.] chapter ii. chapter iis. chapter iii. chapter iiis. chapter iv. chapter v. chapter vs. chapter vi. chapter vii.

Intermission I - An Unexpected Guest

By the time you crossed the border into your country, night had already fallen. The rough pebble roads, torn apart by conflict, jostled your carriage, jolting you from the peaceful nap the roads of the Queendom and Savanna lured you into. Sighing into the plush wall, you looked out at the scenery with bleary eyes. Lantern-lit houses dotted the road, huddled far from the well-traveled path in fear. A light mist curled at the ground, gripping the sleek carriage wheels as they turned. In the distance, settled in the valley path leading to the blot-dominated chasm, a thicker, darker fog billowed up into the air - a grim reminder of your most likely fate.

As you approached the castle, you did your best not to worry your bottom lip between your teeth. Riddle would have your head for that, and if you happened to be given another invitation to go meet with the monarchs of any other countries, you had to look your best. Heaving another sigh, your eyes trailed up the abandoned scaffolding and broken sections of tower walls that were becoming clearer and clearer as the carriage drew closer.

Your eyes were drawn to a sudden movement in the distance, visible in the spaces between the scaffolding. Where the dark, swirling fog of the boundary between your country and the shadowlands settled, one single plume rose into the sky. The thin, spindly tendril curled around itself, leisurely stretching past the light gray mountains and disappearing against the backdrop of the midnight sky. Something cold and uneasy sank to the bottom of your stomach. You had never seen such a thing happen before.

Scrambling to the other seat of your carriage, you pulled on the small curtain and reached through the window to tap the coachman, who yelped in response. Even though you were far from the disturbance in the boundary, you still shushed him - rather ungracefully, to your chagrin. His confused, startled eyes peered at you over his shoulder as he pulled on the reins, willing the carriage to a stop.

"Do you see that?" You whispered, pointing to the tall spindle of fog. The coachman followed the imaginary trail your finger made, squinting to make out the details in the dark. You watched as the wrinkles by his eyes smoothed and his face went slack.

"What in the world…?" He murmured. In front of him, the horse pulling your carriage huffed and shifted on its hooves. You wondered if it felt the coachman's sudden uneasiness. Clearing his throat, the coachman tried to sound authoritative despite the tremble in his voice. "Fear not. I will get you to the castle safely and your family can hide while we send out troops to investigate."

"What? No!" You hissed. The frame of the carriage window was too small to fit your head through, but you pressed your face as tightly as you could against it anyway. "Take me to it. I'll check it out."

"But your highness," he protested calmly, "I cannot allow any harm to befall you. Please, allow me to take you back to safety."

"If there's a breach in the boundary, nobody will be safe anywhere," You argued back. Then, betraying your own fear, you added, "Besides, it's such a small thing. Probably just the wind. All we need to do is confirm."

Your fake level voice was far more convincing than his had been. You almost let a proud little grin show on your face, but you needed to act the part of a leader. The coachman was almost convinced by your cool attitude, but he hesitated once again.

"Protocol states that your safety must be preserved at all costs."

"What does protocol state I should do when a member of the castle staff refuses to listen to a command?" You asked. The coachman opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. "Take me to the boundary."

Huffing, you threw yourself back to your original seat in the carriage, crossing your arms and staring out the window at the boundary. The carriage didn't move for a moment, the coachman clearly getting his bearings. You tried to embody Riddle - the petulant, self-assured version of him, the one who would never let a member of castle staff disregard his word - but something gnawed at you. After all, you weren't raised to be an absolute authority or a strict ruler. You were raised with good old common-folk manners.

Sighing once more, this time much more dramatically, you crawled back to the window behind the coachman and gingerly pulled aside the curtain. "Take me to the boundary, please. And thank you."

A beat. The coachman cursed under his breath, then the carriage started to move.

Once you arrived at the boundary, you threw open the door to the carriage and stepped out before the wheels stopped turning. The coachman called out for you while simultaneously swearing at the horse for stopping so slowly. You stopped in your tracks, eyes fixed on the mingling fog, weightless white twining with deep, dominating, inky black. There was a single spot directly beneath the rising plume that looked a little thinner than the rest of the boundary, like a gaping void that could swallow you up. With a tentative step backwards, you shouted for the coachman.

“Do you have a sword?” You asked over your shoulder, unwilling to take your eyes off of the breach. The coachman wordlessly walked to you, his shoes scraping across the loose gravel until he stopped at your side. When you held your hand out for the sword, he looked at you as if you were insane.

“Your majesty, surely you don’t expect me to allow you to approach the boundary by yourself.”

“I have military training.”

“As do I. We would not allow the royal family to go so far from home without the proper protection.”

Casting a sidelong glance to the coachman, you nodded once, firm and assured. If you hadn't been in your serious battle-ready mode, you would've flushed at having overlooked such a sensible detail. The two of you crept closer to the opening. Your footsteps were careful, purposely as silent as they could be on the rocky ground. Your legs kicked up some of the white fog, the two of you wading through it like knee-high waters. The fabric of your rumbled clothing bunched at the bottom, effectively chilling your ankles in the cool night air. The cavernous abyss waited for you, watching the two of you move with a languid lethargy, two startled deer approaching a lion waiting to pounce.

When you accidentally kicked a small shower of pebbles, both you and the coachman froze. Where the shadows and the fog were twirling around was now completely, utterly still. No wind dared to blow; no human dared to breathe. Then, the unmistakable sound of a twig snapping caught your attention.

“GNYAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Something small and black flew out of the breach, almost as if it had been propelled by a canon. The coachman stepped in front of you in a flash before you could even lift your arms up to your face. He held the sword defensively, bunting the creature out of the air. Startled blue eyes stared up at the coachman for a split second, while blue flames licked out of the creature’s ears and illuminated its cat-like face. The coachman faltered, and the creature struck.

It jumped on the coachman’s head, digging its claws into his scalp and yowling louder than you’ve heard any other animal scream. The coachman dropped his sword and stumbled back, trying to coax the animal’s claws out of his head and pull it off at the same time. Tripping over his own feet, the coachman landed flat on his back and you dove for the sword.

You didn’t have a moment to worry about whether or not you might hit the coachman. The moment you skidded to a stop beside him, you raised the sword above your head and put all your weight behind the swing. The creature noticed the shadow you cast and looked up at you, panic flashing in its eyes when it registered the sword.

“W-WAIT!” It yelled in plain English.

You stopped, nearly teetering over from the momentum of the sword. The coachman rolled out of the way, picking the creature up by the scruff of its neck. All the while, the creature yelled and complained in words you could understand, though its body hung limply from the coachman’s hand. While both you and the coachman panted to catch your breath, you looked to the boundary, only to see that the breach had closed.

“What is that thing?” You asked once you caught your breath, staring at the creature. It watched you with a flat, unamused expression. You almost thought it was pouting.

“I…have no idea,” The coachman admitted. Realizing the boundary was solid, he huffed and held out his hand. “Give me the sword. I’ll finish the job-”

“WAIT! No!” The creature wailed, kicking its legs as much as it could. The coachman furrowed his brows, focusing on keeping his grip on the creature firm as it wriggled.

You gestured for the coachman to relax before standing in front of the creature. “You can talk?”

“Duh! Don’t you have ears?” The creature responded. Its tone was dripping in pure pomposity.

“How did you get through the boundary?”

“I’m the great Grim! I can do anything!” It said with a self-assured smirk. You and the coachman exchanged exasperated glances.

“Such a powerful, unidentifiable creature poses a threat to national security, wouldn’t you say?” You asked the coachman. He nodded sagely while Grim’s eyes darted between the two of you, panicked.

“Might I suggest the dungeon, your majesty?” He asked.

“Ah! Wait! No, let me explain!” Grim insisted, wriggling his legs again. “I - I don’t actually know, okay? I was lookin’ for food, got too close to the border, and it just spit me out!”

“What were you doing in the Shadowlands?” The coachman asked firmly. Grim shrugged as best as he could while in his grasp.

“I dunno! I think I lived there? But, to be honest, I don’t really remember…”

You and the coachman exchanged looks again, clearly dubious. Grim’s stomach grumbled almost as loudly as his earlier yowling.

“What should we do?” The coachman murmured. His eyes narrowed on the dejected creature in his hands - clearly, he wanted to get rid of the noisy nuisance. A sympathetic string was pulled in your heart, though, and as you looked at the creature with tears in his eyes, you couldn’t just leave him here to die.

“I think I should welcome my first royal guest,” You answered. Then you reached out and collected Grim in your arms, holding him like a baby. He shrank into you, probably wanting to stay as far away as possible from the coachman. “He may remember something and be able to give us valuable information about the Shadowlands. Besides, he’s in our country now, and I refuse to let any of my people go hungry.”

Though he appeared utterly disappointed, the coachman didn’t put up a fight about your official decision. He held the door open for you instead, making sure to give Grim a cold glare before taking his spot at the front of the carriage. Finally, you would make it home.

“You’re way more reasonable than that guy,” Grim muttered. You tried not to chuckle at your coachman’s expense.

By the time you were allowed to return to your room, the sky had turned a deep sapphire blue, trying to keep the last cover over the world against the rising sun's persistence. Processing Grim wound up taking hours, because, apparently, he was a creature composed entirely of mysteries.

The first thing you had to do was debrief your father on the situation. After answering a generous amount of questions about the momentary breach, you explained how a catbeast had been launched out of the shadowlands and into your arms. Your father was a curious and courageous man, so you led him to the dining room where Grim was feasting on some bread and meats. The two of you went unnoticed while he gobbled up his food in record time.

“What do we do with him?” You whispered, watching with morbid interest as he gulped down his food. When not mistaken for a terrifying threat to your country and the entire continent, he was sort of cute…in an annoyingly endearing way.

Your father hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I can't say I know. Are you certain he isn't dangerous?"

You shrugged. Grim seemed like a lot of things - arrogant, reckless, gluttonous - but dangerous didn't seem to be in his wheelhouse. Not when he was so scared of your clumsy attempts to disarm him, or how he curled into you to avoid the coachman's wrath.

"Fairly certain," you answered. "I know that anything from the Shadowlands should be treated as a threat, but look at him. He's different. He's more sentient than the phantoms and he's been docile ever since we stopped trying to attack him. It didn't feel right leaving him to starve…or cause panic if he was spotted in town."

"I think you made the right choice," With a nod, your father waved for one of the guards nearby to approach. "However, the coachman wasn't incorrect in his caution. We'll keep him locked in one of the unfinished guest rooms until we figure out how much of a threat he is."

"All by himself?" The guards approached Grim then, gently leading him towards the new quarters your father assigned. Grim didn't put up much of a fight, satiated by the food and the promise of a bed.

"Better than the dungeon, wouldn't you say?"

"Have the dungeons been repaired already?" During the war, the revolutionary forces staged a raid to free the political prisoners locked beneath the castle. Your father always told the story of smoke and gnarled metal like it was an old hero's tale and not his own doing. As he reported, the dungeons suffered massive damage and were nigh on unusable once everybody cleared out. Perhaps it was ironic that now he was the one in charge of cleaning up his own mess.

He averted his gaze, indicating that no, they had not been fixed and that was why Grim was being afforded such luxurious accommodations. You expected a spark of indignation to flash inside your chest, but you could see the logic behind the blasé way your father talked about imprisonment. Allowing Grim inside the castle at all was a gamble. Before you could trust his intentions, you had to learn something about him. Even then, there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t succumb to blot exposure at some point. Keeping him on lockdown was the most sensible option.

“Alright,” You agreed. “I’ll be checking on him every day, then.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Giving you an affectionate pat on the head, your father turned and went to give orders to those who would be keeping Grim under watch.

Finally, you could sleep.

As it turned out, Grim was a destructive force.

The first few days, though he complained about being held prisoner, he was easily placated with food. When you asked him questions, he got a little irritated after the first few, but his tune changed quickly once you offered snacks in exchange for true answers. He didn’t cause large amounts of trouble for the guards who tended to him when you couldn’t, even though he liked you the best.

Then he got restless, and things got a little more difficult.

Upon entering his room, you saw that the ends of the bedsheets and all of the curtains had been ripped to shreds. Grim sat in the middle of the room, postured much like a housecat, watching the door in smug satisfaction. For a moment, you weren’t sure what to do with the tattered scraps of cloth strewn around the room. Instead, you silently shut the door and instructed the kitchen staff to withhold dessert from him.

He let you have it the next morning, bemoaning how you starved him and your kingdom clearly didn’t know how to treat guests. Then, catching the glint of your silver crown as you shook your head in exasperation, he had the audacity to try and bargain for answers. He just wanted a couple of jewels! It wasn’t anything a monarch would miss, surely.

When you wouldn’t cave to his demands, he took to escape attempts. The first time, he nearly made it out of the front doors, but you dove for him and crashed on the hard, polished floors. He kicked and squirmed in your arms, yowling about wrongful imprisonment and tyrannical rulers. His tune didn’t change after you personally carried his dinner up to his room.

At wits end, you decided to try to dine with him and maybe reestablish the shaky alliance you formed with him on that first night. The guards opened his door for you, standing behind you in a defensive stance in case he decided to bolt again. Having smelled the food, Grim decided against running and instead sat expectantly at the small tea table in his room.

When you sat across from him, he barely paid you any attention, favoring the food in his bowl instead. It was beef stew, the biggest meal the chefs had prepared in weeks. You were hardly wanting for sustenance, but after many of the fields in the land had been destroyed and livestock confiscated during the war, everyone had to ration their meat and grain to get by. That included your family - after all, it would hardly make sense for you to overthrow a king for misallocating resources, only to do the exact same thing once you were in power.

“Finally! Some good grub!” Grim cheered with his mouth full. You huffed, taking a dainty sip of the broth from your spoon. As you watched Grim shove his face into the bowl, broth dripping from the fur on his chin, you wondered if this was how Riddle felt when he first met you and inwardly cringed.

“I’m glad you like it,” you tried to respond gracefully, though you were unsure if Grim could hear you over the sound of his own slurping. Sighing, you decided to let him eat before grilling him with questions.

Grim was halfway through with his bowl when he broke the silence - which didn’t take very much time at all. “By the way, what gives? You only break out the good stuff when you’ll be eating what I eat?”

“I’ve been eating the same thing as you have the entire time.”

“Well then, why is your food so disappointing?” Masking your emotions was an art you hadn’t quite mastered. You could feel your eyebrows furrowing deeply, holding Grim in a disapproving gaze with a matching scowl. “Come to think of it, even your castle’s falling apart! What kind of country is this?”

Slowly, you let your spoon rest in its bowl with a soft tink. This got Grim’s attention, and he watched as you interlocked your fingers and rested your chin on your hands. “Tell me this first, Grim. What do you know about the current affairs of the continent?”

He cocked his head to the side, inquisitive. “Not much. Politics are boooooring.”

“Well then, allow me to bring you up to speed. My family has only been in power for a few months. We overthrew the last king for being irresponsible in his politics. The war destroyed parts of this castle and many of our fields. Reconstruction takes time, as I’m sure you could surmise.”

At the word war, Grim’s ears drooped and he flinched away. You continued, keeping your voice even. “The barrier you jumped through is a thin line of magic that is keeping the Shadowlands away from us. Should that barrier fail, we would be unable to defend ourselves. We are rationing our supplies and focusing on building defenses for our people rather than opulence for our castle. That is why, up until now, you were not served ‘the good stuff’.”

Grim was silent for a moment, staring deep into his stew as if his image would change into some kind of prophetic vision. “I-I didn’t know…”

Unsure if you could respond civilly, you instead took a bite of the piece of bread beside your bowl. You could feel Grim watching as you ripped into it, not bothering to watch for falling crumbs or opening your mouth to a disgraceful degree. “You know, it would be helpful if you could remember something about the Shadowlands, rather than tear through the room decor with your claws.”

“But nothing’s coming back to me!” He protested. “Will you just throw me out once you realize that? Why bother keeping me around?”

“Because,” you answered coolly, “we were left on our own by the countries around us when we needed them. I don’t intend to let anybody else be left behind.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you turned back to your food. A second later, Grim did the same, eating much more appropriately than before. You didn’t share another word that night, but it still felt like progress.

After gaining a little insight, Grim was a little less combative. Your father was finally able to get a trusted mage to analyze Grim for any dangerous side effects of exposure to blot, and Grim let himself be poked and prodded at with minimal complaint.

“Amazing,” The mage murmured, running the tips of his fingers through the blue flames of Grim’s ears. They started to twitch in response, and Grim glared at the mage from the corner of his eye.

After a few tests of his magical aptitude - which was a little out of control, but would be able to be controlled with a magestone - the mage ended his examination. He couldn’t find any noticeable signs of aggression and left after he assured you that Grim shouldn’t cause any blot related problems. Having officially been cleared, you allowed Grim to accompany you throughout the castle, walking him through the slightly overgrown gardens and showing him which rooms were intact. Along the way, Grim scurried after you, cracking jokes and bumping into tables as his claws skidded across the hard floors. Other than a few narrow brushes with some expensive vases, he proved himself to be good company.

As the days passed, you gave Grim small tasks to help you. He retrieved Riddle’s letters and ran yours to the messenger when she stopped by. He was also proving to be a good listener, even if he preferred to talk on and on about how he could blow you out of the water with his magical prowess if only you allowed it. You didn’t want him to spiral out of control, though, and he actually listened to your instruction…on this matter, at least.

Without really meaning to, Grim became your shadow and accompanied you everywhere. He was granted a seat at the dining table and was even allowed to be present while you discussed more official matters with your family. Your siblings were fascinated by him, and while they got along with him well, Grim was known throughout the castle as yours. Eventually, he even began sleeping in your room with you (after you made him promise that he wouldn’t destroy the curtains.)

As you were preparing to peel back the covers and fall asleep one night, you huffed at Grim curling up on your pillow. You scooped him up, watching as his limbs hung down limply beneath him. He protested as you tossed him on the other pillow and fell on your spot before he could reclaim it. Muttering beneath his breath, Grim began kneading at the pillow and trying to get comfortable again.

“If you don’t want your spot taken, maybe you should get to bed earlier,” he murmured. It was a backwards approach to showing concern for your wellbeing, but you were beginning to get used to that.

“There’s so much to do…” Throwing an arm over your eyes, you groaned quietly into the moonlit room. “Besides, you should be grateful you have a home instead of stealing other people’s places.”

“Home…” As stealthily as you could, you peeked open one eye and watched Grim. In the powder blue light of the moon, his wide eyes seemed even more striking than usual. They practically glowed as brightly as the fire in his ears, yet neither were so bright that it hurt your own eyes to watch him. His three-pronged tail flickered in thought as he traced the floral pattern on your blankets absently. “I’ve never had one of those before, I think.”

A familiar hollow opened up in your chest, the one that pulled you towards Grim and made you want to help him. You were more similar than anybody cared to notice, after all. Life in a treacherous land made you both a little tough, a little reckless - and now that the storm had subsided for a while, you had to adjust to something entirely new. Hopefully, that something would be permanent. But everything could come crashing down in a moment, sending you both back to hell.

You doubted Grim would agree if you said anything - after all, he couldn’t remember much of anything before meeting you. Even if he did agree, it wasn’t like he’d tell you. Instead, you kept your fondness closely guarded and instead turned to face him, brushing a gentle finger down the bridge of his nose a few times.

“How did it feel?” You asked quietly. “Not having a home, I mean. If you can remember.”

That was where you differed. At least you had your memories of your home, and they were fond. At least you felt like you belonged in this country. At least you could be certain the blot hadn’t entirely changed you. Yet.

“Free,” Grim answered cheekily. But instead of smirking at you, he kept his chin on his front paws, pensive. “Lonely.”

“Mind keeping me company, then?”

Snapping out of his reverie, Grim finally gave you a signature smug grin. “Even your lame rations beat foraging for berries every day.”

Despite your fondness for him, you were not too keen on being Grim’s babysitter for the rest of your life, so you began to concoct a plan to put him to use. At your request for his audience, your father listened to your proposition and nodded thoughtfully as you explained Grim’s progress and the trust you were building with him.

"Ah, I don't know…" Your father mused when you were finished, stroking his chin. "A pet is a big responsibility."

"I don't think he would qualify as a pet," you corrected, though you were entirely unsure if what you said was true. After a moment of thinking, you said, "But running a kingdom is an even bigger responsibility and you're trusting me with that!"

"So I am," your father agreed, slowly grinning.

Days later, after a small magestone had been affixed inside a simple pendant, you searched the castle for Grim. You found him on a balcony overlooking the entrance to the castle, the peaks of nearby cottages visible above the stony walls. He didn’t turn towards you when you opened the door, but he did swish his tail in acknowledgement.

“I have a gift for you,” You said, and he gave you his full attention.

“Don’t leave me hanging!!” He insisted, craning his neck as if he could see behind your back. Stifling a laugh, you presented the magestone to him and watched as he jumped up in excitement. “What are you waiting for? Put it on me!”

“Stop moving then!” Threading a piece of silver ribbon through the top of the pendant, you gestured for Grim to turn around. He did, showing his back so you could tie the ribbon in a neat bow.

“We need to find a mirror. I bet I look the coolest!” Finally calming down, Grim narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute. What’s the catch?”

“No catch, though I do have a separate proposition,” You answered. Grim sat expectantly, and you wondered why he insisted he wasn’t a cat when he acted so much like one. “How would you like to be my royal advisor?”

Grim blinked at you for a few moments, processing your request. When he finally pieced things together, he leapt up and began prancing along the railing, recklessly enough that you worried he might tip over and fall. “Well, obviously you’d be desperate for The Great Grim’s advice! You’re smart to take advantage of such a rare opportunity for such amazing help. My first suggestion: make beef stew the national dish!”

You sighed, letting him go on his excited tangent. There was still work to be done - even more than usual, now that you had to train Grim - but at least now you didn’t feel like you were on your own.

#accidentally made the reader more traumatized than originally intended but i think it works lol #twisted wonderland #twst #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #royal au

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lendmyboyfriendahand · 10 months

Text

FInwe in the third age part ii

Over the next few days, the injured elf woke only briefly, saying confused phrases, or moaning in pain. Elrond considered whether it would promote peace in the valley if the only one present in the room who spoke no Quenya, so they could spread no rumors. But that would further distress the patient, and Elrond did not want him - whoever he was - to be upset, or to be tempted to go out and find answers. So there was always someone in the room who spoke Quenya, a nurse or a child of the Exile or a member of Elrond's family, with instructions to alert Elrond immediately if the patient was able to converse. (And to tell no one what they overheard, "for the sake of the stranger's privacy.")

It was nearly a week before Elrond was able to test his suspicions with anyway other than Glorfindel's sketches. Elladan had rushed to his study with the news that the patient was awake and impatient to know what was going on.

"Good afternoon, I'm glad to see you're feeling recovered. I am Elrond Peredhel, lord and chief healer of Rivendell."

"Yes, your son mentioned. I'm sorry, you seem familiar somehow but I can't think of any hall called Rivendell in Aman."

"I am not surprised you haven't, it's a long way from Tirion and we have not met before. I know you just survived a very stressful situation, but I have to ask you some questions to make sure you're oriented before I can explain."

"Even before you can tell me if anyone else survived the attack? The one in here earlier said it's been days, is there no word of my grandsons?" The patient began to push himself out of the bed as he said this.

Elrond pushed down on his shoulder, the weight too much for the injured elf to lift. (It's not treason to give your king medical care, and it's not like I ever pledged him my service. Elrond reminded himself. It feels like blasphemy, but when has that stopped me?) "Do NOT try to stand or sit! Your belly was torn open, and any further movement could tear it again. And as for your question, I could answer it better if I knew who you were."

