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mangosrar · 4 months

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i haven’t heard from you since.

chris sturniolo x fem reader.

idk if i specified but they’re in a relationship and have been for like 3 years!!

also hey y’all i disappeared for a while but i’m back 😛and i’m currently trying to get through the requests so be ready 😈love y’all. bee ❤️‍🩹

how had it become like this? it seemed so unbelievable that there was a point in yoir life where you thought you were going to marry him, have children, and grow old together. if someone would have told you three years ago that you would both end up like this you would have laughed in their face. he used to be so sweet, so passionate about you, but now that couldnt be further from the truth.

you werent really sure when the change happened, or why it happened maybe a little after your birthday, maybe before. of course you knew people grow apart but this wasnt growth. this was borderline misery. the constant fighting, the days of ignoring one another, the nights where chris would come home at 2am and not say a word to you after you had been waiting up for him, it was nothing short of torture.

but still every single time, both of you just let it blow over, waiting until the next bomb went off, but the long lasting was lasting a little too long.

"oh please, like you were actually worries" he scoffed, taking his hat off and throwing it on the kitchen table.

"you stormed out on me, you didnt even tell me where you were, youve been gone for 5 hours and you stroll in at almost 3am expecting me to be cool about it? what fucking planet are you living on" you said staring at him.

he didnt even reply he just shook his head, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, keeping his eyes trained to the floor. a moment of silence passed as you waited for him to say something, anything, and finally he took a deep breath in and pulled his eyes up to meet yours.

"maybe i just dont wanna fucking be around you" his voice was quiet and soft, a stark contrast to the sharpness of his words. his expression was stoic and completely unreadable.

he watched the colour drain from your face, as he did every time he would bark an insult at you. a small part of him felt nothing but pure joy to know that he had the power to completely crush you, like when murderers say they feel no remorse for the people theyve killed, but another small part of him was bleeding, a self-inflicted stinging, like a pain he had never felt before.

"you know what chris, day by day i realize everything i miss about you was never there in the first place, the person i fell in love with was a fucking mirage." your words were dripping with venom. his face faltered for a second, momentarily letting the mask slip, and the pain your words were causing him beginning to slip out.

"you dont mean that" he looked like he was about to burst into tears, and it made your mouth run dry.

you tried so hard to keep it together, but the tears that had gathered in your waterline threatened to spill with every single Shakey breath you took. there was a pregnant pause and the effect of your words hung in the air. chris stared at you intensely and you let your eyes rest anywhere but on him, you couldnt look at him, at the chance of seeing him with watery eyes and a wobbly lip might make you fall at his feet once more.

you took a deep breath before eventually meeting his gaze and beginning to talk.

"i dont know why things changed chris.... but one day i woke up and we no longer spoke the same language, and i havent heard from you since" chris watched every time as he crushed you, but now as he took your place, standing there with his hands by his sides, mouth hanging open, taking rapid breaths, in and out, while trying not to cry, he felt as though you had murdered him.

"that doesnt mean i dont love you y/n, we can work through this, weve done it before, ill be better i promise i will" he spoke with a wobbly voice.

the tears were now full force streaming down your face. he stood there across the kitchen with wide eyes, trying to think of how to come back from this, but there was something about the way you opened your mouth to speak again, that told him there wasnt.

"i cant relax around you chris, if i relaxed my body now, id fall apart. if i relaxed for a fucking second, id never find my way back. why cant you see that?" you paused for a moment and shook your head at him in disbelief. "why cant you see that you are tearing me limb for limb when i have done nothing but love you? why cant you understand that i have poured all of my heart and soul onto you to try and wash away whatever it is thats made you like this and you are throwing it back in my face? i mean when will this fucking end?" you were yelling and you hadnt even realized you had made your way over to him and were now standing less than a foot away.

"y/n please, dont do this. ill get my shit together and ill be better because i love you" he looked at you with pleading eyes as he spoke, reaching out to grab your hand, but when you pulled away before he even got the chance to even feel your skin on his, it was like he had died right there in that second.

"do you?" you whispered, swallowing thickly, desperately trying to stop the floodgates from opening more.

chriss face was wet with tears as he stared down at you sniffling. he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. he was completely gob smacked. he never thought it would get to this point. but as your eyes bored into his, wordlessly begging him to say something that would fix this, he felt as though the earth was crumbling beneath his feet.

his silence gave you all the answers that you needed, so with that you turned around and walked away, and the sound of his broken voice calling your name, spoke volumes.

he knew it was over, he knew that you were about to go upstairs and pack your bags and walk out the door, but he didnt do a thing to try and stop you, he knew he wouldnt be able to fix this even if he tried, so he watched you walk away, and the second you were out of sight, he fell to his knees, clutching his chest like he was dying and letting out sob after sob, like it would mend all damage he had done.

in the next room, you were frantically trying to keep your self control. the urge to walk back in there and wipe his tear-stained cheeks and kiss his broken heart better was paralyzing. the sound of him wailing and weeping was soul crushing, but this had to be done, one of you had to be strong enough to walk away.

you knew he would leave such an imprint on you, he had left such severe claw marks that anyone you even entertained after chris, would have to know him in order to understand you, and that might have been the worst fucking part.

—————————————-—————————————

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @chrisenthusiast @soursturniolo @kitaysworld @kvtie444 @mattslolita @flowerxbunnie @lovingsturniolo @its-jennarose @ermdontmindthisaccount @secret-sturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @justaslvttygirl @urfavstromboli @recklesssturniolo @delimeats-000 @nickdevora @gwenlore @sturnioloenthusiast

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gabessquishytum · 10 months

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Not the same anon, but I really enjoyed their silly angst for the War Prize AU and wanted to add a variation:

Hob knows he's pregnant. Dream doesn’t. All Dream knows is that his beloved has been ill recently. And he's already fully panicking, bringing in the best doctors in the realm, three-quarters convinced that the love of his life is dying.

Maybe Hob hasn't told him, for angst (he's like. 91% sure what's actually going on, but he's not fully certain. Maybe he thought it was impossible for him to get pregnant- he'd been through a lot before Dream. But he's terrified that he'll convince Dream it's alright, nothing's wrong with him, this is a Great Thing, actually, and then it'll turn out he was wrong and Dream will just break). Maybe (for comedy) he has, but it turns out that the euphemisms for pregnancy they use in Hob's old kingdom just. Do not translate. And even though Hob is trying his best to explain it is not getting through.

So it makes matters that much worse when Dream gets called away (and whatever's happening it's BAD, bad enough to pull him away from Hob's side, where he's been incessantly hovering) and Hob gets kidnapped.

Dream is terrified- his love was already ill, maybe dying, and now he's been kidnapped? It would be so easy for Dream to lose him.

Dream is ready to burn the world to the ground to get him back.

(Several doctors, who had very bad timing and figured it out/officially told Hob while Dream was away, are nervously looking at each other like '... do we tell him? that'll just make it worse, right?')

Before they can decide, good news! Hob escaped, he's ok! Gets back to the palace before Dream does and everything.

Dream drops everything to go to him, obviously. And he's so happy and relieved, he goes to throw himself at Hob for a bone-cracking reunion hug, but Hob holds up a hand between them, awkwardly. A thousand possible explanations fly through Dream's mind, each worse than the last, before Hob says, "Just be careful."

So they get a very soft, tender reunion, and Dream is being so cautious, afraid Hob is injured or his illness has gotten worse. At first Dream is wholly caught up in relief, and kissing Hob, reveling in the fact that he's safe, he's here. But eventually the worry starts to weigh on him again, and Hob notices.

So he pulls out of the tangle of Dream's limbs a little, just enough to have a serious face-to-face conversation, and explains.

And then there's a second round of tearful, tender kisses, only now Dream can't keep his hands off Hob's belly, and all he's feeling is joy and relief.

I’m obsessed with the idea of a language barrier here??? Like Hob has been trying desperately to tell Dream and all the palace doctors what’s going on, but they don’t seem to get it… Hob is shaking the doctor by the shoulders like “I have. A bun in the oven!!!!” And the doctor is like “OH! I get it!!! He’s gluten intolerant!”

While he’s in the middle of being kidnapped, before he beats everyone up and escapes, he grabs one of the kidnappers and he’s like “do you know the world for pregnant in this language?? I’m going crazy here.” So he finally finds out the right word and hurried back home. (Meanwhile the doctors finally got hold of a dictionary from Hob’s old country and they’re like OHHH WE’RE SO STUPID, THE KING IS GOING TO KILL US).

Hob is weirdly nervous when he gets back, because now he can finally tell Dream… and he’s not sure how he’ll react. Maybe Dream won’t want him and will actually send him back to his old lands, and he obviously doesn’t want that. Thanks to hormones he’s nearly crying when he sees Dream again.

OBVIOUSLY it’s absolutely fine - more than fine, actually. Dream has never been happier. Thank god Hob isn’t actually ill, he’s back home and safe, and they’re actually going to have a baby together! Dream didn’t even know it was a possibility, but it’s something he’s wanted forever. Especially with Hob. He’s sliding his hands under Hob’s clothes and pressing against his belly so tenderly, then sweeping his husband up into his arms and carrying him off to have a nice long rest in bed.

(Dream also immediately hires someone fluent in both of their languages. Just in case.)

#the sandman #dreamling #cw pregnancy #warprize hob

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spidergutz-writes · 10 months

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What are some fluff hcs that you have for any and all of your handsome boys?? How would you spend a day with them? What are dates each of them would take you on?

meadow! Your spoiling me with all these delicious and amazing ideas!!

I’ll actually probably make this in 2 or 3 parts just so I can fit all mah bois :) (if requested, I will also add in some of my favorite gals!)

RED GUY:

Hand holding to the max!!

could be watching the most horrific thing unfold infront of him, and his hand would still be slotted in with yours

making dinner? He’s holding your hand.

watching tv? He’s holding your hand.

sleeping? Yup, he’s holding your hand!

he's a very shameless person when it comes to the softer things in your relationship

will not hesitate to pull you into his lap for cuddles.

also won’t hesitate to cling to you on every part of the day.

your cooking? Well so is he, now.

he loves cooking with you. It’s just so…normal.

normality is not something he experiences a lot, so even when you two are doing simple and mundane things, he enjoys it to the fullest :)

bro's sense of humor is so bad, but it gets to the point where it’s so ungodly terrible, that it becomes funny.

“Hey...what do you call a prisoner walking downstairs?”

“i dunno..What do ya call 'em?”

“..a CONDESCENDING… :D”

he thinks he’s funny, so please laugh :((

dates include him and you cooking a dessert of some sort.

his favorite is making apple cobbler pie with you :3

often you’ll end up with flour hand prints on your ass and some whipped cream on your nose.

he's just a silly guy doing silly things with his ooohh sooo silly partner!!

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

JIN BUBAIGAWARA: (what? He dies? No. No he doesn’t. Not here. He lives. That’s the reality we have here. Deal with it. Go argue with the wall idc.)

my sweet sweet baby boy. Where should I start?

okay, before he overcomes his trauma:

Took his mask off infront of you once, and now he can’t stop.

hes addicted to how you kiss his scar

how you coo at him and tell him he’s so handsome 🥺

Will fight for you if it’s serious. He’s still scared he’s a clone :((

will stand up for you tho

anyone says anything bad about you? He’s cursing them out while his alter ego is making weirdly terrifying threats.

”YOU GOT SOMETHING TO SAY, HUH?” “I hope you sleepwalk into oncoming traffic...” “DONT YOU FUCKIN SAY ANYTHING ABOUT MY PARTNER” “I hope everyone you love leaves you.…”

Dates consist of you two sitting on top of rooftops while having a picnic. Talking shit, cuddling, and eating.

you two end up falling asleep in each others arm a lot, admiring the sunset or the moon.

he is a human heating pad. Like seriously. You don’t need a blanket when he’s around

Loves lying on his back with you laying on his chest :)

is a little shy :(

Thinks you don’t want others to know you two are a thing :(((

but when you hold his hand in public or in front of the league? He melts.

When you first kissed his lips over the mask in public? He cried a little

tears of joy :)

can’t cook for shit. That man burns water.

don’t ask me how, but you tasked him to make breakfast one morning, and a fire broke out.

there was also mayonnaise on your ceiling. Again, don’t ask, not even he knows.

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

Simon Riley "Ghost" (this motherfucker doesn't die either. if anyone tells me otherwise, meet me at the Arby's parking lot at 6, BECAUSE I WILL FIGHT YOU)

oh my lawdy lawd. he is just SO FINE, WHERE DO I EVEN START??

this man has issues. he's really touch starved, but doesn't know how to accept any light touches.

he might shy away from your light advancements, because he's so used to any physical bringing harm or ill intent towards him.

but when you kiss his cheek, and hug his (slutty) little waist, he folds like a lawn chair on a hot summer day.

will scream, cry, throw up, roll on the ground, and promptly die if you ever serve him tea in a bowl (the French do this.)

likes to go to the gym with you. he loves to see you work out iykwim.

Ghost has never been a man for soft things, but he Isn't Ghost with you. With you, he's Simon Riley, a man who longs to have a sense of normalcy, a man who wants to take you out to nice restaurants, and a man who wants to bend down on one knee for you, and ask that burning question that lays in the back of his mind 24/7

he wants to do all of those things, but its going to take time. his insecurities tell him you deserve a man who can do more for you, but as always, you wash those thoughts away for him.

for now, his dates consist of concealed places, like the safety of either his, or your home, where he can take off his mask, safely. sitting, watching movies, drinking wine or scotch, and cuddling.

He's a big advocate on "actions speak louder than words" so he doesn't say "I love you" too often, but when he does say it? you better get the tissues. because he only says it during a really vulnerable moment of his, like when he's calming down from a PTSD induced flashback, or a panic attack, or when its late, in the middle of the night, when he knows its just him and his demons awake, with you sleeping soundly in his arms.

believe it or not, THIS MAN CAN COOK-

listen, i know he's British, and i know he's in the military, but that man just radiates "I'll make you a five star meal before i snap your neck"

he is a god when it comes to making steak. give him a basic ass steak, some spices, and a few other side ingredients and he'll give you a true taste of heaven. A taste of heaven from a man from hell.

we love him all the same though <3

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

holy fucking hell this took WAY too long, and I took some extra time on Ghosts.

as always, any type of constructive criticism is appreciated, no matter how harsh or small it is <3

#simon riley ghost #ghost x reader #simon riley #cod mw2 #cod ghost #ghost #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #red guy x reader #red guy #dont hug me im scared #dhmis red guy #jin bubaigawara #jin bubaigawara x reader #twice x reader #twice x you #twice x y/n

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artificialqueens · 1 year

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Hazy Shade of Winter (Ra'Jah O'hara x Icesis Couture) - Athena2

Summary: Ra'Jah helps Icesis through a depressive episode, and is there for her when she feels good again.

