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#it's another one of those “I didn't want to make them sad they just came out this way”
littlelightfish · 5 hours
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Holm nation... I have a heartbreaking announcement to make.
We didn't get to see this panels animated.
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(I wanted to see Laios helping him, this one isn't the one this post is all about)
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I feel it's important to his character enough that Kui decided to dedicate three panels about how he aproaches and resurrects Kabru.
He is used to resurrecting people, his party sucks at keeping themselves alive. He walks up to Kabru's corpse with a worried look on his face. Then he kneels besides him and takes a second to process what he is seeing. He is seeing a young man, Kabru, dead. It makes him feel unseasy, a bit of shock that he can't take the luxury of process at the moment. He doesn't want to look, so he closes his eyes and focuses on his spell. He is realizing he is the only one alive from his party (he doesn't know where Mick is or how he is). He is the last one standing. The reality of it all slaps him in the face.
The panel of him just... looking at the mess Kabru's corpse is was just... It was important. It talked about him as a character. "I'm not doing this because I want to, but because I have to". He doesn't has time for emotions. He has a job to do.
It's just three panels. But they provide lots of context between the ones that came before and after.
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He doesn't just rubs Kabru's head because he's being afective. He does it because he cares. He does it out of relief. "As long as I'm here, any of you'll be dying soon. And I'll always be here. Don't worry." He is far from being OK after all this. Marillier died, Daya died, Kuro died, Kabru died, Rin died, Mick probably died too (but he doesn't saw it). He... By the time he was the only one standing, the fight was over, and he could alredy resurrect them. He wants to feel sad. To worry, to be concerned, to mourn. But he can't. It isn't necessary.
He is a cleric. He for sure has a notion of dead way different than anyone and feels a certain way about resurrection. "Dying is dying, even if you resurrect." It's a bug at the corner of his mind, he doesn't pay it any attention. He gets resurrected multiple times, he is gratefull he is alive. But seeing all his friends dead? And the most of them mutilated? Covered in their own blood? He has this desire to mourn. To cry the loss. To panic. "They are all dead."
He knows they'll come back. He has to make them come back. So he does. And they are alive. But they weren't a few seconds ago. And he just plays it off, he puts his calm face on as soon as there is another party member alive that could ask him what happened that it disturbed him so much. He throws all those sad feelings under the rug and focuses at the task at hand.
They're going to be ok, he just has to do his job: bring them back from death. They shouldn't even be dead. But they are. And he's going to fix it. No point on feeling sad about them dying if they can be alive soon!
I think the concern that the anime puts here it's something that could come close to what he feels inside. Those seconds are the only ones we see him looking something akin to worried for his friends.
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But then...
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His worry vanishes in seconds. The moment Kabru revives, he does it in such a "Kabru" way, that he tells himself: "This is fine, they're going to be back soon, nothing to worry about, I just have to hurry". He wants them all back to live. We know for sure that in his priority list there wasn't any "reviving Toshiro's party members first". He was going to make sure all his party, all his friends, were alive before even thinking of resurrecting other people if he still had the magic.
Those three panels they didn't animate are something that was there for a reason. To give depth to Holm. This last episode is definitely the one in wich he shines the most. He isn't the main character at all this episode, but he does the most important stuff on the background. He revives them all. This all lack of something if you don't show what Kuy drew on those panels.
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Here he just... goes to work. He says: "lemme handle it" and he does. No concern, no worry, no, nothing. He just does. No thoughts.
It makes me sad. Those panels were important. :(
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lostfirefly · 3 days
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If you sit down with this old clown, take that frown and break it, before the evening's gone away, I think that we could make it
I probably won’t surprise anyone, but the idea came to me in a dream. In it, two girls were sitting at a bar and one of them wanted to meet Buggy (I'm serious!). So welcome to another dream! :) English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)
Buggy and F/GN Reader - Masterlist is here.
Description: Your sister took you to a bar so she could meet someone. She saw Buggy, but he clearly showed interest in you.
Warnings: Nerd people are mentioned here. I have nothing against people who are passionate about something. The basis is the reaction of people who do not understand other people's hobbies.
Words: 1815
Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots
The title is taken from “I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You” by Tom Waits.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
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GIF by vinnymauro
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“Why did you bring me here?” You twirled a glass of wine in your hands. 
“Well, because I'm tired of being alone. It's time to get back into the game after we broke up with that asshole.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and scanned the entire room with her eyes. “There are no decent candidates yet.”
“That's all very nice to hear, but why do you need me here?” You took a sip of wine and snacked on cheese. 
“I’m afraid I need a co-pilot, Y/N.” Your sister chuckled and scratched her nose.
“We've been sitting here for two hours and the only options that have come to us are those pot-bellied weirdos over there.” You carefully pointed your little finger at the table where a group of chubby guys in glasses sat, endlessly discussing aliens and yeties. 
“They’re not that weird.” Your sister tilted her head slightly. 
“Not weird? Seriously? One of them came up wearing a t-shirt with the inscription that said “take a ride on my flying saucer.” You laughed. “Sorry, but I didn't sign up for a such kind of date.”
“Well, if there are no other options, I'll choose the one with the Bigfoot t-shirt.” Your sister shrugged and opened new bottle of wine. 
“I'll hope he's not as hairy as his pet on his clothes.” You giggled and poured some wine into your glass. 
“You're such a bitch.” Your sister shook her head and took a piece of cheese.  
Suddenly a loud laughter echoed through the bar. Everyone sitting in the bar instantly turned towards the sound.
“Lord, who is laughing so hard?” You turned around, craning your head. “Apparently that tall guy at the bar.”
“Wow! He’s cute! Why didn't we notice him before?!!” Your sister looked in the same direction. 
“Seriously? Are you sure we're looking at the same guy? Blue hair, red nose, makeup on his face.” You nodded your face towards the guy sitting at the counter. His laughter seemed to shake the walls of the entire establishment.
“Yes. He’s cute!” Your sister kicked your leg under the table. “Go and find out from him whether he’s sitting here with someone or alone.” 
“Why me?” You look at her.  
“You're my co-pilot, Y/N. Or do you want me to start playing the poor abandoned girl card.” Your sister made a sad face. “I might even cry.”
“Okay!” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck. Why is it always me?” 
You muttered under your breath, took a glass, stood up and headed towards. You cleared your throat and gently patted the blue-haired man on the shoulder. “Hey, you. Hello!”  
“What?” He turned sharply and looked you with his green eyes up and down. 
“Nothing. My sister liked you.” You took a sip, realizing that you had said something stupid.
“And what?” The man look at you questionably. 
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Go up to her and say hello like all normal people.” 
“No! I’m busy!” He turned around and poured some whiskey. 
“You’re busy? How? What are you doing? You just sit and drink.” You threw up your hands.
“It's called being busy, brownie! Do you see?” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, grinned and poured himself a glass of whiskey in one gulp. “So, sorry, my love.” 
“Fuck you! Asshole!” You returned to the table, sat down and groaned. 
“So? Will he come? Y/N, please, say he'll come!” Your sister looked at you with hope. “He's so cool when he grumbles.” She smiled slightly.
“No, he won’t. He’s kind of strange, to be honest. He’s sitting there alone, and by the way, he wears more makeup than you and me combined.” You leaned your elbows on the back of the chair and looked towards the bar counter again.
“Y/N, go and ask what he is doing? Maybe he will come..” Your sister took another sip of wine, looked at you with pleading eyes and lightly tapped her palms on the table.
“Why me? You liked him, so you go! You made a hand gesture, sending your sister to the bar.
“I’m shy.” She stared at the table and began to move her finger along the glass. “You’re better at talking than me. Y/N, plee-e-e-a-a-ase!” 
“Why do I always fall for this? Okay! Site here.” You groaned, stood and came to the bar counter. 
You tapped the man on the shoulder. “Hey, you! Hello again!”
“You again?” He looked at you, and it seemed to you for a second that he was glad to see you. “Now what?” 
“Yeah, me. Well... My sister… My sister is still sitting there.” You carefully pointed towards your table. “And still likes you.” 
“And my question is still, “so what?” The man turned to you. 
“Listen, are you always such a rude person?” You squinted your eyes and took a sip. 
“Great!” He laughed loudly. “Your sister is sending you to me, and I’m the rude one in this situation!” 
“Look, okay, I admit it. I'm not very good at being a co-pilot. To be honest, I have no idea how to do this correctly.” Your chuckled. 
“That's noticeable, brownie!” He flicked your nose and winked.
“Is it difficult for you to spare 5 minutes with us? Say hello, say a joke and then say goodbye. Her boyfriend dumped her, by the way. And for some strange reason she liked you.” You softened your voice.  
“Still my answer is no!” The man turned back to the bar.
“Ass!” You muttered under your breath and was about to come back to your sit.  
“Hey, wait!” The man shouted at you. “What's the name?” 
“Whose name? Sister?”