"I'm Finwe! King of the Noldor and lord of Tirion - though currently Nolofinwe is ruling it. How do you not know that? Even the few Noldor I haven't spoken with should have seen me at festivals."

Elrond ignored the question. "It's good that you recall that. You were the only member of your family injured in the attack. Now, can you talk me through what you remember happening?"

Finwe sighed in relief. "That's good. I remember there was darkness. But deeper than I'd seen anywhere in Valinor, even in caves. Deeper even than a cloudy night in the forest beside Cuivienen. It was terrifying, and strange, and impossible. I told Maitimo to find his brothers and run, but something was coming. I stayed to fight it off, or at least buy time."

"That was very brave."

"What else could I have done? The attacker - surely you must know, your son didn't seem surprised when I told him to warn everyone - it was Melkor. The Dark Hunter has returned to his evil ways. He kept asking where Feanor was, and the Silmarils. I would not help him, but I have not fought since I hunted my meals underneath the stars. Melkor is a Vala, with all their might, and he overpowered me. The last thing I recall is seeing him walk away into the house. And then waking up here, among strangers."

Elrond nodded. "Thank you. Now, what I'm about to say will likely seem very shocking, but I must recommend as a healer that you do not make abrupt movements. Your body is still weak, far more so than your soul is accustomed to."

"What news could be that shocking, after being attacked in my home?"

"You are not in Valinor anymore, but instead are in Middle Earth. You can see for yourself out the window, that the stars are far clearer than they would be under the Trees."

"How did I get here? It must have taken months - did Melkor have me captive?"

"I have no more idea how you got here than you do; my people found you dying and half drowned on the banks of the river. You have been unconscious for nearly a week, and in that time we have seen no trace of anything that brought you here, nor any tracks leading from the site."

"But - if it's been a week, how has news reached you from Valinor? Even if Feanaro followed his plan to return to these lands, it would take months to sail."

"That is the second piece of shocking news, and the hopefully the last one of such magnitude. It has been over seven hundred years since Morgoth attacked Formenos, by the count in Valinor under the Trees. You were believed to be dead."

"That's impossible."

"And yet, it happened."

"Am I supposed to just take you at your word on this?"

"I do not give my word lightly, but I shall if you request it and will refrain from straining yourself trying to investigate shadows that aren't there."

"Do so, if you are not a servant of Melkor."

"I swear by Varda and by Ulmo that I have not lied to you, and that I wish for you to recover from your injuries. There is much I have not told you yet, as the tale of three Ages is long indeed, but I will tell you in time."

Finwe still lay there glaring at Elrond, but he made no move to get out his bed. "And how much time will it take before you tell me of my family?"

"There is little I can say for certain about how they are, as we do not have frequent news from Valinor. Artanis dwells on these shores, and rules Lothlorien with her husband. I married their daughter Celebrian, and so my sons and I are your family as well, but no one else is in Middle Earth."

"I am surprised Feanor did not come here, even after so long as you say it has been."

"He did, to avenge your death as much as to find a land where he could be free, but Melkor killed him as well."

"How convenient that all the people I would recognize are far away."

"No, it's not, as if you worry less you will heal faster. I suppose there is one. Do you know Glorfindel of - of the Golden Flower?" of Gondolin would mean nothing to Finwe.

"I think Turgon has a friend named that, have they started coming up with fancy titles when out on the town?"

"You could say that. He is the captain of Rivendell's guard, but could be spared from his duties long enough to speak with you."

"Fine, send him in."

#finwe in the third age #silm #my fic #silmarillion #elrond #finwe #Elrond sent a messenger bird to Galadriel as soon as he confirmed that the sketch matched #''hey your dead grandpa just showed up looking like he lost a fight with morgoth - any tips?''

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fandoms-in-law · 8 months

Text

Stories Chapter 5

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

Summary: In which Steve takes a few friends paint shopping and makes an awkward comment to try ensuring 2 know he's a safe space

authors note is added at the end

/\/\

"So let me get this right," Robin started, clearly ready to rant as Steve led her, Eddie and Will into the home decoration store. "You scoff and let both me and Eddie go through subtly bringing redecorating up to you, act like it all has to be theoretical and are now, not a week later, taking not just us but Will off to get paints and see how much redoing your bathroom might cost? Why Will? And when did you tell him anything about this when we said no kids involved?"

Steve shrugged at her. "I need him to help with a couple rooms. He's just getting the tiny pots of paint and all I've decided on is the bathroom and colours I'd like the rooms to be. Also you two decided to do it that way because you knew I'm just as likely to try making my house fit your tastes as I am to let the kids take over if they try to."

"It's my turn to be Steve's favourite anyway. Dustin and Max keep refusing to let anyone else have the chance." Will agreed.

Eddie grinned,nodding at the statement before nudging Steve. "Come on then. Tell us why Will is oh so essential to your home redesign? What can't the three of us achieve?"

"A decent looking mural. I've asked him to do two and his sketches after I tried describing my idea when I called the Byers last night look awesome already." He explained easily.

That gets him a frown and Eddie reaching for his bag, forgetting it was left in Steve's car. "I'll show you that I could do that later." He states instead.

The other three all pause at that before Steve smiles widely. "Better idea. I'll commission you to do a painting I can get framed to replace the one in the dining room. I know you've been covering my parents portrait up every time you're around. Work with Will if you want ideas of what will work since one of the murals is opposite it."

Robin smiled at him now, her teasing annoyance over the redecorating plans going differently than she expected forgotten in curiosity over what he'd chosen. "Come on, give us the list of colours we're looking for. I know you have one if you did this planning without us." she nudged his shoulder. "And I want to see what you decided."

"Only so I can have some peace in here: Have some swatches to find. Eddie gets some too and we'll split up to see who finds their colours first. Meet at Will in the tester pots section." He offered them over, not bothering to explain the stars indicating the colours he wanted. It seemed clear enough that neither of his friends would try getting all the colours on a swatch.

...

Steve was last to meet up with them and by the time he did he was muttering under his breath, more frustrated than he would be by an out of the blue demand for a lift from Henderson that could have been mentioned far earlier.

"Were those colours that difficult to find?" Robin began, ready to tease but hesitating so she could check on him.

"The bathroom fitters don't give straight answers and didn't much like me saying I could go to a gay bar and get clearer replies than their hemming." He grumbled. "In good news, I should be able to afford to get the bathroom I want done. In annoying news, I'm going to have to find anywhere but here to do it since they seem to be homophobes as well as missing braincells."

Robin nodded slowly, ignoring Will and Eddie staring as if utterly confused by the sentence Steve just shared. "So you can have your corner tub deep into the floor of your bathroom?"

"That I can. Also either of you know if there actually is a gay bar around? So I can see if anyone there has recommendations for plumbers or bathroom refitting?" Steve continued glancing from Robin to Eddie.

At both of them shaking their heads in disbelief and Robin elbowing him again he dropped the subject with another grin. He'd checked before speaking at all that the area was empty of people other than their group and kept speaking quietly the entire time, but had deliberately mentioned it, trying to confirm he was safe to both Eddie and Will. It had been something he'd thought about recently when Robin mentioned she hadn't come out to anyone other than him and didn't want to just over a crush; that in a place like Hawkins, even with their trauma bonded family, his friends still couldn't be sure everyone was safe and Steve knew that even if he couldn't make everyone prove themselves accepting, he could at least make himself a safe place for others.

Eddie grinned back at him. "Can't say I do, not any that's nearby at least,but we could get recommendations from around the trailer park. I know who's cool already and even if you get overcharged for rich area privilege I bet it'd be cheaper than somewhere like here, looking for the wealthy home renovators, quoted." He offered instead.

"Mum and Hopper probably have some recommendations too." Will quietly spoke up, holding his sketchbook up for Steve to see before pointing out various tester pots in the colours he wanted. "How many of these can I have for the mural?"

...

"Do homes really take this much paint? It looks like there's no way you could ever use all of this." Eddie groaned, looking over the checkout with all the paints they'd collected over it.

Steve shrugged, "Not a clue, but I did check guides on how much a can will cover for the amounts I asked you to get of each colour and as you're all fond of reminding me, my house is big."

"I'm drawing pictures on your walls and then filling the gaps in if you seriously think I can stand just painting a wall in one colour." Eddie warned, grinning to show it was mostly teasing.

He got a laugh in reply. "That's why we've got paint rollers to make it quicker to do, but sure, go wild with it and see if the things you draw can still be spotted after everything is the same colour."

"Hey Dingus, stop chatting and help with putting this all back in the trolley. I swear your brat got a mini pot of every colour in existence." Robin grabbed their attention from where his paints were now being scanned.

"Will isn't a brat. He's an occasionally brutal angel compared to the rest of them, except maybe El." Steve corrected while squeezing past the trolley to help as requested.

...

"So this is actually being made into a home after all these years?" Hopper asked, stood outside of Steve's house only there to drop Will off but smiling and clearly ready to wait and chat if he wasn't about to volunteer to help with the painting.

Steve nodded, "Doesn't seem real, but apparently believing it's my biggest challenge yet."

Most of their group would argue, point to Russians or anything the Upside down had thrown at them to contradict him, but Hop just sighed. "Guess so. Making big changes deliberately instead of letting them happen around you is always tough."

"I did want to ask you something though." Steve hesitated now, knowing Hopper was the best person to ask the thought that had been in his head since he spoke to Jonathan about owning his home, but unsure if it would change anything.

He got a nod encouraging him to continue after a moments silence though. "Is there a way to contact Doctor Owens? The fact I have this place and nobody else seemed to get quite this much doesn't sit right so I want to challenge the unfairness with him."

"I've got a number for him but most of the time he just shows up after everything has gone to shit and been fought back." Hopper admits, moving towards the house. "But for now, let's get at least part of your house properly painted. I bet none of your friends have ever painted a wall in your lives."

Steve grinned at him, "No, but it doesn't seem too hard. We are just aiming for a flat colour, other than Will."

"You'd think so, but I'll show you the knack to it." Hopper grinned, rolling his shoulders and following the noise of voices through to Steve's living room.

...

Having new colours on the walls unnerved Steve. He'd be doing something and then pause wondering why the light was different for a moment before remembering. It felt kind of ridiculous to realise but just repainting the walls changed how the house felt completely.

"What's going on?" Dustin stared at the hallway through to the living room as if something would attack him.

This was the first clue and only possibility that the kids beyond Will would realise Steve owned the house early and he'd mentally been preparing himself to tell the most useful lie in avoiding demands to interfere.

"My parents barged in last week, said this friend of theirs was saying how unfashionable their decor was of the flat they keep in the city so apparently every property including this house needs redecorating urgently." Steve groused. "I'm just hoping it stops with repainting."

"Does that include your room? Cause anything has to be better than that wallpaper." Dustin immediately asks. "Actually, can I see how they've done your room? I need to judge it."

"They haven't done anything to it yet but they will and hell no. You lost any chance to look around when you decided to snoop and invade my privacy when I wasn't even here. You are restricted to the living room alone." Steve countered, unsurprised when he felt someone leaning over his shoulder a moment later. Honestly part of him wanted to show off the changes, and forget about Dustin rooting through his notebooks but Will had started with the mural in his room. If the ruse that this was dictated by his parents was going to continue then none of the other kids could see that.

Eddie had been in the kitchen with Robin catching up and joking about their dream homes so both had probably heard that Dustin had arrived for Hellfire now.

"Yes Dusty-buns, a few weeks does not erase the memory of that. Why are you here an hour early anyway?" Eddie cooed, reaching over Steve's shoulder to remain draped on him while messing up Dustin's hair.

"Will keeps mentioning coming round to help Steve with something and I'm his little brother. I should be the one doing all this helping." He glared at them, ready to argue just as much as actually ask what Steve needs help for that he wouldn't be approached about first.

Steve grinned at that too, shrugging as he headed through to where Hellfire would soon be playing. "Don't think you can, Henderson. The Byers are the experts in art and photography. You're my audio and tech expert and honestly, the sound system I have is already good and the radio works fine."

"So what? You're actually getting a say in what's done?" Dustin scoffed. "That means you need my help even more. Let me see your room a so I can-"

"Shut up. So you can shut up cause whatever say Steve does or doesn't get in how anything is decorated does not need dictating by you, shithead." Eddie interrupted, pushing off Steve to shove Dustin through to the living room.

...

authors note: No I don't know or remember what I thought Steve spoke with the bathroom dept about, just that the comments online about lesbians being good at home repairs was in my head. The idea that that's how Steve tries to show Eddie and Will he's either an ally or part of the lgbtq+ is now just a scene I love because of its awkwardness

Chapter 6

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #will byers #jim hopper #dustin henderson #redecorating

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voidcat · 2 years

Text

– a case of bad luck

8. walking after dark

m.list ; prev ; next ; wc: 4.1k

pairing: dazai osamu/gn!reader

song: kill the dj by green day

warning same as last chapter, desensitizing and losing a touch from reality one by one, murder (without explicit details), gun, dazai as a warning on his own (read: creepy-ish behavior continued)

a/n: PHEW! finally got this on out WE ARE BACK FOLKS. anyways the song at the beginning referenced is "nobody" by mitski. as always, lyrics are bold and italic. i hope the pacing of the song matches the scene ehe

You wake up with a new layer of emptiness present to your mind.

Turning back to glance at the other side of the bed, it is disheveled as you usually make it somehow. Jeff sits by his spot as always, still in the cramped little pot, what is he trying to say?

Something eats away at you with a feeling akin to worry. In your mind you can feel a concentrated energy form in your shape and image, its grip tight on your shoulders, shaking you violently. Open your eyes, Open! Open! Open!-

You will it away as if it’s flunked away by a strong gush of wind.

Now that feels a lot better.

Gaze locked on the window only to be met with darkness, you pull a leg under yourself and contemplate for a while.

Going back to sleep hasn’t been the most fruitful option in quite some time and there is too much time at your hands to kill until it’s time to leave.

Getting up from the bed and looking for a fresh set of clothes, you make your way to the bathroom. A bath hot enough to boil you alive may not fix a damned thing but it may just be what you need.

What was that thing they said about lonely people and long showers again?

An empty and cold bed, a cactus once dead and an absent cat– The only things to wait for your arrival nowadays.

Opening the door after what feels like a nice escape for eons, you are met with big wide eyes of your cat, staring at you expectantly. Before you can get a word out, she lets out a loud, demanding meow.

Squeezing your eyes shut at the sudden rise of voice, you walk to your room to start your day.

You have thirty minutes.

The day passes in a bore.

Classes, fake pleasantries, more classes, wait- have you drunk any water?, classes and classes that seem to drag forever. You shouldn’t complain, really, the sun entering the classroom and the exhaustion on top makes it all the easy to daydream of a reality you won’t get to have.

A gentler reality. One where you feel loved, feel wanted- and not for all the wrong reasons, a reality of simply existing, being able to feel anything more than negativity, a reality without that endless pit in your chest, a reality without him in it.

When you get out, you don’t see him anywhere.

The way back home feels lighter for the first time in ages.

The air is somewhat clearer, not burning your nostrils, you find yourself stepping foot into a house that is empty.

Right, they said they’d not be back until night.

Normal people would find that lack of human presence odd, worrying, even.

You realize you don’t even have it in yourself to be disappointed at your lack of reactions.

A day without Dazai and a house all to yourself? This must be your lucky day.

First thing you find yourself doing after settling down is to play music, and sing along without a single care in your body.

Once you pause, eyes locked on the black clothing cast away on the back of your armchair. The inanimate mask stares back at you, scrunching up, you snap your head away, leaving the piece of fabric to stare at your back instead.

One album after another soon turns into mixed songs. And before you know it, a song has been put on repeat.

You can't recall yourself enjoying it to the extent of having it on repeat when you first heard of it.

It’s an interesting song for its simplicity. Once the verse begins, the rest goes with a single word said.

Each time in a different tone, in a different way, the same simple word seems to tell a different thing with each time it has been spoken into the air.

The instruments begin to rise, rise to a peak and the singing takes in, over and over and over.

Time passes before you know it. The sky darkens, the world starts to make way through the door, back into the safe confinements of their house. One hour ends, another begins; the song ends, it starts to repeat.

Long before you know it, your throat dries up, begins to ache– so does your body, your muscles. Vision darkening, brain cloudy, you want a rest, you want a good century’s sleep. To take a break, one too long, one that’s endless, one that will go on forever like a dance in the red shoes, doomed to never end.

And by the time the door creaks open, you’re already on the bed, slumbering away. One attempt of waking you up and a soft nudge to your shoulder, your mother walks away at the lack of reactions.

Should’ve wished for something else, you wonder how often you’ll be thinking that in the future.

An empty stomach yet no hunger, as if while you slept, time had no effect whatsoever.

By the time dazai comes, you are not surprised at all.

No bone in your body to care, nor react, you lie there, as does he, or was this the next day?

Mind is cloudy, time, hazy, ‘what’s the point?’ a piece of you starts to chime.

Days pass in that same routine, of when he dragged you into things you could never imagine yourself to be involved in. wake up, eat, go places, eat again, sleep, repeat, and again and again– like a tasteless song you cannot stop, a tune stuck in your mind that you cannot get out.

It feels hollow, all of it, all of you. An empty shell, carved out but one question takes shape: was there ever something to carve out of you to begin with?

And the more you think, you suspect the answer is ‘no’. What are emotions anyway? Just a bunch of chemicals, surely you possess them, but clearly not the right amount.

An empty space inside where the weeds take root, was it? You’re sure even the weeds inside you have withered away and died already.

A vacant mind, a nonexistent heart, you do not care, not even when the night is hot and you take several layers off.

You do not care when you finally fall asleep or the arm under your head has gone numb. You haven't cared about Dazai in a long time, not actually.

And you certainly wouldn’t care now, were you to be awake when he got in again. The bastard’s probably lonely, you’d think, or desperate to carry out some weird fantasy where he isn’t alone.

And it is true that you don’t, until you do, until you suddenly feel a cold hand over your arm, by your bicep to be exact.

The coldness would come as a rather pleasant feeling on this warm night, were it not beyond intrusive, crossing several unnamed lines.

Was it not for being caught off guard, you’re positive alarm bells would be going off in your head, loud and bright red.

Yet they don’t, it is still blank. Weirded out, yes but that’s about it. Less of a feeling and more of a ‘this is the proper chain of thoughts someone normal would have in a situation such as this.’ your brain conjuring.

A part of you tries to rationalize this, and perhaps it succeeds.

because, despite not having known Dazai Osamu like one would know a person, thus far, he was never this touchy, at least, not when you’re supposedly unconscious. It is only his arm you feel on yourself, not his body or breath. Perhaps he has enough of a respect and regard for you to not make you any more uncomfortable than you already are– one can only hope, even just the idea makes you want to sigh and roll your eyes.

And his arm does feel rather heavy on your body, similar to when someone faints or falls asleep.

What was it called again?– let’s say ‘rigor mortis but not dead’ for now.

Did he sling his arm before falling asleep or was it his body acting on its own? The possibilities of the latter seem rather worse in your eyes somehow– what would that mean about you and him?

It feels odd yet you’re tired, too tired to do anything about this.

If to feel and sleep like someone who is not alone, someone who is normal is what he wants, maybe you’ll allow him for once.

Do not fret for once, pretend this isn’t real, let the night burn away in your mind, perish, push it away like a kid does to crumbs on its clothes.

With the warmth of the night, the flickering lights entering through the window occasionally and the cool feeling his hand provides, you soon find your eyelids heaving.

In the morning, he is nowhere to be seen, as if he never came in the first place; just a figment of your deteriorating mental state, now wouldn’t that be quite ironic?

From how you’ve turned already you cannot tell apart any sign of him in the bed, any part of the sheets out of place.

Yet you do wonder if he woke up in the position.

Picturing a Dazai, eyes lazily fluttering open, only to jump back in place and possibly fall off the bed when the position the two of you were in registers in his mind.

Moving to the side of the bed with your knees, you bend over to glance at the floor.

No signs or imprint of a butt on the floor whatsoever.

Then again, he always left the place the same as before he came, no matter how many items he picked up and pondered over the past nights.

A quick glance at your phone for the day and you make your way to the desk, shoving anything you may need for the day to your bag, just as you turn in spot, the wretched mask looks at you, earning a glare.

Without spending another second in your room, you grab and shove it to the depths of your bag and leave.

In hindsight, it feels stupid.

No, it is stupid, a part of you argues.

Well, at least you do not have to worry about catching some sort of disease, washed up, dolled up and all.

The mask sits crumpled up at the back of the bag, flat against a notebook or two, somewhat customized.

You can only hope like the last few times, Dazai won’t stick around for you to do… whatever it is he asks you to do. If he decides to though, maybe it’s time you look for a song that’ll help you crawl under the earth, maybe open up the soil underneath and bury yourself alive there.

On another hand, it feels somewhat freeing to have made peace with the fact that you do not care.

It surely makes everything much more convenient, easier to navigate, easier to carry through with the tasks.

Why should you care after all? About men who are in deep with crimes and whatnot. Why should you care if it is you who punishes them for all the misdeeds they have done?

If anything, you have a family to care about, they are not your responsibility.

The possibility of some being involved in this …line of job stops crossing your mind the moment you remember how they gaze at you, eyes glinting for all the wrong reasons, licking their lips, saying all the vile and vulgar things they could with the few neurons they possess.

If anything, you are doing everyone a favor, maybe cleaning the city, even–

Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, plus, it’s not like you ever cared about this noisy city to begin with.

The evenings go without a hitch, the nights go without an event– then again, you have lost your old sense of normalcy for a while now.

It’s almost funny how quickly he has become a part of your routine.

Another particular night that feels too hot for the season, the weight dropped on the bed, a breath in, a breath out, a moment several of breaths later the arm makes a return.

It still feels odd, unreal in a sense. Yet a part of you cannot help but wonder what it must be to grow him this exhausted, enough to let a part of his guard down somehow.

Were you to move in a typical awake person way though, you’re positive he would be up and ready as well, eyes like a hawk’s, examining, observing, tearing each piece apart and putting them back together afterwards.

Dazai makes no comment on your little arts and crafts project, settles for a smile you’re sure to be condescending. At this point you’d have preferred the snarky comments, at least that way you could’ve said something back, let out a tiny bit of steam that way.

The other looks you receive are not any better, but at least there is a hint of uneasiness, they must find it funny, a bandaged brat and a masked weirdo.

Those with half a mind should know better to fear Dazai, having heard rumors perhaps, then again, where is the element of surprise in that? That’s where you must come in then.

Mocking faces and words that fail to sting are way better than those who only see meat.

Whichever the case, it doesn’t make that much of a difference. Either way, you don’t find it in you to care.

And even if you did, you doubt you could care. Time has long passed for that.

You start to feel the benefits, and the aftereffects of the mask, a little later.

Sure, at basis, the point is to have a sense of secrecy, privacy, in case of cameras, witnesses or survivors. Yet on the other hand, it provides it a lot easier to sign somehow–

A brand new face.

You get to be someone else, even if just for few minutes or hours, even if it’s a face you didn’t pick yourself, not exactly.

Chosen against your will but were you not the one to design it, finalize the looks in front of the mirror?

It looks odd, wobbly, no straight lines, two long pieces seem to stem from the head, resembling a pair of horns; if it’s a demon, it is one of a kind. If it’s a myth, its story has only just begun.

Sing to your heart's content, who is to say this is not some weird musical movie, or an ancient tragedy, and the grounds, dark alleys your amphitheater.

How effortless it is to blend in with the shadows, with darkness. Clad in black attire from head to toe, only a glint of red on the eerie mask that they cannot seem to make something of.

And that’s all you need, really.

To leave them confused, to remain a puzzle, something weird, so weird, beyond understanding; leave no opening to be seen, to be understood– not that they’ll be granted the opportunity any way.