A/N: This is probably weird, but Canada vs the World just made me think these two could be fun as a pairing, and I wanted to try it. Thank you so much to Writ for encouraging me to do this and for basically giving me this idea. I hope you enjoy!

There’s a weak strand of sunlight peeking through the curtains, and for the first time in a while, it doesn’t make Icesis groan.

She rolls over, wincing as she unfolds her stiff and sore limbs. She had slept restlessly curled into the tightest ball she could manage, like it could protect her from the dark thoughts. Like if she took up less space, she’d feel less of the heaviness and guilt that had pinned her to the bed for so long. It was strange how she could feel so heavy and so empty at the same time.

Something in her feels lighter today, though. Like she’s not underwater anymore, trapped by the thought waves of how worthless she is, how pointless everything is. It’s a nicer current today, and she doesn’t even mind the wind howling outside, or the chill biting at her under the blanket. For the first time, things feel okay again. She feels okay again. Happy, really.

Ra'Jah is next to her, and it isn’t until now that Icesis realizes the dark side of her thoughts had expected her to leave—had even thought she deserved to have Ra’Jah leave. But she’s been here since yesterday, and she still is.

Iceiss was hit with a fit of guilt after avoiding her girlfriend for so long, so she lied and told Ra’Jah she was sick. Ra’Jah came over with a container of soup, and when she saw Icesis buried in bed, unable to get up, she offered to stay. Icesis lost track of how many times she told Ra'Jah that she could leave if she wanted, that she didn’t have to stay and deal with her when she was like this. But Ra'Jah wouldn’t leave. She had cleaned Icesis’ room, sorted her piles of mail, put days-old dirty dishes in the dishwasher—all the mundane chores Icesis hadn’t had the energy for. She brought her water and hot soup. She had seen the worst of Icesis, wiped the tears off her cheeks and combed the tangles from her hair and helped her change into clean pajamas. Icesis never wanted anyone to see her like that, and would just hide away until the storm passed, but Ra’Jah had braved the storm for the both of them. She had seen the worst, and she didn’t leave.

Ra'Jah shifts and opens her eyes, turning to Icesis with a hesitant smile. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah. Did my knees cracking wake you?” The joke feels weird, especially with how hoarse her voice still is from the lack of use and the constant stream of tears, but it’s good to make a joke again. Good to feel happy and safe in this bed with Ra'Jah.

“How are you feeling today?”

“I think I feel good. No, I do feel good. Really good, actually.” It’s like the first day of feeling fully well again after an illness. Everything seems brighter and more defined; even the striped sheets under her feel softer than normal. The weight has lifted from her chest somehow, and she can breathe again. She doesn’t know what’s shifted in her brain to make the depression clear away, make things hopeful again, but she’s grateful for it.

“That’s good.” Ra’Jah pulls her closer, bringing Icesis to her chest. She rubs her back, and it’s so gentle and loving that Icesis feels the familiar sting of tears in her eyes, because Ra’Jah has been kinder to Icesis than she ever thought anyone could be. Ra’Jah holds her a little tighter, whispering that it’s okay.

“Fuck, I don’t even know why I’m crying,” Icesis says thickly. “But it’s not for sadness.” Joy, maybe, that she’s happy and here with Ra’Jah, or the relief of getting through the worst. She’s surprised she has any tears left, but it feels like the last of the depression releasing itself from her.

“Sometimes you just have to feel your type of way and cry,” Ra’Jah says calmly.

Icesis sniffles and pulls away, cheeks reddening at the damp patch on the shoulder of Ra’Jah’s purple sweatshirt. “I’m sorry, I ruined your shirt—“

Ra'Jah shrugs. “It’s just a sweatshirt. And washing machines exist, you know.” She grins. “I know you know, because you complain about laundry almost as much as you complain about your back and knees.”

Icesis actually laughs, and she’s pretty sure it’s her first real laugh in weeks. One that feels easy and light, not something she had to force to pretend she was functioning.

“It’s good to hear your laugh again.” Ra’Jah strokes her hair. “Is there anything you need right now? Anything you want to do?”

Icesis is happy right now, happy and safe and feeling like a functioning human being. She could take advantage of that and do something with Ra’Jah today, go shopping or get breakfast or anything, really. And part of her wants to. But she’s also coming out of the worst depressive episode she’s had in a while, and it still lingers in the shadows. She could push herself to do something, but Ra'Jah is always reminding her to take it easy and take care of herself when she needs to. She’d rather stay here, where she's happy, than risk the fragility of that happiness by trying something else. Her bed has been part refuge and part prison lately, but right now, with Ra’Jah, it’s a safe haven, and she wants to stay in the safety.

“Can we just stay here today?” Icesis asks finally.

“Of course. It’s probably better to just stay where you are if you’re happy here,” Ra’Jah says, reasonable as always, like she’s reading Icesis’s mind. “Besides, it’s snowing outside, you know my ass hates the snow.”

“It is?” For the past few days, Icesis’ world has shrunk to her bed, the bathroom, and the worst recesses of her mind. She never noticed the weather outside, and slammed the clock face-down because it just made her worse to think of how much time she was wasting trapped in bed.

“I’ll show you.” Ra’Jah gets up and opens the curtains, then pulls up the blinds.

Icesis sits up slowly, gritting her teeth through the dizziness, and a snowy wonderland is revealed from the window. It’s nothing but a slushy mess in the street, but it’s so pretty while it falls. Fluffy and soft, clean and bright with hope, and some of it settles in her chest.

“I’m gonna make hot chocolate.”

Icesis stares out the window while Ra’Jah clangs around in the kitchen. She watches the snowflakes flutter in the wind, dancing gracefully to the ground. It reminds her of sledding as a kid, of the snow clinging to Ra’Jah’s shoulders when they first met. It’s the most beautiful thing Icesis has seen in what feels like forever.

Ra’Jah presses a steaming Jack Skellington mug into Icesis’ hands, because of course she remembered her favorite mug. The warmth stings against her palms, but she welcomes it. Welcomes the sign that she can feel again—because there’s so much more to feel than the darkness.

Icesis breathes in the scent of chocolate, sweet and rich. She forced herself to eat a few spoonfuls of soup yesterday, but her stomach rumbles, and she sips eagerly. Too eagerly. “It’s hot!” she whines, but she’s not even mad over the burnt tongue.

“Who could’ve guessed hot chocolate would be hot?” Ra’Jah teases.

Icesis just smiles as Ra’Jah settles back next to her. She could have left, but she didn’t, and it means more to Icesis than she thought possible. “Um, I wanted to thank you. For, you know, for helping me with everything, and staying here when you didn’t have to.”

Thank you for seeing me like this and still loving me. The words don’t come out, but she thinks Ra’Jah understands.

“Maybe I didn’t have to. But I wanted to,” Ra’Jah says firmly, nothing but love in her eyes. “I know you want to hide those bad things from me, but you don’t have to. Those things are part of you, Ice, but they’re not all of you. And I love all of you.”

For a second, Icesis worries she’s going to cry again because Ra’Jah’s words send a warmth even stronger than the hot chocolate through her. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Ra’Jah kisses her forehead gently. “You’re welcome.”

Icesis leans her head against Ra’Jah’s shoulder, and they watch the snow together.

#rpdr fanfiction #ra'jah o'hara #icesis couture #icesis x ra'jah #lesbian au #hurt/comfort #mild angst #athena2 #tw depression #concrit welcome #rare pair

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

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Storm Clouds on a Sunny Day

***Oooooo Teen!MC! Thank you for the request @lovevictoire! Now, although I think I'm technically Gen z??? (I could be a millennial. I have no idea). I have like 0 sense of most pop culture and probably won't be able to write that classic gen z chaotic humour properly, so I'm not going to attempt. What I can do is the hurt/comfort aspect of this which I LOVE! So, let's do this. I hope you enjoy it. ((Oh and before I forget *hugs*))***

Summary: MC has always been a happy positive ray of light that brought joy with them wherever they went; at least that's what the brothers and the other exchange students would tell you. But when they suddenly start getting quiet and begin isolating themselves, everyone is concerned.

TW: descriptions of grief.

In the darkness of the Devildom, you were the sun.

Since arriving in the dark, cruel world of the demons, you had reminded them how to smile, how to laugh, how to love. With you around, it was like the brothers had another sibling again. For the other exchange students, you were a breath of fresh amongst all the horror and despair of the Devildom.

In short, everyone had come to love and be incredibly fond of the teenage human that; which is why they noticed instantly when you weren't acting like yourself.

For starters, you had skipped breakfast, which greatly concerned Beel. The friendly giant had to go up and bring you your food afterwards.

He gently knocked on your door with one hand as he held a plate with way too much food on it in the other. "MC? Are you awake? You missed breakfast."

There was a small curse from the other side before he heard some shuffling. The door cracked open to reveal you wrapped in a bundle of blankets. It wasn't until you looked up that Beel got a good look at your face and his stomach dropped.

Your eyes were tinged red with tear tracks stained onto your cheeks. Your bottom lip was still trembling from the effort of not breaking down into sobs. There was not a trace of the sunshine child that you usually were inside of your stormy sad eyes.

Beel's heart broke as you still attempted to give him a small smile and took the plate from him. "Th-Thanks Beel."

He kept a hand on the door to prevent you from closing it. "MC, are you alright? What happened?"

Your eyes widened a little and you quickly wiped at your cheeks. "I-I'm just not feeling that well. Can...Can you tell Lucifer I'm taking a sick day?"

Beel nodded as concern grew stronger and stronger inside of him. "Of course. Whatever you need."

You weren't actually sick, Beel could tell that much. What you were was heartbroken. Something had reached into your soul and shattered it into pieces. He to ask you what it was. He wanted to reassure you that everything would be okay. But instead, he let you close the door and hurried back to his brothers.

His brothers looked at him skeptically as he arrived, noting the lack of a tiny human alongside him. It was Belphie, however, who noticed the distressed look on Beelzebub's face. "Beel, is everything alright? You look upset."

Beel simply shook his head and looked over to Lucifer. "MC has asked me to tell you that they would like to take a sick day."

Everyone was instantly on their feet in worry.

"Sick? What kind of illness? I can get any medicine they might need and look up the quickest way for them to recover." Satan quickly stated as he began to move towards the kitchen.

Belphie nodded and picked up his pillow. "If they're sick, they'll need rest right? I'll go up there and help them sleep better."

Mammon moved to go with Belphie. "I'll come with ya. They'll feel better with if their favourite's there with them."

Belphie growled and shoved Mammon as Levi spoke up. "I-I mean, I doubt they'd want to spend the entire day with me, but at the very least I can provide them with some movies and games for entertainment. In fact, it might be easier if we just, um, m-move them to my room."

Mammon and Belphie were now snapping at Levi rather than each other.

Asmo scrunched up his nose in disgust and put up his hands. "Yeah, no thanks. I love MC, but I'll leave you guys to handle all the snot and vomit thank you very much. Tell them when they're healthy, I'll give them a spa day, just the two of us."

Lucifer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Boys, Beel hadn't even told us what is wrong with them yet," everyone froze and turned to Beelzebub. Lucifer nodded and gestured for him to continue. "As you were saying, Beel."

Beel shifted uncomfortably at the attention. "Right. So, I don't think they're actually sick."

Lucifer rose an eyebrow at this as an air of defence grew around him. "You think they would lie?"

Beel huffed in annoyance and shook his head. "No. I don't think they would. But when they answered the door, they didn't look sick. They looked like they were grieving," everyone breathed in sharply at the statement, but Beel continued. "They honestly looked like they had been crying since midnight. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't get any sleep at all last night."

Lucifer frowned and finally made a move towards the door. "I, and I alone, will go speak with them. We don't want to overcrowd them. In the meantime, someone please contact Simeon just in case they truly are sick and Beel misinterpreted it," he ignored the several shouts of protest as he walked to your room.

He knocked softly on the door twice before carefully opening the door. "MC? Beelzebub informed me that you aren't feeling-"

Lucifer cut himself off as he saw you hugging your knees to your chest in bed, sobbing your heart out. He quickly made his way over and sat down beside you, gently placing a hand on your back. "MC, what's the matter? I've never seen you this upset before."

You didn't answer. You merely turned towards him and buried your face in his chest as you clung to his shirt. Lucifer quickly wrapped his arms around you and held you tight.

It was almost as if he could feel your sorrow within the sounds of your cries. The way they shuttered and cracked with every inhale and vibrated with pure agony on every exhale. You were trembling violently in his arms in a way that he hadn't felt since-

Since he held his brothers after Lilith's death.

Realization came to him as he glanced over and noticed the lightly crumped picture of you and another human on your side table. His breath caught in his throat and he held you tighter. "Oh MC," he whispered softly. "I am so sorry."

He held you there, letting your tears stain his shirt without a single care. He held you as your sobs softened into sniffles. He held you as your head lolled to the side and you finally gave in to sleep.

Lucifer had been about to fall asleep himself when he noticed the door open. Simeon, Luke and Solomon stood there with equal expressions of concern.

Luke took one look at your tear-stained face before a flicker of fury and angelic protectiveness flashed across his face. He opened his mouth to shout at Lucifer, but was stopped as a hand came over his mouth.

Solomon looked down at him sternly. "They're sleeping, Luke, and clearly in need of it. You don't want to wake them."

Luke huffed and slapped Solomon's hand away before going over to the bed and climbing in beside you and Lucifer.

Simeon pulled out a bag that clinked and clattered from the vials within it. "Satan had said that there was a possibility MC was ill?"

Lucifer sighed and continued to rub circles into your back while Luke gently dried your face with a handkerchief. "Unfortunately it seems the only illness they have is a broken heart." He nodded to the picture on the nightstand. "They appear to have lost someone. Today must be an anniversary of some sort that reminded them of it."

Both Solomon and Simeon's faces softened at the explanation. Simeon put the bag away. "I'm afraid I don't have anything that can help with that."

Solomon nodded. "It's a feeling I believe we are all familiar with," he stood in silent thought before snapping his fingers and grinning. "I know what will cheer them up! Some soup! It most certainly cheers me up whenever I'm upset. I'll go make them a pot right away," he smiled proudly as he left the room, missing the look of horror on everyone else's face.

"Oh my," Simeon began, "I better go supervise and make sure he doesn't accidentally poison them. Luke, do you wish to come?"

He shook his head and hugged you. "I'm not leaving them."