“No! Your. What's your name?” He looked at you and took a sip. 
“Y/N. And you?” You squinted one eye.  
“Buggy.”  
“Well, hi, Buggy.” You smiled slightly. 
“Well, hi, Y/N.” He winked at you again.  
“Won't you come over?” You nodded again towards the table.
“Sorry, brownie, no!” Buggy shook his head and laughed again.  
“Okay!” You exhaled. “Enjoy your drink!”
You returned to the table and shrugged. “I'm a lousy co-pilot, sister. He won't co~.” 
"So, girls.” Suddenly, a white-gloved hand slammed a bottle of whiskey onto the table. “Are we relaxing?" 
“YES!!!” Your sister shouted happily, and immediately covered her mouth with her hand, not expecting such volume from herself. 
“Yes. Relaxing.” You looked at Buggy and quietly whispered “thank you”.
Buggy winked at you again. “I thought I'd rather keep you company than these weirdos in weird t-shirts.” He placed his hand on the back of your chair. “And I’m Buggy, by the way. So. What are you talking about?” 
“About various things.” Your sister said, started twirling her hair on her finger. 
“Come on, brownie... and... well.. brownie’s sister, tell me about yourselves.” Buggy poured himself a glass of whiskey and gently placed his hand on your back. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and smiled slightly. 
“Oh, I work at the police station.” Your sister took a sip of the wine without taking her eyes off Buggy. “Well, you know. Administrator. I register cases and everything.”
“Sounds good. What about you, brownie?” Buggy moved his hand over your back a little lower. 
“Nothing to tell, to be honest. I just quit my two jobs, and now I’m celebrating my freedom.” You blushed a little, feeling his hand started stroking your back. 
He took the bottle, turned it over in his hands and smelled it. “You can't celebrate by drinking some crap.” Buggy called the waiter and ordered another bottle of wine. He placed your open bottle on the weirdo’s table. “Guys, this is for you. The best wine in this bar. Enjoy your evening.”  
Buggy chuckled strangely, sat down and moved his chair closer to you. You could smell him, smelling like a mixture of rum and whiskey, and musk.
“Okay, okay.” You glanced at him. “You asked about us. It's our turn! Tell me, what do you do in life?” 
“Me?” He looked at you, pointing his finger at himself. “You don't know who I am?” 
“Sorry, Buggy.” You took his bottle of whiskey and poured some into your glass, squinting your eyes. “But I have no idea who you are.” 
“Na-ah! First, that's my bottle. And I'm gonna get it back.” He smirked and took the bottle from your hands. “Y/N! My brownie, I'm the genius and famous Buggy the Clown!” 
You drank whiskey and choked. “Fuck, it's strong.” You wiped your lips. “Who are you? The clown? From the circus? From the real circus?” You slightly turned your body towards him.
“The realest and greatest circus in the world!” Buggy placed his hand on your waist.  
“So what?” Your sister asked and ran her foot along his leg. “Do you have acrobats, jugglers and mimes there?” 
“Exactly, brownie’s sisters!” Buggy pointed his glass at her. “The best acrobats, the best mimes, the best jugglers! You should go to my show. Especially you, brownie!” He flicked your nose.
“Me?” You tried not to notice his hand on your waist. “Why me? Sorry, Buggy the Clown, I don't like circuses!” 
“You just weren't in my circus, baby!” Buggy winked at you and slowly moved his hand to your hip. 
“Damn, I'm out of whiskey. Waiter. Hey! Are they deaf or something? I'll be right back. Brownie.” He stood up and winked at you. “And.. brownie's sister.”
“How do you do it, Y/N?” Your sister laughed, taking a sip of her wine.
“What am I doing?” You raised one eyebrow.
“I noticed the guy, and he will leave with you. Probably.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and looked around.
“He seems okay. He's even cute.” You shrugged your shoulders and glanced at Buggy, who was actively gesticulating and laughing at the bar counter. “Or maybe he’s flirting with everyone like that.”
"No way! He liked you!" Your sister stuck her tongue out at you.
“Sorry...” You answered sadly.
“Oh, fuck it. He's yours. I'll go meet the yeti.” Your sister took the glass and went to the next table.
“Hey! Where is your sister?” Buggy asked in surprise as he came back.
“She went to see that dude who's wearing a yeti t-shirt. Why are you asking? Miss her?” You immediately straightened your hair, placed your hand on the table and rested your chin on your palm.
“No, brownie. I miss you already.” Buggy plopped down next to you and moved his face close to yours. “So, what are your plans for today?” He stroked your shoulder with his fingers.
You moved even closer to his face and winked. “Buggy the Clown, it seems like you promised to show me your circus. But first…” You carefully ran your finger along his leg. “You will buy me a brownie.”
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baluciarz · 5 months
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"can't take this anymore" - continues to take it
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byunpum · 9 months
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Tsa·zìskrrmipaw
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Pair: Neytiri x Y/N human baby x Sully family
Warning: Mention of dead, soft moments, mama neytiri <3
Request: (Anon) I love how you describe neytiri being our mother. Can I asked if you could react or make a small oneshot about how neytiri would adopt us.
AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 2
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Neytiri learned of your existence when your mother gave birth 1 year after neteyam's birth. It was big news in the clan. Mo'at attended the entire birth, as norm could not do anything else. Your mother had complications with the delivery, and she was losing a lot of blood. And the baby could not come out. After a labor of more than 5 hours, the woman died leaving mo'at with no choice but to deliver the baby on her own, asking eywa to keep the newborn alive. Norm was at her side, helping her, ready to provide oxygen to the newborn as soon as it came out of the woman's womb. To his surprise, just as mo'at pulled you out and the woman wiped the baby's nose with her hand and tapped the baby's back to make it respond. All this happened very fast, norm hear how the baby takes a breath and starts to cry. As if she could breathe air easily. Mo'at looks curiously at the man, placing the baby on her chest trying to pacify the baby.
After about 5 minutes and norm monitoring the baby, he notices how the lack of air began in the newborn. Putting on a special oxygen mask that your mother had prepared for you, he watched you breathe. Norm wanted to check something in his head, he thought it couldn't be true, but he wasn't wrong. After 10 minutes of letting you breathe human oxygen, he removed the mask and saw how the newborn kept looking to the sides, very calm. This child had the respiratory system of the na'vi. He almost fainted, how could this be possible.
Norm took it upon himself to investigate, and what a surprise he got. Your mother was a doctor, she had been one of those responsible for the creation of the DNA of the avatars. She had been injecting herself with a modified DNA for months, just so her baby could breathe the air of Pandora. Of course, this was very irresponsible of her, and Norm understood why she was hiding this experiment. He would never have allowed a baby to be experimented on like that. But well…it was too late. This was a surprise to everyone, the first human who could breathe in Pandora. Max and Norm discovered that this was only possible for fetuses, and not all of them. Only those that could survive the treatment, for your release your DNA withstood all the changes. And lucky for you…Mo'at wanted to take care of you, not as your mother but as your guardian. She felt a kind of responsibility, your mother was a very good person to her, and she had trusted her with everything. So she would take care of her daughter. And that's when neytiri met you.
She had given birth to lo'ak 5 months ago, and finding out that there was another newborn baby was very interesting to her. Her mother never told her that the baby was a human, neytiri thought it was another na'vi woman who had given birth and could not survive. And about the human who gave birth, well…she lamented the event but didn't think much of it. She could hear Jake lamenting, and everyone else but it wasn't her problem. She was on her way to her mother's hut, Mo'at had called her to ask her for a favor and to meet the new baby. Neytiri entered very excited, seeing how her mother was sitting there cradling something on her chest.
"Mother…did you call me?" speaks Neytiri. Mo'at settles herself more so that she is now seated in front of her daughter. "Yes, I want to ask you a favor" neytiti nods her head, now sitting up. As she settled lo'ak more on her chest.
"I think you already know about the human-woman who gave birth and died, right?" moat asks.
"Yes…it's very sad news" says neytiri, she doesn't want to imagine that scene. Now she was a mother and she can't imagine how hard it must be for a baby to be alone without its mother.
" Now that you know…I need you to take care of this baby" mo'at pulls out a human baby from her chest, of course she wouldn't have seen it, it was very small compared to her baby. Holding the newborn baby with only one hand, so that her daughter could see it. Before neytiri could speak, mo'at begins;
"She…her mother did not stand the birth, she is a very special baby neytiri…she can breathe our air, she can have a good life. Since you and your partner have adopted kiri, and jake is part of the humans. I think it would be the right thing to do, to help this baby grow up. Besides, you are the only woman who has just given birth, this baby needs to be fed with mother's milk," speaks Mo'at.
Leaving neytiri speechless, she more than anyone else knew that she did not like humans that much. And now she was asking him to take care of one of them. She adopted kiri, because the baby was a na'vi. And she accepted jake, because he had his na'vi body. But now that she would take care of a human child? His mother was going crazy. "Mom…I can't do that, get someone else to do it?" speaks neytiri in protest. Mo'at shakes her head, her mother looked calm. Placing the baby now, in a kind of nest she had prepared. This one was in front of her, in front of her feet.