Out of it before their fear can register, is it temporary or a permanent state, that is not up to you. Even the birds end up with snapped wings and tied up beaks.

Just few steps into the shade to fit, to disappear, the shadows are dark but they’re no match for his eye.

It is almost funny how certain things bring back memories of the past within them. Random, unimportant things.

Take this moment into consideration for a second. The alleys lead to a boulevard, all that talk of the dark and the shadow, of being alone and empty leads to a song, leads to several years ago, leads to a depressed second of thinking how even back then you felt miserable– but that’s not the topic at hand right now, so you push it away.

Be someone else for a day, for a night, even for a moment.

Think of the past, that same empty feeling that always seems to follow, tail behind. Concentrate on all your suffering, misery, all the harbored, bottled up things so pathetic, so pitiful.

Death of a friend, death of a face you’ll never see again. The end of a person you’ll never be again, one you'll only meet the shell of in the mirror if you spare it a glance.

The absence of something fundamental, something primal, the lack of a heart, lack of something human.

Think of that crashing sound, the sudden noise of the brakes hitting, the scene you couldn’t bear to face, the very reality you are stuck in, the harsh truth that you’ll never see him again, never feel him, hear him, watch him run and play.

The very reality that time will forever pass and never wait for anyone else, how even now feels unreal, how then felt unreal. Like a movie passing, one you wish were just fiction.

Be someone else for a day, for a moment.

Be someone else without the hole inside, be someone without the weight of burden, the feeling of guilt, this very thing bubbling inside you that you have no name for, that you want to rip out of your chest, without caring if you’ll rip apart a part of your flesh in the process.

The past is in the past, now is happening but you cannot care, it feels too late as it is being written out.

The past is gone, so is the present, the future is something you find unbelievable.

It all plays out like a movie, and your eyes belong to the audience.

The glint of the knife in the cold dead night, how your grip on it only tightens and Dazai meets you only with a look you cannot name, then a chuckle. A motion as if shaking his head in bemusement, though it is hard to tell when both your faces lie on the pillows.

The dim lights above and you feel the hands on your back pushing you forward, into the den of the wolves, not mighty but pathetic, leeching on those they seem weak and defenseless. Look around puzzled only to see him disappear but what can you do, what does he want, what do you want?

Nothing is born from the action, the knife isn’t painted red.

Life doesn't flash before your eyes, you only recall another face from several years ago and how she’d sing along a song with you, always appearing to be in her world, without worrying or caring, but happy, energetic, living.

“It must hurt your hand to grip it so tightly every night until morning.” he only prefers to say but a voice inside you is reeling in the small victory, that glimpse of a surprise.

Why that song, those memories out of everything else? The man who gets a hold of you pushes you to the side, already contemplating what to do with you. Your ears hear the word ransom as your brain desperately goes from one sentence to another to form, to say in hopes of being let free. The other looks you receive are enough to say that will not be happening.

Was he not expecting or did he only assume you didn’t have the guts to cultivate such a thing?

Either way it’s a win.

Not important enough for ransom, but loved enough by family that they’ll be on the search, either sentence is a loss, tossing up against a wall you cannot jump over, or climb. There are no ladders in the distance either yet the possibilities of what else your fate may meet only make your blood run colder.

You should’ve done more with your life, a voice decides to sneer. Drawn more, talked with people more, read more, written more.

Even in such a dire situation, you find yourself letting out a pained chuckle at the realization. You had such plans, dreams and what not, didn’t you? The hole was there, the notion find future for you impossible was there but there were still plans of small hobbies, activities, ideas– for yourself and yourself only.

A way of escape, even just for a moment–

You don’t need bright red hair and feline-like eyes. You don't need combat skills, or knowledge of technology. You don’t have to be someone from outer space or a mutant. Just for a moment, pretend, close your eyes and open them as the audience again, the same spot you had taken years ago when daydreaming of certain stories.

When you open your eyes again, there’s a confident smile. The sound of the guitar inside your head suddenly does not sound so off-place.

The men spread all around the area, eyeing the place for any other intruders, one barking orders around, nothing but bullshit leaving his mouth– so tedious, even the rest seem done with him already. Well, it won’t hurt to help them finally put an end to all, will it?

The man’s grip on you has long gone, after pushing you to the side of a crate. He does seem confused though, (Walking after dark) when his ears fail to understand the foreign language.

One of them yells what is it about a park but it’s too late now, their fates were sealed the moment you and Dazai stepped in– no, the moment Dazai picked this place, and them, for a lovely, little, educational evening.

Few steps is all you need to sneak up to the man’s side, ‘your thoughts are so unholy in the holiest of holes’, you say with your index shaking. A smile, part mocking, part fake-disappointed is all he is met with when he whips his head. Your voice right behind his ear gets him jumping in his place.

Singing the rest until the chorus with a tone not too loud, more than a mere whisper does the trick.

“Someone kill the dj!” your voice loud and clear by his ear, your index shooting up and toward a direction you head whispers from earlier. It works like magic, it works all too well, a trained gun raised high in a whim and the shot taken at the first opening he sees.

‘Someone kill the dj!’, you point at elsewhere, ‘shoot the fucking dj’, the bullet follows cue.

Soon it rises, the melody, the hype, the heat of the moment. You're someone else now, this is normal for the identity you wear.

For each phrase of the chorus, a bullet is sent, your head tilted, body moving more and more with an energy you cannot contain. Eyes widened, the smile growing wider. Once the nearby area is clearer, you move along, tiptoe, skipping steps almost in a dance without a rhythm, without an origin.

Walking after dark, the remaining men are in a frenzy, none the wiser of your presence or what you are doing.

With each repeat of the verse, the words leave your mouth easily, with an increasing spite. A whisper and a finger pointing is all you need, as well as an ear to listen.

Numbers decrease, the high of what you feel increases, the build up of the song, the moment, the rush of seeing men crumble before you, listen to your words and do as you tell them to.

No more listening to mindless orders with their barley crafted justifications, selfish excuses, illogical reasonings.

And with few left standing, all turned against one another, you pay no mind, no longer dancing between the carefully stacked and placed crates, the spotlight awaits the main character.

A sudden noise of something dropped to the ground, you see one of them look up at you in fear, his eyes widening in sync with your expression. “Someone's gonna get you, boy”

Everyone deserves a heads-up once in a while.

“Shoot that fucker down!” you turn and walk away, hand still pointing at the back.

Better them than you, a voice in your head reasons. You don’t need a vivid imagination to know what would’ve happened to you.

And as the rest of the words spill like a mantra, your brain tucking them behind a veil, your shoulders move accordingly to the melody, arms dropping and your body swaying on its own, looking almost giddy in a way.

Your body does not belong to you, not at this moment.

And with only one man left, it’s few quick skips that lead you to him, standing behind, hand placed on his dominant one. Leaning over his shoulder, lips awfully close to his stinking form and bringing the gun to his head, all that needs to be done is to smile and finish the song.

note: as an explanation bc i put it there a little vague but the whole talk of taking a new face (as well as bright red hair, mutant, alien etc) is implied reader used to have original characters they'd think/write about– something they abandoned at one point and only recall then (when they need it).

a/n 2: the red haired one as well as mutant and alien are few characteristics/looks of some of my old OCs though, if anyone is ever curious i'd love to talk about them!

#a case of bad luck #dazai osamu #gender neutral reader #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu fanfiction #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bungou stray dogs fanfiction #bsd x reader #bsd x you #dazai x reader #dazai x you

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talyns-fanfics · 11 months

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Her and The Sea

Kingdom Hearts

Sora x OC

Just a fun little indulgence for MerMay. Also, I planned to have this out when the new The Little Mermaid movie drops.

I’m taking liberties with the lore of mermaids and sirens.

Mermaids and Sirens don’t exist. Even if they did, there’s no reason why they would live around the Destiny Islands. The water is too shallow that they’d couldn’t get anywhere close to the main island and the people living there. No one talked about them, so much that the idea of mythical sea creatures fade into obscurity. It was just that; Myths.

No one ever told Sora nor his peers about the myths of aquatic life. No use in telling these kids something that doesn’t exist. It wasn’t until his friend Riku started claiming that he saw something out on the horizon during sundown. He claims it was a couple of mermaids jumping out of the water and diving in like dolphins. Sora decides to take a walk near the shore of the main island one day, and that’s when he saw it.

Two mermaids jumping out of the water and diving back into the water just as Riku described. It was a beautiful sight. Riku just described it as cool, but Sora sees it as a once in a lifetime phenomenon. The most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

After the sunset, he decided it was time for him to return home. As he turn to leave, he sees Aqua and her daughter Xatlyn drying themselves off in towels before rushing back into town. He heads back home himself, but wondered why his best friend (other than Riku) was out at night with her mother. They didn’t even look like they were wearing swimsuits, which was even weirder.

The next day, Xatlyn wasn’t at school. This was weird to Sora, considering that it was the beginning of the school year and Xatlyn was out. After school, he heads to Xatlyn’s parents house, knocking on the door. Terra opens the door.

“Good afternoon, Sora.”

“Good afternoon, Terra. Xatlyn wasn’t at school today. Is there a reason?”

Terra’s smile drops, he changes the topic. “It’s best for you that you stop being friends with her. And, for your safety, stay away from the shore without backup.” He closes the door without giving Sora the time to react.

Sora ignores Terra’s pleas to stay away from the shore. He hears a melodious tune off towards the ocean. It was a beautiful tune, so beautiful he had to hear it clearer. Before he set one foot into the ocean, he was harshly brought back to the shore, getting snapped out of the trance.

“Sora, what were you thinking?” Riku asks him.

Sora blinks a second as his mind clears. Was he under someone’s spell? “What just happen?” He asks Riku.

“You almost walked into the water. I tried calling to you, but you couldn’t hear.”

Sore listens to Riku, but turns back to the ocean. “Riku, do you believe in Mermaids.”

“Mermaids don’t lure people to their death. What that was, could be a Siren.” Riku responds. Sora turns back to Riku as he continues. “Sirens, at least in the myths, lure the hearts of men into the sea with their voices. They can only be heard by their intended victims.”

“But, why would a Siren want to go after me?” Sora asks Riku, who shrugs.

“There are many reasons a Siren would choose a specific person.” Riku says. “Romance, food, killing. They never really explained it in the books I’ve read.”

Sora quickly changes the topic to poke fun at Riku. “You read now?” He smirks.

Riku scoffs. “Ok, Xatlyn read it and told me about it.” He says. “Someone read it, I know it, who cares what happens in the middle?!”

The two share a laugh before deciding to head back to the main islands, not taking notice to the pair of eyes peering at them over the ocean.

After about a week, Xatlyn returned to school, but avoided Sora and Riku. Riku didn’t think anything of it and just chalked it up to Xatlyn needing her space, but Sora wanted to know what was up with her.

After school, he notices her heading towards the shore. He rushes after her. He sees her wrapping a towel around herself and taking off her bottoms before taking her shirt off, a makeshift seaweed top wrapped around her torso. She starts walking towards the sea. Sora rushes after her.

He catches up to her before she gets too deep into the water. He grabs a hold of her wrist, making her turn around. She feels pain in her abdomen, clutching onto herself. She falls into the ocean, accidentally dragging Sora down with her. Sora let’s go of her and tries to keep air in his system. He looks over to Xatlyn, who was panicking, hands to her hair and body curled up into a ball.

“No!” She yells. “Not now! Not with him here!” Her hands then clutch on her stomach as her legs painfully transform into a pink tail. The towel that was wrapped around her lower half unfurled in the ocean.

Sora was shocked. Mermaids are real and he found one. Before he could react anymore, he started suffocated. He passes out in the sea.

He wakes up on the secluded island, where he and his friends usually play. He sits up, looking over to Xatlyn, still in her mermaid form, sitting in the very shallow water.

“I didn’t want you to find out.” Xatlyn tells Sora. “Even if I did, I didn’t want you to catch me mid-transformation.” She doesn’t notice that Sora had gotten up and walked up to her. He sits down next to her.

“Why not?” He asks.

“I’m ok with being a mermaid.” Xatlyn explains. “It’s just, when the tides get stronger, I turn into something darker. Something even more sinister.” She visibly shudders at the idea.

He connects the dots. “A Siren?” She nods, turning away from him. He then remembers what happened almost a week ago. He asks her about the time he almost drowned because of a Siren. “Xatlyn, would you know who it was?”

She slightly curled up on herself. “That… was me.” This confuses him. “Sirens mostly don’t have control over their actions, but you were on my mind for a while now and my Siren wanted you for herself. I’m lucky Riku pulled you away when he did.” Sora takes a moment as she continues. “I was alone in my misery, and to your heart I had to-” She stops, feeling ashamed of herself.

Sora gently takes one of her hands in his own. “I’m not sure if I’m still under your spell, but I actually do love you.”

She finally looks him in his eyes. They weren’t her Siren’s yellow color. They were his normal sea blue hue. She softly smiles at him, relaxing her arms and tail. The two stay silent for a moment before he reaches his unoccupied arm around her middle and she curls up against him.

“Xatlyn, how are we gonna get back?” Sora asks, accidentally ruining the moment. Xatlyn groans at the question.

A month since, Xatlyn had disappeared again, worrying Sora. The ocean was calm last night, she couldn’t have turned into a Siren. He knew he couldn’t ask Terra or Aqua what happened, they’d just tell him to stay away from Xatlyn. One day, while walking home from school, he catches a glimpse of Ventus. Ventus realizes that Sora was nearby and made a break for it.

Sora backs Ventus into corner. “Ok, man. Fess up. I know you know what’s going on with Xatlyn. Please tell me.”

Ventus breaks. “You got me. Xatlyn made a deal with a Sea Witch. She gave up her voice, but we don’t know why. Me and her parents are looking for a way to get her voice back without breaking the deal.”

Sora takes it all in before responding. “Let me help you guys.”

Ventus shakes his head. “If I’d let you, I’d never hear the end of it from Terra and Aqua.” He explains. “Trust me, Xatlyn is safe. She’ll be back sooner than you know it.” The two part ways, none of Sora’s worries were cleared.

About a week after his conversation with Ventus, Sora finds Xatlyn near the shore on an isolated rock, looking towards the sea. Sora makes his way towards her.

The water was shallow enough so Sora could just walk over to her. She turns away, but doesn’t make a move to leave him.

“Ventus told me everything.” Sora says, crossing his arms. “But, why would you go to a Sea Witch?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want her to hurt you.” Xatlyn explains. Sora finally understood what was happening. Xatlyn was protecting him from herself.

“But, you have your voice, now.” Sora points out. “The deal must have been finished, right?”

“No. My parents and Ventus took my place in the deal. Xehanort has them now, and I’m not sure how to continue on from here.”

Sora sits on the rock, next to Xatlyn. He was just as lost as her.

I’m ending this angsty because I don’t know how to end it. Maybe I’ll make a part 2.

#talyns fanfics #kingdom hearts #sora #sora kingdom hearts #sora x oc #my ocs #oc #my oc story #xatlyn #xatlyn dohau #merfolk #mermay #Spotify #the little mermaid

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softbobamilktae · 2 years

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The Strings of My Heart [23] - A Little Too Young

← Chapter 22 | Chapter 24 →

Pairing: Zoro x Jupiter

Genre: fluff, angst, f2l

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: uhhhhhhh none? This chapter is purely sappy romance so be warned

Summary: Zoro’s moved to sunny California for college to escape from the life of fame for a little while. But when he loses his violin case in the second week of school, he’s sure his college experience has just gone up in flames. What will he do when, despite all odds, his case is returned to him?

It didn’t take long for both Jupiter and her mother to get fed up with Maggie, and they sent her home not two days after she arrived in town. It was a good thing too, because they seemed to have some unexpected guests on the night of the twenty-ninth.

“Zoro, someone’s at the door for you!”

“Jupiter, I’m dealing with a disaster up here. I really can’t come down right now!” Zoro yelled from upstairs.

The lack of response had Zoro curiously wandering down the stairs a few minutes later once Comet was in clean clothes. Hyeon swung around the staircase and leaned against the wall when he reached the bottom.

“Hey there.”

Zoro grinned. “What are you doing here?”

“What? I’m not allowed to just visit my brother?”

“I mean…you can. But today is Appa’s birthday? Shouldn’t you be home with him?”

“Well, that would be kinda hard to do considering he’s here…” she pointed into the living room.

Zoro took the last few steps down the stairs and laughed as he saw his family seated on the couch. “Why are you guys here?”

“Well, we weren’t supposed to come until after New Year’s, but Hyeon insisted we come early,” Zelda smiled. “We were in California for Christmas.”

Zoro glanced at Jupiter. “Were you in on this?”

Jupiter raised her hands. “Guilty. I felt bad that you were missing Christmas with your family just for me, so when Hyeon asked if they could surprise you, of course I couldn’t say no.”

“We got to see baby Rosella too!” Noah piped up.

Zoro smiled and set Comet down. “All right, come here and give me hugs.”

◇◆◇◆◇

Zoro and Hyeon lounged around the fire pit in the backyard after dinner that night.

“Hey! You can actually see a few stars out here!” Hyeon grinned.

Zoro glanced up at the sky. “You can. I never noticed that.”

She laughed. “Really? You’ve spent months here and you never noticed that?”

He shrugged. “You can see the stars just as well everywhere else I’ve been.”

“I don’t know. I think they’re a bit clearer here than in Seoul.”

“If you say so.”

She turned to him. “So, how have you been? Do you think coming here was the right choice?”

He glanced up at her. “I do. It’s been hard at times, but it’s worth it.”

Hyeon nodded. “That’s good.” She glanced back towards the house. “You know, Mama keeps asking when you’re getting an apartment.”

Zoro grinned. “Of course she is. Tell her soon. I don’t plan on getting one until I’m back from Korea. It just seems like a waste of money to get an apartment here and then leave for a month.”

“Isn’t that what you did in California, though?” Hyeon laughed.

He sighed. “It is. I didn’t have anywhere to stay, though. And rent was cheaper there.”

“I’m teasing.”

“I know,” he replied with a smile. “How is everyone at home?”

Hyeon tucked her hands between her thighs as she considered what to tell him. “Well, Isa’s been packing up. She’s moving after the holidays.”

“What?” he asked, bewildered. “Why?” then it dawned on him. “It’s because of the guy, isn’t it?”

She laughed. “Yeah. She’s gonna help her aunt in town…I can’t remember what she does.”

“Well, I’m sure she’ll have fun. Last time I talked to her she was saying she really missed him. Mateo, was it?”

Hyeon nodded. “Oh, the dreamy Mateo,” she mocked, falling over dramatically against the couch. She righted herself and shook her head. “Isabella thinks she’s changed, but she’s just as dramatic as she’s always been.”

He grinned. “Anything going on with you and Jiwoo?”

“Nah. You would already know if there was. We’re both trying to survive our last year of high school, mostly.”

“How’s that going for you?”

“Awful. There’s so much work. I was so happy when Christmas break started.”

“I can imagine. University was easier than high school, honestly.”

“Really? Well, that’s a relief.”

“You planning on going?” he asked.

She nodded. “Business degree.”

“Gack.”

“Hey! What do you have against business degrees?”

He shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. That just sounds awful to me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t spend a year and a half studying an instrument, so I think it’s safe to say that we don’t have the same interests and strong suits.” She sighed and pulled her coat tighter around her. “So, got a job?”

“I thought I told you already. Teaching job with some violin students. Sounds fun, right?”

“That doesn’t sound like…you?” she laughed. “My anti-social brother is going to teach?”

“Eh, it’s the violin. I’m sure it won’t be as hard as talking to complete strangers.”

She patted his shoulder. “Well, I hope you enjoy it, then. Does it pay well?”

He nodded. “Very well. It’s scary how much people will pay for music lessons, honestly.”

She laughed. “I seem to remember Appa and Mama paying lots for your violin lessons.”

He sucked in a deep breath. “Well, we have an abundance of money.”

“That we do. And maybe those people do too. Also, this is New York. I think everything here is stupidly expensive.”

He nodded, eyes wide. “Yes, it is.”

◇◆◇◆◇

“Your family is amazing for helping watch the kids tonight,” Jupiter smiled as she glanced around the restaurant. “This place is so fancy.” She paused. “This is like the first real sit-down restaurant date we’ve had.”

Zoro grinned. “Oh my gosh, it is! We’ve been dating for almost a year now and we’ve never been on an actual date.”

“We just went from friends to a married couple I suppose,” she laughed.

He raised an eyebrow. “A married couple?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. You know. We’re doing very much adult stuff, like raising kids and running a company.”

“How does that make us like a married couple?”

“I dunno. It just feels like we’ve known each other forever. Like we’re an old married couple or something.”

“Well, I suppose that’s what it’s supposed to feel like when you find the one, right?”

“Yeah.” She paused. “You do feel that way about me too, right?”

“Of course! Why do you think I’m in New York, silly?” he reached out and poked her fingers. “I love you a lot. And someday, when we are an old married couple, I’ll love you even more.”

“Zoro,” she cooed, her face flushing. “Don’t get all sappy on me or I’ll start crying. We really need to stop talking about marriage, though. It makes me want to get married.”

“Well, how about we go get married right now?”

“Right now?” she giggled. “That’s a little fast, isn’t it?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. We’re living in the same house already. Sharing a room, even.”

“Temporarily,” she reminded him.

He groaned. “Don’t remind me! I’m gonna miss you when I get my own place.”

“You could stay….”

“I know. And I want to. I just think sharing a bed is going to be a bad idea one of these days.”

“You’re probably right,” she pouted. “Doesn’t mean I’m happy about it, though.”

“Ok. When do you think we should get married? For real.”

She hummed in thought. “Next spring, maybe? We need time to plan a wedding, first of all. And we’re not even engaged yet. I think things need to be a bit more settled at home first.”

“That sounds good. We should plan the wedding while we eat dinner.”

She laughed. “You think so?”

“Yeah. Where should we get married?”

She blew out a breath. “I don’t know. Any suggestions?”

He considered it. “I mean, it would be kind of fun to get married in my mom’s hometown. That’s a while from here, though.”

“Hey, don’t put down your idea so fast! Do you have family there?”

He nodded. “My great-grandparents and some of my mom’s cousins.”

“How old are your great-grandparents?”

“Mm. In their late nineties?”

“We probably should get married there then! We wouldn’t want them to have to travel, right?”

“Probably not.”

“Ok. Look, we already have a place chosen!”

“Well, not specifically. We’ll have to look at venues,” he laughed. “But that does narrow it down a bit.”

She smiled. “I can’t wait to marry you. Even if it’s in five years.”

“Five years?!” He asked in outrage. “We are not waiting five years!”

“I was exaggerating! Besides, twenty-five is still young.”

“Not when we’ve been dating for six years.”

She hesitated. “Ok, well. You’re right. We’re not waiting that long, anyways. I can’t. That would be torture.”

He let out a breathy sigh. “Good. Even a year seems like forever from now.”

“We’ve only known each other a year and a half. That’s probably why.” She sighed. “I’m sure there’s plenty of adult adults that would tell us we shouldn’t rush to get married, though.”

“Oh yeah. Definitely. My parents would probably say to wait two years after you meet to get married.”

“Is that how long they waited?”

He scrunched his nose up. “I think it was about two and a half years for them. It was a bit more complicated since they were both citizens in different countries, so it took them a while to even have citizenship in the same country so they could get married.”

“Money couldn’t speed that up?”

Zoro shrugged. “I don’t think they even tried. My parents both tend to act like they don’t have money.”

She smiled. “Well, that’s a good thing.”

“What do you think about rings?” Zoro asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“Rings?”

“Well, you know. We could get silver or gold rings. Maybe rose gold?”