Simeon smiled fondly and glanced up to Lucifer who shrugged. "So long as he doesn't mind being the presence of a demon, I suppose he can stay."

Luke grumbled and continued looking at your hand as he held his up to it and compared sizes. "If they were able to fall asleep around you and you were able to comfort them...maybe you're not so bad."

Simeon raised an eyebrow in shock and laughed a little. "Well there you have it," he looked back to Lucifer. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

He nodded and watched the older angel leave.

@thegrimgrinningghost

Although the day was a rough one for you, there was not a second where you felt alone. There was always someone to hold you, to listen to you, and comfort you when you needed it most.

On days when sadness and despair threatened to cloud over the Devildom's only source of sunshine, the lords of the Devildom and your friends would be there to keep you warm until the sun could shine again.

***I hope you enjoyed this cute little comfort fic! Thanks again for the request @lovevictoire!***

TAGLIST

@henry-and-the-seven-lords

@satans-beloved-riv

@cosmixbun

@sufzku

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sailorshadzter · 3 years

Note

Bandaging each other up?

OOH i loved this one.

i actually started writing an entirely different take on this but ended up with this one. maybe ill finish the other one sometime, too, hahhaa.

anyway! enjoy!

These rooms do not belong to him.

It does not feel right to sleep in these rooms, ones that once belonged to Robb. They are not unfamiliar to him after all these years, but it feels strange and wrong to stand within them without Robb. His presence is still there, quiet and covered with a soft layer of dust. Things left behind in those last days before he'd left to fight for his home and family. The bedding has been changed and a fire burns in the hearth, but it does not yet feel as though he stands in the present, in a world without Robb and their family. Jon swears that for a single moment, when he closes his eyes, he is back to that final day they all spent together- that morning, shaving and bathing in preparation for the arrival of King Robert and his royal entourage. But he opens his eyes and he is back, back in a world without him, without all of them. He feels small and alone, a terrifyingly overwhelming sort of feeling.

Knock, knock.

The door swings open before he can say a word and it's Sansa standing there. Of course it is. He's smiling, faintly, because he can't help it at the sight of her. He's reminded, as he always is, that he is far from being alone in this world. "You're bleeding." It's her way of a greeting as she steps into the room, coming to stand before him there in the center of the room. "Let me help," she's setting aside the basket she carries, something he's only just noticed, and then she's reaching for his doublet instead. Inappropriate as it might have been, Jon does not protest as she slowly strips him from his dirty, blood stained doublet and shirt, revealing to her his battered body. "Sit," she commands, gesturing towards the nearest chair. As he drops into it, she's dragging the other chair close and then reaches for the basket she's brought with her.

"Are you alright?" He asks and her head shoots up, blue eyes widening, hands paused in their search inside the basket. Jon is thinking of down in the courtyard- of watching Rickon's body carried past the gate and towards the crypt. He's thinking of her witnessing the blood and horror of war, of what she had to face when it was Ramsay Bolton staring back at her. Her face softens with a smile then, before she nods. She bows her head once again, leaning in over a wound to his left forearm, dabbing at it with wine and a clean scrap of linen. And so they sit, for perhaps an hour, perhaps even longer, until every last one of his battle wounds has been cleaned and gently bandaged with her own hands. The needle and thread she'd brought along had not been needed, much to her relief.

“You need rest,” she says when she’s finished, rising up and brushing off her skirts.

“I need to-” he begins, rising up after her, but he finds after sitting so long, his legs refuse to work. It’s her hands that steady him when he stumbles, her touch strong despite the softness of her skin.

“You need rest,” she repeats, a bit more stern this time, her warm touch guiding him from the chair to the freshly made bed. Though he opens his mouth to protest, she hushes him and helps him climb into the bed that once had been Robb’s. For a long moment, there is silence, dozens of things sitting between them, unspoken, but somehow not unheard. “Shall I sit with you awhile?” She asks, softly, so very softly he he wonders if he’s only imagined her asking. But he nods all the same.

And so she draws the chair up beside his bed and sinks into it. His hand reaches for hers and she takes hold, thankful for this moment, thankful to have this chance again. Then, perhaps an hour or so later, this was where Brienne found them, though with Sansa sleeping, too, draped carefully over his legs, still yet hand in hand.

[ x x x ]

He’s only just woken from his slumber, one forced upon him by a potion administered by a maester. And yet, all he can think of is her. His body aches something fierce, but he ignores the pain as he makes his way down the dimly lit corridors until he reaches her door. Reaching up, he knocks thrice, his heart beating madly within his chest as he waits for what certainly must be an eternity for her to open the door.

Inside, Sansa has only just arrived.

She’s spent the better part of the last several hours tending to the injured and ensuring those who survived had beds to sleep in. Alone, without the help of Brienne or any maid, she’s stripped from her dirty cloak, her gown relatively clean in comparison. Exhaustion has yet to sit in and she wonders if she might call for a bath just as the knock sounds on her door.

It’s Jon that stands there, wild eyed, frantic.

“I had to see you,” he says breathlessly, not thinking, not even caring about the impact of his words. They stand at the center of her room now, the only sound the crackle of the fire and perhaps the sharp pounding of her heart. “There was no time before...” He thinks back to hearing her anguished cry as they carried Theon back from the godswood, her joy at their loved one’s survival greatly diminished by the loss of the only other person in the world who understood her darkest pain. There had been no time for them beyond an embrace that could only say so much. “I just had to see you.” He says this as if it should explain everything.

And it does.

She smiles, despite it all, Jon is enough to still bring a smile to her face. “Your sleeping potion should not yet have worn off,” she says, gesturing for him to take a seat anywhere he likes. Jon, ever attuned to her gestures, her actions, notices at once that it is not her dominant hand which she uses.

“You’re hurt!” He barks, surging towards her instead of the chair or the bed as she suggested. “Sansa!” He gasps as he takes hold of her right forearm, drawing it towards him as she flinches, the pain evident in her eyes. With a surprisingly gentle touch, he rolls back the sleeve of her gown to reveal a hastily wrapped and truthfully, forgotten, wound she had received down in the crypts.

“Its just a flesh wound,” she says, trying to draw her arm back, but Jon does not relinquish his hold upon her. Their eyes meet and she finally sighs, dropping into the chair she once offered to him. He finds some scraps of linen from her sewing basket and then sits down across from her, as he’s done dozens of times before, though this time he is not afraid to reach for her, not worried about what someone else might think if they saw him touching her in such a way. “Are you not going to ask how I got it?” She asks, her blue eyes dark and damp as he begins to unwrap her bloody bandage.

“Do you want me to?” He asks, looking up from her arm to meet her eyes. She closes hers, a single tear streaking her cheek; she shakes her head. “You’re lucky,” he says instead, going back to what he was doing. Her wound was indeed just a shallow wound, perhaps a blade caught her as she pulled away- he’s already heard what had happened down there in the crypts, about the horrors she and the others had faced. “There,” he says when he’s finished tying a fresh bandage around her wrist. He looks upon her now and he sees her for what she is- frightened, yet thankful. A woman who has seen far too much, innocent eyes that will never again be the same. “You should rest.”

As he turns, as if he means to go, she takes hold of his hand, keeping him there. “Stay,” she pleads softly. "Stay with me.” This time when their eyes meet, there’s something new there between them. Something strange, yet so very familiar. He nods.

She rises up from the chair and heads towards her bed. “I... I can’t unlace my gown,” she speaks quietly and though his cheeks burn, he nods. Without another word, she turns her back to him, pulling her hair across a shoulder. With shaking hands, Jon tugs on her laces until they loosen enough so the gown begins to slip over her shoulders. “Turn around,” she says softly and he does, the room so quiet he swears he can hear every beat of her heart. Or perhaps it’s just his own.

Stripping from her gown, she leaves in there on the floor, tugging her nightgown over her head, wincing when her arm raises up a bit too high. “Alright,” she says and Jon turns back to face her; they’ve been here before, she in her nightgown, but sometimes it was her sneaking into his chamber, rather than him inside hers. And yet... Something felt different about this time, about this moment. But she still offered him the space beside her as she climbs into her bed, knowing it would not be the same without him beside her.

He hesitates, but only because like her, he notices that this time is different.

But he climbs in after her and she presses herself close against him, as she’s done countless times before. She fits perfectly in the space beside him and he marvels at such a thing, as he always does, wondering for a split second if now might be the time to tell her the truth. But he sees when he’s glanced down that her head rests against his chest and her eyes have closed; sleep consumes her, as it should.

And so he closes his eyes, too; he would tell her in the morning.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #actuallyjonsa #ask box prompts #send me prompts #my writing

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peakyxtommy · 3 years

Text

Better Days - Thomas Shelby x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Dark/Hurt/Comfort/Sad Fic/Slight Fluff

WC: 3.1K

Summary: Reader is having a bad time & Tommy comforts her

Gif Credit: @bonniebirddoesgifs

It was another morning of waking up with the weight of the world on your chest. The heavy feeling of dread, as if you were walking around with a cement block in the middle of your heart. A day where rolling around to the other side of the bed and pulling the covers over your head seemed better than leaving to the outside world. Staying under the covers had the illusion to block out the light, to block out the pain you felt deep within you. A sadness that seemed to linger, never leaving your side. A continuous cycle, that seemed to never end. Always ready to swallow you whole, but never knowing when it would come. A monster in the closet, always lurking, searching for ways to collide right into you at the worst times possible.

When your feet collide on the cold wooden floor to carry yourself to the bathroom, to start with the routine of your morning, you already knew what kind of day it was going to be. Of mentally checking off the list of tasks to get you from one step to another. You try not to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, afraid to look into your eyes. Eyes that held so much pain and sorrow, eyes that have seen enough heartache. Eyes that have seen joy and happiness, wondering how you could feel the bittersweetness of both sides.

Once dressed and partially fed for the day you continue on through the notions of the day. Repeating the words back to yourself, to feel a sense of quiet, that you were actually going to make it through the day. The long hours of repetitive activity and small conversation with those that you encounter through the day. Masking who you are, pretending that things are okay as they seem. Feeling more energy suck out of you as the hours float on by. Your mind becomes bogged down like a boat in a storm on a foggy night in need of a lighthouse to guide it back safe to shore.

Minding counting down the hours until you could return home and hide. Hide from the world, your problems, and from the one you loved deeply. Shamed and guilt ridden to share the thoughts that held your mind captive on a loop, like a personal tape, running endlessly inside you. The tape that recounted every wrong, every lie, every misstep you have taken.

As soon as you stepped through the door and had your final conversation of the day thus far with Mary, it felt like a small win. You go and find comfort in the darkness and the burrow of blankets on your bed, surrounded by the warmth and love you so desperately craved, wanted to feel. Hoping the pieces would form back together again.

“Mary, have you seen (Y/N)?” Tommy asks as he comes through the door, placing his coat on the rack. You were usually out in the open when he came in early reading on the couch or in your craft room.

“She’s upstairs, lying down Sir.” The woman speaks with a soft tone.

“Is she feeling ill?” He questions with raised brows as it was still early in the evening.

“I think so Sir, she hasn’t eaten much these past few days. I went up a while ago to check on her but she’s sleeping, she’s been out for a while.”

“Thank you Mary, I’ll handle it from here.” He speaks ushering the maid off and heading toward the stairs. He was cursing himself internally for not noticing your emotional state sooner. That’s how he found you, when he creaks open the door. Your frame huddled under the covers, facing toward his side of the bed, with the small lamp by the bedside on.

He reaches the side of your bed, he sees the remnant of wet tears on your face. He takes a seat on the bed, hand reaching out to gently rub your arm to awake you from your slumber.

“Love, I’m home. Time to get up.” He whispers as you awaken to his voice and comforting touch.

“‘Hi Tommy.” You whisper back with a small smile. A smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

“How was your day?” He says in a low tone, noticing the way your eyes close for a moment and the pout that appears on your face.

“Not good.” Is the only response that leaves your still pouting lips. It hurts and silently frustrates him that you two are the same in this regard but you are still the better of the two when it comes to others. Internally when you are struggling you're just as bad as him but in the opposite of taking it out on yourself and your body instead of the booze and smokes. He had gotten better than the first few months of your relationship of knowing when you were getting sad and things weren’t going good.

“Do you want to talk about what’s really bothering you?” He asks in a gentle manner not wanting to badger you but would if you didn’t speak the truth before you went to bed. He knew you always needed space when you were upset and then would let him in. The blue eyes that look so soft in this moment stare into yours with concern and worry. It hurt knowing you were hurting him in this way by remaining silent. You didn’t know why you’d do this still to this day and even as long as you two have been together. You were independent, strong, and prideful at times, but were the most scared when you had to open up your dark thoughts to the soul that loved you like hand craft jewels themselves.

“Maybe later. Need to shower.” You finally sit up and take his hand in yours just craving his touch and he reciprocates the action.

“Have a proper meal, heard you haven’t had much of an appetite these past few days.” His hands squeeze yours, thumbs rubbing circles on your hands.

“Yes, we’ll have a proper meal Mr. Shelby. Whatever it is you want we will have it.” You respond, resting your head against his chest for a moment.

“You go shower and I’ll see what I can get started in the kitchen.” His warm lips press into your forehead.

“Alright, I’ll meet you down there in a bit.” You give him a small smile and press your lips against his cheek, legs swinging over the edge to stand and stretch, him copying your motions. As you walk past him, he grabs your hand to get your attention, causing you to turn to look up at him.

“(Y/N), I love you. Whatever it is, we can handle it together.” You nod your head at his words ready to cry about them as you go run your shower. You watch as he leaves the room, the door closing shut behind him. The flick of a switch and twist of a knob, you find yourself undressing and climbing into the porcelain tub. Those were the days you sat in the hot shower, letting the droplets burn the skin. Wondering about why life has you so down, so paralyze by fear, you could barely breathe. You were drowning under the water and no one was there to pull you out.

That is where and when you were the most vulnerable. Alone. The most earth shattering sound releases through your lungs and tightens them back up as it moves through your body. You wonder how one person could have a multitude of tears stored in them that was infinite. It would only last for so long before you felt you could continue on with the task at hand that would bring you closer to the relief you were waiting for.

It was a rare sight to see and was one that you enjoyed when it did happen. It warmed your heart and brought a genuine smile to your face, despite the heaviness in your heart. You leaned against the frame, watching him in an element he was secretly good at but didn’t have the time to do.

Let alone did he ever sit still to finish an actual meal half the time but he would try his hardest for you because meals were sometimes the only part of the day you two would spend together. He was busy and worked at all hours of the day but you had a regular day job. He would try to come home early in the evenings to eat with you even if it meant he had to go back out or continue work in his office, or spend it with you. Sometimes you worked long hours or would have to bring work home that needed completion after hours.