"Daughter I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't necessary, this baby can't be raised by humans. She needs to breathe oxygen from these masks from time to time" mo'at held for a moment the mask norm had left for the baby. "But it's not just that…this baby's feeding is also from a na'vi. Norm already tried to feed her food that is used for human babies and she threw it up. She won't accept it, I thought you might be able to help. It's just feeding and basic care. You don't have to take care of her or adopt her." Mo'at speaks.
Neytiri was still looking at the baby with curiosity, she could have a lot of anger with humans. But she was not a monster, she was not a savage. What she was seeing there was a helpless creature, which she could tell was a little weak. Neytiri touches one of the baby's feet a little, seeing if it had any movement. "I'm afraid it will die if it doesn't feed well in the next few hours" says mo'at. Neytiri sighs, and thinks for a moment. Feeding a baby is not a bad thing, indeed it is very common in the clan. Helping and feeding the children in the clan was something that the women of the omaticaya clan helped each other with. So she would do it as a way to support her mother.
"It's okay," neytiri says, moving lo'ak a little to the side of her chest. Taking the human baby in her hands, carrying it carefully on her breast. It was very delicate and small. It weighed almost nothing, she was afraid that if it moved too much it would hurt the newborn. Neytiri moves the ornaments covering her breasts a little, bringing the creature close. Carefully positioning and guiding the baby. Noticing how the baby opens its mouth desperately trying to seek a maternal touch. After a few seconds, Neytiri watched as the baby began to suck with ease.
Neytiri settles in more, and places the baby on her forearm. She watched as the baby sucked the milk with great enthusiasm. She felt sorry, and an anguish filled her heart. She was such a small and helpless baby. Neytiri noticed how now lo'ak had gotten up, but did not begin to fuss or anything. He just started to move his little hands, until he found the human baby's foot that was right next to him. He touched it carefully and curiously, closing his hand. "Hey careful…be gentle" says neytiri in a low voice, trying not to wake the baby and not to upset her son.
After feeding the baby, neytiri continued to hold the baby to her breast. The baby had fallen asleep, and she looked more peaceful. She had finally eaten since she was born.
"Daughter…if you don't want to do it I understand…but I trust you and " mo'at is interrupted by neytiri. "Mother…it's okay, I will take care of her. After all she is a baby and she needs our help" says neytiri, stroking the baby's tiny head.
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"Ok…Neteyam come here!!!" shouts jake, watching as his one year old son ran as fast as he could around the edge of the family hut. Kiri was next to him, playing with some toys. Jake watched as his partner entered the hut. Neytiri had her eyes on her chest, cooing at something. Jake thought it was lo'ak, but noticed how Neytiri had another net over her chest, and was holding something else. Jake gets up from the ground, and walks over to her.
"And what do you bring there?" asks jake. Watching as neytiri giggles softly, moving the net a bit revealing the face of a human baby. "That's it… it's newborn" jake quickly approaches taking the baby in his hands. It was instinctive, they already had their own children and seeing another baby was very common for them, they acted on their instincts. Cradling the baby in their arms. "This is that woman's baby, huh?" asks jake. Hearing how neytiri answers him with a "hmm". There was a small silence, until neytiri explained everything to jake. The man was a little surprised by his mate's attitude, she didn't usually act like that. Neytiri wouldn't even go near spider, and now she was taking care of a baby girl. A human baby.
"She needs to be fed and cared for…mom told me she needs this to breathe sometimes" says neytiri, holding up an oxygen box which had a small oxygen mask. "Well…there's nothing we can do" says jake, laughing a little. Neytiri moves closer to jake and gets closer to smell a little bit of the baby's hair. "She's very precious and special" says neytiri.
"yes….is very special" says jake. Until jake feels someone touch his feet. It was kiri and neteyam who wanted to be carried, they wanted to see how much their parents were doing. Jake kneels down, showing the baby to his sons. "She's a baby…just like your brother" jake speaks softly. A little neteyam reaches over and gently touches the baby's nose, to start laughing. He thought the baby was funny, and kiri does the same. The children were amazed at the baby their father was holding in his arms.
Neytiri didn't know what she was getting into, but she knew she was going to do her assignment very well. She herself began to doubt, the more Y/N grew up, because it was more than obvious that this baby was going to stay with them, after taking care of you for 6 months Neytiri told her mother that she would adopt you as her daughter. This news filled mo'at with joy. She knew she had chosen well, and that her daughter would do a great job. But now neytiri was doubting herself.
The mothers could be a little rude if they wanted to, it had been five years since Y/N had come into their family. And the Sully's had raised the girl as one of their children. There was no preference, no special care. You were a na'vi in the eyes of her family, but to some members of the clan you were still a strange human who shouldn't be in the village. It was more than evident that you were a human, but what human wore no mask at all?. Except you, and this bothered neytiri a lot. She was always hearing how some mothers commented on your appearance and made ignorant comments. Making fun of her for thinking she was the mother of this strange creature. This did not stop Neytiri, even though it hurt her, she went ahead with your raising. But it was normal for her to doubt her parenting and whether it was right for her to take care of you.
Neytiri had gone for a walk with all her children, sitting in a nice meadow. Watching her children run and play. Neteyam, kiri were running around. While lo'ak was lying with his head lying in her lap, while taking a nap. And Y/N she was beside her playing with a wooden ikran, making it fly. As she stood calmly by her side. Neytiri She hadn't been so calm in a while, taking out her bow that hung from her back. She used to carry it, in case there was something dangerous. She began to fix some details, like the loose string. Taking her knife to sharpen one of her arrows.
Neytiri was so focused, she didn't notice that Y/N had gotten up from the floor. You were small, so you didn't make much noise. You look for some branches, a rock, and some ropes from the trees that were on the ground. Running now to sit next to your mother. Neytiri notices how you sit down again, and is surprised to see how you have all these things between your legs. Trying to put them together, and imitating Neytiri. Copying how she was sharpening her arrows. "Honey…look it's like this" says neytiri, following your game. Giving you a stone that was next to you, for you to play with.
You were next to her, copying what she was doing. What was she worrying about, she felt a little silly. Here was the child she doubted she was raising right, imitating her. She chuckled to herself, stroking her daughter's face a little, pulling up the oxygen mask around her neck over her daughter's nose so she could breathe a little. Watching as the little girl continued her work of creating a bow. She knew that life at your side was going to be difficult, but it was going to be worth it. She knew that.
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ryomens-vixen · 7 months
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GrievingSukuna! HEADCANONS
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Summary: You passed away from an incurable illness that plagued you almost your entire life, and even as his favorite concubine, his most cherished, hell his only one left since he had disposed of the rest. The one thing he liked, that her genuinely cherished was now withering away in his arms.
⚠Warning⚠ Minors dni, mentions of death, Sadness, idk what else to put.
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GrievingSukuna! Who has never once said "I love you" to anyone not even you. The thought of those words ever leaving his lips made him want to gag except right those words meant everything.
GrievingSukuna! Who listened to your frail voice reassure him that your time spent with him was a joyous one, and that your were just another concubine, that he shouldn't mourn the life of someone who was merely brought to his temple over a year ago for his enjoyment alone.
GrievingSukuna! Who silenced you with the most tender, loving, heart stopping kiss to ever grace your soft yet dry lips as he just could not bare to hear another word. You chipped away of his walls, held his cold heart in your warm hand, and yet you had the nerve to utter nonsense? You had become his pride, the air he breathes, almost his wife, and possibly the barrer of his supposed heir.
GrievingSukuna! Who listened to you final goodbye to him after one last kiss to which he finally spoke those three words...
"Oh, Lord Ryomen, Serving you was..was the best thing that life could have ever given me. Every moment I spent serving you.. I spent without regret, my only regret now is being too weak to serve you any longer. What kind of concubine am I? Heh, forgive me..please forgive me, I- I-..."
You had spent all your energy speaking this blasphemy to him. If he could he would have scolded you right then and there, but there was no time that. All he could was catch your fallen hand that reached for him in an attempt to hold him one more time. You didn't have enough energy left to finish your sentence yet he finished it for you in those last moments he uttered for the first and final time.
"I Love You, (Y/N)... You foolish woman."
He said it, he finally said it, those words from him you would carry into the afterlife with you, A tear fell from your beautiful (E/C) eyes. But these words were only meant for your ears, not even his servant that stood outside his chambers could hear him whispering those three words into your delicate ears.
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GrievingSukuna! Who's world came crashing down once your chest rose and fell taking your last breath. Oh the heinous things he would do, the sacrifices he would make, the blood he would give to just hear your sweet voice once more. This hurt him, this pain.. It petrified him, it was like no pain he had ever felt before.