“Ooo. Rose gold. I love that. It’s unique, too.”

He laughed. “You think? I’ve always thought rose gold was pretty.”

“Me too! I hadn’t considered it for wedding rings, though.”

“Me neither. I just. Well, I was looking up wedding rings the other day, and that was actually one of the options I found.”

“You were looking up wedding rings, were you? You’re very eager to get married, aren’t you?”

“Of course!”

Jupiter pulled out her phone and looked up rose gold wedding bands. She smiled at the results she found.

“Oh my gosh. I love this! We should totally do rose gold rings!”

“Yeah?” he asked she showed him the rings. “You like them?”

“Yes! That would be so cool. I’ve never heard of anyone having rose gold wedding bands!”

“We can be the first, then. Should we buy them now?”

“I mean…wouldn’t that be getting ahead of ourselves? Where would we even put them?” she giggled.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. We don’t have to buy them now. It was just a suggestion.”

“Maybe we should just wait until we’re engaged,” she suggested.

“That’s probably a good idea.”

Jupiter wiggled back and forth in her seat. “I don’t blame you for wanting them, though. The thought of marrying you is making me very excited!”

“Hey, this is sooner than we expected to get married though, right?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Were you expecting?”

He smiled shyly. “Well, when we were both in university, I was thinking we’d have to wait until we were both done. But now that neither of us are finishing university….”

“You were already thinking of marriage then?”

“Were you not?”

She smiled. “I was. I just didn’t realize you were too. I think something in me knew I was going to marry you the very day we met, Zoro.”

“Hey. Now you’re the one getting sappy.”

“It’s true! The first few months of school were torture for me!”

“Torture? Why?”

“I was in contact with an adorable boy, and I didn’t know what to do with myself!”

“I’m adorable?”

“Very much so.”

He covered his eyes with one of his hands as if what she’d just said was ridiculous and let out an embarrassed laugh. She leaned across the table and smacked his hand.

“Don’t laugh! It’s true!”

He peeked back up at her. “Sorry. It’s just…I think that’s something only my mom and grandma call me these days.”

“Well, they’re two very smart women. Shouldn’t I be the one who calls you that the most, though? I’m your girlfriend.”

He shrugged, pressing his lips together. She smiled.

“I’m sorry. Am I embarrassing you?”

He shook his head, his eyes lighting up. “No. I’m just not quite sure what to say.” His voice dropped to a mumble. “You make me shy, if I’m being honest.”

“Me? I make you shy?”

He nodded. “Who else?”

“Why do I make you shy?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re just really sweet to me.”

Jupiter tapped her fingers against the table. “Well, my view of romance is a bit skewed from what’s considered traditional, I suppose. I saw my mom take and take from my dad, so I’ve always thought that I should give and give.” She smiled. “And I think you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I like the way you make me feel. Even the shyness.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Usually, shyness is a sort of fear for me. It isn’t with you, though.”

She smiled. “I’m glad. I don’t want to make you afraid.”

He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “We should do this more often. I like being able to talk to you freely.”

“I’ll tell our babysitter she has a job.”

Chapter 24 →

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

Series M.list

A/N: suffer <3

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie

#softbobamilktae original stories

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shattersstar · 2 years

Note

So glad you answered my questions, I was hoping for a Old Wild West au with Jason Todd x Fem!Reader or Gender Neutral reader

💝💝

pairing: cowboy!jason todd x reader

a/n: so i wrote this baked as hell and i can’t tell if it makes sense anymore but i love it so here y’all go. yeehaw and all that

—

“hello darlin’.” his voice rang from behind you, making your horse huff in your face at the sight of her original owner.

you whipped your head around, and sure as day jason peter todd was standing in your barn.

“you better have a good reason to be showing up mr. todd.” you muttered, letting the reigns fall into the hay as you stepped aside. you could see his shoulders stiffen at his name, you were never that formal with him.

“I was waiting to hear back from you.” he explained with raised hands.

“for what reason?”

“I sold you my favourite horse, I want to know if it was worth it.” he grinned, approaching the grey mare he’d sold you two and a half weeks ago.

“this horse was not your favourite,” you scoffed, arms crossing as her large head nudged his chest. jason only looked sideways at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “why’d you sell her to me then? if she was so important to you?” you challenged.

“well, I’m sure you can figure that one out yourself. y’know me better than that sweetheart.”

you only frowned, “I don’t need to know anything about you because I know men, and their intentions.”

“do you not like my intentions?”

“no I don’t like you.” you glared at him this time, making a laugh fall from his lips.

“you’re always so sharp. so lovely.” he added, quieter, but he knew you heard. it set something in you off and irritation bubbled over.

“if you’re so insistent on seeing this horse, you can have it back for free.” you huffed, brushing past him and heading towards your house. he called your name, black boots kicking up dust behind him as he jogged up to you, fingers grazing your hand before you turned around, nearly colliding with him. your face burned warm as you stood barely an inch apart before he let out a chuckle and took a step back. you followed in suit, taking a step your own before crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t have time to get tangled up with a man like you jason. just leave me be.” you declared.

“a man like me? what exactly does that mean?” he copied your posture, brow raised.

“y’know what I mean, you don’t stick around anywhere too long—for what reason? don’t know don’t care, but I’m not to go on believing I could change you.” you huffed, making his gaze soften.

“I never said I was going anywhere.”

“you don’t have to jason, I…I know you okay? I do.” your eyes fell to the dying grass between the two of you, the morning wind still held that soft chill from the night and it made you wrap your arms around yourself. he still hadn’t spoken, eyes a bit sad and wide underneath the dark brim of his hat. the same hat you had flipped off his head upon your last visit, laughing with him despite it all. despite the gut feeling telling you he was no good, or maybe too good. it made you weary—he did—the world was fast changing and you were trying you’re best not to get lost in it all. he made everything clearer, but complicated. he felt like a crossroads you didn’t want to be stuck at.

“don’t you think I have a reason to stay?” he asked suddenly, pulling you from your thoughts with that honey warm voice.

“what?”

“I gave you my favourite horse, I can’t just leave now.” he laughed, watching your brows pull together.

“because of me or the horse?” you asked, incredulous.

he only laughed, shaking his head and walking by you, stopping to cup the sides of your jaw ever so gently to press a kiss onto the top of your head. you were frozen in place as he still chuckled, “I’ll stay until you figure out the answer to that darlin’.” and then he was gone like the wind, his words carried with it and you stood there. something new and warm in your chest that felt like sun breaking over the horizon. you loved him, you realized than and there, you loved jason and you were pretty sure he just said he loved you too.

oh.

#mean girlfriend (gender neutral) rights #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #cowboy!au #writing #don’t disturb the ghost of queue

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kohanayaki · 3 years

Text

.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 1

Old habits die hard— and so do feelings, apparently. Relive moments high and low from your life with the Marauders and co. as you tell your godson, Harry, about all the mischief you got up to back in your school days. Takes place mainly in the Marauders era but also has content congruent with the Order of the Phoenix timeline, with some cannon divergence, of course~

- Main pairings: Sirius Black x Reader, Severus Snape x Reader, James Potter x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, slight Regulus Black x Reader, and a bunch of friendships! Gender neutral pronouns :)

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

____________________________________________________________

Ch 1 .:Memories And First Meetings:.

12 Grimmauld Place was cold.

Not in the temperature sense of the word, especially in the heat of London summer, but something about it felt distant. Perhaps it was the cookie cutter exterior, dreadfully drab, although you knew its true nature was anything but. Despite its grandeur, the interior was as ornate as it was dull and unsaturated, like a black and white photograph in all its monochromatic glory. Maybe it was the fact that you knew what had happened here in the past, or the fact that you knew who was waiting here for you in the present.

You felt the strange sensation of stepping through the thick blanket of protection charms surrounding the house, as if your body were moving through molasses for a fraction of a second. The moment you were fully inside, you began to hear the hushed bits of a conversation echoing through the entrance hall from the dining room whose door was slightly ajar. The words became clearer as you neared the door.

“Harry's not ready! Have you gone completely mad?”

You found yourself grinning at the first voice, Molly Weasley's stern tone unmistakable.

“He's not a child, Molly.”

You froze as you heard the second one; you'd know it anywhere.

A heavy wave of emotion surged through you as you got near enough to the entrance to see the face of Sirius Black through the gap in the door. His time in Azkaban had taken a toll on him, you could tell. Heavy bags hung from his face, his cheeks hollow; although his gray eyes still held that spark in them. His hair was longer, somehow even more wild and unruly than before, but it suited him.

“Well he's not an adult either! He's not James.”

You caught a flash of ginger as Molly crossed the room, using her wand to aggressively clear away the plates on the table as she made her point.

“I know he isn't, but he can handle himself,” Sirius said, “and I'll be there to protect him.”

“How touching, Black. Perhaps the boy will grow up to be a felon just like his godfather.”

Your stomach dropped at the third voice. Shit.

Your presence remained unannounced, but as you peaked your head around the corner of the door frame you were met with Severus' stoic face, an imperceptible crease of distaste in his brow as he regarded Sirius. As your view widened you saw that Lupin sat to his left, a human wall between the two former foes.

You stilled at the door, taking a deep breath in an attempt to settle your irrationally rioting nerves. It's not as if you didn't know they would be there, but it had been so long since you'd seen any of them. So much has changed. . .

“You stay out of this, Snivelus. I don't care what Dumbledore has to say about your supposed reformation, but I know better.”

“Don't you have to go play fetch elsewhere?”

“Oh come on, you two,” Remus sighed.

Well, maybe not much has changed after all.

“Still resorting to playground bickering, are we?”

Several heads snapped in your direction at your words, and you were met with various reactions. Molly's face immediately split into a smile and she rushed around to table to greet you.

“(Y/n), dear! So nice to see you again,” she pulled you into a surprisingly strong hug and you couldn't help but join in her laughter.

“It's good to be back,” you admitted, “Charlie says hello, by the way.”

“Oh, I'm going to give give that boy a talking to,” Molly huffed, “you aren't his owl, dear. The least he could do is write home and say so himself.”

“Romanian mountain ranges keep a wizard busy,” you grinned, “He says he tries to keep in touch.”

“Sending home a bag of petrified dragon scales with a note that says 'look at this!!' is hardly keeping in touch,” she retorted, fussing about with your jacket's collar that had become wrinkled from her embrace.

Even from across the table you could feel Sirius' eyes on you, grateful that you had Molly's whirlwind greeting as a scapegoat for your flushed face.

“(Y/n). . .” he said softly, getting up from his seat.

“Hey,” you smiled, fighting the lump in your throat as he wrapped his arms around you. He was so warm, still wearing that damn leather jacket he'd somehow been reunited with after his imprisonment.

“What are you doing here? They told me you were out working in America,” Sirius said, eyes twinkling as he held you at arm's length.

“Well, I suppose I'm sort of working everywhere these days,” you said. As his words registered in your brain you turned to Molly with narrowed eyes. “You didn't tell him I was coming?”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” she said coyly.

You shook your head, turning back to Sirius.

“I'm so sorry, Molly said I could stay here so I thought she already ran it by you—”

“No, no, of course you can stay!” he said enthusiastically, “I'm glad you're here.”

He seemed gentler than he was before, certainly more mellow than in his youth, but that energy that was so quintessentially him remained buzzing beneath his skin, and Merlin, you'd missed it.

After realizing how long the two of you had spent practically holding each other you coughed awkwardly, slowly drifting apart. As you looked around the table your eyes caught Severus' and you thought your heart stopped for a moment. To the untrained eye he probably seemed just as uninterested as ever, but the look of shock in his eyes was so blatantly apparent to you that it threw you off guard. You managed to cast a small smile in his direction, but his expression remained unchanged while yours dropped. You felt your stomach twist up in knots as you thought about what had happened the last time you saw each other.

Lupin looked between the pair of you before getting up from his own seat and coming to your rescue. He extended his arms with a kind smile, and you happily shifted your attention to him.

“It's about time London had its best auror back in town,” he said.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Moony,” you said playfully, hugging him tight, “It's good to see you too.”

“Are you hungry?” Molly asked, pulling a chair out for you.

“Oh no, I had something on the way here,” you said, taking a seat, “thank you, though.”

It felt surreal to be back here, where it all started. The faces were different—some new, some missing—but the same determined feeling remained.

“Now, where were we,” Sirius said, his confidence returning to his shoulders as he addressed the table.

“We were just talking about how Harry isn't ready to be tangled up in all this,” Molly said sternly.

“I think he should decide that for himself,” Sirius said adamantly.

“Well of course the boy would say he wants to fight, he's—”

“Listening in right now,” you pointed out, jutting your head in the direction of the open door where Harry stood, half obscured by the shadow of the stairway.

The boy flushed, backing away slightly as he was caught. But his eyes lit up as they landed on you, and you felt a tug at your heart as you saw your best friend in their bright green hues.

“(Y/n), you're back,” he said in disbelief.

“And here to stay for a bit, apparently,” you said with a smile.

Molly looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh.

“You know what, we should stop for the night anyways,” she said with a wave of her hand, “We've kept the children up long enough with our chatter, and (Y/n) ought to get some rest as well. Off to bed, the lot of you.”

Some of the other adults exchanged some knowing smiles as she shooed them out of the room. People slowly trickled out through the doorway, goodbyes exchanged, and before long it was just you and your godson left.

You had been lucky enough to meet Harry at the end of his third year, and he'd broken the news about Sirius' innocence to you. You so badly wanted to be there for Harry sooner, but between your strained relationship with the Ministry and cleaning up the mess with MACUSA in the States, you always seemed to be called away from the boy. You wanted nothing more than to take him away from that horrid house—you knew how nasty Petunia could be firsthand. Nonetheless, he seemed to be doing well, and you were happy that you'd grown closer over the last few years even if you couldn't be there in person all the time.

“I've got another little souvenir for you, by the way,” you said, having migrated to the living room.

Harry seemed to perk up at that. Since your visits had been so sparse, you began to make it a tradition to bring him back something magical from whatever part of the world you'd been working in.

“You mentioned you were struggling in Potions the last time we spoke,” you said, rummaging through your bag, eventually producing a small, gold-rimmed vial full of a deep maroon liquid. Small black clouds seemed to tumble in a miniature cyclone inside the glass.

“Dragon's breath essence,” you grinned, “nicked it off of Charlie before I left Romania. Put a few drops of this in your salamander blood the next time you brew a Wiggenweld potion and you're set to pass with flying colors.”

“Brilliant!” Harry said, eyes wide, “that's on our O.W.L.S. this year.”

“I know,” you said cheekily, “you didn't hear it from me. Personally, I think an Outstanding in Potions as a requirement to become an auror is utter rubbish. Don't get me wrong, it's important to know your way around a cauldron, but to hold someone back who excels at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms just because they can't cook up a sleeping draught? I don't know, it doesn't sit right with me. And I've heard Severus is hard enough on you guys as it is.”

Harry seemed surprised at your casual address of his professor but shook it off quickly.

“But you're ace at Potions, and it seems like you really like it,” he said.

“Yeah, well I—” you faltered a bit, “I learned from the best. . .”

“Professor Slughorn, you mean?” Harry questioned.

Your eyes widened at that.

“Yeah,” you lied, recovering fast, “Well, Slughorn was a great teacher but terrible at throwing parties. He had this thing called the Slug Club and the dinners were just awful. Your mother was the first of us to join and she ended up roping me into it, and before we knew it we were all standing around in these ridiculous outfits taking swigs of the firewhiskey your dad snuck in just to get through the night.”

You smiled fondly at the memory, and you could see Harry living vicariously through the emotions on your face. You were grateful for this moment; this was the longest you'd actually gotten to sit down and talk together in a long time.

“Were you always friends?” Harry asked, “with my parents, I mean.”

You had to laugh at that question.

“With your mum, yes. Your father, well, not exactly. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1971 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your body swayed gently with the movement of the Hogwarts Express as you walked up and down the isles, looking for someplace to sit. Most of the carriages were packed tight with large groups made up of upperclassmen not exactly looking to expand their circle.

As you approached the back of the train a mostly empty car caught your eye, occupied only by two children your age, or at least that's what you guessed from their black ties and basic robes that marked them as unsorted first-years like yourself.

One of them was a brooding looking boy with messy, shoulder length black hair and shockingly pale skin, leaning against the wall of the train and halfway through a book that seemed well beyond his years. Sitting across from him was a pretty red-headed girl who was admiring the rapidly passing scenery through the window.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit with you?” you asked, sliding the screen door open.

The boy's brow furrowed, clearly about refuse when the young girl beat him to it.

“Of course not!” she beamed, her smile infectious. You didn't miss the sharp look she shot over to the boy who simply rolled his eyes in response. After you muttered a small 'thanks' she scooted over closer to the window so you could sit next to her.

“My name is Lily,” she said, extending a hand, “Lily Evans.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled, “I'm (Y/n) (L/n).”

The boy quirked a brow at your last name, his expression shifting to something unreadable as he blatantly studied you over the spine of his book. After letting this go on for some time, you glanced over at Lily.

“Does he speak?”

“Perfectly well, thank you,” the boy said coldly.

Lily sent a disappointed look his way and his heart fell slightly, but he didn't need to be friends with anyone else, and he certainly didn't want other people becoming friends with Lily either. An irrational thought, he knew, but it was how his stubborn little brain worked at the time. They didn't need anyone but each other. Wasn't that enough?

In any case, he expected his behavior would be enough to scare you off (it usually worked on other people), but to his complete and utter surprise, you began to laugh. It started off as a light giggle, soon growing into full on laughter. He stared at you in open confusion as you were nearly brought to tears from your fit.

“You're funny,” you stated honestly, managing to speak through your chortles.

The boy was taken completely aback by your candor, actually at a loss for words. Lily joined in the laughter at your simple remark.

“So you do talk, I guess you must have a name too, then,” you said teasingly.

He blinked once. Twice.

“. . . Severus Snape.”

“That's a cool name.”

The heat that crept onto the boy's face surprised no one more than himself, and he buried himself in his book quickly to hide it. Another surprisingly frank statement from you, and not one he'd ever heard before.

If he thought you were full of surprises then, he had no idea what was coming to him.

_____________________________________________________________

The minute the Sorting Hat was placed on your head, it was immediately intrigued.

“Now here's an odd one,” it chuckled, “loyal, compassionate, empathetic, and yet a razor wit. A calculating, ambitious mind, and yet a relentless sense of adventure. All this, and with your bloodline to take into account as well. Your family has quite the history here, (L/n).”

Hushed whispers fell across the Great Hall among the older students and even some of the faculty at the hat's words, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Though, I sense a different sort of mentality in you,” the hat continued, “you desire to challenge the old ways,” it paused for some time before going on, “do you truly have no preference, child?”

You were surprised at the question. You knew your family's reputation— it had been ingrained in you from a young age— but that didn't sway you, nor did it scare you. When you really thought about what house you wanted to be in, you truly couldn't think of an answer. It wouldn't change who you were, after all. Whether you donned red, yellow, blue, or green, you stood firmly in the knowledge that you would always be (Y/n) (L/n). Having made up your mind, you shook your head at the hat's question, and although its face was obscured from your view, you could almost sense its grin as it knew you were telling the truth.

“Well then,” it chuckled, “It is truly rare that I get an opportunity such as this. Let's make it interesting, then, shall we? Better be. . . Slytherin!”

Snape sat, slack-jawed, as you bounded over to the applauding Slytherin table and plopped down next to him. You rested your chin atop your folded hands, looking largely unbothered, a glint in your (e/c) eyes. He chuckled under his breath despite himself.

Full of surprises indeed.

___________________________________________________________

Your first encounter with James Potter was of a different sort.

It was the very beginning of your third year when you'd first met him properly. You had a few classes together, and Lily would rant about him constantly pestering her; occasionally you'd see the Gryffindor, along with another unfamiliar boy in his house, sprinting through the corridors, Professor McGonagall not far behind and demanding them to stop. But other than that, you'd never really interacted with him.

Ever since you'd met on the train you and Lily started to hang out more and more, with Snape “begrudgingly” tagging along. The Slytherin had been slow to warm up to you, but you were relentlessly kind and infuriatingly persistent, and eventually he found himself enjoying your little quips and comparatively sunny disposition. By the end of your first year, the three of you were nearly inseparable, and your bond only strengthened throughout your second. But third year is when things started changing.

Snape sat in the shade among the thick, overgrown roots of the old oak tree by the Black Lake, nose deep in an advanced Potions textbook he'd swiped from a fifth year as he waited for you and Lily to return from Transfiguration, the only class you didn't have together. This became your usual spot, with Lily sitting in the grass beside him and you on the branch above him, legs swinging as you absentmindedly sketched in your notebook. A comfortable silence would settle between you, something you'd all grown to enjoy; there was no need for constant conversation, it was enough sometimes to just enjoy each others' presence.

The silence he was reveling in alone, however, was promptly interrupted as rowdy laughter reached Snape's ears. Sure enough, a few figures emerged from the curve of the hill, revealing none other than James Potter, flanked by the curly haired boy he'd been seen running around with earlier along with two other Gryffindors: a short-statured boy with dirty blonde hair and another, taller and leaner, with long scars that ran along his face.

Snape didn't pay them much mind until he realized that they were heading straight for the tree— straight for him. Snape had noticed right away how the Potter boy had tried to befriend Lily as soon as she was sorted into Gryffindor, and it was safe to say he was less than fond of him despite having never really spoken to him before.

“You've got to be joking,” James snickered as he walked up to the tree, looking Snape up and down, “This is the guy Evans has been ditching us to see?”

Severus' eyes narrowed. So now he had a reason not to like him.

“Get lost,” he said, turning back to his book.

“What, you think you're too good to talk to us, huh?” James scoffed at him, clearly miffed.

As if on cue, the curly haired boy snatched the book out of Snape's hands, holding it out of his reach as he fumbled to get it back.

“Toss it, Sirius!” James called out. The boy, who he now knew as Sirius, threw the textbook like a frisbee, and Potter caught it easily.

As Snape angrily rose from his seat to get it back, the two boys continued to throw it between themselves so he couldn't grab it. Fed up, the Slytherin drew his wand but was quickly outmatched.

“Expelliarmus!”

Snape's wand flew out of his hands and straight into Sirius', who held it above his head. Just as the black haired boy jumped up for it, another spell flew towards him, this time from James.

“Winguardium Leviosa!”

Snape grit his teeth, staring helplessly at his wand as it hovered higher and higher out of his reach.

“James, come on, I think that's enough,” the taller boy near the back said.

“Don't be a bore, Remus, we're just having some fun.”

“I-I think he's right, guys.”

“Shut up, Peter.”

While his gaze was trained on his wand a harsh shove threw Snape to the ground, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes.

“No way, is he really crying?” James taunted.

“He is,” Sirius goaded on, “just look at him snivel.”

“You're right, maybe we should call him Snivelus, it suits him better.”

“Nice one, James.”

Snape winced as he was harshly pulled to his feet by James who sneered at him.

“Come on then, Snivelous. What are you gonna do?”

“Relashio!”

James' eyes widened as he suddenly felt himself repulsed back by some invisible force, his grip on Snape's robes forced to loosen as he was flung backwards. You stared the shocked Gryffindors down, wand at the ready for another spell as you ran to stand between Severus and them.

“Accio!” another voice called out, Snape's book and wand whizzing past their faces and into Lily's hands.

James staggered to his feet, trying to look unbothered by the fact that he'd just been knocked down, and by a spell that he hadn't even heard of yet.

“Look at that, boys,” he said, feigning confidence, “guess Snivelus needs a couple of girls to come to his rescue. You should ditch this loser, Evans.”

Before Lily could lash back, you stepped between them.

“What's that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.

“I'm sorry, who are you?”

You felt your forehead twitch, itching to smack that smug grin off his face.