He was wearing his round spectacles, which you enjoyed as it made him look more attractive than he already was. He was annoyed and embarrassed about them at first, but you’d always find a way to remind him how much you loved them. His sleeves were rolled halfway up revealing his strong forearms and ringed fingers that were slicing lettuce on a wooden cutting board. White dish cloth hanging from his shoulder.

“Looks like you’ve been busy here, Chef Shelby.” You teased making your presence known as he glances up at you with a playful stare.

“Only the best for you. How long have you been standing there?”

“Not too long, I had to take the chance to admire what’s mine.”

“Only yours forever.” He passes you a slice of cucumber as you take a seat at the island.

“What are you cooking tonight?”

“Sausage, mash potatoes, and salad.”

“That sounds great. Thank you Tom.” You both grin at the other as you watch him play chef in the kitchen. It was satisfying as you haven’t had a moment to feel this good in the past couple of weeks. You sat talking about his day and him telling you a funny story of the younger Shelby clan over dinner.

You still had lots of stories to discover about the man in front of you as did him. It was ever evolving when one would share a new story, that would come to the conscious so vividly like a dream of the incident happening again. It wasn’t often Tommy told stories of his past but when he did was usual in moments like these or when you two were up late at night together talking like two young lovers in love.

It was moments like these where it felt easier to breath, even if it was only temporary.

A moment of bliss so delightful, it was beginning to stitch the pieces back together.

Distractions could only last for so long even good ones. You found yourself back in the reality of your sadness as the silence lapsed between the two of you. It wasn’t awkward but you knew you still had to talk to the one person that cared for you better than did sometimes and vice versa.

You both were resting with your backs against the headboard of the bed, settling down for the remainder of the evening. Your upper body was half laying on his broad chest and head was resting against right in the crook of his neck. Your fingers were tracing circles on his bare torso mindlessly, mind away in the abyss.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, hmm?” His hot breath whispers in your ear, lips pressing to your temple.

“Too much. It’s like my brain is a broken record and there’s no silence. I can’t shut off the thoughts and it’s clouding my thinking. Everything feels heavy and meaningless. Everything is the same day in and out. Life is passing by and I'm stuck in the middle watching it flash across my eyes.

The fear sets in like a weight in my stomach. It tenses my body and makes it hard to breath, to focus. It sets in first thing as I wake and lasts until it's time to go to bed. I can’t catch a break from it. It’s been hard trying to go to sleep, I feel fatigued all the time.

The weight of existence is swallowing me back down to the depths of Hell. When I close my eyes at night all I can see is this darkness. I’m in our house and running away from this shadow that keeps chasing me. It always finds me no matter where I run or hide. When I call out or try to find you, you never come. It always ends that same, with the shadow coming to swallow me but I wake before it ever can.”

The hot tears come back, falling against his chest as he listens to your inner monologue. The deepest part of who you were, on display for him to nurture with endearment. Your thoughts never scared him because of the life he lived through. Every time he held your fragile and aching body with heart wrenching sobs into his body in moments like this, frightened him. Distressed him to know that you were hurting this deeply. That you were carrying this alone and he hadn’t noticed.

You were the sweetest of souls and free spirited. You were smart and a hard worker. When he first met you, he knew that you would be sticking around for a while. Once he fell in love with you, it was over for him. You were everything he wanted and more. He did his best to please you and give you everything you wanted. You were the most beautiful woman he laid eyes on. He wanted to have children with you in the future. He wanted old and gray with you.

“Love, it’s okay I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here. I’m always going to find you. I’m always going to protect you and will never let anything happen to you. I’ll always save you.”

He holds you close as you continue to cry.

“Love, calm down. Let’s breathe or you’re going to make yourself sick.” He lifts your head, his heart aching more at the sight or your dreary face.

Once he manages to get you to breathe at a normal pace. He gets to make his way to the bathroom. Returns after a minute with a warm rag to wet your face and a cup of water to drink. As you sip the water he wipes your face with the warm cloth. The water quenches your throat and the warmth from the cloth soothes your body while your husband soothes your mind with his affectionate actions.

For that you were grateful. Grateful for a man like Thomas Shelby despite his flaws, that he too even loved you despite yours. He was charming and funny in private when it was just the two of you. He always knew how to get your attention in the softest way and would do anything to see you smile. You held the moon, the stars, and the whole universe in your being for him.

Grateful that a man like Thomas Shelby understood sadness, grief, and the horror of what it felt like to not be able to escape from your dark thoughts. The thoughts that get stuck like leaves in the gutter, waiting to be cleaned out, or it can’t make way for the next rainfall.

He would know how to stitch you back together. It was in those moments of unraveling the strings that held you so tight together, would untangle and pull you closer to him.

“What do you want me to do to help you? I’ll do anything you want. Take time off work, you can quit your job and get a new one. We can go spend time away from town and go on a trip. I want you to know that I want you to be happy and I'll do anything in my power to help you get there.

Don’t listen to the negative voices in your head, love, does you no good. Think of all the amazing things you are. You are an excellent wife and help the company greatly. You are confident at your job and work twice as hard as me. You’re a heartfelt daughter and aunt. Watching with the nephews and nieces makes me know you’re going to be a wonderful mother.

You’re the love of my life. I love you so much, wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you weren’t here. I want old and gray with you, but we need to have some kids first.” His big warm palms hold your face, caressing your cheeks with his fingers.

“Thank you Tommy. I love you so much.” Your lips press against his chaste and slow moving in sync as your noses would bump slightly with minor movements.

“There will be better days ahead love, I promise. When you close your eyes dream of me. I’ll come save you. I’ll be here when you wake up, I'm all yours until further notice.” His lips pressed against yours for the final time that night, as the lights were off. He was on his side holding you to his chest, as your body mirrored his as you laid your head on his chest, his arms holding your back.

You knew in that moment, you didn’t need to say anything. He knew you and your heart for all that it was worth. He would come and help you water your plants as many times as you needed help. He would help you build your garden back until you were blooming yet again.

He was your lifeline, that came to save you time and time again. You would do the same for him. Your love for another ran deep, deeper than both you admitted aloud sometimes. Both being able to tell through little actions and thoughts that would occur daily, he was your livewire.

As your eyes closed you dreamed about something good for a first time in a long time. It was as vivid as a fresh painting on a warm spring day. It was a flash forward of your life. Of being with Tommy, having children, and being old and gray together.

You slept in peace of knowing there were going to be better days ahead.

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy

If you want to be added to my taglist, just shoot me an Ask or comment down below!

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peakyxtommy

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sckyie · 3 years

Text

song: driver’s license by olivia rodrigo

word count: 2.5k

genre + warnings: angst; swearing, fear of driving, reminiscing in old memories

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: this was orignially supposed to just be an imagine inspired by the song, not apart of the song series but it fits too well to not change oikawa’s song. i also wrote this for @kybabi bc i love her :D n e wayz enjoy :) (part 2)

"So here you're going to turn and he'll make you do a parallel park in the street. You remember how to do that right?" Oikawa asked as he guided you to the next turn. As you turn the steering wheel, you spot a crowded curbside.

"No, can you please please park for me? I hate parallel parking," You pleaded.

"Only because you asked so nicely," He teased.

Ever since you told your best friend that you wanted to learn how to drive, Oikawa never let it go whenever you wanted to hang out. Having you drive him around for practice and giving you tips as you went. He's helped you a ton while you drove around, the only issues you had were parallel parking and merging onto the highway.

"Maybe we should try the highway again," Oikawa said after you two switched seats.

"Are you asking for a death wish?" You joked. "I drive too slow and I'm scare to merge into lanes."

"We can practice on smaller freeways if you want," He asks.

"No," You growled.

It was always a terrifying thing to drive on the highway. You always saw those horrid accidents and feared being in one. Oikawa would always put his hand on your thigh as you merged to calm you down. Just having him be there was enough to get you to get onto the highway. All your fears just faded with him beside you.

Just having this intimate driving lesson with him was enough for you. You grew to fall in love in your best friend. A cliché thing, yet you couldn't say anything. Only you and your girl friends knew about your big crush. It was a funny thing, falling for your childhood best friend. Iwaizumi always joked about you doing so but you never admitted to liking Oikawa. What would that do to your friendship?

Today was the day, it was your test day. The scariest thing you anticipated was finally here. The thing you practiced days on end with Oikawa. The thing that could either make or break you. Today, you'd either come out with your license or you'll be walking home.

The nerves crept up your body like spiders leaving a trail of anxiety webs. You bounced you leg as you waited in the lobby looking out for your driving instructor. As your sweaty palms go to check the time, you notice a text message from Oikawa.

butthead: hey! good luck on your test today!

That's what cooled you down. A simple saying of good fortune will help, right? Sure enough, the test was a breeze, minus the parallel parking as it was the one mistake you got. You happily drove home to tell the news to your parents.

"Have you told Tooru yet?" Your mom asked.

"I'll wait until my actual driver license to prove to him I got it," You smiled.

"You like him don't you?" Your mom gestured to the joy on your face. "I can tell."

"No," You looked away from your mom as she raised her eyebrow. "Okay, maybe but you can't say anything. I'm going to my room now." She chuckled as you dragged you feet to your room.

Two weeks passes and you finally received your license in the mail. You smiled happily down at your new card as you walked outside the school building. You looked up to search for your best friend. Your eyes scanned the courtyard before landing on Iwaizumi. Assuming Oikawa was nearby, you headed towards him.

"Hey Iwa, where's Oiks?" You asked. Iwaizumi raised up his hand and pointed across to the gate. You looked over to find Oikawa talking to Kasumi, a classmate of yours.

"He's asking her to go on a date with him again," Iwaizumi says.

Again? He's done it before?

"Are they dating?" You ask.

"Not yet, Oikawa wants to ask her to be his girlfriend on the date," Iwa explains. "What's that?" He points to your hands as you fiddled with the corner of your driver's license.

"Oh," You said solemnly. "I got my license."

You waved goodbye to your childhood friend before going into he parking lot. Without thinking, you started the car and just began to drive. Out of the school and onto who knows where. Your mind grew blank as you drove.

How could he not mention Kasumi to you? He used to tell you everything but lately he'd been so distant. Maybe that's why he hasn't texted you all week, you thought. Who could blame him for liking Kasumi? She's so pretty and not to mention how smart she is. She's the class representative and she's one of the nicest girls around.

You fell for the one man you shouldn't have. It was too late to even confess how you felt. He was already falling for another while you were left behind. You felt a sharp pain in your chest as you drove by familiar buildings.

The laundromat where you and Oikawa would go to help with the laundry. You both would end up messing around and your parents would have to kick you two out. You and Oikawa would go across the street to the convenience store to buy steamed buns.

He doesn't like you.

The library where you would wait for Oikawa to finish practice so you two could study together. He'd bring you a bottle of tea and some sort of snack to keep you from burning out. Those study dates where you'd stay until the library was closed.

Give up, stop thinking of him.

The ramen restaurant where Oikawa would take you if he won a game. It was a great celebration and you two had made so many memories there. You two had gone there so often, he convinced the owner that you were his girlfriend.

Let him go.

All the feelings you had for him began to ache in your heart as you reminisced in the memories. You gripped tighter on the wheel as you saw an highway exit. "Fuck," You whispered as you merged into the fast lane. Suddenly all those fears you had of driving, just disappeared. You felt this peace as your eyes locked on the long highway. It was like, nothing hurt anymore. Your tensed shoulders relaxed, yet you felt tears roll down your cheeks. You took deep breaths as you drove attempting to stop your tears.

Soon enough, driving on the highway had shifted from a phobia to an escape. Everyday after school, rather than meeting up with Oikawa and Iwaizumi before practice, you'd drive on the highway and on backroads. It was the only thing that kept you sane when you see Kasumi with Oikawa together.

You became accustomed to the fast pace of the highways. Occasionally you'd speed if you felt some type of pain grow in your chest. You'd blast music to drown out any thoughts or feelings you had. You knew Oikawa could never be yours, so why bother crying over him, right? The thought of being around him began to make you uncomfortable. If you kept your distance, you wouldn't get hurt. You wouldn't be considered a distraction.

butthead: hey?

you: what's up?

butthead: it's been a while since i've seen you :( i miss my best friend

you: are you sure you mean to text me or iwa?

butthead: you, y/n i miss hanging with you

butthead: you didn't come to the restaurant after our game

you: i was busy, sorry

butthead: :(

you: i gotta go, ill talk to you later

Oikawa sighed at his phone and looked across the table to Iwaizumi. "Have you talked to Y/n lately?" He asked.

"Yeah, she borrowed gas money from me," Iwa says before slurping his noodles.

"Gas money? She got her license?" Oikawa tilts his head. "How long has it been?"

"A month? You got caught up with Kasumi," Iwaizumi says.

"Hmph," Oikawa huffed as he sipped his drink. He'd been spending so much time with Kasumi that he forgot about you. Or was it, you started to forget about him? He glances at the window behind Iwa and noticed a familiar car parking.

You parked your car across the street of the restaurant next to a convenience store. You quickly got out and went into the store looking for something to drink. As you began to scan the fridge, you heard the door open. "Y/n?" You turned to find Oikawa.

"What are you doing here?" You turned back to grab a soda.

"Iwa came to eat with me since you didn't make it," Oikawa says. "He's still there, did you want to join us?"

"No thanks, I'm kinda busy at the moment," You say dully. Oikawa goes to speak but you had already walked to go pay for your drink. "Later Oikawa."

"Oikawa?" He watched as you left the store and into your car. He follows suit and watched you speed off. Oikawa quickly makes his way back to the restaurant and seats himself disgruntled. "Y/n called me Oikawa..."

"That's your name isn't it?" Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow.

"She always calls me Oiks or Ru, never Oikawa," He says. "Did I do something wrong?"

Iwaizumi shrugged even though he knew the answer well enough. After Oikawa had asked Kasumi to be his girlfriend, your demeanor had changed. Iwa was the first to notice too. Typically, after school you'd see the duo before practice started, yet since you learnt Oikawa had eyes for another, you stopped.

One day, Iwaizumi decided to follow after you when school was over. He trailed behind as you walked to your car door. You pulled open the door handle only for Iwa to shut the door immediately after. You turned to find Iwaizumi with scrunched eyebrows. "What's wrong with you?" He asked. "Why haven't you came by before practice?"

"No reason, I'm just busy," You lied.

"Liar, what's wrong?" He asks yet you remained silent. "I won't tell Shittykawa just tell me why you're being so distant...and also why your eyes are always puffy."