GrievingSukuna! Who after hours of holding your cold corpse, finally allowed his servents to come in and ready you for burial. His face was unreadable to them, but on the inside he was ready to explode with rage, he was ready to curse the heavens and hell for taking what was his away.
GrievingSukuna! Who stayed locked away in his chambers for the next few days leading up to your burial. Oh how you wounded him worse than any man or woman ever could. This wound wasn't something he could just easily no, no, this wound would forever be etched into his mind, body, and soul for as long as he lived.
GrievingSukuna! Who's face remained unreadable during the ceremony, you had no family to join him, just his loyal servents who had grew quite fond of you once upon a time.
GrievingSukuna! Who quickly storm away once your casket was lowered into the ground, he felt his eyes were burning... What was this? Tears!? Never in the beginning of time would Sukuna ever shed a pathetic tear, but he heart could not deny the human emotions that came with once being human. He wouldn't dare let anyone see such an ugly sight, him experiencing sadness.
GrievingSukuna! Who's sadness was quickly replaced with pure, unadulterated rage, every village in 100...No a thousand mile radius was fucked. If he couldn't have the one thing he cherished more than anything in the world then why should everyone else?
GrievingSukuna! Who would go days without returning to his temple until he's had his fill of bloodshed, maybe this was his new found way of coping with the loss of his concubine?
GrievingSukuna! After days of slaughter he would return home to your grave absolutely drenched from head to toe in the blood of the innocent and lay at your grave.
GrievingSukuna! Who would stay at you grave for hours, cursing you to the heavens for leaving him in disarray, for not ripping his heart out his chest to take with you so he wouldn't have to FEEL this pain any longer.
GrievingSukuna! Who would soon slaughter all that were loyal to him as he would rather live in solitude, then to be reminded that he has no one to share the servitude of his people with. Sukuna would rather be alone than to enjoy the finer things without you by his side.
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axiina · 5 months
Note
PLSSS soft corio comforting reader after they get he saves her(or them idm) from the arena after she tried to say a proper goodbye to her tribute (kinda like sejanus) but maybe she gets hurt and super traumatized but hes there for her idk
If I Killed Someone for You
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Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral)
Summary: It wasn't supposed to end this way. You just wanted to say goodbye to your tribute, Lamina. Luckily, your boyfriend was there and made sure you didn't get hurt. Just why do you look at him differently now?
Words: 1.5k
Themes: hurt with comfort, a bit of fluff but also angst
Warnings: slight spoilers to movie and book, small changes to canon, Pup isn't Lamina's mentor, character's death, murder, a bit of trauma, blood, comforting, a bit of argument, death, overthinking, reader feels guilty about situation, referring reader as 'you'
Author's note: Lamina deserved better so you are her mentor, fuck this idiot Pup.
It was supposed to be fluff, but it came out a bit sad and traumatic. We got a soft Coriolanus, leaving aside the fact that he killed someone in the process. Enjoy!!
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It was a pure act of desperation.
You just wanted to tell Lamina what you hadn't managed to do before. You had grown close to the young girl, who was horrified by what was happening. The very fact that she was in the arena, alone, without any support was driving you crazy.
She didn't deserve what happened to her. You hoped that maybe Lamina would be able to win and would be able to return home to the family she missed so much.
With each hour of the Hunger Games, her chances seemed to get smaller and smaller. For those few days, you sat like you were on pins and needles staring at the big screen at the Academy. After a while, the helplessness returned and you had to try not to cry in front of the cameras.
Lamina did not deserve it. None of the tributes deserved it. You did everything you could to make Lamina feel as comfortable as possible during the meetings and her stay at the Capitol. In the arena, you tried your best to make sure she wasn't hungry or thirsty. You didn't want her to get hurt. That, however, was not enough. Seeing a boy from her district, Treetch, joining another group made you feel anxious.
"What if they kill her? What if he betrays her…" This thought ran through your head repeatedly like a mantra.
She became weaker and weaker every day.
Your last meeting was too short. You didn't have time to say goodbye to her properly. You wanted her to know that even though you were physically somewhere else, your heart and thoughts were with her, at the arena. You had to say goodbye to her. You wouldn't forgive yourself if Lamina died without hearing a proper goodbye.
That's why you decided to see her one last time. Under cover of darkness, you crept into the arena in disguise and quietly snuck under the beam where Lamina was. Perhaps foolish and reckless, but you didn't think about the consequences. Ever since the girl got to the arena you couldn't find a place. You slept only short naps and didn't even want to meet Coriolanus, who was getting more and more worried about you.
While you were at the arena, every now and then you looked nervously around to the sides to see if anyone was coming. Lamina was surprised when you showed up. It was all surreal and you felt as if you were detached from reality. As soon as you saw Lamina you started crying. You both cried. Now the knowledge of how dangerous the arena was came to you like a powerful punch. She can't die. You don't remember what exactly you told her. You don't know if you said anything that made sense to her at all. The adrenaline made your mind kind of foggy. However, you know that it lifted her spirits. She knew you were with her and supporting her. You don't know exactly how much you were in the arena.
Everything happened so fast when Coriolanus grabbed your arm. Your brain didn't even register the fact that the boy appeared there practically out of nowhere. He looked terrified. He spoke quickly and incoherently. You only understood as he begged you to run away from there, because at any moment someone might come out of the tunnels and kill you. You were frozen with panic when it came to you. They hate the Capitol. They hate you too, and they certainly wouldn't think twice before killing you. Your fear was increased when Lamina's eyes widened in horror and only one word came out of her mouth.
Run.
Tributes began to leave the tunnels. As soon as they noticed that there were two mentors in the arena they started running towards you. Because of the adrenaline in your veins, you don't remember much of what happened next. You and Coriolanus ran as fast as you could when Coral, Mizzen, Tanner and Bobbin chased you while holding objects in their hands that could be the cause of your upcoming death.
The next scene that stuck in your mind was when your boyfriend hit one of the tributes on the head with a wooden plank. The boy fell down, and Coriolanus, without thinking much, hit him a second time. Then another and another. You looked at the body of Bobbin lying lifeless and Snow standing over him, unable to get a single word out. Your heart was raging and your head was spinning, feeling fear. You were terrified.
You couldn't tell what was the reason. The fact that you had just nearly died in the arena, or…. no, it couldn't have been that. He was merely trying to defend you. Yes, that was definitely the reason. Coriolanus is not a murderer, he was just…. he was terrified and acted emotionally. Bobbin would have killed him if Coryo hadn't done it first. Then you would have been next in line. Yes, that's what would have happened.
Both of you were injured, but at that moment it didn't even cross your mind to ask him how he was feeling. The Peace Keepers almost carried you out of there. Your parents were as terrified as you were. By the time you were sitting in your room wrapped in a blanket as your mother hugged you crying something finally hit you. You could have died. Your family would have been devastated. Your friends and…Coriolanus. Well, exactly, Coriolanus. He almost died because of your fault. Your stupidity and recklessness. Now he is injured and probably suffering, and you are not there with him. After what happened you didn't even say a stupid thank you to him.
"What were you even thinking! You could have died there! Did you even think about your loved ones? About me? What would have happened to me if you had died there? If I didn't get there in time!" Coriolanus repeated walking in circles around the empty classroom, the next morning. You had your head bent down, and tears were running down your cheeks. How could you do something like that?
Coriolanus sighed and sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you closer.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't yell like that. You're probably still terrified. I was just…scared. I was scared that I would lose you."
It seemed to you that his voice cracked as the boy pressed his cheek against your head.
"Don't do that again. Don't scare me like that. If you had died I wouldn't have forgiven myself. I wouldn't be able to live normally." He whispered in your ear with a trembling voice.
"I'm here, love. I will always be until you have had enough of me. Although, most likely, even then I won't give you a break." A quiet, slightly trembling chuckle left his lips, at which you also smiled involuntarily.
"Enough of you? Never." you replied in an amused voice gently pulling away, but still remaining in his embrace. "I'm sorry, Coryo…I'm so terribly sorry for you. I just wanted to say goodbye to Lamina. I don't want anything bad to happen to her. I don't want her-"
"Shhh, it's okay." Coriolanus rested his forehead against yours and took your face in his hands gently stroking your cheeks. "It is past. The most important thing is that we came out of it alive. Lamina is also alive and relatively well, excluding the circumstances."
"Thank you, Coryo. Thank you for everything. For saving me that night and that you do not resent me for it." You whispered, trying not to cry. You nuzzled your cheek into his palm and placed a gentle kiss on it.
Coriolanus' face moved closer to yours and he gently brushed your lips with his own as if he was afraid he would frighten you.
"I am angry at you. Earlier even furious, but I love you too much to stay mad at you." Coryo gently rubbed his nose against yours and looked into your eyes.
His beautiful blue eyes. Cold, but at the same time it makes you feel at home. Eyes that yesterday were raging and at one point…full of hatred.