It was Sirius who spoke next, recognition filling his gaze.

“Wait, you're the (L/n) kid, aren't you? Well that's just perfect, you two freaks can go study the Unforgivable Curses together.”

That struck a nerve in you.

“You don't know anything,” you said, not lowering your wand, “now get out of here before I knock you down too.”

“Aw, I don't know, Sirius, they're kind of cute all flustered like this,” James smirked.

You felt anger flare up in your chest, and it was Lily's turn to step in for you.

“Leave us alone, James,” she ordered.

When none of them moved you exhaled sharply, taking another step forward.

“Or I can just turn you into a flobberworm instead,” you said, “might be more fitting.”

Sirius laughed off your threat, but you could have sworn you saw a twinge of concern in his eyes as he looked over to the rest of his friends for backup.

“Let's just go, James. Come on,” the one named Remus said, trying to be the voice of reason.

The bespectacled boy frowned, shoving his wand back in his robes.

“Fine,” he said, “they aren't worth it anyways.”

He turned promptly on his heels, Sirius right behind him and Peter scampering after. Remus stayed behind for a moment, regarding you three.

“I'm sorry about them,” he said, “really.”

Your brow creased in suspicion, but you nodded, not quite smiling but offering up a neutral expression at least before he turned to catch up with the rest of his group.

“You were kidding about (L/n) being cute, right?” Sirius said as they headed back to the common room. When he was met with silence instead of a clear 'of course I was' he nearly had a stroke.

“Are you kidding, James?” Sirius said incredulously, “They're a Slytherin! They're just another dark arts dabbler who doesn't care about anything but their blood status.”

James only shrugged.

“Normally I'd agree, but they seem different,” he said. When he turned to see Sirius' unwavering expression he sighed, “I was just saying that to get a rise out of 'em. Don't worry, this won't be the last time we mess with them and Snivelus.”

Meanwhile, you were still out sitting by the tree, brushing the grass out of Severus' hair.

“That was amazing, (Y/n),” Lily said, wide-eyed, “How did you manage to learn that spell? And you already learned the worm-morphing jinx too?”

“Sev isn't the only one who's been learning ahead,” you said, “but that worm thing was a total bluff.”

“I didn't need your help,” Snape muttered.

You blinked down at him, shaking your head and unable to fight the smirk that crept onto your face.

“Sure you didn't,” you huffed, helping him up to his feet despite his protests, “don't be so dramatic, we won't tell anyone if that's what you're so worried about. Now come on, we're gonna be late for dinner. If Wilkes hogs all the Yorkshire puddings I'm blaming you entirely.”

Severus said nothing, only taking his book and wand back from Lily before you three walked back to the castle arm in arm, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It seems like so long ago,” you said, reminiscing, “Although I suppose it was, but I don't want to think about that too hard— I'll start to feel old, Merlin forbid.”

Harry's eyes were full of disbelief at your story.

“So you, my mum, and. . . Snape were friends?”

“Believe it or not,” you grinned, “unlikely trio as we were, it just sort of worked somehow.”

Until it didn't, you thought grimly, but forced the thought aside. You could tell by how quiet Harry had gotten that something was bothering him.

“My dad really did that?” he asked quietly.

Your gaze softened and you turned to fully face him.

“He was dumb and immature at the time,” you said, “we all were. There's not much else to be when you're thirteen. Each of us made plenty of mistakes, too many to count. And your mum. . . she was good for him. He always told me that she made him want to be a better person. People can change. In my opinion, there are few things someone can do that makes them truly irredeemable, and your father never came close to doing any of those things.”

You thought it better to mention that Snape probably didn't feel the same way.

“In any case, we should be getting to bed,” you said, getting up from the couch, “if you ever want to hear any other stories about your parents, I've got plenty of them.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, smile brightening his whole face, “yeah, definitely. Thank you.”

As Harry walked off to his room you sighed, making your way as quietly as you could up the creaky stairs. Just as you were about to retreat into your own guest room, your eyes snagged on the slightly ajar door at the top of the stairwell.

You stalled in front of it for a moment, wondering if you were out of your mind or not. When you had unapologetically settled on 'yes', you moved to knock on the door when it suddenly swung open. You practically leaped back at the proximity as you were met with Sirius standing in the doorway, stormy eyes wide. He'd shed his leather jacket for the night, leaving him in a dark maroon button up with the top few undone. Your senses were draped with the heady scent of his cologne, and you found yourself grasping at words to say.

When Sirius got over his initial shock he laughed sheepishly, running a hand through his curls out of habit.

“I was about to see if you were awake,” he admitted with a small grin, “Seems we both had the same idea.”

Read chapter 2 here !

#harry potter #the marauders #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #regulus black #harry potter x reader #marauders era #severus snape #snape x reader #severus snape x reader #multi chapter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction

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bumbleklee · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your work and I’ve been binging it for a while! <3 I was wondering if I could have some angst and a broken heart since it seems I like to suffer. ;’) Can I have headcannon with an insecure adventurer reader who’s in a relationship with one of the Mondstadt boys (or just the dark night because I’m down bad since he didn’t come home). They are insecure because while they are a great adventurer, ever since the traveler came, they’ve been living in the traveler’s shadow with everyone, even possibly the readers lover, praising the traveler. The reader takes on increasingly difficult missions, even putting their life on the line since they feel as though they have to prove themselves. In an attempt to stop the reader, the Mondstadt boys tell the reader that they aren’t the traveler, but instead of the good intent behind it, the reader takes it as if their lover prefers the traveler and decides to try and give up adventuring since they realized that not once did their lover go on an adventure with them, but they did with the Traveler. This was long, I’m sorry, but feel free to reject it! Stay safe and healthy!

hey!!! a few little notes: i ended up going with just diluc and instead of hcs, i wrote a little one-shot. i hope you enjoy it and i hope i nailed your idea lol <3 enjoy! (requests are open) also: u will pull diluc!!! and thank u for ur support :3

before reading: 1.8k words, little mentions of blood but nothing graphic, kinda angsty w feelings of despair (tw?? idk), under cut for length

The first time you realized you had fallen into Lumine’s shadow is when your weekly commissions are given to her. Jean didn’t give you much explanation when she sent you home for the day but you could only assume it’s because Lumine could do them better

The second time is when you were absent for a weekend to clear out Hiluchurls from Wolvendome and when you returned back to Mondstadt to share the news, everyone was preoccupied helping Lumine find her brother.

The third time is when, despite your tireless efforts to protect your hometown this year, Lumine was chosen as the Windblume Star.

You had gone from the Knights of Favonius' greatest knight to a mere shadow. Your accomplishments and achievements felt like nothing when compared to Lumine’s and you became desperate to be known again. You watched your teammates pick Lumine over you, choosing to accompany her on adventures, and your friends constantly chatting about how amazing she was.

And, well, she was.

Lumine was beautiful. She was delicate and soft and fought gracefully, while you often came home covered in dirt or blood. And she was kind - so, so kind. She offered her hand to you on multiple occasions, never once seeing you as the threat you saw her as. And beyond her looks, Lumine was passionate and strong and everything you were not. She had everything you had and more except for one thing.

Diluc.

But when you saw Lumine sitting at the bar in the tavern, sharing a daring story with your boyfriend, you became doubtful.

From your seat on the second level of the tavern, you had a perfect view of the pair. Diluc looked happy - perhaps even happier than with you - and your heart broke. Would Lumine be the end of an era between you and Diluc? You loved Diluc to death and all you wanted was for him to be happy.

The truth was, you were running out of patience, running out of fake enthusiasm and fake laughs and fake smiles when Diluc bragged to you about what Lumine did that day. The constant praises and compliments towards a woman who wasn’t even in the room tore you apart bit-by-bit. You were finding it harder to get through each day as Diluc slipped through your fingers.

When you finally broke your silence, you talked to Kaeya.

It was an accidental breakdown - Kaeya had made a cheeky comment about how his brother was spending an awfully lot of time with the traveler and you just broke down. Realizing the severity of the situation, Kaeya pulled you into his office and closed the door. He let you sit at his desk until you calmed down.

“What’s going on?”

So, you told him. You finally let out the bottled up despair and, frankly, jealousy you had been holding in for the past few weeks. You told Kaeya about how you went from ‘hero to zero’ and how you didn’t even deserve to be a knight anymore.

“If I’m not a knight, I don’t have a purpose,” You said solemnly. “I haven’t picked up my sword in a month, Kaeya.”

Kaeya makes a noise of acknowledgement and urges you to continue.

“And I can’t stand how she’s better than me! I’m the Revolutionary Knight - not her!” Despite your angered words, you’re suppressing panic deep in your chest. “She’s already taken so much from me and she’s going to take Diluc.”

“Diluc loves you,” Kaeya reassures you. You’ve never heard his voice this soft and serious before. “Nothing Lumine can do is going to make Diluc ever stop loving you.”

Deep down, you knew that. You knew that Diluc loved you and planned to marry you one day, you knew that. It was just hard to convince your heart of that. As you stared down at the floor, you heard Kaeya sigh.

“Maybe you just need to show him you’re just as good at Lumine.”

That night, you packed a bag before Diluc got home from the tavern and left for Liyue. You would fight the Cryo Regisvine and bring back Diluc a hoarfrost core. He would see your heroic nature and forget all about Lumine - they all would.

***

When Diluc came home that night to find your absence, he began to worry. You were never one to leave without saying anything so Diluc rushed to the Knight’s Headquarters quickly. He was fortunate that Jean and Kaeya were still there finalizing some paperwork.

“Master Diluc?” Jean asked, rising from her desk as Diluc rushed inside her office. “Is everything alright?”

“Y/N is missing,” He said quickly.

“Missing? Are you sure?”

“Yes! They never go anywhere without telling me,” Diluc continued. He noticed Kaeya avert his gaze and snapped his eyes over to his brother, “Kaeya, what do you know?”

“I may have told them to do something heroic to win you back,” Kaeya said, realizing his idea may not have been the best.

Diluc’s eyes widened, “Win me back?”

Kaeya sighed and explained what was going on with you. Diluc’s heart dropped into his stomach and he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. He should have been praising you, not Lumine. “They mentioned something about the Cryo Regisvine-”

Diluc didn’t let Kaeya speak another word before he took off. You couldn’t have gotten that far and when Diluc noticed the darkening weather, his feet picked up their pace.

***

A fierce gust of wind made you cover your face with your arms. Out of nowhere, it started pouring rain but you wouldn’t let that stop you. You pushed through the impending storm and made your way down into the cave where the ice monster lived. You gripped your sword tightly as the monster sensed your presence and unraveled, turning the downcoming rain into shards of ice that landed on your skin like needles.

Without much delay, you charged the Cryo Regisvine and landed three hits on its corolla before one of its leafy arms wacked into you, sending you hurdling backwards. Your sword was knocked out of your hand and you struggled to catch your breath.

More sharp icicles pierced your skin and a spray of freezing air coated your skin. Yet, you still managed to grab your sword and stand. Your hobbled toward the monster again and when the same leafy arm came towards you, you slashed at it.

The monster let out a screech and retracted itself before slamming it’s head down towards your body. You dodged the first hit but were caught off guard when the second hit knocked you off your feet. You barely had time to roll away when it slammed it’s head down a third time.

“Y/N!”

Diluc surged forwards, grabbing your arm and forcefully pulling you to your feet. Your sword became lost from your hold and the sudden movement caused the blade to scrape down your leg before clambering to the ground again. A nasty gash was left and you seethed.

He couldn’t even think as he pulled you away from the monster. You had never seen Diluc move so fast. He didn’t let you go until you were both far enough from the cave to feel secure. Diluc’s arms wrapped around your shoulders tightly and you were too stunned to say anything.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Your mind felt foggy. You tried to open your mouth and speak but no words came out.

“Do you realize how dangerous that was?”

“I just...Lumine…”

Diluc pulled back at this and stared in your eyes. You couldn’t quite match the emotion on his face. “You’re not Lumine!”

His words cut deep and you felt tears soak your eyes. Maybe if your head was clearer and you could actually hear your thoughts, you would have realized Diluc didn’t mean it that way. But the only thing consuming your mind was that he was right. You weren’t Lumine and you would never be Lumine. “I know!” You cried out suddenly, “That’s why I have to go and kill that thing! So I can give you a hoarfrost core and you’ll love me again!”

Diluc only looked at you. His hands ran down from your shoulders to your hands and he brought your left hand to his lips. You heard him sigh before kissing your knuckle gently.

Your wet hair was dripping water down your face in freezing cold droplets. At that moment you felt useless. You weren’t able to fight the Cryo Regisvine and bring Diluc a hoarfrost core. He would leave you for Lumine and there was nothing you could do about it.

“You’re hurt,” Diluc said, motioning to your leg. In your desolate state, you had forgotten about the gaping wound on your leg that was pouring blood. “Come on - we’re going home.”

You were too upset to protest and let Diluc maneuver your body onto his back. You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck and relished in the warmth his vision released. You held onto Diluc like it was the last time you ever would.

The walk back to Mondstadt was silent and when you two arrived at your shared house, Diluc let you down on the couch. You could only stare at your lap.

“I’m sorry,” You finally mumbled, “Next time I’ll finish what I started.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Diluc said sternly, “No way you’re ever going there alone again.”

Your face stiffened into annoyance. “I’m the Revolutionary Knight - I can do it.”

“No, you can’t.” His words seemed cold and unusual but they were coated in concern. Diluc reached up and cupped your face with his large hands. You tried to pull away but his grip was firm, “It’s okay.”

The situation was suddenly overwhelming and far too much to deal with. The tears you had been holding back tumbled down your cheeks and your words were choked between sobs, “Lumine is so perfect and I’m not...I don’t want you to leave me...I know I’m not good enough but-”

He stopped your rambling with a kiss. “Don’t ever think you’re not good enough,” He whispered, taking you into his arms. You hid your sobs in Diluc’s chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Eventually, your cries settled.

Diluc spent the rest of the night dressing your wound and laying with you in your bed. He didn’t stop comforting you until every horrible thought about yourself was gone from your mind. In the morning he would talk to you more but for now, his job was to make you feel strong again.

And it would take a while but one day you would come to realize that you were just as good as Lumine and no one could truly compare to you. Like the storm on that horrifying night, this too would pass.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin one shot #genshin impact oneshot #genshin self insert #genshin x you #diluc x you

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allyouneedisbuck · 3 years

Text

my arms will hold you

summary // you and bucky are having your first child. [established! bucky barnes x fem!reader]

words // 7.7K (wowza)

warnings // pregnancy, birth, brief mention of religion, excessive use of the nickname pretty girl, depiction of labor, post endgame, post tfatws. steve didn’t go back in time but no other changes to endgame ending. i hate the word belly so it’s literally not used at all sorry, it’a majority fluff!

notes // this got away from me, it was supposed to be short lol check out the iconic song you’ll be in my heart by phil collins! from the tarzan soundtrack! i researched a lot for this so hopefully it makes sense & works well!!

replies & reblogs are greatly appreciated 💞

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

7 Weeks

You hope they have his eyes. Bright, blue and sparkling. You stare down at the three tests before you, all clear and unambiguously positive.

A laugh bubbles out of you, full of joy and absolutely thrilled as you think of how long you’ve been trying and waiting for this. How happy Bucky will be. How happy you are.

You hear your front door open and close which immediately makes you pick up one of the positive tests. “Bucky!” You call out in pure excitement, unwilling to wait and tell him the news any other day.

He barely has the chance to put his bag down before you’re jumping into his arms. Your legs wrap around his hips as his hands come up to grip your thighs and hold you up.

“Pretty girl.” He laughs as you pepper kisses across his face. “What’s got you so happy? I was only gone for three days!”

You pull back to look him in the eye. He’s watching you with a bemused smile which makes you giggle. He has no idea of the test in your right hand or the other two sitting in your shared bathroom.

“I’m pregnant.” You breathe out. His eyes trace over you as you bite down the smile threatening to break out on your face. You wrap an arm around his neck as you pull the hand holding the test in between the two of you. His eyes immediately snap to the test and you’re sure he can’t actually read it in this position, but you’re too excited to care.

He shakes his head in shock. “You’re pregnant?” He asks softly. There was a happy lilt to his tone that lets you know his silence isn’t anger or nerves but just him struggling to figure out if this is real.

You nod your head rapidly and can no longer hold back your smile. “Three tests. All of them say yes to there being a baby Barnes in eight or nine months.”

His smile appears slowly, but it’s beautiful and bright as he gently places you back on your feet. “Fuck.” He laughs before pulling you into a kiss.

It’s all smiles and one of the messiest kisses you’ve ever had, but definitely one of the best too. When he pulls back, he’s breathing heavily and he rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.” He whispers.

His look is full of unadulterated love and affection, a look you’re sure you’re returning tenfold. “I love you more.”

His hands move to your waist and he hoists you up again. “Not fucking possible, pretty girl.” He mumbles into your neck as he begins to press soft kisses to your skin.

10 Weeks.

Your foot is shaking anxiously on the edge of the exam table as your eyes filter around the room. You had been in this gynecologist office many times, but today you can’t help but feel anxious as you wait for your doctor. The nurse had already come in and done your pre-physical checks; Weight, blood pressure, and some questions.

Bucky leans forward and wraps his hand around your ankle gently. “Relax, pretty girl.” He’s pulled up the guest chair so it’s next to you as you two wait.

You chew on your nail nervously as you stare down at him. “What if I got your hopes up? What if it was a false positive?” You can’t help but feel like maybe you had jumped the gun in telling Bucky the day you had taken the test.

Bucky’s hand moves up your leg until it’s resting right above your knee. “Then I’ll take you home and we’ll try again. I have no problem with trying for babies with you, pretty girl.” His hand slides further up and you laugh as you push it away.

“Buck! I’m serious.” You groan. You hear footsteps outside your door and freeze before they fade away. “What if-“

“-Stop.” He says firmly. “I’m serious too. Then we try again. Maybe it’ll hurt for a while, but we'll get through it together.” He reaches up and pulls your hand away from your face before wrapping it in between both of his. “And I’m no doctor, but I’m sure three false positives is pretty rare.”

Your heads snap up as the door opens and your doctor steps in along with a nurse. She turns to you both with a bright smile as the nurse shuts the door softly.

“I hear somebody thinks they’re pregnant!” The nurse sits by the computer in the room as she comes to stand beside you.

You nod slowly. “Me.” You shake your head in embarrassment. “Obviously. I’m the one with the vagina.” You flinch, but can’t stop the words from tumbling out. “I took three tests and they all came out positive. He says false positives are pretty rare, but he’s also not a doctor or scientist. He didn’t even go to college-“ You’re rambling on out of nerves. “Sorry. That came out wrong. I love you.” You say quickly glancing at Bucky before looking back at your doctor.

Bucky laughs as she watches you with amused eyes. “He’s right though! False positives are far rarer than false negatives.” She pulls the stool towards your table and sits down next to you.

You let out a deep breath. “That’s good to know.” Bucky squeezes your hand gently in a relax, I told you.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Barnes. I’m Dr. O.” She reaches her right hand across you, Bucky glances at you nervously before holding out his left hand to meet her. She doesn’t acknowledge the vibranium hand, just turns to look at you once the handshake is over. “I was so happy when my receptionist told me what your appointment was for, I know you two have been trying for awhile now.”

“We’re just going to ask a few questions, then determine the best course of action for finding out if you're pregnant. Depending on how far along we think you are we’ll either do an ultrasound or blood test.” She explains as she leans away from you.

You nod. “Sounds good.” It’s weird to have another person in the room besides your doctor and nurse, but Bucky’s presence is welcome. His hand in yours and thumb gently rubbing circles into your skin helps relax you as Dr. O talks.

“Let’s start with when you took the tests.” She looks over to the nurse who nods, hands ready to take notes as you speak.

You nod. “Around three weeks ago?” You look over at Bucky who nods. “We were out of town for a few days visiting a friend, so I booked the first appointment available after we got back.”

“Where did you go?” She laughs when you furrow your brows at her question. “I’m sorry! I’m nosy.”

You laugh gently at that. “Oh it’s fine! We went to Louisiana! One of Buck’s best friends is down there and we just love the area.” You explain.

She nods. “What made you take the tests? Mention anything like a missed period, morning sickness, any other symptoms.” She explains.

“I originally thought my period was late. I didn’t think anything of it until we reached the second month and then I realized it wasn’t late, I had missed two periods.” You explain as you think back to what made you get the tests that day. “But what really made me get the tests was I was planning on cooking for Buck, he was getting home from a work trip that day, and when I pulled out some of the ingredients I just felt so sick. It’s my favorite dish! The smell never bothers me, nothing in it bothers me, I was just so confused until I put two and two together and thought I should buy a test just to check.” You’re a little breathless as you finish and she’s nodding along as the computer keys clack away.

“That sounds like you’re anywhere from nine to eleven weeks!” She stands up. “We can definitely try a transabdominal ultrasound. We should be able to get a clearer date and maybe even hear a heartbeat.”

“Really?” You ask softly. You hadn’t expected to come in and hear or see your baby. You weren’t even sure if there was one. “We can… We can see the baby today?”

“If your dates are correct, then yes!” She gives you an excited smile as she pulls the small machine towards your bedside. “Or we can do a blood test. It’s up to you.”

“Oh, can we try the ultrasound? I would… That would make me feel better.” You admit, squeezing Bucky’s hand tightly. “Of course.” She agrees.

Bucky pulls his hand away from its resting spot on your stomach, but doesn’t release his grip on you. You pull up your shirt with one hand as she and the nurse move around the room. “This will be cold. Try not to move around too much.”

You flinch as the gel touches your stomach. “That is cold.” You murmur to Bucky as she pulls the wand towards you. He smiles up at you and it makes your cheeks warm.

“Okay.” She hums as she moves the wand around your stomach. You wait with baited breath in hopes of hearing a heartbeat come through. Your grip on Bucky’s hand gets tighter and tighter as the seconds tick by, but he doesn’t say a word in complaint.

Then there’s a loud thumping sound and Dr. O turns to you with a bright smile. “There we go! A nice, strong heartbeat.” She turns the screen so you and Bucky can see it clearly.

You and Bucky look at each and it’s like everything has fallen into place.

Bucky Barnes had never allowed himself to dream of this life. A wife, a house of his own, a baby; Bucky Barnes had never imagined his own family.

“Oh!” Both of your heads snap around the look at the doctor. “There’s two heartbeats.” She moves the wand around again and then there’s another steady thumping sound. “Baby A and Baby B.” She moves the wand back and forth so the two of you get a clearer picture.

When you look back at Bucky his eyes are brimming with tears, but there's a smile on his face that makes your heart race. So big that his eyes crinkle and you’re positive his cheeks hurt, but it makes you smile too.

“Twins.” You whisper to him. Everything else fades into the background as you two stare at each other. He nods and pulls your hand to his lips so he can press a kiss to it. “Twins.” He whispers back.

“I’ll print out some photos for you two.” Dr. O says quietly.

And… Bucky Barnes didn’t know if he still believed in God, but he would thank Him everyday for this miracle of a life he’s been granted. He would go through hell and back again if it meant he still got this life with you.

16 Weeks

“Do you think it’s a boy and a girl? Two boys? Two girls?” Your now nursery is painted white with one forest green wall. Bucky is sitting on the floor in the middle of the room working on the matching cribs as you lean against the door jam. “Should we have waited until we were further in to start all this?”

Bucky looks up at you and notices you chewing on the skin around your nail nervously as your eyes flicker around the half finished nursery. The walls had been painted when you had been gone for the day so you could stay away from the fumes. Bucky had started the cribs first, boxes of blankets, mattress pads and other small items were piled in the corner of the room.