You paused before answering, "I'm just...upset with Oikawa...and Kasumi.."

"Do you..?" Iwaizumi implied. You nod and looked at the ground. "What have you been doing since you found out about them?"

"Driving," You sighed. "Just driving...It's keep me off my mind all week. I bear the fact that he looks so happy with her and not...me. God I'm so stupid."

"Don't say that-" Iwa started but you immediately lashed out.

"It's true! I was too late to confess! And I fell for the one boy I can't have!" You felt tears well up in your eyes. "I can't even drive by certain places without getting upset. I take backroads and I avoid them completely. I hate driving by his house but it's the only way to my own. He just treats me like another fucking fan girl! I'm just so stupid for falling for my best friend." Since that day, Iwaizumi kept to his promise. Not word about your feelings were said to Oikawa.

butthead: hey are you busy right now ?

you: no, what's up?

butthead: can you help me with something?

you: depends

butthead: meet me at the library so i can tell you more :)

You locked you phone and tossed it into your passenger's seat. You looked up to see the light change to green, allowing you to speed into the highway. Your hands rested at the bottom of the wheel as you drove. The slow, lo-fi music surrounded your car as you drove which let you get out of your trapped mind.

It was a crazy thought to think that you and Oikawa were so excited to drive together. Yet now all you want to do is drive alone. You turned up the volume of your music as you merged into your neighborhood. You leaned further back into your seat as you were driving around the suburbs. You glance at the white cars lining one street leading to the library. You scoffed at the sight as a repressed memory resurfaced.

"Why do you like white cars so much?" You chuckled.

"Because they look clean and nice? Sorry I don't like your basic silver car," Oikawa raised his hand to block your face.

"I'm basic? Says the one who wants an automatic," You pretend to throw up to mock him.

"For someone who can't drive yet, you talk big," Oikawa pats your head only to be smacked a few seconds late. Oikawa drapes his arm over you as you walked down the street to the library The entire walk was filled with mocking and talking about the future. "Let me teach you how to drive, that way we could go out together more."

You finally arrived at the library, spotting Oikawa before parking the car. He watches as you easily parallel park and is stunned by how casual you are as you drove. You set out and approach him. Oikawa holds out a snack to you but you politely refuse.

"Let's go inside?" He asks. You shrugged and followed him in. Rather than sitting beside him like usual, you sat across from him. You still had those feelings for him but you couldn't stand sitting next to him. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you anticipated his next words. "I was wondering if you could help me with Kasumi?"

Ouch.

"With what?" You ask.

"I want to give her a gift, right?" He starts. "A gift that goes along with me telling her I love her."

He loves her?

Your heart aches but you decide to move past that. "Isn't it a bit early to say I love you?"

"Well, we were long time friends before we started dating and I feel like it's the right time to, y'know?" Oikawa leans forward on the table. "Can you help me find a gift?"

This feels familiar. Helping him find a gift for a girl that isn't you. It seems like anytime he does have a crush he'd come to you for advice. This is the first time that you didn't want to give into his favors.

"No," You sighed.

"No? Wait why not?" He raised his eyebrows at you.

"Because," Say it. "Because I-"

"Because?" Oikawa tilts his head at your response.

"Because I can't keep doing things like this for you," You stood up and began heading for the entrance. Oikawa followed afterwards as he could see the pain in your voice.

"Y/n, talk to me, we haven't talked in forever. Tell me what's wrong," He says as you exit the library. You ignore his voice and reached for your car door. He grabs your arm but you shove him off.

"Would you just- leave me alone?" You snapped. "I don't want to help you, okay?"

"What did I do?" Oikawa was beyond confused at your response.

"I- You- Ugh! Just go away, I don't want to see you!" Your voice cracked as the suppressed feelings began to rise again.

"Why not!" Oikawa grabbed your arm again, this time you weren't able to break free.

"Because I fucking loved you idiot!" You yelled. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you stopped struggling in his hold. Oikawa paused and stared at you in wonder.

"You...loved me?" He asked.

"I still fucking love you! God, I hate you- I just- Let go!" You pulled off him. "I'm leaving. If you try to stop me, I'm never speaking to you again." You wiped your tears as you entered your car. Driving off into the neighborhood, crying at the red lights knowing you could've ruined your whole friendship.

Oikawa watched as you sped off. Those words lingered in his ear as he stared down at his hand where you let go. His mind was lost in thought, how could his best friend love him? Was he that blind that he couldn't see your admiration? "She...loves me?" He thought.

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @d0llpie @elianetsantana @joy-laufeyson @kac-chowsballs

#haikyuu #haikyu #hq #haikyuu x you #haikyu x you #hq x you #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru #oikawa imagine #oikawa angst #hss; sckyie playlist

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livingforthewhump · 3 years

Note

Dehydration for bthb?

Blue for requested; red for posted.

First Previous Next

—

“Are you awake yet, doll?”

Caroline groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn’t remember falling asleep. Her mouth was dry, the texture of sand scratching at her throat. Actually, all of her felt like it had been filled with sand, her limbs weak and heavy.

“Open your eyes for me,” Paladin said coaxingly, sliding his hand under her head to lift it off the deliciously cold floor. She forced her eyes open, limp in Paladin’s hands as her vision swam before her.

A whimpering sound came from her throat and she closed her eyes, hands reaching out for something to steady her and meeting Paladin’s shirt.

He laughed. “Dizzy, hm?”

“Wha-“ Caroline croaked, voice crackling. “What-“

“You’re dehydrated, darling. Haven’t had water in a few days. Now open your eyes.” He gave her head a little jostle and she obeyed. Her eyes blinked in and out of focus, which she realized gratingly that Paladin would probably see as adorable. She hoped he would get bored of her like this and let her drink before it was too late.

She cringed at the thought. She was pathetic, breaking already.

“I want you to try and sit up, doll,” Paladin said, putting a bit of pressure on her head to encourage her. She propped her shaky arms beneath her and slowly sat up, feeling miserable.

“Good girl.” Paladin brushed her hair out of her face, a surprising relief as she processed that it was hot in the room, it wasn’t just her. “Now stand up. Come on, I’ll help you.”

Caroline curled in on herself, wrapping her arms around her knees and tucking her head in. “No,” she said. It came out weak, even more broken than obeying, somehow. “Leave me alone.”

A hand grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. Too far. It set the world spinning again, and Caroline had to catch herself from falling backwards as Paladin’s face hovered above her, his lips were much too close to her, suffocating, and she felt his breath on her face as he spoke.

“You’re going to do as I say, doll. Do you know why?” He gazed at her intently. “Because you either obey, and I will give you water, or I’ll leave you in here for another day, with the temperature at 100 degrees. It’s already rising. Can you feel it, doll?”

She swallowed. Or tried to. “Yes,” she breathed, imagining she sounded like a gust of desert wind.

“Good.” He released her hair and stood up, walking in front of her and extending a hand. Caroline grabbed it unsteadily and let him pull her up. As soon as her weight was on her feet she plunged forward, the room spiraling, only to be encased in Paladin’s steady hold.

“That’s alright, doll. You’re okay,” he murmured in her ear, setting her on her feet again. Tears pricked her eyes because no she wasn’t. Paladin grabbed her jaw, tilted her face upwards, and smiled. “I wouldn’t recommend crying just now. You’ll lose water much faster.”

She grit her teeth and glared.

He just laughed. “There’s that fire again. Why don’t we play a game, doll?”

Caroline swayed on her feet and rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty good at chess.”

“Noted. Today, however, we’re playing a new game. One where you get to choose.”

“Choose what?” Caroline prompted, annoyed.

“You can either drink this entire glass of water that’s drugged and will make it so you can’t move or-“ He placed the glass on a round tray. “-you can hold this tray above your head until I tell you to stop and get a glass of clean water.”

“What’s the catch?” She crossed her arms. “You’re not telling me everything.”

Paladin smiled mildly. “If you take the glass, what happens next is a surprise. If you take the tray, for each time you spill a drop, I’ll give you one lash with the whip. And, of course, if you want to back down at any time, you only have to drink the water.”

Caroline frowned at the tray. “And you’re sure we can’t just play chess?”

“Make your choice, doll.”

The drug wasn’t an option. She’d had enough of not being able to move.

“The tray.”

Some kind of wicked joy sparked in Paladin’s eyes. “Very well.”

She took the tray from him, staring apprehensively at the water level, nearly touching the top of the cup. She’s have to be nearly perfectly still to avoid spilling.

Paladin gently took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look in his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to drink it? It would be so much easier.”

In response, Caroline planted her feet and lifted the tray above her head.

Paladin pushed her elbows inward. “Straight arms.” One hand went to her lower back, straightening her spine. “Keep good posture, doll. There you go. That’s lovely.” He took a step back to study her, looking all too pleased with himself.

Caroline breathed heavily against the stifling air. Her hair cling to her face, damp with sweat. This was definitely not good for her water levels.

Paladin began circling her slowly, and she made the mistake turning her head to follow him. Her vision swam woozily, her arms swayed, and she heard a small splash of water. Paladin was behind her. He traced a finger lightly down her back.

“One,” he said.

Caroline sucked in a hot breath, righting herself. Her arms already burned.

—

Tag list (message me if you want to be added or removed): @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @twistedcaretaker @lonesome--hunter @poppys-writing @endless-whump @jkoo7jkoo5-baby-susan @mostlytryingtostayalive @shadowylemon @cherryblossomskye @utopian819 @whole-and-apart-and-between @written-to-death @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @villain-enthusiast @hurting-fictional-people @kixngiggles @onestopheroxvillain @lave-e @bibliophilelifestyle

#bthb #bth bingo #bad things happen bingo #dehydration #dehydration whump #paladin series #superhero whump #hero whumper #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #weak whumpee #my writing #mine #my ocs #breaking whumpee #defiant whumpee #noncon touching #threatening #threats

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potionsprefect · 3 years

Text

One Last Talk

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: He has one last talk with the man whom he looked up to the most

Rating: M

Category: angst

Warnings: character death, mentions of death

He knew he didn’t have long left. Ethan had watched too many patients in his career take similar last breaths. But it was always different when it was one of your own.

It was a miracle he had lived this long. Considering what he had battled earlier in life, he wasn’t expected to make it to old age. But Naveen Banerji had defied the odds once and wasn’t about to lose without trying.

Ethan was determined not to let him be alone. He would stay with him, howevery long it would take. Victoria was adamant she wanted to be with him too but Ethan told her the best place she could be was looking after their 8 year old twins at home.

Ethan carefully monitored Naveen’s vitals. The main thing was that he was comfortable and wasn’t in any pain.

“Ethan...” Naveen’s soft voice broke the silence in the room. Ethan looked up and saw Naveen trying to open his eyes.

“Take it easy Naveen. No sudden movements.” Ethan said moving closer to the bed.

“And here’s me thinking you’d go soft on me.” Naveen chuckled. “I know Ethan. I know this is it.”

“You don’t have to talk like that Naveen.” Ethan sighed.

“But it was going to happen anyway. And that time is now. I’ve got no complaints here. I’ve had a good innings. That’s cricket terminology because I know you don’t usually keep up with sports. I didn’t think I’d win first time round. I knew I didn’t have the greatest of chances.” Naveen explained.

“Naveen-“

“But I’ve done alright. I’ve seen many things over the years, I just wished I’d taken time to experience them more, give them my full attention. Initially at least. But then I had a new purpose, in the form of two small Ramsey children.” Naveen smiled weakly.

Ethan chuckled slightly. “They can be a bit of a handful.”

“Not for me they’re not. I loved having them in my company. And I loved it when they called me Grandad Naveen. I know I wasn’t their biological grandad but it felt just as special.”

Ethan could feel tears brimming in his eyes but he tried to hold them back as much as he could. “They always used to talk about their weekends with you when they came back. They really enjoyed it.”

“As did I. They definitely made me feel younger than I am. They were a joy to be around. Although I guess... they would never have been around if it wasn’t for you admitting your feelings.”

“I was wondering how long it would take you to get onto that topic.” Ethan rolled his eyes with a small chuckle.

“Nothing can ever escape me. I see everything. And I was right wasn’t I? Imagine what you’d be like now if you were still fighting your feelings for Victoria.”

“I don’t even want to imagine it. She’d probably have moved on. Got sick of waiting for me.” Ethan replied.

“She wouldn’t have Ethan. Because I believe she fell for you at the very beginning. And she waited for you to reciprocate. And you did.” Naveen smiled.

“That night, that one night where I thought I would lose her, that’s when I realised. I couldn’t lose her.”

“I’m glad a near death experience made you come to your senses. Talk about time and place.”

“I guess something had to push me.”

“Indeed. You know, I felt like a proud Dad when you two finally got together. No more hiding, you were able to just be yourselves and it was a beautiful thing to see. And it was only a matter of time before you both procreated.” Naveen gently reached out to take Ethan’s hand with as much grip as he could.

Ethan could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks gently as he stared at his hand wrapped in Naveen’s.

He knew he didn’t have long left. He was saying what he wanted to say.

“So when I’m gone.” Naveen continued. “Don’t be sad for too long. You’re allowed to grieve of course. But don’t be sad for too long. I’m glad you have others around you for when this day came. Because I don’t think you’d cope well on your own. But at least I can go happy that you’ll be okay.”

Ethan looked down at the floor as the tears fell thicker and faster. This was really it.

“I love you Naveen.” Ethan looked at him.

“I love you too Ethan. I’ll be watching over you. Imagine heaven is like a big cinema and I’m watching you on a large screen. That’s what I’ll be doing.”

Ethan laughed slightly, his vision blurred through tears.

“I can feel it pulling me in so I’m going to go now. Take care, and remember, I’ll be watching over you.” Naveen smiled weakly.

Ethan could feel the grip in his hand weakening gently, he looked up and saw Naveen taking short, slow breaths and then, he didn’t breathe anymore.

— — — — —

When Naveen found out he was terminally ill, he had already made plans for his funeral so others wouldn’t have to stress about what he wanted. Once his body had been taken away, Ethan made his way home, the sun beginning to rise in the distance.

The roads were relatively quiet and Ethan found himself in the driveway of his home in no time. He opened the front door gently, careful not to wake anyone in the house. Ethan took off his shoes and put his keys on the counter. When he looked up, he saw Victoria looking at him, sympathy and grief written all over her face. Ethan cracked when he saw her and she took him in her arms, holding him up as he sobbed.

Victoria led him to the couch and rubbed his back soothingly as he held onto her tightly.

“He’s gone, he’s actually gone.” Ethan sobbed.

“I know, I know. It’s okay.” Victoria said soothingly.