Your smile slowly disappeared as you remembered what happened to Bobbin.
"Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday-" you started uncertainly, but Coriolanus cut you off.
"No." His voice seemed cold and in a moment you were embarrassed and your heart beat faster. You were the reason he had to do it, and now you're reminding him of it. Maybe he thinks you are blaming it on him.
Your thoughts, however, were interrupted by your boyfriend's voice. Softer this time.
"I didn't mean to. I didn't want to do it, but it was stronger than me…Please don't hate me. I love you and I did it for you too."
His eyes were glassy and he seemed panicked. You shook your head in denial and took his hand in yours bringing it close to your lips and kissed his knuckles.
"No, you're a good person, Coryo. Nothing has changed. I continue to love you, and you only proved me during the night that I couldn't find a better one."
Coriolanus wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.
"You know you don't have to…you don't have to be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt you. Never."
You froze for a brief moment. It was as if he was reading your mind. How could you think that about him? He saved you. If not for him, you would be dead.
It was stronger than that. When he approached you this morning your heart was beating faster and a chill went through your body.
"It's because I love him. Typical reaction" You repeated to yourself in your mind.
Every time you felt his hands stroking your hair while you were hugging, you thought about how tightly he gripped that wooden plank with which he cracked the head of the boy in the arena. How the blood spurted onto his snow white shirt from his school uniform. And those eyes. The eyes that always made you feel butterflies in your stomach, and then they seemed so unfamiliar. You thought about how later after the situation at the arena, he tried to approach you, and you took a step back with your eyes wide open in horror.
Of course, he knew. You don't need to read minds to know that. And he was intelligent. He knew right away.
"I know, I know, Coryo. It's just…" you knew that if you continued your voice would break. Besides, you didn't know what to say. You snuggled into his neck hugging him more tightly at the waist. You don't want to hurt him with such thoughts, but they are so intrusive. You can't get them out of your head despite his reassurances, affectionate words and gentle touch. "I'm sorry, I should be there for you, and I'm making everything worse."
You whispered soaking the collar of his shirt with your tears.
His hand went to your hair gently stroking it.
"Stop, it's not your fault."
You stayed like that in each other's embrace, in silence. Words are not important now. What is important is that you are together and nothing will change that.
He will not hurt you. Yes, he won't hurt you.
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mire1li · 3 months
Text
Reader as Alastor's Mother part 2
Part 1!, Part 3!
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𓋼 You would absolutely decorate his microphone with a bunch of ribbons you found!
And he would absolutely allow it in fear of upsetting you, although he began to take them off later on when he had to leave, but seeing you get sad at his actions changed his mind… It did not help that the ribbons were glittery.
“Oh look, Sparkles got sparklier!” Angel had said when Alastor was passing by.
𓋼 He wants you to be happy but don't even try having feelings for anyone in hell, they'll most likely 'disappear under mysterious circumstances' and then you'll just so happen to hear their screams on Alastor's radio broadcast <3
Lucifer tries to flirt everytime he sees you outside (or once he comes back to see the hotel which… would be 'some' time later…) But it's not long before Alastor shows up bcs he has a shadow follow you everywhere
“My mother certainly would not want someone so… ancient…”
“are you trying to make me sound like a fossil?”
“Maybe~ I can’t say for sure though!”
"Y'know, I've stolen wives before… maybe it's time to steal a mother instead!"
"I'm going to fucking kill you"
𓋼 Lucifer would play silly games with you and bring you gifts by leaving them at the hotel’s doorstep, although you never received any (like he thought you did) because Alastor would always take them before you saw them. Or he would make them his own to give to you if you were having a worse day than usual!
“Mother, I had noticed that you weren’t feeling all too great so I brought you a wonderful gift!”
“Oh, thank you, darling!”
Your mood always brightened when he gave you these gifts. 𓋼 One time when Lucifer visited the hotel, he went straight to you to ask you about how you liked the gifts.
"[Name]! Hello, deer, how are you? Did you like the gifts that I left you?"
"Hello Luci, I'm fine, thank you! … Gifts? what gifts?"
"The ones… that I left on the doorstep of the hotel!"
"I dont recall seeing any gifts there… but Alastor recently started leaving the hotel more often! Not for very long though…"
And then Lucifer realised. You never received his gifts because Alastor got to them first! After that, he made sure to put a note with his signature on them. Though, that still didn't deter Alastor, to Lucifer's dismay.
𓋼 One time, Angel returned to the hotel at an unreasonably late hour, so you went to make sure everything was alright.
"Are you alright, Angel?"
"Huh? No, I'm totally fucked!"
"Why? What happened?"
"You know Valentino right? My boss?"
"Of course I do, everyone hates him quite a bit here and you always talk about him"
"Right, well, fuckin' Val made me work an extra 10 hours!"
"He what?!"
"Yeah! Absolute bitch move."
Naturally, Alastor was watching and listening to you two so you turned to him, with quite the menacing look in your eyes.
"Oh Alastor, prepare your radio broadcast!~"
𓋼 You noticed that most of the residents of the hotel all came to you for advice quite often (except Niffty, she's just an entirely different entity)
"It seems they have become quite fond of you, Mother"
"They have, haven't they?"
Alastor's expression was always one of annoyance whenever someone came to you for help. He wouldn't dare admit it, but he was most certainly jealous of anyone who even stood too close to you, let alone talked to you.
𓋼 Because of that one time that Alastor stood right next to Charlie to spite Lucifer, Lucifer decided to stand just that close to you to get back at him.
"An eye for an eye, Mr Radio!"
"I recommend you watch yourself."
𓋼 One time, when you were out of the hotel and walking around Hell with Alastor, Vox just so happened to see you on one of his tv screens, Valentino sitting by him, messaging someone.
"Hey Val, who the fuck is that with that old-timey prick?"
"Hm? No clue."
"You didn't even look, fuckhead"
"How would you know? You're too busy eyefucking Alastor."
"I am not"
"She's probably just another one of those redemption hotel idiots. It doesn't matter"
But Vox still just glared at the screen.
𓋼 Vox continued to keep an eye on you, seeing just how wonderful you are and so when you were outside the hotel alone (or so he thought) he went up to you. Somehow he didn't catch onto the fact that you're Alastor's mother.
"Hello-"
"What do you think you're doing?" Alastor, of course, suddenly appeared out of thin air, standing in between you and Vox, with an even more annoyed smile than usual.
"Alastor, is this another one of your friends?"
"No-"
"Yes, absolutely, ma'am. Great friends, in fact!"
"Ha! Well, you see, this is my Mother."
"Your what?"
Yeah, Alastor simply walked away with you whilst Vox was buffering.
𓋼 Vox constantly tried to talk to you alone but Alastor was always there to stop him, so unfortunate.
"Would you stay away from my Mother, you-! Ahem, my apologies, Mother."
"Hah! Your mother? I think you meant our mother!"
𓋼 Alastor would absolutely cover your ears when swearing at, or insulting, anyone.
𓋼 When you first met Valentino, you were so mad at him on Angel's behalf that you knocked him out and brought him back to the hotel with you. Of course, Vox was there with Val but he was like a lost duckling, just slowly trailing behind you, unsure what to do.
"I'm back!"
"What the fuck did you do??" Angel was lying down on the couch when you entered, dragging the unconcious Valentino behind you.
"A favour to you and hell!"
"No, but how?!"
"That's a secret~"
"Ok… so why'd ya bring him here?"
"Redemption"
𓋼 Back to Lucifer! He would tell you random animal facts to try and impress you! He would also unironically ask around, and search up (if necessary), how to impress a woman.
𓋼 Lucifer would suddenly start playing the violin for everyone in the hotel 'for everyones' entertainment' as he called it. (It was meant for you though). Each time Lucifer did this, Alastor told you that something important happened that required your attention. You always stayed for the beginning though.
𓋼 One day, you were baking cookies and you and Alastor left the kitchen for a while whilst they were in the oven, however, you both somehow managed to forget about them… so when the smoke alarm suddenly rang, you ran into the kitchen, everyone wondering what happened.
"Fuck!"
"Language, Mother."
"Don't you 'language' me, young man!"
𓋼 You redecorated his room. He wasn't a fan of all the new colours, but he still appreciated the gesture. (There was a lot of glitter involved)
𓋼 After a while of you staying there, everyone definitely sees you as a mother figure (Alastor didn't appreciate this much either but he's willing to look past it for his friends)
𓋼 As small gifts, you made everyone items that resemble them and filled them with different colours of glitter and paper that remind you of them. Bonus: Behind the scenes! 1. Yuri's bad timing:
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2. Vox and Val:
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uravitsy · 3 months
Text
‘YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL’ SATORU GOJO
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ACT ONE.
summary. gojo visits your grave once a year, reflecting on the limited time he had with you while going through the stages of grief. ☆
warnings. angst, sad!gojo, fem!reader! gojo x you, grief, established relationship, some smut if you squint, bittersweet ending
a/n. this is a short story i wrote over the summer, i wanted to dabble into the idea of gojo not being able to fully process his grief without the help of his students. it is a bit sad though.