“I thought you wanted it to be a surprise.” He puts down the screwdriver in his hand to focus his full attention on you. “And your doctor said the first twelve weeks held the highest risk for anything happening.”

You look down at him. “I know… I do want it to be a surprise… I just want to know what you think we’ll have. I think it’s boys.” You look down at your small, but there, bump. Your doctor had informed you that twins would most likely make gaining weight more likely and quicker than a single baby. You guess you just hadn’t expected the bump to show up so soon.

You hear Bucky stand and watch as he stumbles over all the spread out pieces of the cribs. “Listen.” He tilts your chin up towards him. “I can’t promise you this will be perfect, but I can promise you I’ll be here every step of the way.”

You reluctantly nod. Logically you knew he was right, you had taken all the necessary steps and precautions your doctor had suggested. You felt good, despite the uncomfortableness of growing two humans. “I know I’m being, like, anxious or whatever. I just… I want this so bad. I don’t know if I could survive if something happened.” You admit quietly, almost ashamed at the weight this feeling had left on your shoulders.

“Pretty girl.” Bucky murmurs sadly. “If anything ever happened, I would be here every step of the way. You’ve got my heart. You’re my life.” He rubs reassuring hands up and down your arms. “And if you ever felt like you were too far gone, I’d be there to pull you back.”

You feel your eyes tear as you look up at him. “Tell me what you think they’ll be. Boys. Girls.” You wrap your arms around his waist and step forward to rest your cheek against his chest. “Please.”

He wraps his arms around you in return and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I think we’re going to have girls.” He says softly, “And they’ll be beautiful like you. I hope they are. Your eyes, your hair, your pretty smile.” Bucky presses another gentle kiss to your forehead, you hum in response and he takes that as a hint to keep talking. “And smart like you too. I just want mini yous, pretty girl. If I could live my life surrounded by my girls, I would be content.”

His soft words and the steady sound of his heartbeat in your ear pressed against his chest has you calming immediately. You take a deep breath before pulling back to look at him. “I love you, Bucky. I am so lucky that you’re my husband.”

You can feel Bucky’s laugh and it makes you smile. “Pretty girl, I’m the lucky one. I never thought I’d have this. Buying a house and building cribs and picking out baby clothes.”

“Buck-'' You try to interrupt him, but he shakes his head and you shut your mouth. Instead you smile up at him softly as he continues speaking.

“I never thought I could be loved like this.” He leans down and gently nudges his nose against yours. You close your eyes and do the same. “But I’m so happy I have it.”

You have to admit, when Bucky Barnes had come into your life with harsh stares and an intimidating presence, you had never imagined this would be the life you would have with him.

“I love you pretty girl.” He declares, voice strong and full of love, before dropping to his knees in front of you. You laugh as his hands land gently on your stomach. “And I love you, babies Barnes.”

“Babies Barnes?” You ask with a small smile. “That’s what we’re calling them now?”

Bucky looks up at you with a shining smile. “We’ll talk names later, I think Babies Barnes sounds good for now.”

You rest one of your hands on his and run your other hand through his hair as he talks quietly to your stomach. “What about the Barnes Babies?” You murmur. “Sounds better.”

20 Weeks

“Bucky.” You call from your spot on the floor in the center of the nursery. You were in the middle of folding clothes. Most of the items were matching and you had been slowly but surely separating them out and into the two separate dressers. “Bucky!” You call again, raising your voice just a little more.

There are heavy footsteps as Bucky rushes up the stairs. “What? What’s wrong?” He asks from the doorway while his eyes flicker around the room panicked. You feel a little guilty when you notice his shoulders relax at the sight of you fine on the floor. “Why are you down there?’

“I’m organizing the baby clothes.” You answer in a matter of fact tone. Bucky opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off already knowing what it’ll be. “I’m fine down here! I’m not in any more danger down here than I am sitting on the couch.” You look around the almost finished nursery. “You’ll just have to help me up later.” You look back up at him a little embarrassed.

Bucky comes and kneels down beside you. You let out a relieved sigh as he runs his knuckle against your cheek gently. “What did you need, pretty girl?’ He asks with a knowing smile.

“I’m starving.” You throw your head back in an overdramatic groan. “I would kill for some oreos…” You think for a moment. “Do we still have the kraft macaroni and cheese?”

Bucky scrunches his nose up in disgust, but nods. “Please don’t ask me to mix those together.”

“I wasn’t!” You slap a hand against his chest. It makes him shake a little in his kneeling position, but he stays upright. “I want them separately. But I do want both. Please, Buck? You always make the macaroni and cheese so perfectly! I always mess it up.” You put on your best puppy dog eyes and pout your lips.

He throws his head back in a laugh. “You don’t need to do all that, pretty girl.” He snorts. He kisses your cheek before standing up. “I would do anything you asked me to.”

“Even bring me a glass or cherry Dr. Pepper with it?” You weren’t a huge soda person normally, but you had tried a sip of the drink when you and Bucky had gone out to dinner and it had become one of your biggest cravings.

“Especially that.” He grins at you before spinning on his heel to retreat back downstairs. “Thank you!” You call out. “Call me if you need me!” He yells back and you smile to yourself. You place a hand on your stomach and look down.

“That was your daddy.” You say softly. You rub gentle circles over your loose t-shirt. “He loves you two so much already. We love you two so much. We just can’t wait for you to get here.” You admit. Talking to your stomach has become a habit of yours. Your doctor had explained babies will usually respond to noise when they can start hearing and while she had assured you kicking with twins may take a little longer, you were desperate to feel them move around.

You glance at the door before looking back down. “He’s been so much help. I’d read horror stories about husbands who are never home or who don’t take up cooking and cleaning. But your daddy just… does it all for me.” Your voice has taken on a tone of pure love as you talk to your babies about Bucky. “He built your cribs. Rubs my feet. Cooks me disgusting children’s food.” You giggle quietly. “I’m so happy I get to build you two a home full of love and-” You jump when you feel a gentle kick against your hand. “No way.” You whisper.

“Bucky!” You yell out shakily. “Bucky! Bucky! Bucky!” You don’t think of the panic you could be making him feel as you stare down at your stomach with happy tears in your eyes. Bucky’s by your side in an instant, his hand coming to rest over yours and his eyes observing your face in a frenzied panic.

“What’s wrong? What hurts?” He asks anxiously. You shake your head and move his hand so it’s resting underneath your own instead of on top. “What? Christ, pretty girl! Is every-”

“Just talk to them.” You say quietly. “About anything.” Your urge.

Bucky looks at you questioningly, but settles next to you when you nod. “Okay…” He says quietly. “Um,” he glances at you, “I’m so excited for you two to be here.” He starts a little nervously. You squeeze his hand in reassurance. “I never thought I would have my own baby, let alone twins, with such a knockout.” He laughs when you roll your eyes. “I never thought I could love anybody this much, then I met your mom. Then she told me she was gonna have you guys and I… I knew that I would do anything if it meant I got to keep all this love in my li-” He cuts himself off and looks at you with wide eyes.

“Did you feel it?” You ask softly. Bucky moves his hand over a little and lets out a wet laugh. “That’s... That’s fucking amazing.” He presses a kiss to your lips. “You’re fucking amazing.”

The two of you can’t stop staring at each, certainly looking like some smiling fools, until Bucky’s eyes widen and he yanks himself away. “You’re macaroni and cheese!” He yells as he stumbles out of the room leaving you doubling over in laughter.

26 Weeks

“When she said twins,” You pause as you take a deep breath, “I didn’t think she meant everything would be so much worse.” Bucky laughs as you settle on the couch next to him. He holds his arms up as he waits for you to rest your feet in his lap.

He immediately begins to rub your feet as you turn the movie on. “What hurts?” He asks softly. His eyes trail over you like he expects a wound, something easily fixable, so he could better help you.

You give him a gentle smile. “My feet. My back. I’m just uncomfortable, Buck.” You explain. You knew he felt bad that there wasn’t much he could do besides sit next to you and rub your feet and legs. “I don’t think I realized how fast things move when it’s two babies growing inside you instead of just one.”

“I wish I could do more.” He says quietly as he massages your left foot. His vibranium hand is cool against your skin and offers some relief from the heat you felt was taking over. You know he’s unsure of what to say or do to help and that he didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but, “All I need is this, Buck.” You poke his thigh with your right foot.

When he looks over at you questioningly, you smile. “I’m gonna be totally honest with you here, Bucky. There’s not much you can do to help me now, or the next few months, except keep rubbing my feet, helping around the house and keep calling me pretty girl.”

He pinches your ankle. “For years you’ve told me you didn’t like that nickname.” There’s no malice or annoyance in his voice. Bucky knows as well as you do that although you may roll your eyes or laugh when he calls you that, you hate when he calls you anything else.

Especially now. “Makes me feel good.” You shrug as nonchalantly as you can. “I’m gaining weight like crazy. I’m swollen and cranky, it’s nice to know you still think I’m your pretty girl.” You admit shyly.

“I always think you’re pretty, my love.” You feel your neck heat at his words and his hand coming to rest on your thigh. “But… fuck… I don’t know if there’s anything as beautiful as watching you grow our children. I’m in awe of you everyday, pretty girl.” His eyes are lit up with passion. You laugh as he moves towards you. “I am so in love with you, it’s crazy. I just... I can barely keep my hands to myself half the time.”

You cup his jaw with your hand and your nails lightly scratching at his beard. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Bucky Barnes.” You murmur as he leans in towards you. “Cause I’ll make you follow through.”

He groans before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Come on, pretty girl. Come to bed. I think I know a way to make you feel a little better.” He whispers against your lips. You nod with an excited giggle as he stands and holds a hand out to you.

32 Weeks

“I appreciate you guys coming out to see us.” You press a kiss to Sam’s cheek before moving to hug Wanda who was trailing into your house behind him. “We didn’t want a huge baby shower, but we did want to see some of our closest friends and it means so much you all came out!” You gush.

Wanda presses a kiss to your cheek before standing back and looking at you excitedly. “Oh, you look beautiful.” She says kindly, her eyes trailing over your now much larger bump. “Twins.” She murmurs wistfully as your hands grip hers tightly.

“Oh, Wanda…” You trail off, suddenly feeling guilty for your pushful invitation to your closest friends. She shakes her hand with a bright smile. “None of that! I’m so excited for you and Bucky. I’ve never met two more deserving people.” She presses another kiss to your cheek as she moves past you. “Now where is your husband?”

“In the backyard!” You laugh. “He’s working on grilling. We have drinks and snacks out there!” You push her and Sam towards the sliding door in your kitchen. Steve slips through your front door next, a bright smile on his face when he realizes it’s you who’s greeting him.

“You look lovely.” He says kindly as he leans down to press a kiss to your head. “Bucky has spent hours on the phone talking about how beautiful you look, but still didn’t do you justice.”

“You charmer!” You squeeze his arm as you laugh. “He’s outside. I’ll give you fifty bucks if you say something just as sweet to him.” Steve shakes his head with an ill-suppressed smile. “Come on! I’ll add an extra twenty if you kiss him too.” You plead. You and Bucky had been so busy with preparations, neither of you had seen your friends in a long time. You were in desperate need of a laugh with everyone.

Steve shakes his head, but he turns to you and winks when he goes to open the sliding door, which makes you smile largely.

You greet a few more friends; Rhodey who comes with a gentle smile and gifts from Pepper despite your warning against them. He has a nervous Peter Parker in tow, who adored you but was still terrified of Bucky despite it having been years since their fight.

“For you.” He smiles sweetly. He’s gotten more handsome as he’s gotten older, more confident too, but he still turns red when you press a kiss to his cheek as you thank him for the small box he has handed over. You laugh as he rushes after Rhodey, face down in an attempt to hide the blush.

You were unsure when the Avengers had become your family too. Bucky had brought you around eight months into your relationship and they had taken you in easily. Bucky says your light filled a void after all the darkness they had suffered. You shook him off, but the words always made your heart soar. If you were even just a small piece of their healing, you were happy.

An arm wraps around your waist and you smile when you smell Bucky’s cologne. “Funny joke with Steve, pretty girl.” He whispers against the shell of your ear.

“I thought so.” You shiver. “Did he kiss you too? Please tell me he did!” You turn and look up at him with pleading eyes. Bucky laughs before reluctantly nodding. “That’s incredible.” You move away from your spot in the entrance and hold onto Bucky’s arm as he leads you towards the backyard. “Give him seventy dollars sometime today, please.”

“What?” Bucky stops in his tracks, making you freeze too. “For what?”

You look up at him innocently. “For making your severely pregnant wife laugh.” Bucky slides the door open with a shake of his head and gestures for you to go out first. You smile gratefully and step out.

Your friends are spread out in the small yard. Sam has taken over the grill, while Steve is deep in conversation with Rhodey and Wanda. Peter chatters away as Sam nods along his eyes glazed over.

“Thank you for planning this.” You slip your hand into the crook of Bucky’s elbow as the two of you make your way into the group. “I didn’t realize how much I missed everyone with how busy we’ve been.”

“Anything for you, pretty girl.” He says softly. “Everyone loves you, it wasn’t hard to convince them to make the trip to come see you.”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel special.” You tease. Bucky laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek before going to join Sam at the grill. You meet Steve, Wanda and Rhodey with a smile.

“We were just talking about names.” Steve quickly stands up from the chair he had been lounging in. You shake your head with narrowed eyes. “Sit down.” He orders, it’s not harsh, but he’s taken on a completely different tone of voice that makes you giggle. You glance at Wanda with comical, wide eyes before taking the seat.

“I like it when you use your Captain's voice.” You glance at Wanda in thanks when she hands over a glass of water. “I never got to hear it. We met after you retired!” Steve’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red as Rhodey and Wanda laugh. “Anyways, tell me about the names!”

Wanda starts. “Bucky told us you two wanted to find out the gender when you give birth, so we each came up with two names for each of the three scenarios. I was given the one girl, one boy scenario.” She explains quickly her hand waving around in front of her excitedly.

“And what did you come up with?” You ask in amusement, but also with a little curiosity. You and Bucky had briefly discussed names, both floating around ideas when they appeared, but nothing had been chosen yet. Maybe one of your friends would have a good name idea.

Wanda claps. “I chose Oliver George Barnes if it’s a boy! Oh, I think Oliver is such a lovely name. And then the baby has Bucky’s dad’s name too. A little bit of old and new.” She explains and you nod along. “And for a girl, Elena Rebecca Barnes.”

You furrow your brows at her. “How do you know so much about Buck’s family’s names?” A light blush colors her cheeks. “I may have visited the Bucky Barnes page on the Smithsonian website in preparation.” She admits.

“Okay Rhodey, hit me!” You turn so you can look at him. He sits up a little straighter. “For two girls. Baby girl number one, Olivia Rose Barnes” You scrunch your nose up at the middle name. “And for girl number two, Eloise Ann Barnes.” Your eyes widen at the suggestion. You had expected him to just repeat your name back to you.

“I… I actually kind of like Eloise.” You admit after a moment. “Little El.” One of your hands comes to rest on your stomach. You look up at Steve with a smile. “Hit me with the two boys' names, Rogers.”

Steve glances over at Bucky and Sam before stepping towards you conspiratorially. “Samuel James Barnes and Theodore George Barnes.” You look over at Bucky and your eyes meet his. You smile softly when he waves you over.

“Those are lovely, Steve.” You hold your hand out for him and he helps you stand. “I… I will tell Buck about all of these names. I love them all.” You say gratefully before slowly making your way towards the grill.

Bucky’s arm wraps around your waist as soon as you’re beside him. “What are you four whispering about over there, pretty girl?” He asks quietly as Sam and Peter begin to bring the plates of food over to the table Bucky had set up earlier.

You glance back at Sam to make sure he’s out of hearing distance. “Baby names! Buck, Steve came up with Samuel James Barnes. I just love it.” Bucky’s already shaking his head with a frown. “What?” You ask.

“I’m not naming our son after me and Sam.” He glances back at the group who has come together at the table. Wanda and Steve wave you two over and you hold up a finger in response before looking back at Bucky. “What were the girls names?” He asks.

You shrug. “Olivia Rose, Eloise Ann, and Elena Rebecca.” None of the names hit a particular chord with you, but you could admit they were all very pretty. “I like Eleanor, I think.” You admit as Bucky mulls the names over.

“That’s a pretty name.” He says softly. “Eleanor Rebecca Barnes.” He adds on and a smile breaks out on your face. You lean up and he meets you halfway in a gentle kiss. When you pull back he rests his forehead against yours.

“Did we just pick a baby name?” You whisper in shock. Bucky’s eyes crinkle as he smiles excitedly. “I think we did, pretty girl.”

38 Weeks

At first you think they’re just kicking. They’d been doing it more and more the further along you got. You groan and shift around in bed as quietly as possible trying not to wake Bucky.

You take a few deep breaths as you try to drift off into sleep, but a shooting pain hits you and your arm whips out and your hand grips Bucky’s shirt.

You gasp. “Bucky.” You pull at his shirt in an attempt to wake him. You whine in pain and begin to pull harder. “Bucky!” You say a little louder.

You feel him begin to wake under your palm. “What’s up, pretty girl?” He mumbles into his pillow, still not looking over at you.

The pain rips through you again and this time you yank at his shirt violently. “James Buchanan Barnes if you don’t get the fuck up, I will murder you.”

That has him turning to look at you with wide eyes. His eyes scan over you and pause on the hand sitting on your stomach before they trail up to your face scrunched up in pain.

“Oh shit.” He stumbles out of the bed and comes around to your side. You turn to look up at him with pleading eyes and notice the pure panic in his. “Um- Okay.” He stands up straight and takes a few deep breaths.

Another contraction hits. “Take your time.” You grit out as you try to breathe through it. “Not like I’m having a fucking baby here.”

“Shut up.” He laughs as he leans down to gently grip your arm. “Did your water break?” He asks as he helps your stand.

You look down at the mattress then the floor before shaking your head. “Not yet, but these really hurt I-“

“Don’t have to explain yourself to me, pretty girl.” He helps you around the room and into the bathroom and helps you sit on top of the toilet lid. “You don’t have pants on, what should I grab for you to wear?”

You glance down at your bare thighs, you hadn’t really realized. “A dress! Just grab a dress, I can slip into it.” You murmur as you rest your forehead against the tiled wall next to you.

Bucky disappears and you count to yourself as you breathe through your pain. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” You murmur. They were early, two weeks early, but Dr. O had warned you that multiples liked to make surprise appearances.

“A dress.” Bucky stands in front of you with one of your maternity sun dresses. He helps you stand again and you take it from his hands.

“Go put on pants, I can get the dress on myself.” Bucky looks hesitant at the suggestion even though all he’s got on is a t-shirt and boxers. “Buck. Please. The sooner we’re both ready the sooner we can go.”

He nods and sprints out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. You slide the t-shirt you had fallen asleep in off and pull the dress over your body. You let out a sigh of relief at the fact that Bucky had chosen one of the stretchy cotton dresses and not one of your nicer maternity ones. You brush your teeth quickly and splash some water on your face.

“Bucky.” You cry out when you feel the rush of water between your legs.

“Let’s go.” Bucky appears in the doorway with sweatpants and his jacket pulled haphazardly over his shirt. He freezes when he notices your problem. He doesn’t say anything, just disappears then reappears with clean underwear for you. He helps you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom again then helps you change again. “Let’s go.” He says softly with a gentle kiss to your temple.

It’s all a blur from there. Bucky’s grabbing your go bag, leading you to the car and driving you to the hospital.

“She’s having our babies.” Bucky blurts out to the receptionist once the two of you reach the neonatal ward. She smiles pacifingly at him before looking at you with concern. “Sit her down, sir.” She orders and Bucky helps you sit in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs.

“She should be in a bed right?” Bucky asks worriedly looking back and forth between you and her.

“One of the nurses is going to bring a wheel cheer so we can bring her to her room.” She explains kindly. “I just need your names and your doctor’s name.”

You block Bucky’s voice out as another contraction hits. “Fuck, fuck fuck.” You cry. “B - A - R - N -E-S.” Bucky glances back at you at the sound of your cry. “Her doctor is Dr. O.” The woman hums as her fingers fly across the keyboard.

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder that makes you look up. “I’m Natalie.” The woman smiles kindly. “I’m gonna bring you to your room, okay?”

You nod slowly with tears in your eyes. You’re tired and uncomfortable and the pain keeps getting worse and worse. “Let’s get you up, mama.” She helps you stand slowly and guides you to the wheelchair waiting by the doors.

You glance back at Bucky, who’s still talking with the receptionist and scribbling answers on the clipboard she had slid over to him. “My husband. I need Bucky. I-“

“They’ll bring him back as soon as he’s done with the paperwork.” She rubs your shoulder calmingly. “I promise all we’re gonna do is get you in bed.”

You take a deep breath as she pushes you down the hall and away from Bucky. “I can’t do this without him.” You’re breathing heavily as the contractions hit you. “I need him. Please. Can’t he do paperwork later? It’s not like I can leave!” You cry out.

She gently moves you from the wheelchair to the hospital bed. “We’ll wait until your husband, Bucky, right?” She asks as she pushes you back so you’re laying down. You give her a teary eyed nod. “We’ll wait until Bucky is here to help change you into your gown.” She murmurs reassuringly.

There’s a knock on the door and then Bucky is rushing in with another nurse trailing after him. “I’m pretty sure half the answers on that paperwork are illegible but…” The nurse trails off with an amused smile.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Bucky pushes back the stray hairs that are sticking to your sweaty forehead before giving you a kiss. “I’m here. What do you need?”

“It’s up to you, mama.” Natalie places the hospital gown on the edge of your bed. “If you want us or your husband to help you into the gown.” She gives you a knowing smile.

“Can we…” You take a deep breath. “Can we have a moment?” They nod and leave the room. You look up at Bucky with teary eyes. “I don’t think I can do this, Buck.” You admit.

He helps you sit up while shaking his head. “Yes you can, pretty girl.” He murmurs reassuringly. He lifts your dress so it scrunches up at your hips and waits until you raise your arms so he can take it off completely. He picks the pink gown up and slides it over your held out arms.

“How do you know that?” You wipe hastily at the tears streaming down your face as Bucky moves around the tie the gown in the back. He helps you lay back down before slipping his shoes off and crawling in beside you.

You moan in relief when he starts rubbing gentle circles over your stomach and as his warmth envelopes you. Bucky presses gentle kisses to your neck and jaw. “I know because you are the strongest woman I know.” He whispers. “You have been growing these humans in your uterus for almost nine months. And you’ve done it without flinching. This isn’t gonna be what takes you out, pretty girl.”

There’s a gentle knock on the door and your nurse comes back in with a soft smile, followed by Dr. O and two more people. “Who’s ready to have some babies?” Dr. O asks with a bright smile.

You look up at Bucky, who can’t do anything but stare at you in awe, then nod. “We are.”

Twelve and a Half Hours Later

“I don’t think I could be any more in love with you.” Bucky declares as the nurses dance about the room, cleaning your crying babies up. “Shut up.” You murmur tiredly. “I wanna see my babies.” They’ve been checking and cleaning for what felt like forever.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.” The two nurses come over with little bundles in their arms. “You have two healthy babies, a boy and a girl.” You look up at Bucky with bright eyes as the nurse hands him the blue bundle.

Your eyes move away as the pink bundle is gently handed over to you. “Hello.” You whisper softly at the fidgeting baby. You can’t stop the tears from streaming down your cheeks as you down at your baby girl. Completely healthy and absolutely beautiful. “Eleanor Rebecca Barnes.” You murmur, running a gentle finger over her cheek.

“Pretty girl.” Bucky’s voice is wet and you look up to see tears on his cheeks too. You scoot over and make room for him to sit beside you again for the first time in hours. He sits as slowly as he can and then looks over at the baby in your arms as you glance at the baby in his. “Hello, Eleanor.” Bucky whispers to the little girl.