Once Ethan could feel his tears subsiding, he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“It was painless at least. He wasn’t suffering.” Ethan said after a while.

“No ending should be painful. That gives people comfort.” Victoria squeezed Ethan’s hand softly.

“What’s going on?” A voice said from the door. Victoria and Ethan looked round to see Luke and Lily in their dressing gowns and pyjamas rubbing their eyes.

“Come and sit down.” Victoria patted the sofa. Luke and Lily sat in between them. “There’s something we need to tell you.”

“Is everything ok?”

Victoria and Ethan looked at each other. Victoria knew Ethan had already been through a lot in the last few hours so between them, she silently decided to break the news to the twins.

“You remember how Grandad Naveen hasn’t been well and Daddy’s been taking care of him?” Victoria said.

“Yeah?”

“Well... Grandad Naveen passed away earlier this morning. But he’s gone to a better place now, and he will be watching over us.”

Luke and Lily looked at Victoria with sad eyes and then looked at Ethan. They threw their arms around him hugging him as tightly as they could.

“Are you okay Daddy?” Lily asked.

“Yeah I’m okay. And Mummy’s right. Grandad Naveen will be watching over us with a smile on his face.”

“Where is he now? Where do we go after we die?” Luke asked.

“Well.” Ethan said putting an arm around each of them. “Imagine heaven is like a big cinema, where people go to watch over their loved ones. That’s where Grandad Naveen told me he was going, in fact, he’s probably there right now.”

“Will there be popcorn and candy?” Lily asked.

Ethan chuckled a little. “If you believe that then yes. Unlimited amounts.”

“That sounds so cool. He can probably see us now!” Lily smiled.

“I’m going to miss him.” Luke said in a quiet voice, snuggling against Ethan’s side.

“We all are. But he wouldn’t want us to be sad for too long. He’d want us to remember all the fun times we had with him. And smile and laugh at them.” Victoria replied.

“It’s okay to be sad for a little while. But Grandad Naveen would want us to be happy.” Ethan said.

The twins nodded and cuddled up against Ethan’s side as his hand found Victoria’s.

Ethan had dreaded the day Naveen wouldn’t be around anymore. For years he often thought he’d have to deal with the grief on his own, he didn’t have anyone in life to lean on until Victoria came into his life. Now she was his shoulder to cry on, the person to express all his fears and worries to. The person to share his grief with.

Naveen was right. Ethan would be ok. His words replayed over and over in his mind. He had his family around him to help him in his grief. And that’s what matters.

At least I can go happy that you’ll be okay.

— — — — —

Told you it was rough 😢

Let me know if you would like to be tagged.

Tag list: @ohchoices @openheartfan @queencarb @genevievemd @iemcpbchoices @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @alina-yol-ramsey @stygianflood @malakemads-blog @gryffindordaughterofathena @magicalshepherdtreeprofessor @openheartfanfics @rookie-ramsey @sophxwithers @caseyvalentineramsey @romewritingshop @ethansramsey @codykosuckmytoe @mrsethanfreakingramsey @coffeeheartaddict

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #playchoices #open heart fanfiction #Naveen banerji #fanfic #angst

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hetalia-has-a-secretary · 3 years

Note

i loved the sick!child headcanons! may I ask you to explain further the situation, where the child (in first time!) decides to fake their illness to skip the studies and stay at home all alone (to play games or smth, cuz school is boring)

maybe they secretly tried to trick a thermometer and warm it up in hot water, but they had no clue how to do it right, so it became pretty obvious for parent that the child is indeed faking (like it showed more than 44 °C or 111.2 °F, which is certainly death)

how would (single) dad!allies&axis react?

Heheheheh I was hoping someone would ask this! I'm also going to do do this a bit different because I feel like the different kids are gonna try different ways to fake being sick lol

Single Dad Allies and Axis Children Fake Being Sick!

England is a bit more strict with his child. Especially because his kid tried to use a spell book to fake being sick. Accept now everything the kid eats seems to not want to stay down. And it also tastes like vinegar. In other words the kid freaked out and ran to England to apologize. England himself was more concerned about his kid thinking it was okay to use his spell book! After his kid was cured of his illness, he gave his child a rather harsh lecture about using his stuff. But when his kid started to cry he immediately softened, and he asked why they did it. When they tell him he is more than willing to forgive them, but sadly it didn't save them from having their TV privileges taken away. So long it's not something like bulling a little tough love was needed. And even though there was a punishment, england made sure his child had plenty to do. It quickly became a father child bonding time. Now if it was because of too much stress or bullying, he's taking matters in his own hand. Because no one is allowed to push around his kid and get away with it. Curses may or may not have been involved.

Allies:

America's kid is 100% gonna be trying some classic stuff. The kid took chalk, and rubbed it on his face, and then left his thermometer under hot running water. The only issue is when America came around to check his temperature, he felt the kids forehead first. Needless to say, when the chalk rubbed off on America's hand, things got dramatic real quick. At first he was mad at the kid, but took this opportunity to prank his child. So he screeched about his kids skin is crumbling, and pretended to pass out. After the kid seemed to start actually panic, America felt bad and opted for just talking about why they faked being sick. If it was to just skip school, American might get worried, and might consider actually grounding his child. But if it's because the kids nervous for whatever reason, American is going to do his best to support his child, and get them back on their feet again.

France is a gentle and patient man. So when he catches his child using his make up to give themselves a fake red nose and cheeks he was a bit concerned. He first thought it was because he spoils his child, but when he learns it was due to stress or being picked on he becomes extremely protective. He won't go as far as cursing or fighting but he's gonna be pretty verbally persuasive. However he's going to question his parenting skills if his kid seems to just be lazy. If the kids just being lazy, he will call out for help. He has a really hard time disciplining his kid. He's not use to having to be that harsh. Things only seem to turn around if the child realizes how stressed france gets.

China is 100% the type of parent to immediately pull the "have I not taught you better" card to make their child guilty. Not something he likes to do, but he didn't really consider that his child might be struggling. I mean, it really started to hit him when his kid starts to distance themselves like Japan did. That's when he started to ask how his kids been feeling at school. By the way, china's kid didn't really bother fake being sick, because they were already sick of whatever was going on at school. They did consider faking a high temp but even the kid knows that wasn't going to fool his dad. So he just sat in his room as silent as possible, playing video games. China went to check why his kids door was closed when it usually wasn't, and he just wanted to make sure everything was ok. But the world better be prepared of his kid is getting bullied. China will have that shut down so quickly it's not even funny. Even if it meant switching schools. He's really do anything for his kid, and he's trying his best.

Russia is a bit of a hit or miss. His relationship with his kid is pretty interesting. His kid is his pride and joy so when he watches his child shoving his face in the snow like a maniac, he becomes really concerned. When he figures out they're trying to avoid school by making themselves sick, he gets even more concerned. He really dislikes it when people don't get along (or disagree with him) and he takes it personally. Russia will try to do things the legal way, but if he doesn't get where he wants to be as quick as he wants, his kid might be the one pulling Russia away by his scarf. But if his kid just wants a day off from school he's the coolest about it. But will scold his kid for trying to make themselves sick. He'll also take no pity if his child actually gets sick from whitewashing themselves (whitewashing as in shoving one's face in snow, not the other thing).

Canada is a really good dad, so it kind of hurt when his child pretends to not want pancakes, and complains about a stomachache. The kid immediately regrets it though, and the both of them talk it out. Canada is also pretty okay if the kid just wants a day off, but they're not allowed to watch TV or play games. Especially after the stunt they just pulled. But if it's because of bullies, this will be the first time the kid sees their dad actually mad. Canada can understand not being seen, but bullies are another story. He might be unable to defend himself against America, but he's not gonna let his kid deal with something like that! Though his ego deflates when the school office doesn't recognize him. Next best thing is martial art classes and hopes his kid doesn't get into any fights (unless it was in "self defense").

Germany is another strict dad. But his lecture is straight to the point, then he asks them why. Especially now that there's a thermometer stuck in a hot potato. Which Germany had to try his hardest not to laugh at, because silly antics like that tickle his side,as they say. Germany will have zero tolerance for being lazy, but if it's stress or bully related he may or may not have suggested that his kid stands up for themselves. After all one should only be pushed to go so far, and if some idiot is pushing around a german kid (adopted or not) then that bully has a death wish. So yeah. Needless to say after the child's first brawl (and a week of detention) no one is gonna bother them unwarranted.

Japan is such a cool level headed dad, but also kind of knows better then to let his child shrug of his duties. The thing is, Japan's kid has never been sick before, so they thought sucking on a lollipop to make their tongue blue counted as being sick. Nice try though. Japan shrugged it off and they both had a calming talk over some tea. Kid just wanted to stay home and play games? Okay! But you're restricted to only an hour of play time. Bullies? Japan isn't as good on the subject and will let the school handle it. But if that doesn't work he's gonna go out of his comfort zone and meet up with the bullies parents himself. And if that doesn't work cops may or may not get involved.

Italy might not notice at first that his kid wasn't supposed to be home... Not until Germany came over to pick Italy up and he asked. Then Italy tried his little best to seem like a mature adult. But then he saw his kid laughing and having fun. He had to ask Germany for help in other words. Once he got done talking with his kid about why they weren't at school he was honestly at a loss. Especially if they were being bullied. Italy was so use to giving the white flag he never considered how it would affect his child. Italy got pretty depressed over it since he doesn't want his kid to be pushed around their whole life. So it very quickly became a two person goal. Now both italy and his child are practicing to stand up for themselves (possibly making Germany shed a tear or two). However if the kid is being lazy and just doesn't want to go, Germany is going to have to intervene and talk to them both about the importance of school.

#hetalia american #hetalia england #hetalia france #hetalia china #hetalia russia #hetalia germany #hetalia japan #hetalia italy #hetalia aph #Headcannons #such much texting lmao #someone please help italy #he doesn't know what hes doing at this point #big oof

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ur-not-reddie · 3 years

Text

I Want To Be Like You

chapter two

chapter one

pairing: reddie

word count: 1.1k

warnings: none.. yet ;)

i’m so so soooo sorry this took 84 years to post. but here it finally is :)

@heterophobicrichietozier <3

Over the course of the next week, Richie has sat by Eddie every single day in class. He continues to blab his mouth, Eddie often letting out soft giggles. His joy of being around Richie has morphed into something stronger, he just can’t seem to name what it is. When class ends, the two always head back to Richie’s dorm after. They usually order something to eat, hop onto Richie’s bed as Richie plays his favorite scary movie trilogies for Eddie. They sit close together, shoulders touching as there is barely enough room just for the two of them.

Eddie still hasn’t spoken a word to the other. He lets out soft hums in confusion, liking, disagreement, amusement, disgust - anything. Richie has learned the difference between Eddie’s tones of hums and how long or short he makes the vibrations in the back of his throat.

Once the movie ends, Richie shuts off his laptop and pushes it to the other end of the bed. He then grabs at Eddie’s sides suddenly and starts tickling him. The smaller male gasps and lets out echoing laughter as he squirms around.

“What do you want to do now?” Richie asks, stopping his movements. Eddie catches his breath as he thinks for a moment, humming as his brain ticks.

“We could go get ice cream,” Eddie says sheepishly, feeling surprised at his own words and voice, not expecting to open his mouth and have words fall out like that.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good- wait what the fuck?” Richie cuts himself off, sitting up quickly, thinking that maybe he might be hallucinating. “Did you just talk?” Richie asks, staring into Eddie’s eyes intently, a bit confused.

“Yeah…” Eddie’s cheeks flush bright red. Richie smiles widely, turning his body so that he’s fully facing Eddie.

“Say something again!” Richie claps excitedly. Eddie lets out more shy giggles before speaking again.

“What do you want me to say?” Eddie’s cheeks burn brighter, not remembering when the last time he actually spoke was.

“I don’t know?” Richie asks in an exhilarated type of tone. “Anything!” the smaller male giggles at Richie’s words, humming in thought, thinking carefully before opening his mouth again.

“I like your blue hair,” Eddie compliments, his cheeks flushing a deep fire engine red.

“You do?” Richie asks, furrowing his brows but a wide grin is still plastered on his lips.

“Yeah,” Eddie smiles back, his tone soft and airy. “And your tattoos…” Eddie adds, his eyes shifting downcast as he’s feeling shy about the compliments that just pour out of his mouth, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“So,” Richie continues on, gaining Eddie’s attention back. “Where are you from?”

“A stupid, small town in Maine.” Eddie sighs, rolling his eyes as all the shitty memories start to wash over his brain. Richie can sense this and decides to intervene.

“Well I’m from New York,” Richie says proudly, puffing out his chest. Eddie snaps out of his daze, tilting his head up, looking at Richie with wonder.

“Really?” Eddie asks with excitement, his smile reflecting Richie’s.

“Yup!” Richie nods, popping the ‘P’. “Specifically Brooklyn.”

“Did you like it there?” Eddie asks sheepishly, sighing gently as he tries not to panic over how much he’s talked so far.

“Loved it, actually.” Richie leans back on his hands.

“So what made you move to Minnesota?” Eddie asks, tilting his head slightly.

“Why’d you?” Richie throws the question back, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“Do you want an honest answer?”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Richie shrugs.

Eddie falls silent for a few moments before he pours his heart out to Richie unintentionally. He explains his toxic situation with his mother, being brainwashed by a religion he doesn’t believe in, his constant medications which turned out to be placebos, and his laundry list of “illnesses” and so on. At one point Eddie chokes up as he explains about not having any friends growing up or in school due to how sheltered he was. Eddie keeps ranting and rambling on, words not filtering through his brain and escaping past his lips again. The conversation then somehow turns to relationships, explaining how he doesn’t know anything, only seeing shit in movies before spilling the truth about his first kiss.

“And even my first kiss sucked because it was with a girl! And-” Eddie cuts himself off, hand slapping over his mouth as he stares at Richie with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” Richie furrows his brows together, letting out an airy chuckle.

“I’ve-” Eddie closes his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. “I’ve never talked about that before…”

“Your first kiss?” Richie asks. Eddie nods, letting out another deep breath.

“It was horrible... nothing like I expected and it wasn’t what I wanted either.” Eddie can’t bear to look Richie in the eyes, feeling beyond embarrassed and ashamed.

“Because it was with a girl?” Richie repeats Eddie’s words.

“Yeah,” Eddie sulks, nodding his head.

“So you like boys,” Richie states rather than ask. Eddie hums, nodding his head again.

“Yeah, that’s exactly it.” Eddie then finds the little courage he has and meets Richie’s gaze, Eddie’s vision starting to blur with tears.