ACT TWO : ̗̀➛ ACT THREE : ̗̀➛ FINALE
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𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪
"Does Gojo-sensei seem…different today?" Itadori asked absentmindedly, leaning back in his chair while balancing a pencil on his nose. He was doing everything else but the work he was supposed to finish before class ended. His two close friends, Megumi and Nobara, spared him a quick glance, as if debating whether to answer his ridiculous question.
"When is that nutjob ever okay?" Nobara bounced back another question, making Itadori stop balancing himself on his chair to think for once. The pencil he had on his face clattered onto the ground. "If anything, he's more extra than he was yesterday."
"Exactly," Itadori frowned, the invisible lightbulb above his head continuing to flicker as he thought long and hard about what Gojo could be upset about. He knew it was a stretch, and he himself wasn't too good at reading emotions, but he was sure something was off—from the way Gojo's smile seemed wider to the way his laughs went on for a second too long. "What do you think, Megumi?"
The black-haired boy stopped moving his pencil across the paper. His face remained stoic as the two beside him turned to look in his direction, anticipating an answer from him.
In short, Megumi did know why Gojo seemed off today, and it was all because of his vague memory of you.
He was a clueless child back then, but he felt it. He felt the love you and Gojo shared, something he had seen before between his own mother and father. It was strong, beautiful, like a song that only you and Gojo knew the lyrics to. It was a dance—a slow burn into the spotlight of a world you two created.
He admired it. He admired you and the person you helped Gojo become.
And though your memory was beautiful, it was also tragic. Megumi did mourn you since he remembered bits and pieces of you, but he was sure Gojo mourned you the most. Especially since today was the anniversary of your death. For as long as he's known Gojo, he knew that this one day out of the year was the time when he'd crack more jokes, tease him more, and laugh the loudest—all to mask his pain.
And he couldn't help but think it's because Gojo never properly grieved for you.
"He's the same as usual," Megumi lied. It wasn't their place to know, nor was it his. Everyone had their secrets and the stuff they keep to themselves. Who were they to pry into his business? "You guys should just drop it."
And with that, he went back to his assignment, ignoring the gawking stares from both of his friends.
"Well, now I'm even more curious," Itadori pouted, resting his chin on his hand as he looked out the window just in time to see Gojo's back as he skipped off campus. "He's literally leaving in the middle of the day!"
"Itadori—" Megumi started but got interrupted by his friends' loud voices.
"What?!" Nobara pushed Itadori away from the window so she could look. A sudden spark of curiosity consumed her as she cracked a mischievous grin. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"We should follow him!" they both said at the same time as they rushed out of the classroom with such speed they left papers flying behind them.
Megumi could only sigh. His peers were likely to get in trouble and drag him into their mess somehow. It never fails. He thought for a moment about how he would benefit from following them to make sure they didn't get caught leaving school grounds without a teacher, but he came up with nothing. He figured he should take his own advice and mind his own business, let those two knuckleheads do whatever they want and suffer the consequences for it.
They could potentially run into dangerous curses, dangerous people, or dangerous people controlling dangerous curses… and then suffer grave injuries. You know what? Maybe he should follow them from a distance.
Meanwhile, the door to the flower shop gave a soft ding as Gojo opened it. His tall frame took up the space in the small shop. Gojo ducked his head as he came in, careful not to knock over the potted plants that rested on the floor and shelves in no particular order. The air was stale with an earthy smell that was oddly comforting. It was good to know that the place remained the same after a year—the only thing that stayed the same in his chaotic life.
"Satoru!" an elderly woman looked up from her newspaper at the sound of the doorbell, thick circle glasses making her eyes appear large and almost fish-like. "Good to see you! How have you been?"
"Mrs. Yamada," Gojo bowed respectfully to the elder, to which the lady playfully pinched and pulled his cheeks. "Missed you too!"
"You silly boy, you know you can visit anytime and not just once a year, you know (Y/N) would've loved that, hm?" Mrs. Yamada made her way behind the counter, already grabbing and wrapping up a single flower. A flower that was your favorite, the same kind you'd always get whenever you would come into this small flower shop.
Gojo never understood why you didn't let him buy a whole bouquet of the flowers you loved. "Then I'd have to take care of all of them," you'd say, your laugh like a sweet melody in his ears that he constantly wanted to replay. "When it's just one, I feel like it lasts longer, you know? I seem to appreciate it more."
The memory made him frown slightly. If you allowed it, he would've bought the whole damn store for you, and you wouldn't just be stuck with a single flower. He didn't get it. He didn't get you. Even after all these years, he was still trying to figure you out.
"Ah, she used to come in every Sunday morning to say hello," Mrs. Yamada smiled warmly. "Always ready to hound me for something sweet to eat. (Y/N) had a nose like a hound and a stomach like a sumo wrestler." The brown wrapping paper crinkled against the elder's fingertips as she folded it around the flower. "Oh, how I miss her."
"Come now, Mrs. Yamada," Gojo leaned against the counter, tapping the wood with excitement. "She'd want us to smile, to celebrate her life, right?! Then that's exactly what we'll do."
"Satoru…"
Gojo waved his hands dismissively. "The usual price for the flowers, right?"
"Yes," Mrs. Yamada rang him up at the cash register before sliding the flower across the counter toward him. But before Gojo could grab it, she pulled it away. "I wanted to tell you before I closed up shop for the day, but… I will be retiring next month."
Gojo's smile fell then.
"I am getting too old, and ever since my husband's passing, I find it quite hard to manage this all on my own, no matter how much I love to do so," she patted the counter lightly, eyes glazed over in a daze as if recalling a memory. "I will be closing the shop and moving to America to stay with my daughter."
"Then are you going to sell the building?"
Gojo found himself asking before he could even think about what to say.
"I'll buy it."
Even in death, you were expensive. How was that possible? Gojo found himself using his savings to buy a whole flower shop that you weren't even here to see. But did that matter to him? Of course not. You were worth every penny—and the shop, to him, was nothing more than a shiny penny that he could buy for your sake. All because you loved it and would visit it often. Gojo couldn't let it close down; it was too valuable for the sake of the memories it held.
So now he owned a flower shop. What the hell was he going to do with a flower shop? He didn't know a damn thing about flowers.
"(Y/N)…" Gojo whispered your name as he pushed open the metal graveyard gate, the bolt making a loud creaking noise that echoed into the summer breeze.
It didn't take Gojo long to find your headstone. After all these years, he knew this cemetery like the back of his hand; at this point, it was like a second home to him. The only place where he could truly let the mask fall as he mourned for you.
In the years you've been gone, he had a long time to think—to wonder why you of all people had to be taken away from him. It made him question, curse, and cry to a higher power above if there was one. Would they be listening? Did they hear him? Did they understand the pain he was put through? And if everything was a part of the higher power's plan, then why was (Y/N) written in with such a tragic story? Why did her life become a song of such somber music?
It wasn't fair. And to Gojo, he would never make sense of it, no matter how hard he tried.
"Ah, it's a beautiful day, (Y/N)." Gojo smiled warmly at your headstone before sitting on the smooth tile, rummaging through his bag to pull out a rag so he could wipe the dust that was on top of your engraved name. "Though I bet you're complaining about how hot it is. I know, it is a little toasty, but a beautiful day nonetheless."
Wiping the concrete clean, Gojo made sure it was spotless with all the cleaning supplies he brought. He had to make up for the year he was away; that's why he always deep-cleaned your headstone since he knew he wouldn't be back until next year. He wanted you to watch the seasons go by with a pretty headstone, one that sparkled whenever the sun cast its rays on it.
"Hm?" Gojo tilted his head as if to hear your unspoken question again. "Oh! I'm doing good. Still teaching. You'd love these lot of kids, though. They have such great potential and are such a reckless bunch who enjoy escaping off campus to follow me here."
"Crap! He's onto us." Gojo heard Nobara's voice from the bushes behind him.
"Do you think he knows?" Itadori asked in his typically clueless fashion.
"He knows, dumbass." Megumi sighed before emerging from the bushes with twiddledee and twiddledumb trailing behind him. Their bantering stopped once they saw Gojo sitting by your headstone, the air suddenly becoming still as they made their way closer.
"Gojo-sensei, we can explain—!"
"Don't even," the white-haired man laughed before gesturing toward the headstone. "(Y/N), meet my students. Students, meet (Y/N)!"
"Ah! Nice to meet you!" Itadori bowed in respect, and so did Megumi.
"Why are we bowing to a dead—" Grabbing ahold of Nobara's hand, Itadori forcibly pulled her down so she could bow as well.
"Oh, you kids are in so much trouble," Gojo said with a gleeful smile. "I'm already thinking of all the ways to punish you."
"In my defense," Megumi started, "I tried to stop them."