There’s a knock at the door that has the two of you snapping your heads up. You see the balloons first and then Steve and Sam behind them.

“Boys.” You whisper happily. Bucky nods them into the room. They come to stand in front of your bed as quietly as they can. “Meet Eleanor Rebecca Barnes and,” you and Bucky glance at each other with soft smiles, “and Steven Samuel Barnes.” He finishes for you.

Their eyes snap to you two in shock. “What?” Sam asks after a moment of silence. “You… You said you would never name a baby after me.” He’s getting choked up as he stares at Bucky in betrayal.

“Yeah, well.” Bucky shakes his head. “You’re uh… You’re one of my best friends.” He looks over at Steve. “You’re both some of my best friends. And uh… I wouldn’t.” He sniffles and you lean your head in his shoulder in an attempt to give him comfort.

He presses a kiss to your hair before he looks back at the boys. “I wouldn’t have all this if you two hadn’t stuck your necks out on the line for me. If you two hadn’t kept looking for me.”

“Buck, you built this life all on your own.” Steve says gently.

Bucky shakes his head fondly. “I know that, punk. I got the girl and the house and the babies all on my own. But I wouldn’t have even had the chance without you two so…” He trails off before looking back down at the babies you two held in your arms.

“Can I take a picture?” Sam asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You two nod excitedly and look up at the camera with tired but thrilled smiles. “Beautiful family, Buck. You two should be proud.”

“Oh, Steve, grab a nurse or someone in the hallway please!” You plead. “I want a picture of all of us!” He obliges without a fight. although you’re sure right now nobody would pick a fight or say no to you.

One of your nurses comes back in with him. “Okay! Just a couple pictures then I gotta kick you two out. Mama needs her rest.”

You all nod in acceptance as Steve and Sam come to stand on either side of you and Bucky. “One...Two...Three!” She snaps the picture and turns the phone around to show you.

Your heart all but jumps out of your chest at how sweet it looks. “I love it. Thank you.” She hands the phone back to Sam and ushers the two men out. Sam calling over his shoulder, “We’ll come back tomorrow!”

You and Bucky laugh. “My heart is so full right now.” You whisper.

“I love you, pretty girl.” Bucky whispers in response. “I love our family.” You can’t do anything but nod. “I love you too. I love our family.”

The two of you sit in silence as you bask in the glow of your family.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // i really enjoyed writing this. it’s so happy & made me so happy. thank you to the anon who requested it! i really hope you all enjoyed this because it’s probably one of my favorite pieces now.

if you did enjoy it, replies & reblogs are greatly appreciated 💞

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes onshot #bucky barnes one shot

762 notes · View notes

mywritingonlyfans · 3 years

Note

i like the idea of thomas for the dad/christmas fic 🥺

heeey!!! thanks for comment on it again!!! once again, i'm sorry for not writing that one with the person 'we' mentioned first😅 hope u like it!

-> dad!thomas raggi x reader

prompt: in which, dad!thomas is bit late for xmas to see his little girl! bonus. he teaching his little girl how to play the guitar!

warnings: none, just the good stuff today!! oh, we actually talk more about the 'finals' holiday than xmas itself on here so i hope it doesnt be too awkward for people who don't celebrate it.

-------------------++++----------------

You closed the fairytale book, putting it in its place on the shelf, and then tidied the blanket to cover Alice better. One of her arms was on her new guitar, which Santa Claus had left for her at Thomas's mother’s house; and by Santa you meant Thomas. She was so happy at the moment that you couldn't wait to show him the video.

Despise this, the smile on her face hadn't lasted long, you didn't know if everyone could see that she looked sad or if it was something maternal that warned you about it. She was asleep, and even though you could tell she was heartbroken, her long eyelashes rested under the freckles of her chubby face; appearing to be all agitated - she had not cried, but you knew she had held back her tears while you put her to sleep. You didn't blame her, you missed him, too.

You hugged your torso, wanting to stay there with her, you didn't feel like going to sleep knowing that he wasn’t home for Christmas. When you looked at her again, with her sad little face, you suddenly felt bad for not thinking about letting her sleep with you; since she liked it when you let her stay in Thomas’s side of the bed when he wasn’t around.

“I love you, angel,” you whispered, brushing her hair away from her face and placing a kiss on the prominent freckles on her nose. She mumbled something you couldn't understand, and smiling silly at your girl, you took her purrs as your cue to make your way to the kicthen.

You hummed one of Thomas’s band songs to yourself after you checked that there was no messages or new call on it. He promised he would at least contact you, and as long as you are together he never was one to broke his promises; so what you could do was wait.

It was the first Christmas after you had Alice that he hadn't been able to come back home on time. And as much as you told him that you understood and that everything would be fine, which was true, you couldn't deny how much you missed him.

You kept the leftovers Alice had begged her grandmother to give her on the frigde, remembering how she had planned on eating it with Thomas when he got home. Glad pleased, you could imagine how happy he’d be that she thought about doing it for him. Just when your mind was ready to get lost in a scenario where Thomas would be home for the Holidays, the vibrations of your phone interrupted you.

“Hey, babe. Merry Christmas!” You said excitedly. It was him, he wouln’t forget of you. It was late at night and you had no idea what time it was for him, but still he called.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” He said in a slurred, almost inaudible voice. He looked a bit sapped and busy.

“It's not a good time, right? I can call you later if you can’t speak right now or are feeling too tired,”

“Nah, it’s fine,” He assured, a bit breathless, getting clearer over the phone. “How was your day? How’s Alice? God, I missed you,”

“It was good,” you sighed, thinking about being cheeky and adding that it would have been better with him, yet you were afraid that it might make him feel worse. “Alice is fine too. She loved the guitar, you will love to see it. I filmed everything, she didn’t stop jumping with it in her arms, telling your parents how it was just like the one his dad have. She misses you so much, Thommy, and I think she’s learning how to deal with it.”

“She’s learning...” he repeated. “I wish she didn't need to learn to deal with me being away from her,”

“Don’t say that, I made a bad choice of words, you know she loves you and she loves even more the way you love her extra when you’re back. She understands, Thomas,”

“She’s 5 years old, Y/N,”

You let the silence fill the chasm between you. You felt how sad he was, he had been away for a long time because of the turns before, still he always managed to return for the special dates - just as he had promised when Alice was born - but this time, well, this time it wasn’t possible.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured and you visualized in your head his eyebrows furrowing as his hand ran agonizingly through his hair, just as he always do when he‘s feeling in low spirits. “You’re right. I should be focusing on the good things, soon I’ll be home, I’m gonna teach her to play the guitar, show her all my love and be the best dad in the world,”

You laughed at his abrupt change in mood mixed with a hint of himself. “I know you will, babe,”

“I’m gonna be the best boyfriend too,” he would give continuity to his words when a loud noise of something falling stopped him abruptly.

“What was it?” You asked. You made it clear that you were suspicious, and by his nervous laugh he knew that. After all, what would he say about the noise that seemed to have come from the room next to where you were? “Oh my god, Thomas, that can’t be you.”

He didn't even need to answer, the sound of your steps going on his way was enough for him to know that you knew he was there, making him curse himself for being so clumsy. And just like in a flash, you were in his arms. He dropped his bag on the floor, giving you al of his attention as he squeezed your shape to his body.

“You’re here,” you bured your face on his chest, letting the feeling of comfort fill your nostrils, and then soul. “You’re really here.” You added in a breathless sigh.

Relief taking over his body as you snuggled into his frame, he grinned, “I promised that I would try my best to be with you all the special dates, didn't I?” He asked, holding your face so he could look at you properly. ��Are you crying?”

You nodded at his soft voice. “I’m sorry,”

He laughed, a nasal sound that you missed so much. “It’s ok, 5 months is a long time,” He said, tracing kisses across your face. “I promise I’m gonna love you extra now.”

——————-

It was already possible to see the sun rissing outside, yet you refused to close your eyes and lose any moment with Thomas.

You rested your head on the pillow, waiting for him and thinking of how lucky you were that he managed to catch a last minute flight to spend the New Year at home. He was scheduled to return only after the first day of the year, somehow things would have worked out better than expected and he managed to get back sooner.

“She looks like an angel sleeping so calmly.” He spoke, lying beside you under the covers.

“I thought you were going to wake her up, she'll go crazy when she sees you.”

“I know,” He smiled, proud of himself. He knew she was the definition of daddy’s little girl. “I will wait until she wakes up. I'm dying to fill her with kisses and hugs.”

Still with his charming teeth and cute dimples on display, he pulled you to his chest, trying to wrap you in the blanket next to him. “She loves you. She doesn't care about the time you spend away, as long as you come back to her.” You nuzzled into his neck, squeezing him tighter as you said that. It was likely that this would happen more often, letting Thomas blame himself for that wouldn’t do him any good.

He bobbed, kissing your forehead, enlacing you with the same intensity. “I know, babe,”

“How was turn?” You asked, looking at him, making sure that he was fine. He was thoughtful, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

He told you about his gigs around the globe and you were happy feeling his body soften on your arms. His voice almost lulled you to sleep, but you were sure you would never tire of hearing him talk about what he loves. You showed him the video of Alice receiving the guitar, seeing his eyes fill with water after she said that she‘d be just like her father made your chest almost explode with love. In the best possible way, of course.

“You can sleep if you want, babe.”

“No, I want to spend more time with you.”

“I’m here, I am not intending to go anywhere.” He patted your hair, rubbing his nose through your hairline, and the last thing you remembered was feeling his lips on your temple.

When you opened your eyes again, he was no longer there. You rubbed your eyes tight, trying to adjust to the light, wondering if there was any possibility that it might have been a dream, but then a sweet chuckle brought you back to reality.

Alice was standing in front of you, with the guitar resting awkwardly on her shoulders. Her eyes went from you to Thomas, as if asking him if everything was all right. You smirked lightly at her features that looked the same as Thomas's.

She started playing something, which looked incredibly bad, Thomas wrinkled his nose in an attempt not to laugh so as not to discourage her. He should have spent a lot of time helping her, and she looked like she was trying. Her lips was between her teeth as she concentrated to play her less than a minute of song was so cute that as much as you didn't understand a thing, you couldn’t help but feel proud of her.

“It’s Vent'anni,” Thomas mouthed, waving his hand in a way that would get your attention but not hers. “It’s Vent'anni.”

“Oh my god!” You opened your arms for her as she finished playing, watching you with her excited eyes. “It’s Vent'anni.”

She grinned from ear to ear, handing Thomas the guitar, and then jumping into your arms.

“Did you like this?” She asked happily, making ‘this’ sound like ‘dis’. “It’s not perfect but I’ll get better, right dad?”

“Yes, better than Damiano trying to play It!" Thomas confirmed, stroking her back as he approached you. “Good mornin’, love.” he kissed the top of your head.

“I love you,” you kissed his cheek, wishing he could feel how much you love him. “And I love you too, little one,” you mumbled, pinching Alice’s nose, which eyes was stuck on the two of you.

She laughed, her gaze still on you and Thomas. She looked like a completely different person from the night before.

“Dad said you look cute when you're tired.”

You knew that you looked tired, the day before wasn’t the best and you had barely slept. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at Thomas who had a silly smile playing on his lips and felt your cheeks get hotter. The reason you still felt that way when he complimented you was a mystery, you liked it anyway.

“You are a gossip little thing,” Thomas joked, poking at her sides.

“No, I’m not.” She laughed, trying to run away from him flawlessly, letting him hug her as she recovered her breath.

“I love you too, both of you,” she pointed a finger at both of you. Thomas's smile was priceless, you could live in there forever. “but can we play more guitar now, please?”

You agreed and Thomas got up to sit upright, putting her between his legs. He looked at you, his face still radiant, you could easily imagine him talking about you with Alice - just like you did talk about him with her as well. He positioned her tiny hands on the guitar, guiding then with his own fingers. His gentle, patient voice teaching her things that both knew she would soon forget and he would have to repeat it all over again - and you knew Thomas would do it without a problem - was lovely to watch. Her head was resting on his chest and whenever she hit a note and heard Thomas praising her, she would turn to you and say "see mom, I did it.” And you swear that you couldn't be happier to have found the meaning of the word home in two of your favorite people in the world.

#maneskin #thomas raggi #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi imagines #fanfic #ethan torchio #imagines #fiction #maneskin x reader #måneskin #writing #damiano david #thomas gives me so much of the cuddler vibes just want to lay down and die in bed with him.

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hoodieofholland · 3 years

Note

hey love. I’m obsessed with mob!tom - could you write something where mob Tom and the reader have a really big fight and Tom says something that was really mean and reader storms out and doesn’t come back until late and night and Tom is super worried :) at the beginning angst and at the end fluff.

I actually asked other writers too to write this a while ago but nobody does it and I found your account now and I’m so in love with your writing you are super talented <3

Sorry if my English is not really good- it’s not my first language

A/n: dear anon, you were reading my mind! I was actually procrastinating with a draft of some angst with mob!tom for a while, and you just motivated me to write it again hahah im obsessed with mob!tom too btw, no shame on this lol. Thanks for requesting, hope you like it!

Masterlist Request/tell me your thoughts on this

Warnings bellow the cut!

Warnings: angst, language, mention of gun.

You throw your purse over the table as you storm inside the house, walking up to your room with a stern face, straightened back and confident steps, without saying a word. Tom watched you from behind, sighing as he knew what was about to come - you were pissed.

He followed you slowly, not wanting to hurry the fight that was about to come. He knew pretty well what he has done tonight, but wasn’t planning on apologize, as he was also sure he wasn’t wrong about it.

By the time he reached the main room, you were already in the closet, taking off your jewels and putting them inside their boxes. “Baby”, he called you, but you didn’t raise your head.

Your gesturing was obviously stating your humor - or the lack of it. You wasn’t being so careful with the expensive belongings, as you always made sure to be.

“Baby”, Tom tried again, sighing this time, “Can you at least tell me what the hell did I do?”

That was the breakpoint. You lifted your head to look at him sternly. “Seriously? You gonna really act like you don’t know?”

He snorts, running a hand through his brown curls. “I mean, I know. I just don’t get why you’re so upset about it”

You laugh humorless. “I’m upset ‘cause you fucking treated me like a doll, Tom. That’s why I’m upset about it!”

“What?”, he snapped, narrowing his eyes. “What the fuck, I just told that asshole of a waiter to get his shit together instead of eye-fucking you. For God’s sake, what’s wrong with that?”

"Well, maybe the fact that you made a scene in front of the manager because you were jealous?" You shout, shaking your hands. "Should I tell you the obvious fact that this man is probably fired now because of your speech?".

Tom was growing mad. He couldn't believe you were defending the guy who was flirting with you the whole dinner.

Turns out that what was supposed to be a calm and relaxing dinner quickly became something distasteful, as Tom took notice of the waiter that was serving your table that night looking at you with a dumb smile on his face the entire time. He could even see the guy talking to some other workers about you, staring at you like you were some kind of meal. So Tom did what he thought was right - he made it very clear that you were his girl and a employee shouldn't be looking at you like that.

"I don't give a single fuck if he's unemployed right now. He should take this as a lesson to not disrespect you or any other woman in his workplace", Tom said, undoing his tie and throwing it in anywhere in the wardrobe. He was tired and pissed with the whole situation - and, more important, with you, for making a big deal out of it.

"Disrespect me, or disrespect you, Tom?", you snap, eyes wide with anger. "Cause it didn't look like you were worried about me. Cause all I wanted was a peaceful dinner with my boyfriend, who actually never seems to be available to me, and you made it pretty hard for me to enjoy, just because you were mad for a guy possibly be flirting with your girl! Like I fucking belonged to you!"

"Oh, fuck off, y/n", he hissed, walking past the closet's door and going straight to the bathroom. "It's obvious I'd be pissed for the it too. You're my girl, and I don't think it's nice if other man look at you like that! Don't act like you've never done it too".

You followed him, yelling next. "Shit, you're unbelievable! What is it? Nobody can look at Tom Holland's girl? Because you're the great motherfucker mobster and I'm your fucking prize?"

Tom turned his body to glance at you again. He pointed a finger at you, eyes serious and penetrating. "I've never said it. That's not how I see this".

"Oh, really? So you care to explain me why do you keep doing that? We barely spend time together now, Tom, and when we finally get to have a nice night out, you make sure to state that I'm yours and that no other man can lay an eye on me", you sniff, unable to keep the cracked voice from coming out and show how upset you felt about it. "I don't like to feel that I'm waiting for you like a goddamn doll, Tom".

"Well, darling, I'm sorry if I'm not being enough, but that's how real world works", his voice is cold and he is avoiding looking into your eyes, his jaw clenched in a way that make it clear that he's not satisfied with the conversation's rumor. "I made it pretty clear when we first met that my job doesn't allow me to be here the entire time, so what the fuck do you expect me to do? Or do you think that this nice house and the maids, and all the fucking jewels I give you come for free? Tell me, y/n, what the hell you want from me?"

You watch his usually soft features whenever you were around turning into the one he used with his men. The veins in his neck visible, his pupils huge and thin lips trembling with anger. Tom has never spoken to you that way, and you could feel the pressure on your chest with the pain from his harsh words.

A couple of tears rolled down your cheeks and you were quick to rub them away with the back of your hand. Noticing the way you pressed your lips together lightly, Tom's face softened and he realized his posture and tone.

"I don't- I don't know, Tom", you say in a low, croaky voice. "Think I just wanted us to be a couple. I'm truly sorry if that's too much to ask you for".

His heart pained at your words and he took a few steps in your direction. "Darling, no, that's not what I-"

You stopped him, putting your arm in front of you and shaking your head. "No, that's exactly what you wanted to say. I don't know what I had in mind when we started dating, nor what I was thinking when I agreed to move in here, but I don't want to be between you and your job anymore".

He stared at you, unaware of what you were about to do, thinking about what to say. He didn't want to fight with you like that, but didn't want you to think that what you've said is true neither.

You walked past him and straight to the closet again, picking up your suitcase and grabbing a few clothes from the wardrobe. Tom watched you for a few seconds, startled, and then started to panic.

"What are you doing?"

You ignored him, trying to think what you'd possibly need to get to stay out tonight. You could get the rest of your things later, but right now you just wanted to get out of that house.

"Y/n, love, what are you doing?" He asked in desperation, reaching your arm and trying to pull you away from the wardrobe, but you just shrugged his touch off.

"What does it look like? I'm leaving, Tom! If you can't conciliate our relationship with your job, then I guess I have nothing to do here anymore". You say through gritted teeth.

"What?!" He breathed out. "Darling, you can't leave like-"

"Don't you fucking call me darling!"

Tom stops and stares at you, blinking. His mouth is agape, trying to get his thoughts together. You didn't stop packing, and when he saw the determination in your actions, he simply couldn't contain the anger growing on his chest.

"Know what? Go. Leave me! Get the fuck out of this house. I don't fucking care!" He yelled, and you jumped slightly at the sound of his guttural voice.

You wiped some of new tears and nodded once, not minding to get anything else as you closed your suitcase and walked out of the room, hands shaking from the emotions you were so hardly trying to refrain.

But before you could step out of the room and go down on the stairs, you turn around to see he stagnant at the same spot. "Fuck you, Tom. You can take all this damn jewelry. Take this, the clothes, and everything else you bought me. If I can't have you, these don't mean a single thing to me. I'm not a fucking doll, Tom".

You left, and he couldn't move for minutes straight.

*********

The night passed by and Tom didn't hear from you. He checked his phone more times than he liked to admit, but you didn't answer any calls, any messages. Nothing. He didn't even realize what time he fell asleep on the couch, waiting for some sort of sign from you, but in the morning, when he rolled out of it, his heart pounded in his chest at the realization that you were nowhere to be seen.

He asked Harrison, his best mate and the second person you most chatted with in the house, if he has seen you, but he didn't have anything. So Tom waited, trying to focus on his work for the morning and the evening, as he thought that maybe you just wanted some time to think clearer. He regretted saying those things to you already, knowing that none of that was true. Obviously he did care if you were there in the morning. He wanted to wake up with you by his side like every other day. It was all that mattered for him after all. Not the money, not the jewel, not the house. It all didn't make sense when you weren't there.

And he felt so sick thinking that you truly believed he was seeing you as a prize, as a doll that would stand beautifully waiting for him at the end of the day. He knew he should have persisted and said that you weren't right, that he loved you so much that he could take a bullet for you, right on his chest. He'd do anything for you, but didn't seem to know how to put that in words when it comes to a fight.

"Fuck!" He shouted when alone in his office, hands collapsing on the desk. It was past seven at night and he hadn't heard from you. A whole fucking day. He asked Harrison to send the men to look for you. He wouldn't force you coming back home, but he needed to be sure you were alright.

All the bad thoughts he could have were now successfully running through his mind and driving him nuts. He thought that maybe some rival mobster could have laid eyes on you, all by yourself, and tried to do something. You could be in serious danger right now, and Tom wouldn't forgive himself if that was the case.

He took a drink. He needed to clear his mind as time was passing by and his men didn't have any information about you. Your phone would be filled with unanswered calls from him, even voicemail telling you he was sorry and would do anything if you only called him back to say you were doing fine.

"Please, love, if you're listening to it... fuck, I'm so fucking sorry. I never intended to hurt you. I'm a dumbass, and you don't have to forgive me, but, please, just let me know you're fine and I'll give you your time. Just- please. I need to hear from you, y/n", he recorded, a drink on his hand and the other holding his phone firmly.

When it was 9pm, he decided he was going out to look for you himself. He just couldn't sit there waiting for a call or for his men do to something - he needed to take that pressure of his chest and no one was helping.

He took his gun, called Harrison and a few more man before heading to the living room.

"Alright, we have a few more places left" Tom started his instructions, while shoving his gun at the back of his trousers. "Harrison and I are going to her family's house. You two check in her old friend's place. Doesn't matter how far it is, I don't want you two to come back until you've looked through that fucking town-"

"Tom", Harrison cut him off, coughing a bit to get his attention. He was about to snap at him, when he followed his gaze.

And there you were, standing at the door frame in the living room, a confused expression on your face as you tried to understand what was going on in the middle of the room. Usually, Tom never had meetings in any other area than the conference room.

"What's going on?", you asked bluntly, and Tom releases a deep and relieved breath, so audible that you couldn't not take notice of.

"God, you're here", he breathed out, walking towards you in large steps. You were still mad, but also so confused with his reaction that you couldn't stop him from holding you tightly in his arms. "Fuck, darling, where were you?".

Besides his words being a bit harsh, his voice was soft and caring, worried if anything. He didn't let go of you first, kissing the top of your head for a long minute.

Harrison smiled a little seeing the both of you and dismissed the men out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

"Sorry, you don't need to explain", Tom shook his head and pulled away to look at you. His eyes were bloodshot and tired, a dark circle around it. He brushed your cheeks with the pad of his thumb and furrowed. "Are you okay, though?"

"Yeah, I am- but what was going on?", you insisted.

Tom cupped your face on his hands, still not believing that you were there again. "I was so fucking worried. I thought that something was off, you didn't answer any of my messages or calls... I was heading to a drive with my men to look for you".

You blink a few times, startled that Tom was so concerned all this time.

"I was in a hotel room, actually", you chew in your lower lip, kind of ashamed that you put him through such a concern. "Needed to be alone for a time, so I turned my phone off".

Tom pressed his forehead against yours. "It doesn't matter anymore, darling. It was all my fault", his voice was croaky and you felt your heart pounding inside your chest. "I should never have said those things to you-"

"It's alright, Tom-"

"No, it's not", he shook his head. "Cause it was all lies. I do fucking care if you leave me. I wouldn't stand being away from you, my love. You're everything, everything. And you're right, I don't spend much time with you, and it eats me alive, cause that's what makes me happy, being around you. All I ever wanted was to make you happy, sweetheart. I'm so fucking sorry if I haven't shown you how much you mean to me..."