“Aw, Eds, don’t cry.” Richie says, trying to comfort Eddie with his words as he doesn’t know how Eddie reacts to gentle, physical, light, innocent touches.

Eddie starts to cry harder at this point, throwing himself into Richie’s arms and burying his face in his neck as he sobs uncontrollably. Richie is surprised at Eddie’s sudden action, but he wraps his arms gently around Eddie’s waist and holds him like that. Eddie keeps on, starting to choke on his own hiccups as his body quivers.

“Eds,” Richie says softly, making Eddie look at him as Richie wipes away his tears. “It’s okay,” Richie flashes a comforting grin as he cups Eddie’s face. “It’s alright, I promise. I like boys too!” Eddie sniffs, looking Richie dead in his eyes.

“You do?”

“Mmhm,” Richie’s smile never leaves his lips. “I thought you knew that?”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know that?” Eddie pulls back, not realizing he’s fully sitting in Richie’s lap.

“Eds,” Richie snorts with laughter. “You can’t be serious?”

“I am!” Eddie shouts, his brows knitting together. Richie shakes his head, snickering as he grabs his laptop, pulling it closer and pointing at a sticker. It takes Eddie a couple seconds before it sinks in that it’s the bisexual flag. “Oh…” Eddie’s cheeks flush yet again, feeling embarrassed once more. Richie cups Eddie’s face and tilts upward a bit.

“With a huge preference for guys, by the way.” Richie’s smirk grows as he winks terribly. Eddie can’t help but shift his eyes down to Richie’s lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him… what Richie’s piercings would feel like against his own lips. Eddie wishes he’s brave enough to lean in, to close the little gap between him and Richie, but he can’t seem to move. “Eddie?”

“Huh?” Eddie sits up straight, looking back at Richie directly.

“Do you want to?” Richie asks in a low, serious tone. Eddie nods frantically, knowing exactly what Richie’s asking. “Are you sure?”

“Just shut up and fucking kiss me,” Eddie blurts out. Richie wastes no time and crashes their lips together, one hand pressed against Eddie’s cheek and the other on his hip. And the two stay like that… for what seems like forever.

#reddie #reddie fic #reddie fanfiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #the losers club #losers club #losers club fanfiction #losers club fanfic #richie x eddie #it 2019 #i want to be like you

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cassthecringe · 3 years

Note

Apart from Jotaro and Kakyoin (unfortunately) what are your other favourite jojo ships? I’d love to know

OHHHH POST YOUVE OPENED A CAN OF FUCKING WORMS LET ME GO OFF

i have a disease that makes me invested in the joestars’ happiness to an absurd level so bc of that a lot of ships i enjoy involve,,,one joestar,,,but there r others i swear let me just start rantingi

jonaeriwagon is soooooo so so cute it involves the most wholesome and purehearted jojo characters and it makes me smile so wide. erina and jonathan r childhood sweethearts and erina helped jonathan back on his feet after he lost EVERYTHING in the first fight against dio at the mansion. jonathan and speedwagon are best FRIENDS OKAY!! SPEEDWAGON LITERALLY CHANGES HIS ENTIRE WALK OF LIFE BECAUSE OF JONATHAN AND THE KINDNESS HE SHOWED HIM. i know erina and speedwagon didn't interact a whole lot in part 1 but like they're BEST. FRIENDS. in part 2, so much so joseph thought something was going on between them. i bring this up bc then it’s proof that this ship is full of ppl who just care for each other so much. they just adore each other and love each other and I'm crying

caejoseq is my FAVVV OKAY they're so stupid and in love. i love love love love imagining caesar and suziq falling in love slowly when he’s first training as lisalisa’s student and like they never do anything about it cause they're both so shy (yes caesar is shy bc these feelings r more genuine romance rather than sexual, unlike his other flings) but it’s obvious enough they both understand to a degree the other knows they like them sjkd;dn cuties. but then JOSEPH BARGES IN with his stupid hamon-breathing mask and his stupid blue-green eyes and his stupid lax personality combined with the moments he takes thing seriously during which is works hard as fuck/smart as fuck. he just completely sweeps them off their feet they had no fuckin warning whatsoever. so after a bunch of messy and intense pining from the both of them they eventually sit down and are like okay. we should do smth about feelings actually. so they Do and it ends with the polycule and I'm (”: smiling so wide they loved each other do u understand

AVPOL!! DO NOT GET ME STARTED OKAY it’s the survivor’s guilt and cherishing and longing for me sis!!!!!! I'm just saying both have pasts (araki said avdol’s backstory was so sad he didn't wanna put it into sdc so that’s where I'm drawing this from) that leave them focused on things other than their direct happiness/their own futures but then they connect and even though they're so fucking different they are SOOO different they're still the same on this level and i think!!! that would be everything for them finally someone who understands...listen I'm ging to go insane do you hear me. avdol loves this stupid fucking Frenchman so much because said stupid fucking Frenchman just cares so much about everything. meanwhile polnareff is in love with this fuckin god of a man who’s patient and kind and funny and a skilled enough fighter it’s stated explicitly in canon “oh avdol’s the one we need to worry about most not jotaro” like fuck polnareff is ENAMOURED WITH HIM!! AND I DONT FUCKING BLAME HIM!! and just dude. when pol thinks avdol came back to life and he starts crying tears of joy and hugs him so tightly and avdol just laughs but hugs him back imfmfjfj help. help. help. help. help. POLNAREFF LITERALLY ASKS HIM OUT ON A DATE THIS IS FUCKIN!!! CANON!!! i cant do this stupid fuckign idiots i love them

JOSUYASU!!!!!! TWO GUYS BEIGN DUDES WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT??? like listen we have such a SLEW of wholesome moments between these two the opening to the tonio episode is literally just them going on a date OKUYASU WAS GONNA FEED JOSUKE AND JOSUKE DIDNT EVEN FUCKING QUESTION IT OKAY THAT’S KINDA GAY THAT HAS ROMANTIC FUCKING UNDERTONES!! and them fighting against shigechi idk man i just love their dynamic it’s such a pleasant bro relationship and i love them. but even beyond the wholesome moments when okuyasu fucking dies josuke loses his SHIT!!! DO YOU HEAR ME HE GOES FUCKIGN INSANE!!!!! HE’S SCREAMING AND CRYING AND BEGGING OKUYASU TO WAKE UP AT THE EXPENSE OF HIS LIFE FUCKIGN HAYATO HAD TO SHRIEK AT HIM TO MOVE HIS ASS OUT OF THE WAY OF KIRA’S BOMB LIKE!! listen the recklessness and furiousness of josuke’s tactics after okuyasu “”died”” haunts me. he didn't want to live in a world without him and meanwhile okuyaus LITERALLY TRIUMPHS OVER DEATH BECAUSE HE DOESNT WANT TO LEAVE JOSUKE’S SIDE HELP ME GIRL FJKF;NDJN FUCK. fuck. so yeah i lvoe them

fugionara... any combination of this ship makes me go nuts okay okay. the dynamics in the bucci gang will forever leave me in tatters but THE ONES BETWEEN THESE THREE IN PARTICULAR. FUCK ME UP. it’s the healing it’s the animosity it’s the regret it’s the trying to figure out your own mentally ill self while also the world ur in with these ppl u love so much and I'm going crazy okay okay okay. idk how to quite put my feelings for them in worlds i just have a lot of them and they are fuckin. overhwelming. just narancia for example meant EVERYTHING to fugo as evidence by purple haze feedback (literally every other paragraph is a flashback) and the only time giorno cries in the anime is when narancia dies. meanwhile fugo saved narancia’s life and giorno knew when to take narancia seriously as opposed to a joke. and then THE WHOLE DISCUSSION ABOUT GRIEF FUGO AND GIORNO HAVE IN PURPLE HAZE FEEDBACK? listen something about these three make me go insane and feral

foolymes like okay. okay. I'm shaking like a dog trying not to go overboard on this justification just listen to me. hermes and jolyne first find someone to trust in prison in each other. jolyne cares abt her enough that she first learns how to use stone free’s string-on-a-telephone ability bc she wanted to watch over hermes. hermes loves nd respects jolyne that after she wakes up from getting a stand shes like “hm. wonder where jolyne is” and goes to find her before all that bullshit happened just hey okay LISTEN TO ME!! and then they get foo they save her it’s just like fucking kakyoin they give her another chance and they show her what relationships are supposed to be like (fulfilling) they enjoy her company and make her laugh and she makes them laugh in return ohmy god EVERYTHING FOO FIGHTERS DID WAS FOR JOLYNE AND HERMES DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!!! the marilyn mansion debt collector arc. the kiss of love and revenge arc. foo fighter’s death. I'm going to eat rocks in an attempt to stop feeling oh my god JOLYNE DIDNT EVEN BELEIVE FOO FIGHTERS WAS DYING AND THEN SHE GOT HYSTERICAL LIKE “BUT WE CAN JUST REMAKE YOU RIGHT WE HAVE YOUR STAND DISC??” SHE DOESNT WANT HER TO GOOO HELP ME HELP ME. I'm in tatters these three girls loved each other so fucking much they just wanted each other safe and they DESERVED to be safe and happy together but araki is fucking evil

jotaweather I KNOW THIS IS A CRACK SHIP I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW DONT FUCKIGN LOOK AT ME JUST HEAR ME OUT. jotaro and weather r both of similar demeanor that is quiet soft-speaking intimidating strong big aura of sadness coming from them. both have powerful stands and both had real fucked up luck in the love department. i also hc both to be autistic so that’d be another similarity. i jus think them settling down together after everything went down in a stone ocean au would be very soft and sweet yknow? they wouldn't even necessarily start it off in a romantic sense but they just take the time to try and heal with each other and eventually it just kinda veers that way. yeah

gyjo for OBVIOUS reasons like are you serious? gyro changed johnny’s fucking lfie from the SECOND they first interact johnny begins to push himself and tries to reach further/go further. and in turn johnny shows gyro you cant always be a wet blanket you need to take a stand this both helps his resolve to save the kid AND helps him to take the measures necessary to get to his goal. like gyro would not have been able to find johnny in the “who shot johnny joestar?” arc if he hadn't gone through, say, the ring roadagain arc with johnny first. listen man their relationship is literally the catalyst for this whole part it’s the driving force i just. they love each other they love each other thank you goodnight I'm emo

yasugap is just so so so so sweet it makes me so happy,,like okay josuk8 literally has a daydream where all that happens is he gives yasuho some candy and she eats it and is like “aw josuke this is so good thanks!” and she smiles at him and that’s IT THAT’S THE DAYDREAM 😭 listen they just love each other so much and i am emo. they literally SAVED EACH OTHER OKAY LIKE yasuho pulls him from the dirt and like she mentioned during the flashback chapter with the hairpin and her dad, it was also the other way around....saving josuke also saved herself and just LISTEN TO ME. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. it’s a very sweet and healthy relationship and i hope to god araki makes it canon please sir ill bite you

anyway yeah these are the main main ones ? that i ship ship. like you'll get me excited if u mention them. anyway this post has gone on long enough so I'm gonna end it here by saying i really do have a thing where the relationship focuses on healing/helping one or both parties to save/improve themselves

#THIS IS SO MESSY IM SORRY I DIDNT PROOFREAD ANYTHING #uhm but yeah these guys. drive me nuts!#jjba #jojo spoilers #nothing too heavy but just in case #cass cries #iwannagrill

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rons-hermiones · 3 years

Text

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Thirty Nine

“At the time we just don’t find it-uh, productive to keep Miss Granger here. I talked to a memory specialist and he thought it best that she try and recover somewhere more familiar, comfortable. That maybe it would do her some good.” He told the couple, “Anyhow, it’s pretty much a waiting period now. Of course she’ll need to come back for check-ins or we’ll send someone to her because traveling isn’t very practical. Until magic can be performed, it's up to her to heal a bit.” Jamison finished.

Arthur nodded, while Molly said an “alright.”

“Very well.” He said writing something on some parchment before looking up again, “Unfortunately Miss Granger cannot floo nor side-along at this time. We can arrange a car through the ministry, what is the address the same as the one we pulled from the archives? Hampstead?” He asked unknowingly.

Without missing a beat, Molly spoke, “She’ll be coming home with us. To our house in Devon, the Burrow. I’m sure my husband can help to arrange suitable transportation for Hermione, right Arthur?” Molly said, though it was not up for debate.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be sure to owl Kingsley.” He agreed with his wife.

Jamison flicked his eyes between the two, but didn’t dare question them. “Alright.” He agreed. “Now, shall I tell her or will the two of you?”

Molly opened her mouth, but Arthur soon jumped in, “Our son will.” He said, eyeing his wife, who at first looked shocked but then slowly began to nod.

“I’ll start putting together the discharge plan we’ve been compiling this past week.” He said walking off.

“I’ll go tell Ronnie.” Arthur said, kissing his wife's cheek.

“Wait!” She called, stopping her husband.

He turned immediately, brow furrowed as he did so.

“I know he’ll want to know about lessons- Hogwarts. I’m positive Hermione will too, all of them actually.” She thinks aloud.

Arthur nods in agreement. He knows upon the news of Hermione’s homecoming, a million questions will come up from his son to ensure he is at her side every step of the way.

“This goes against my better judgement, but Hermione can’t go back until we know more about her condition and how to go about it, she obviously can’t go back to Hogwarts.” The woman sighs, “I know Dumbeldore said he strongly advised us to keep Ronnie home to help and I think it’ll be best.” Her tone is almost reluctant.

Her husband places a hand on her shoulder and begins rubbing it gently, sensing her conflict.

“Ginny and Neville should return. I owled Augusta and she agreed, but maybe we could see if they could floo home on weekends?” She suggested.

Arthur nodded, “And Harry?” He asked next, “he has to attend lessons with Dumbledore.”

“Albus suggested he could floo back and forth as well. He’ll want to see Hermione and Ron more than Neville and Ginny, I reckon. Maybe he can just floo in for lessons? He can collect his and Ronnie’s work to do at home. I’m sure they’d focus better together.”

“Okay, we can ask Harry what he wants to do to Mollywobbles, he could have an idea.” He reminds her.

With a soft kiss to his wife’s hair, he gives her a small smile before turning and beginning the familiar path to Hermione’s room.

Upon his arrival, he finds Ron how he usually does.

Leaning over a sleeping Hermione, whispering sweet nothings, promises, whilst tenderly stroking her hand or cheek.

“Son.” Arthur calls from the doorway, causing Ron to turn.

Upon seeing the young boy's face, Arthur noticed his blue eyes crystallized and were shining with tears.

The look of concern across his father’s face is evident to Ron, even with blurry vision. He sniffles harshly as swipes at his eyes.