"Yetttttt you're still here." Tilting his head, Gojo looked at his students playfully. "I hope you all enjoyed this field trip, but let's head back to campus, yeah? And get ice cream along the way!"
"Oh! Ice cream!" Itadori and Nobara spun around in a dance as they made their way toward the entrance of the cemetery, the pair just finding it best not to question who you were or what you were to Gojo. They could finally sense what Itadori was talking about that morning. He was different today, and it was clear he was sad. "La la la la la!"
"Let's go, Megumi. Do you still prefer chocolate?" Gojo turned to walk away but stopped in his tracks when he noticed Megumi staring at your grave with an expression he couldn't read. "Megumi?"
"Gojo-sensei…" His student turned to look at him. "I just want you to know that it's okay to be sad, to grieve for her."
Gojo chuckled, tucking his hand in his pocket as a breeze cut through the air, its chilled warmth wrapping around the pair. "Who's to say I don't? I grieve her every day."
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URAVITSY 2024
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lazyneonrabbitt · 3 months
Text
Girlfriend
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Daryl Dixon x Reader | Some smut at the end
Daryl is in a sucky relationship but doesn't see it at first. Reader helps him see and later shows him how a good partnership works.
💘 💘 💘
With another invite turned down, you had set out on your own. Not that you enjoyed hunting without Daryl, but he seemed to be preoccupied with his girlfriend.
Again.
It was annoyingly quiet out there, nothing that indicated any animal being near..
Only ..rustling plants. Low, no wind in the trees. You followed the sound, staying low and undetected like Daryl taught you until-
Plap. Plap. Plap. "Hahh please~" Plap. Plap. "Quiet." Followed by a grunt and more skin on skin noise.
You recognized that barked command, having heard it a million times before during Daryl's hunting lessons. Was he really out here fucking his gross girlfriend? That preppy lady wouldn't even know how to function out here let alone be comfortable on the forest floor. Why the hell would he fuck that annoying bitch out here but not you during all those times spent together on your own?
But that's how it was these days. Your dear friend always being followed by that hag of a woman and you being sidelined.
On days it could get so bad you ended up in tears, begging Carol to explain why he was being so weird all of a sudden. She knew you cared deeply for him and didn't like Daryl's lady either and when you returned from your cut short hunting trip you told her about your findings. And of course about Daryl's clearly visible annoyance surrounding the act. You ended up being able to laugh about it all, laying back in a fit of giggles just as Daryl came back home and upon seeing him crying out laughter even harder.
"Ahw pookie, did a walker snag you?" She spoke through the snickering, pointing at her neck and back at him which had him look in the mirror and spot a dark red spot on his neck, immediately turning a deep shade of red in the face as he mumbled a response you couldn't make out.
As he stomped up the stairs, grumbling about a shower you gave each other a look and went back to laughing.
"Man, it's sad. Really." Your words brought some seriousness back into the conversation, seeing your friend was still being tortured on a daily basis but never seeming to be doing anything about it.
You all saw it. He was unhappy. But the majority of the community didn't see that. They didn't know him and only saw their happy friend with her quiet, grumbly boyfriend. The man you wanted to be your quiet, grumbly boyfriend.
Even Rick had tried to get his brother alone for even a short moment to make it clear she was bad for him but no matter where he found the archer, the woman was there too.
Everybody knew when Daryl was working in the garage you left him be, emergencies were fine, and leaving him some lunch with minimal interaction was appreciated but those were his moments to unwind. He needed those and you respected it. He'd make sure to let at least someone know so the word spread amongst his friends who all knew he'd come say hi when he was good to socialize again.
But these last weeks someone apparently didn't feel like those rules applied to her. The garage door was opened, allowing a view of Daryl sitting cross-legged on an old blanket and tinkering on his bike. And then behind him on the toolbox, the top cleared off for her to sit on and her legs resting on the bike's front wheel was the missus. You ever so slowly walked past, having Dog spot you and come up for some attention that he never got from the other one which you found more than sad.
You crouched down and lovingly cuddled up with the canine and ruffled his fur, smiling into his neck and listening in on the endless chattering that came from the woman currently disturbing Daryl's much needed alone time.
'Alright fuck this' you thought to yourself before standing up straight and calling out to her. "I heard you bake some amazing apple treats. Wanna show me how to make them?" Daryl gave you the most shocked look ever, but the feet touching the ground behind him made him smile ever so slightly. The one thing she was almost more fond of than Daryl was her baking. Clearly Carol must have told her.
But nothing beat the relief he felt when the two women walked off and Dog came to rest at his side again. He was gonna have to thank you for that later.
Back in the kitchen you suffered through the endless yapping beside you, barely telling you steps for baking and more bragging about her adventurous time in the woods. As you tried to follow her progress you tried your best to twist her words into your favor, and send away any snarky remarks on what you saw in reality.
All you had to do was survive this ordeal and think about Daryl having some time to clear his head.
And clearing his head he did. He felt refreshed after being left alone with his dog and bike for so long. He missed the quiet, started to hate the sound of his lady's voice almost.
But he couldn't tell her that. It was something he'd have to live with, something to get used to about relationships. Just like she had to live with him having Dog and dragging mud into the house.
That was all normal stuff, right? He had no clue so rolling with it until that warm, happy feeling Glenn and Maggie shared showed up. It was only a matter of time, it was gonna happen soon.
Except it didn't, and Daryl got worse so now it was Rick's turn.
He ran out to where Daryl was following around his woman like a lost puppy through the pantry, grabbing him by the shoulders in fake panic and dragging him along, something with trouble, and Carol, and hurry.
So he followed him into his house, where he stopped in the middle of the room and stared at you and Carol on the couch, and Rick behind him.
"Feeling those butterflies yet?" There was clear mockery in her tone, referring to their argument from a while ago about his lady. About how Carol felt he wasn't happy, and he called it none of her business and going on about how everyone had annoyances from time to time and they'd be fine soon. "Ya can't tell me ev'ryones got them butterflies all'a the time."
"Daryl, she doesn't even look at you." Well, she looked, but not in the way it mattered. Stared, gawked and drooled. He was nothing but a piece in her picture of a fake perfect life. And now was the time for truth. "I saw you with her in the woods." Eyes wide he stared at you, discomfort clear on his face. "You hated it, it was clear on your face, you barely even finished before you were up and away from her."
"Whuh-- why'd ya stay?" He stumbled over every word, his mind blank as he heard your reply. "Needed to know if you loved her for real. To move on, get you out of my mind."
He tried to place your words somewhere they made sense, but he got stuck again like he always did.
"Sideline that for a moment. We're talking about the other issue right now." Rick's order helped to get the conversation back on track, looking his dearest friend in the eyes before he spoke the harsh truth.
"Daryl, I know you don't want to hear this from us, but we're worried and you have to understand.." He needed a breath in preparation. "You're never going to be happy with her."
The front door had opened and closed during his sentence, a clearly angry girlfriend rounding the corner. One who had heard his words.
"What the hell are you saying? That's a lie and you know it!" She was face to face with Rick now, giving Daryl a stern look to help defend her. "Who do you think you are to make that assumption! Of course he's happy, he'd tell me if he wasn't!" She went from screaming to pointing aggressively as well. First at Carol. "She's probably just jealous that he likes my baked goods more!"
And then you. "And she.. She's just jealous of what me and Daryl have! You need to mind your own business, all of you!!" She huffed in annoyance.
"Wow." You spoke in the short moment of silence. "Can't believe you can fuck someone with a voice like that. Instant turn off for me."
Now there were four pairs of wide eyes staring at you. Two trying their hardest not to laugh, one in utter shock and one red-faced and ready to throw hands. Not that she'd win against someone who had trained to fight with a cop and a hunter.
She took one step towards you, hands balled into tight fists and brows furrowed in anger when a hand stopped her. "Touch 'er and yer walker bait."
Daryl had stopped her from approaching you. She'd ways obey her loving boyfriend, he loved her for that. "Daryl, honey she-" "Quiet!" He barked the order loud enough to startle everyone in the room, tears slowly forming in the offended woman's eyes. "Why would you let her say that?" She still continued. "You love my voice, my stories when we cuddle.." God, imagine loving your voice that goddamn much. "You said so when we visite--" "I said QUIET. Ya never fuckin' listen do ya?" The initial shock brought the tears to spill. Pressing her lips in a thin line as she sniffled.
You took the opportunity to speak up. "The only reason I asked you about those bland, boring pastries of yours was to give him-" You pointed at Daryl who kept his position in the middle of the group." "-some goddamn peace and quiet. You know, the only thing he actually wants when he's working in the garage." You scoffed at her ignorance. "Funny how everyone here knows, except for his Girlfriend. who loves him 'so, so much'." She went from angry glaring at you to staring at her boyfriend with her best sad eyes. "D.. Daryl? She's lying.. right? Y.. You love me."