"Shhh, Tom", you closed your eyes, hugging him by the neck and bringing him closer. "It's okay, I know it. I wasn't thinking straight too, I know you don't treat me like that. I was just too pissed, and yeah, I'd like to spend more time together, but it's alright that you don't-"

He cut you by a sweet kiss pressed on your lips, "Nothing is more important for me than you. I was too mad with that thing in the restaurant to say it right away, but I'll try harder. I'm gonna be here with you, no matter what. Work can wait".

You sigh and pull him closer, breathing his comforting scent.

"My lovely girl", Tom sighs and smile a bit. "You scared the hell out of me".

"You deserved it, idiot" you said and he laughed quietly.

"I love you, darling", he stroked your back, hiding his face in the crock of your neck. "Always".

"Love you too, Tommy".

You spent the rest of the night together, having a nice and cozy dinner at home. Tom never smiled wider than that night, and the following others were fulfilled with his promise - there was always time in your day to spend alone with your boyfriend.

*******

Taglist:

@dreamy-clousds

@pinkrockstar19

@onyourgoddamnleft

@spideyspeaches

@miraclesoflove

@hollands-taste

@zspideyy

#tom holland #tom holland blurbs #tom holland imagines #tom holland fic #mob!tom #mob!tom x reader #Tom angst #tom x reader #request #anon

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starconsumer444 · 3 years

Note

Just found you and already smitten with your dark content. Could you maybe write either Kuroo/Suna/Tendou/Bokuto (whichever u choose) brother or stepbrother catching sister/stepsister trying to masturbate but not knowing how so they edge her relentlessly until she agrees to let him have sex with her because he's tricked her thats the only way she can really cum the first-time? Finishing with a nice cream pie?

Older Brother!Suna (18+)

A/N:Thank you thank youuu~ I’m sorry I didn’t go with the “relentless” edging, I just did it one time because it was getting long and I have a sick and twisted sadomasochistic habit of writing from the late hours of the night until the early hours of the morning and getting dead tired half way through. I’m not sure if that was all that great in comparison to my other works, but I really hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

(CW/TW: Incest, Virginity [Suna makes it hurt too, but there is an orgasm <3], Coercion, Dubcon, Edging??? Or just flat-out orgasm denial...,Age gap??? [Reader is 18, Suna is 25] Fingering, Creampie, Absolutely Clueless reader..., Masturbation, Suna is an asshole in this one, Deception, Manipulation and PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING!!!!)

Unfortunately for you, university wasn't all that it was talked up to be in terms of sex and anything else really. You went into your first year thinking you were gonna lose your virginity, make new friends, go to frat parties, and just have all-around wild experiences. Suna, when he was in school, would always come back with cool stories to tell you, and had a new girlfriend every break he got. To have cool experiences like your big brother was the only reason you wanted to go, but unfortunately for you, it was none of that. Maybe it’s because you’re not an athlete like him, but it was studies, a newfound coffee addiction, and a roommate that never seemed to go anywhere. All that on top of your dead social life, absolutely miserable..

When Suna came to pick you up from the airport so you two could spend the holidays with your parents (a tradition no matter how old either of you get), you told him all about it. Sure, you didn’t grow up particularly close with him being seven years older and all, but he was still your older brother and no topic seemed to be off limits with him, so it was nice. He wasn’t the most doting older sibling and definitely not the most talkative either, but he was good for listening. Really, listening was his strong suit.

You told him about your lackluster social life and your mountains of schoolwork, but, even knowing he wouldn’t mind, you didn’t tell him about the sex stuff. Why would you? He’s your older brother. He shouldn’t know things like that about you.

Needless to say, you go home for winter break a sexually frustrated virgin. Maybe, if you had tried a little harder with the people at school it wouldn’t have come to this?

The house had been dead silent when you decided to, for the first time, attempt to masturbate. You were sure no one was home, not your mom, not your dad, and not your older brother, Suna. Still, you could’ve at least checked before you completely stripped your lower half.

It wasn’t going well, you had two fingers inside yourself and you didn’t feel anything. You felt like a doctor doing a self-probe at best. It just felt... wrong? But this is how the girls in porn do it, right? There’s no way you’re getting this wrong. You’re doing exactly what you see; moving your fingers in and out, even curling them a bit… What could you possibly be doing wrong?

Suna watches you silently from your slightly cracked door.

Pitiful, he thinks.

He was just coming by to ask if you wanted anything from the store because he was headed out. He didn’t expect to see his little sister struggling with her fingers in her cunt. He can postpone that walk to the corner-store to bond with his little sister.

He doesn’t even bother knocking to spare you the humiliation, just pushes the door open and lets himself right in.

You notice him immediately and let out a loud scream, closing your legs and trying to hide yourself by turning away from him. You want to disintegrate. Your body is burning up with embarrassment.

What does he want? Why now?

You feel his weight make your childhood bed dip and you can feel the warmth radiating off his body. One of his calloused hands caresses your thigh and you don’t move away from it the way you know you’re supposed to. You’re frozen.

What is he doing?

“Suna, get out!” You turn to look at him and grab his wrist to stop him in his tracks. Can’t he take a hint? “What are you-”

“You’re not doing it right.” He pipes up. In the back of his mind he knows this is wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this with his baby sister.

“Huh?” You’re clearly lost.

“I’ve done this before, let me help you.”

It takes nothing for him to separate your legs and settle himself in between them.

“You’re still a virgin?” His fingers slide gently up and down the wetness between your folds and it draws a sharp whimper and a harsh nod from you.

Suna is twenty-five and has enough sense about himself to know this is wrong. He’s not going to try to rationalize it. He’s just taking a golden opportunity even if that opportunity is his little sister. He has a knack for corrupting innocent girls like you; it’s fun for him even if it’s sick and perverted.

The dirty feeling you get having your brother touching and eyeing your most intimate parts is intense. You want him to keep going, but you know you should tell him to stop.

“Suna, this isn't okay.”

He shushes you but nods his head.

“I’m just helping you.” He says matter-of-factly. “It’s not like you can make yourself cum. Let your big brother help you, okay?” He insists and pushes two fingers inside your hole.

You scoot back out of shock and let out a surprised yelp, “O-okay,”

If he hears the nerves in your voice, he doesn’t do anything to acknowledge it. All he does is scoot closer and offer a gentle smile, the same brotherly one he gave you when he left for college and you cried wanting him to stay. That smile.

It feels so different when he fingers you. He’s not being as rough as you were and he’s definitely more practiced; you’re sure there’s tons of girls he’s done this too. It feels good, especially with him rubbing pleasant circles into your clit. You shouldn’t like this as much as you do.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm,”

He starts to speed up, and you clap your hand over your mouth to stop the moans from being too loud in case you two weren’t the only ones home. His fingers are like magic and you don’t know how to react.

With the stimulation to your clit and his fingers inside you, above cloud nine is where you are. You’ve never felt like this, and there’s a tinge of guilt about it being with your brother but this is too good.

As cute as you look with your heaving chest and your eye’s starting to unfocus, he knows he’s not done with you. When he feels you start to spasm around his fingers he pulls them out, because this may be his only chance to use you, his little sister.

He brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean like the perv he knows he is. It leaves you staring with your mouth hanging open, clearly searching for the words.

“What?” He asks, feigned puzzledness all over his expression. “You taste good.” He chuckles inwardly, you cringe internally. That’s not what you were going to ask, though.

“No…” You can’t look at him, so you look down and play with the sheets on your bed.

“Come on, what is it?”

“I think I was going to cum… and you-”

“That’s dumb, you can’t cum from being fingered.” There’s a seriousness in his tone, you take it as fact; he knows he’s lying.

“But the girls in porn-”

“It’s porn, it’s not realistic.”

You’ve heard that before. You guess it’s true, especially if Suna says it. It must be.

Thank god for shitty sex ed, he muses internally because without it, this wouldn’t be possible.

“Do you wanna cum?” He asks curiously.

All you offer in response is a meek nod. You’re not actually certain on going through with your brother making you cum, but if it’s anything like the way he made you feel just now… maybe, it’s not so bad.

He tells you to lay down, and you do so without hesitation. With your legs splayed open over his thighs, it feels grosser knowing your brother has an even clearer view of you. You wish you had the self control to just say no and end this.

He pulls his sweats and underwear down; if your heartbeat wasn’t going crazy before it definitely is now. His dick is thick and long. He’s rock hard, his tip is pinker than the rest of it, and there’s clear stuff leaking out. It looks like it’s going to hurt, even looks like it’s hurting him right now.

“Suna, wait is this-” You don’t know how to finish. “I’m a virgin.”

“I know, you told me already.” He’s not really paying attention to you. He spits on his hand and rubs it all up and down his length. It’ll hardly help more than the fingering, but it’s a kindness he’s willing to give his little sister. “Just… relax. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He says as he leans over you, guiding his length to your entrance.

Immediately you clench and shut him out.

“I-I’m sorry I just-”

“It’s fine, just relax like I said.”

You do, and he starts to push in. It burns. Stings? Something like a mix of those two.

Even if there was lube for you to use, Suna wouldn’t have offered. He likes the way his baby sisters' face contorts in pain and confusion. You look cute losing your virginity to your big brother.

“AH-” It’s a sharp, pained exclamation coming from you as your hand pushes at his chest. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders now and he’s impaling you slowly inch by agonizing inch. You can feel him stretch you, but you don’t want him to stop, you’ve waited so long for this.

One of his hands rests on your lower stomach and you beg him to do anything to make you feel better when he’s all the way in. He rubs at your clit and leans over to kiss you like you’re his girlfriend.

Without warning he starts to move. It’s nothing but shallow and slow thrusts that have you feeling every inch of him. If it’ll make you cum, you can handle it. All you want is to cum. Combined with his fingers working on your clit, you’re sure you will, right?

Your moans are soft, even if it doesn’t feel that great. The girls in porn moan all the time, it’s the right thing to do.

When he feels like he’s been kind enough, he starts to move faster. You start to get used to it and your legs start to shake from the combined stimulation and strain from being bent at such an angle.

It’s like magic. Your orgasm washes over you,your eyes roll into the back of your head, your body shakes and your back arches off your soiled sheets.

Shock is plastered on Sunas typically inexpressive face. He didn’t expect you to actually...

His little sister is so sensitive. Most girls wouldn’t climax like that their first time. There’s an unspoken sense of pride in this for him. Still, he’s not stopping until he cums too.

You’re whining and squirming up under him, pushing at his hips and moving his hand away from your clit like him continuing is killing you after you’ve worked through your first orgasm. He assures you that’s how it’s supposed to feel and you’re supposed to wait until he cums too.

Once more, you’re laying there in discomfort and he’s getting off to it. Suna knows he’s wrong for it but he just can’t bring himself to care. Not when he’s so close. He especially doesn’t care when he sees your horrified expression as you feel him paint your walls with his warm cum. He’ll make sure you don’t get pregnant later, but for right now he wants to savor this moment.

#suna smut #suna rintaro scenarios #suna x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #suna drabble #suna imagines #suna scenarios #this is me trying my hand at consistency!!!#tw: dubcon

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beauty-and-passion · 3 years

Text

Headcanon: the mind’s structure and the concept of a Side’s “room”

Hi.

This post is entirely based one the last asks I got, in which dear sweet anon asked me: "How do you think the rooms of the other sides will look like?"

And so here I am, talking about my own headcanons. Was the ask just an excuse to write this post? Yes.

Of course I don’t pretend to talk about possible canonical rooms Thomas can make in real life (I already wrote a post about that). This one is entirely based on the ideas I’m developing through my fanfictions.

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The mind’s structure

One of the most famous images associated with the mind and how it’s structured is the iceberg one.

For the people who have never seen it, here’s a sample image:

As you can see, it’s theorized the mind can be roughly divided into three parts:

Conscious mind, which includes all of the things that you’re actively aware of: thoughts, perceptions of the world, etc.

Subconscious/preconscious mind, which includes all of the things that you could potentially pull into conscious awareness. It’s a sort of “filter”, that controls what is allowed to be part of the conscious.

Unconscious mind, which includes everything that is outside of our conscious awareness: hidden feelings, thoughts, urges, all that’s unacceptable and/or unpleasant.

Having said that, I think you already have an idea about where some rooms might be located.

But that’s not all. This is the overall structure of the mind. The mind itself is made of a series of layers: the higher ones are part of the conscious mind, the central ones are part of the subconscious and the lower ones are part of the unconscious.

The proportions are the same as the iceberg image: few planes on top, a whole lot of planes at the bottom.

This is the only image I found that was close enough to how I imagine the planes are. Every plane has its own ecosystem: it can be a forest, a wheatfield, a beach, an island in the middle of an ocean, Thomas’ neighborhood, his house. The more Thomas grows, the more planes appear in his mind and their borders aren’t always the same: some planes might seem endlessly big, others as small as a single house.

And of course the planes aren’t flat surfaces either: they’re three-dimensional and you can move inside them, just like you can move in our world.

But if a Side wants to move from one plane to a lower one, then they sink. While when they move from a lower plane to a higher one, they rise up.

Yes, it’s a reference from Nostalgia part 2:

[Virgil]: -pops up in the same way as the others- Whoa. That was new for me. I've never done that whole... rising up thing. How do you guys do that every episode? I'm so lightheaded.

And what do you do when you rise up a lot? You end up on the reality plane. Where Thomas is, were we all live. And where Sides appears, when Thomas calls for them.

Okay, everything good?

Very nice. Now you know more than the actual Sides.

The Sides themselves doesn’t know how the mind is structured. They know there are different places and some are a bit lower than others (because they sink a lot, before reaching them), but they have no idea these places are divided into planes and they have no idea how many planes are actually in the mind. They don’t even know where exactly are their own rooms, just that some are “higher” and "lower” than others. And why should they know? They don’t need this information, to better do their job.

There’s only one Side who perfectly knows how many levels are in the mind - and yes, he needs to know for his job - and this Side is Janus.

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The rooms

A room is just one of the mind’s many layers that one Side chooses as his own.

This choice isn’t casual: the planes appear within the mind, the same mind who created the Sides. So, among a lot of other planes, there’s also one specifically made for each Side.

The room is the only place where a Side has full control over everything. While the other planes are always the same and can’t be changed by no one (except for the two Creativities, whose power “leaks” into the levels above and below their own room), a room allows full creative control to their owner. A Side can change the place, shrink it, expand it.

And this explains why Patton’s room looks like Thomas’ house: because he actively chose to make his own room look like a place dear to Thomas, associated with memories and childhood.

This also explains why Virgil chose to make his room look like Thomas’ as well: he’s Anxiety, he fears changes. The bubble is secure, the bubble is everything. And Thomas’ own house is the perfect bubble to keep his anxiety at bay.

So, let’s see each room a bit closer:

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1. Logan’s room: tip of the iceberg

Logan’s room is almost at the top of the mind, the closer to reality. Again, for obvious reasons: logic is the most conscious, rational part of the mind, the less influenced by the subconscious and the unconscious.

Since I’m a sucker for the contrast between logic and powerful nature, Logan’s room is a lighthouse that stands on rocks and is surrounded by the ocean. On top of the lighthouse there’s a cozy, circular living room surrounded by glass windows. There are nice couches, tables, soft rugs and globes of yellow, warm lights all around. No need for a bookcase: the book Logan wants to read is just on the table. He needs a computer? Here it is, it just appeared on the table.

When everything is fine, the ocean is calm and peaceful, day and night alternate as always, the sky is clear and, while the outside reminds of a fresh, summer morning, the living room looks more like a warm, soft winter home.

When Logan isn’t fine, everything changes. The storm takes control of the whole room: the waves crash against the lighthouse, there are thunders and lightning. There’s no more day/night cycle, the storm can go on for days. It’s impossible to stay outside. Inside, everything turns dark.

The place doesn’t welcome you anymore, even if its owner would never send you away. But, if you’re clever, it’s better to leave.

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2. Roman’s room: blooming creativity

Considering Roman is a more controlled Creativity compared to Remus, his room is located way higher than expected from a creative force like him.

Roman’s room is a realm made of ideas. But, like, literally. Everything is made of ideas. And the stronger the idea is, the most real the thing looks like.

For example: if Roman wants to make a fruit tree, the clearer and more vivid his idea of said tree is, the better the tree will be: it will have knots in the wood, ants walking on its branches, flowers will bloom and their petals will fall to let the fruit grow.

And this applies to EVERYTHING. Trees, houses, rivers, hills, mountains, clouds, sun and moon, the day/night cycle, every atmospheric phenomenon and every single grass blade.

Roman’s room is endless. He walks inside it, but he has never seen the end. When he needs a place to stay, a new house appears. When he’s tired, the sun goes down.

His own creativity stems and takes the shape of trees, flowers, fruits. So when Roman eats a fruit, a new idea is born in his mind. When a gust of wind hits him, a new idea appears. And while he walks, he keeps developing the idea, adding details and information he literally takes by the wind, the grass and everything his room has to offer.

In other words: his room is a stream of ideas that constantly changes, while still keeping the same aspect. His room is always different, because he always walks, but it still looks like a natural landscape. There is continuity with how it looked like the day before.

Unlike Remus’ room.

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3. Patton’s room: first of the subconscious

I wasn’t so sure where to put Patton, then I found out memories are located in the subconscious part of the mind and, well, it made a lot of sense.

Patton is Thomas’ emotions, memories, and morality. This last aspect is very close to the conscious mind, sure, but emotions and memories are both part of the subconscious. And, since I think Patton’s first job was related to Thomas’ emotions, his room could very well be located in the high levels of the subconscious.

Patton’s room takes the appearance of Thomas’ house. Sometimes it’s his own house, sometimes it’s his childhood house. And we saw how it was inside: filled with memories, glittering aura and so on.

This is where Patton sleeps and rests, but that’s not the only place he visits. Patton frequently explores other planes of the subconscious and the conscious.

Why? He’s not sure either. He just wants to do it. He doesn’t know, but he’s acting as a sub-controller of the mind, by double checking everything that goes from unconscious to conscious and vice versa.

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4. Janus’ room: an always shifting vault

Janus knows how many levels are in the mind, their position, what they have inside and, in general, everything that happens in every level - he needs to check every information that goes from unconscious to conscious, after all.

But he doesn’t know where his room actually is. Because his room is the only one that shifts.

Its general location is the low-subconscious, but Janus’ room can actually be anywhere he needs it most - and yes, this is useful for his job: if he needs to move from his room to the low unconscious, he can’t waste time sinking like all other Sides: his room shifts and, with one small sink, he’s already where he has to be.

This also makes it incredibly difficult for other Sides to actually find his room and visit him. But that’s also good, because other Sides can’t spend too much time in his room anyway.

Why? Security reasons.

Let’s take a step back. Janus is self-preservation. In other words: that force that keeps you alive and protects you, both mentally and physically.

This implies the mind itself isn’t a safe place either - after all, the unconscious is where everything dangerous is stored. And, since Janus is the one who has to keep what Thomas doesn’t like/wants to know at bay, that means he’s the first controller of the unconscious (hence the two titles of guardian and gatekeeper) and of the exchange of information that exists among all levels.

In addition to that, there’s the pull of the unconscious. Because we all experience it, once in a lifetime. We are all attracted by what we deeply hide into ourselves - something we’re not conscious of, thoughts we might think we do not have at all. We never truly fall down this spiral (that would lead to dementia, delirium and so on), because our own mind pushes us back, bringing us back to reason.

For Thomas, this force that opposes the pull of the unconscious and brings you back to reason is Janus. And, as you can figure out, it’s an incredibly powerful force. A force that never sleeps, is never tired, always vigilant, always aware.

So, what happens when Janus needs to rest? He can’t do it anywhere, because a weak self-preservation is all the unconscious needs in order to take control.

This is where his room comes into play. His room is the only place where Janus can actually rest and allow himself to be weak. His room is like a vault, secured from the mind’s influence and from anything else.

Also, since he has full control over it, he can decide when he needs to disappear. A Side is looking for him but he needs more time to rest? His room shifts multiple times, so no one can find him. He’s fine? He let the other Side find him on the first try.

Still, other Sides can’t spend more than 5 minutes into his room. His room shifts and is more secure than any other, sure, but it’s also connected to everything. Even if he’s in his room, Janus still knows what happens everywhere. And a Side who’s not self-preservation might break for the amount of information that “oozes” from the room itself.

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5. Virgil’s room: a peaceful place in the middle of the unconscious

Just like Patton, Virgil chooses his room to look like Thomas’ house and, in general, all places Thomas feels more at ease.

However, it’s still a room located in the unconscious - and this is a very dangerous place, especially for Sides who live in the conscious/high subconscious. And it’s also Anxiety’s room, so the room itself is full of the influence of its owner.

Hence why, after a while, all Core Sides started to feel the influence of Virgil’s place during AA-part 2.

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6. Remus’ room: bursting creativity

Remus’ room is ever changing: Remus wants a field? There’s a field. He wants an ocean? Here’s the ocean. He wants to live inside a whale? The room is now a whale.

Just like Roman’s room, everything is made of his own creativity. But, unlike Roman’s room, who solidifies his creative power into a constant, coherent landscape, Remus’ landscape always changes, glitches, switches. The room is never the same, there’s no day/night cycle, nor coherent phenomenon: It could snow with 30 °C, it could rain with no clouds. Remus’ creative potential is so strong, it actually ends up influencing the planes above and below his own - just like Roman does up in the consciousness.

And here’s the most important thing: Remus’ room has direct contact with Roman’s. Despite being separated by a huge number of layers and with the subconscious acting as a barrier between them, their rooms are able to communicate. Remus can “plant” his ideas in his room and, like roots, these ideas are able to reach Roman’s room and bloom directly inside it, without touching any other layer in the middle.

That explains why Remus’ influence is able to reach Roman and how Remus’ idea can be literally picked by Roman, “ate” and processed.

__________________

The lowest level

What’s at the bottom of the mind? No one knows. No one could reach the bottom. The only one who can go deep down without going insane or losing himself is Janus, but even self-preservation isn’t able to see what the mind hides at the bottom of itself.

The lowest place Janus can reach is where there are what I called “The Faint Ones”.

The Faint Ones aren’t a Side, nor multiple Sides. They’re an indistinct agglomeration of ideas, concepts and things that will never become Sides. All the Faint Ones want is to surge to the top and take control. But, since the mind is the one in charge, all it does is pushing these forces deep down.

However, the Faint Ones can still call, ask and pray to be freed and their calls can lure the Sides down, just like marine predators do.

The Sides from the unconscious can hear these calls but, since they live in the unconscious, over time they developed some resistance. Still, they can’t venture too deep into the mind (and, with a guardian like Janus, they do not). Remus can hear the calls, but they’re more like a background noise. Virgil just hears faint voices.

On the other hand, Patton, Roman and Logan can’t hear anything from the conscious and subconscious. But if they go too deep into the mind, they start hearing the calls and they are way more hypnotic for them. (That’s also why Janus knows everything that happens inside the mind: to be sure no one goes below a certain point)

Speaking of Janus, of course he’s able to hear the voices and the more he goes down, the more he can recognize their words. Still, the Faint Ones’ calls do not act as a lure for him, no matter how down he can go. He can even face them and still be in complete control.

Because yes, he’s the only one who has ever seen the Faint Ones and knows what they look like.

_______________________________

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#sanders sides #analysis #Headcanon #my fanfiction #thomas sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides theory #it's so satisfying to put everything down #but it also required a lot more words #it was shorter in my mind

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