“She’s not sleeping well. Nightmares I suppose. Healer’s said they’re lowering some doses on her potions.” He told his dad with a shrug, acting as if it didn’t affect him, when they both knew it did.

Clearing his throat, Arthur stepped forward, “well, I suppose I have an idea why.” He states.

Ron’s brow furrows in confusion.

“They’re discharging her son. She’s going home.”

He should be happy, shouldn’t he?

Jumping for joy and thanking his lucky stars that she’ll no longer be confined to these stark white walls and sterile smelling room.

But for some reason he can’t be, not completely anyway.

Like this entire experience, he felt bittersweet.

A good thing constantly eclipsed by pain, hurt, and a hundred other worries.

‘She’s going home.’

That’s what his father had said.

But where is home now?

“She can’t go home Dad.” He reminded me.

“But Ron, the healers-“

“No, I mean, her home, her house in Hampstead, she can’t go back there. She can’t go back to her parents. If I don’t even know where home is for her, then I doubt she does either. Her mind is probably working faster than usual dealing with all this shite. I just-“ his words catch in his throat, “I’m happy she’ll be out of here, but I don’t want to hurt her anymore by reminding her of things she doesn’t have anymore.” He whispers sadly.

The older man's heart breaks for both his son and the orphaned girl in front of him.

“Haven’t your mother and I taught you anything Ronnie?” He stepped forward and clapped a hand onto his son's shoulder. “Home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling.”

Ron became breathless at the words, because his dad was right, of course he was.

“Sometimes it’s hurt, or it’s comfort. It’s growing and learning. It’s tears and laughter. But above anything else, it’s love.”

He stays silent, taking it all in.

“Think of Harry. Home to him isn’t Privet Drive, it’s the Burrow or Hogwarts, because that’s where the people who love him most are. Me, your mother, your brothers, Ginny, Hermione.”

Ron nods after a moment, “you’re right dad.”

A small smile ghosts over his lips, “and if there’s one thing good I’ve come to realize through all this pain, it’s that I know there’s no shortage of love you can give to her.” He pauses, eyes boring into Ron’s. “So give it.”

Ron’s hand absently squeezes Hermione’s.

“Give it everything you have.”

...

It’s when Ron sees a tear slide down a sleeping Hermione’s face that he’s decided he’s had enough.

He silently slips away and calls for a healer.

“Hello son, I heard someone called for Jamison, but he’s attending to other matters. I'm Healer Evangeline. I’ve been working closely on Miss Granger’s case.” The brunette woman says, extending a hand to Ron.

He takes it quickly, “Ron Weasley.” He says.

“Okay Ron, what seems to be your concern?”

“Jamison told me they’re starting to lower some potion doses, getting ready to discharge her, but she isn’t sleeping well, you see?” He points to her scrunched up face, “she’s been whimpering and crying and I-I don’t know what to do. I just- please- I can’t-“

Evangeline can sense him becoming hysterical, “relax son.” She soothes, patting his shoulder momentarily. “We’ve lowered her dreamless sleep a bit, but I reckon the look of pain is from something else.”

“What’s that?” He asks anxiously.

“A lot of pain relieving methods require spell work you see, something Miss Granger cannot undergo. Therefore, we’ve been giving her some Muggle medication, painkillers they’re called.”

“Painkillers?” He whispers questionably.

“Yes, I assure you, they’re not dangerous, only if she’s one them too long. That’s why it’s important we continuously lower the doses until she can get off them safely. It’s unfortunately a very painful process.”

“Okay.” He breathes, but still isn’t satisfied, “okay, so what can I do? What can we do?” He asks next.

“I’m sorry Ron but it’s out of our hands, she'll have to fight. You’ll have to be there for her. But from what I’ve heard, there’s no shortage of fight within her.”

“That’s right.” Ron whispers, caressing Hermione’s calf gently.

“I’ve also heard, there’s been no shortage of you attending to her. She appreciates it. We all do.” Evangeline smiles softly.

He offers a slightly pained smile in return. Focus never drifted from Hermione.

“Wake her son. Tell her she’ll be leaving soon. Ask her how she feels. She’ll want to talk to you rather than some healer. I’ll be back in an hour.” The healer tells him as she walks to the door.

“Thank you.” Ron says, “what did you say you specialized in again?” But when he turned the woman was gone.

He supposes it was a question for another time, because right now he had to wake Hermione. Tell her she was leaving. Make sure she knows everything will be okay, even if it takes some time.

He knows that now, it’ll take time. He’ll have to wait.

No matter how sick and tired of waiting he is.

“Darling.” He whispers gently, hand on her cheek, shaking her lightly.

A groan escapes past her lips, giving Ron the go ahead to continue trying to wake her.

“Mione.” He says a bit louder, thumb making its way down her jaw.

She whimpers again, making concern etch it’s way onto Ron’s face. Behind her closed lids he can see her eyes moving behind them as a tear escapes.

There’s no doubt she’s having a nightmare and he just can’t bear to see her in any more pain.

So, he leans in close, lips almost brushing her ear and promises her everything’s okay.

“Wake up Mione, it’ll be alright when you do. You’re not there anymore, come back, here, with me.” He tells her.

Thankfully, she shoots open seconds later as she sits up, stiff as a board in bed.

The gasp that leaves her pierces his heart, Ron can’t be sure if it’s from the jolting movements or the dream itself. Maybe both.

Instantly, he reaches for the water at her bedside and coaxes her into taking a few sips. She does, then collapses back onto him. Her back pressed against his chest.

As Ron holds her, so lovingly, so tenderly, Hermione does her best to forget the things plaguing her mind.

She feels she’s on an endless loop of a never ending battle. A losing one at that.

Awake, she’s overcome by a sense of loss, emptiness, and pain. When she’s asleep, her mind is overcome with horrible memories. Those of mad witches and painful spells.

There’s no escape.

When she’s with Ron she feels different though. It doesn’t go away, not completely, and she doesn’t think it ever will. But she feels almost lighter in a way.

“I need to tell you something.” She hears a gravely whisper in her ear as he squeezes her tighter to his chest.

She nods, letting him know she’s with him.

He stays silent for a moment, but soon speaks, almost reluctantly. “They’re letting you leave Hermione. You’re being discharged you can-“ he stops, “you can get out of here.” He says shakily.

And she’s not daft.

Even with the dark clouds rolling through her thoughts, she’s still insightful, always searching for answers.

She notices how Ron purposely doesn’t use the word home because where was home to her anymore?

Did she even have one?

Did she even deserve one?

She wonders if her parents know. If when they moved on to the great beyond they somehow found out who their daughter really was.

A liar.

She lied about Ron’s rat. She lied about Cedric. She told her parents that she needed to miss their ski trip in fifth year because of exams, not because Mr. Weasley nearly died at the hands of a muggle-born slayer. She had written to them that Harry’s godfather was well. She even lied to her mother, saying the reason she was wincing so much the summer before sixth year was because of a broom accident and not because she avoided a fatal curse.

Wherever they are, they probably hate her, and don't even know who she is.

But to be fair, Hermione isn’t exactly sure who she is either anymore.

“W-where?” She mutters.

She isn’t sure where she belongs.

“The Burrow. I’ll be there, alright? I’m not leaving you.” Ron tells her softly.

She nods into his shoulder as his grip tightens around her. The action makes her wince before she can help it. Ron abruptly pulls away, like he’s been burned.

“P-pain.” She says, biting her lip to suppress a cry.

She wishes she could say more.

Try and tell Ron that it feels like someone is stabbing her with a million tiny needles poking their way from underneath her skin. Or sometimes it feels heavy, like Grawp is sitting on her body, crushing and suffocating her. On occasion it’s so bad she feels like she can’t see, can’t even think. Like the physical pain has nowhere to go but claw its way into her brain.

Times like those she likes to believe her parents are alive. That she and Ron have been in a relationship since fourth year. That Voldemort never returned, that Sirius and Harry’s parents were alive.

That’s what her comfort is now. Ron. Harry. Delusions.

And if Hermione Granger was one thing before all this, she was very practical. Never one to waste time daydreaming, fantasizing, but now, it’s her only escape.

...

They take a car to The Burrow.

Hermione knows enough to know she isn’t in the right condition to apparate or floo at the moment, but one thing she can’t help but wonder about is the bruises on her arms.

They could easily be expelled with a simple spell. One she could perform herself if she had her wand.

She’ll need to ask Ron about that later.

Upon her arrival, Molly had a space set up for Hermione in the corner of the living room.

There’s a floral curtain drawn, giving her privacy. There’s a cot tucked in between a bookshelf and chair. There’s water on the bedside table and a few tablets.

They’ve stuck Hermione in a wheelchair. Saying crutches aren’t doable with her arm broken as well. Again, it dawns on her why they don’t just use skele gro, but she does know the potion isn’t all that effective anyway.

“I thought it best you stay down here. Arthur and I are just down the hall and it’s close to the kitchen and the loo.” Molly told her.

But while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would be on the same floor, Ron was in the attic.

So far away.

However, she doesn’t want to appear weak or clingy so when Molly asks if that’s alright, she nods, and sits on the cot.

Hermione doesn’t even realize it’s nightfall until she peers out the window and sees hundreds of glittering stars shining back at her. It’s a comforting sight.

At the Manor she was caged in like an animal. No windows. No fresh air. No light, save for the candle Cissy had set.

Ron lingers by the window sill, seeming to not know what to say or do, but not wanting to leave either.

And she doesn’t want him to go. The way the moonlight is hitting his face, making his blue eyes sparkle and copper hair shine, well, she wouldn’t be surprised if it was a dream.

“You must be exhausted dear. Take these,” Molly drops a few tablets onto the table next to her, “and get some rest. You deserve it.”

Hermione opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, of course.

“Hush, there will be plenty of time for that tomorrow. I know you must have a hundred questions.”

And she does.

Did they get Bellatrix? Greyback? Her home? How long was she gone for? Where’s Harry? Lessons? Was Cissy alright? Did Draco ever tell Ron or Harry about her? Why is she in so much pain? Did they forget the pain potion? Why was she on muggle medication? Where’s her wand? Is it stupid that she’s thinking about Lavender?

Mrs. Weasley nudges her back and begins to tuck her in like she’s a small child. Next, she holds out the glass of water and coaxes her into taking the pills. After, she kisses her brow and bids her ‘goodnight’.

Ron lingers by the window.

“Come along Ronnie, Hermione needs her rest.” And the tone of Mrs. Weasley’s voice, the lifting of her eyebrow, Ron knows it isn't a suggestion. It’s a demand.

He looks longingly at the brunette, not wanting to leave her, but he knows there’s no way his Mum would let him stay down here with her. It’s silly to think that sitting vigil at her bedside in St.Mungo’s was a better alternative than this.

“Ron.” She scolds again, drawing the curtain.

“Goodnight Mione. You know where we’ll be if you need us.” He says gently, squeezing her hand on his way around her bed.

There’s more he wants to say. Wants to tell her he wants to stay, tell her he’ll be down soon once his parents have gone to bed, but his Mum’s right there.

He just hopes the longing look he throws to Hermione before he leaves is enough.

But if there’s one thing Ron knows, he doesn’t think anything he does will ever be enough for Hermione to know how much he loves her.

...

The Burrow is quiet.

Too quiet.

Hermione doesn’t remember falling asleep, but right now she's awoken by complete and utter silence.

She supposes it’s better than being startled out of sleep by nightmares.

“Hermione.” She hears a familiar voice call.

“Mione.”

It’s unmistakably Ron, but when she looks around, he’s nowhere to be found.

Standing from Ginny’s bed she peers out the window and notices a silhouette outside, underneath the old Oak Tree. Looking to her right, she sees Ginny sound asleep under her mass of blankets and decides to slip out of the room.

She takes the stairs one by one, mindful of the creak on the fifth one from the bottom. Successfully skipping it, she soon slinks out the kitchen door, closing it softly behind her.

“Ron?” She calls out, she can’t see him in the dark.

“Over here!” She hears his faded voice call out.

Hermione works her to his general direction, ignoring the chill that runs up her spine.

Finally, she reaches the old Oak Tree, but there’s no Ron in sight.

“Ron?” She whispers.

“Other side.” His voice calls, sounding like it’s right behind her.

Working her way around the trunk, she finally makes out a silhouette.

“Now what have you possibly called me all the way out here for?” Hermione asks, but she amused more than annoyed.

“To play of course.”

The voice isn’t Ron’s.

“You still like to play, don’t you Muddy?”

Suddenly, Bellatrix Lestrange morphs from Ron into herself, like she was polyjuice as him.

“Your parents had so much fun! I think it’s time they tell you about it. Crucio!”

A terrible pain rips through her insides as she expels an ear piercing scream.

Ron reaches her before his parents do. He practically flies down the attic steps.

It’s been what, forty minutes? And the nightmare’s have already started? He thinks.

In the small time he sprints to the living room he does take a moment to curse himself out for not sneaking out sooner. He was planning on giving it an hour.

“No! Please no!” Hermione is sobbing as she trashes wildly in her bed, screaming escaping her mouth between words.

“Hermione!” He yells, pushing past his parents and sliding behind her on the bed.

He grasps her from behind, crashing her into his chest as he stills her movements. Her cries don’t silence, but her screams turn into whimpers. He begins stroking her hair as he leans in close to her ear, much like he would at the hospital.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. We’re at the Burrow, no one is going to hurt you, love.” He whispers. “Come on Mione.” He pleads.

And maybe she can hear him, because she stills as her eyes flutter open. They’re red and bloodshot, but he still thinks she’s beautiful.

When her brown eyes connect with him she begins to sob, succumbing to the mental exhaustion and falling back onto him. He holds her tighter and silently shoo’s his Mum and Dad away, who thankfully oblige.

After she cried for five minutes with no stopping, he decided he had enough.

“We tried Mum’s way, now we try mine.” He said to himself as he lifted her up.

And she must’ve been out of it because she simply burrows into his chest with no questions and he carries her up the stairs.

He places her on his orange blankets as he pushes Harry’s camp bed from Christmas so it’s touching his own.

He tucks her in nicely as he settles next to her and grabs her hand.

“Please try and sleep, I’m here now.” He whispers so softly it makes her insides melt.

She closes her eyes, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of security and comfort. Something she hasn’t felt in ages.

As sleep overcomes her again she can’t help but whisper one thing.

“Th-thank you.”

“Always.” She swears she hears back.

#Ron Weasley #Ron and Hermione #ron x hermione #rons-hermiones come find me #Hermione Granger #romione fanfic #romione #hp fanfic #hp #sixth year

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