No. No he didn't. He realized that now, he only thought he did when she showed him kindness and interest.
He opened his mouth to respond but no word came out. None that went through his head would end this conversation without conflict.
"She's.. I uh." He looked around as if words would appear is he searched hard enough but he quickly realized there was only one clear answer to be given.
The truth.
"Nah, I don'. M'sorry." He had turned back to face her but still hadn't found the courage to look her in the eye, the guilt eating him alive. He didn't want to hurt her. Hurt anyone, but in the process he was hurting himself.
"Liar." Her voice cracked, spirit broken and defeated. "Don't lie to me you love me!"
In her yelling she took a step forward, face now inches away from Daryl's.
"Nah." He repeated again. It stung but she needed to hear him and there it was again, right in front of him but not registering his words. She never truly saw him, heard him, loved him like his found family loved him.
"I don' love ya." Only now did he lift his gaze to meet hers, seeing the tears, the sadness and the anger.
"M'sorry."
She just stared, shaking her head, words lost for once as she cried.
The whole room felt heavy with emotion. It was never the plan to have this talk turn into what it was quickly becoming.
"A- are you.." her words barely came out between sniffs and hiccups. "Leaving me..? Y- you can't.."
"Look," Daryl had to dig deep for the right words, and begged they would work. "I never wanted ta hurtya, s'just.. We jus' ain't a match." He had kept his gaze on her, hoping his eyes would speak what his mouth couldn't. "This.. Us. It ain't workin' fer me." A sigh left him at her silence. He stepped past her, finding the large chair in the corner of the room and sitting down, needing a serious break with how his head was close to overflowing.
A loud sniff left her as she mumbled an okay and left. No further words, just an okay and out she went. Rick made a mental note then to send someone to check on her later. He suggested Daryl to go rest downstairs and take some time off jobs to clear his mind before wishing you and Carol a good day and heading off as well.
"Well, come on." You got a pat on the shoulder from Carol, who lead you off the couch. "You go take Dog for a nice long walk around the community while I go make some comfort food, alright?"
With a nod you retreated downstairs to find Dog napping on Daryl's bed, having to wake him to come with you to get some much needed fresh air for you, and some exercise for Dog.
The community was quiet around dinnertime, having everyone inside with their family, friends and housemates. It was perfect for thinking, commenting on stuff to Dog who padded alongside of you. You should have brought a ball to play with.
Back home Carol was busying herself in the kitchen, all her focus on cooking this meal to keep her from talking to Daryl. He needed the quiet so his head could do some serious sorting out.
You returned to Carol finishing up dinner and watched as Dog quickly made his way over to Daryl and rest his head in his lap.
You joined Carol in the kitchen and helped with plating the food and rinsing pans before leaving for the living room, handing Daryl a plate and eating in silence.
It was clear you weren't talking today and each went on with their lives.
It took a week for Daryl to be back in his usual routine, not avoiding people who could ask questions but just doing his jobs and runs like he normally would.
So now it was time for that talk.
Surprisingly he was the one that came yo you over dinner, having Carol as a buffer to fill in when he'd fall silent made it a bit easier to initiate the conversation.
Of course he had talked to Carol before alone, not knowing how to respond to your words in the first place he wanted some knowledge up front.
"Ya like me, in a boyfriend-girlfriend way?" Daryl's sudden words had you almost choke on your food, giving yourself a moment to breathe before nodding. "Yeah I do." It was no use denying it after what you said last time. And it probably took.him a lot to even start this conversation.
"Can ya tell me how tha' would work." He played around with the food on his plate, needing to keep his hands somehow busy. "If I said yes to it, I mean."
Now you gave him a sweet smile and happily told him. "I guess we'd share a bedroom, whenever you'd be ready for that. And I'd make sure to ask before I kiss you and all that."
"She'd also not kick Dog out and respect your alone time." Carol added with a fork pointed at you both, to which you agreed.
"I jus' ain't sure this is fer me, ya know. I'on wan' things ta get weird." Him admitting his fear was already an important part of any relationship, which you explained to him before adding, "we can give it a trial run, yeah? You can tap out whenever you feel like it's too much, yeah? We'll go at your pace." holding your hand out for him to take it.
Carol had snuck out while you talked and now busied herself in the kitchen to still listen and hop in when needed. She stared at your waiting hand, and Daryl's as he moved it ever so slow to rest it on top of yours. "I like ya too. Should've seen tha' earlier. An' m'sorry fer not seein' yer interest in me."
You gave his hand a little squeeze and so a relationship was started.
Very, very slowly.
Daryl now hovered around when you busied yourself in the kitchen, offered to help more just for the sake of being near you. He slowly worked up the courage to rest his hands on you as he stood around and realized quickly he loved to have his arms around you while you cooked, moving along with you across the counter.
"Daryl," His hands left you immediately, feeling like he overstepped. "Oh, no please, keep your hands on me I don't mind." You let out a laugh as you took his hands and placed them on the side of your ribs. "I just wanted to know if you enjoyed me returning the favor." You gave him a look over your shoulder and watched him as he faked deep thoughts. "I think I'd like yer hands on me, yeah."
You brought over some lunch in a basket. At Daryl's garage you whistled for Dog and gave the basket to him. He happily carried it over to Daryl, handle in his mouth and tail wagging.
Just as you wanted to walk off you were called back over. "Wanna share lunch?" His question shocked you, knowing he never liked people bothering him in the garage so being asked to stay was ..weird. But you stayed anyways and shared a peaceful lunch with Daryl.
You weren't sharing a bed yet. Taking things slow was your tactic, so you'd wait for Daryl to ask, or for him to mention it in conversation when the topic allowed it to be slipped in.
He hadn't yet so you were in bed alone, almost asleep when a knock woke you up. "Yeah?" You called out to whoever it was. The door opened to reveal Daryl in a pair of sweats and an old tee. "M'sorry fer wakin' ya. I wanna try'n sleep 'ere tonight."
His words were like a dream come true, almost literally with you so close to dozing off and scooted over to let him into the bed. The warmth that surrounded him felt good, and hearing your voice whisper a soft good night to him felt right. He returned the words and carefully took a hand to rest it on your side.
He slept through the entire night after years of waking at every creak or caw. When he woke up the first thing he saw was your sleeping form and he knew he wanted that every day. "G'morning, Dee." Your voice sounded like heaven, even in its groggy morning state. "Hmm mornin'." Hw grumbled with a smile. You loved that smile. You wanted to kiss that smile over and over again, but before you got the chance to finish that thought he had made the first move. He moved closer to you, face an inch away as he took a second to steady himself and ever so softly press his lips against yours.
The next night he only went downstairs to bring his pillow with him and moved to your room again, this time letting you settle against him as you got comfortable and again slept through the whole night.
Slowly your cabinet got rearranged to hold Daryl's clothes as well, he'd pull you against him as you both slept.
But maybe tonight he'd try something more than sleeping.
Daryl wasn't a stranger to sex these days, he just wasn't a big fan of it. Sure, it felt nice and he'd get the job done but it never felt like he thought it'd feel.
He hoped it would feel different with you.
You were already in bed when he came out of the shower, wanting to be clean if you were going to be intimate tonight. His arms snaked around yours and pulled your body against his under the covers, pressing the effects of his shower thoughts against your backside as he softly kissed the back of your neck.
"Dee?" You let out a content sigh at his eagerness all of a sudden. "Hmhm. Wanna touch ya." You responded by pressing your ass harder against his cock, grinding against him in slow but steady motions. "I'd love that, please." Words were important to Daryl, he needed his yes's and no's to make sense of these type of situations. Now that he had his yes he slowly made progress by slipping one leg out of his boxers and pulling down your underwear as well.
His cock was back against your ass as his hand snuck down your front and found his way between your folds. His rough fingers felt so good, having you let out a soft gasp as he slipped two fingers into you. You moaned along with his movements, loving the feeling of his thick digits pumping in and out of you. Your hand made its way between the two of you to touch him, moving the hem of his shirt out of the way to take him into your hand properly. Your fingers curled around his cock and pump slowly, soft rhythmic squeezes and pumps had his breathing pick up, almost whining at the touch. After a bit of more lazy touches you started to want more, positioning his length between your legs. He removed his fingers to assist positioning himself at your entrance and carefully moving his his to push into you.
You moaned at the initial stretch, having missed the feeling of being with someone so long. Your hips moved back to meet his on their own and Daryl noticed, enjoying the welcome feeling of his partner joining in the movements. His hand slid underneath your hip as the other trailed up to your chest, lingering just off your breast. With a soft giggle you took his hand and moved it to where he wanted it to be and squeezed softly. Behind you Daryl let out a delicious sound, making you turn just enough so you could watch him. One of your hands reached to scratch at his chin fluff as the other went to cup his balls between your legs, softly kneading them with every thrust of his hips.
His pace picked up and his groans deepened. "This okay for you?" Your voice came out in huffs, watching his face contort in pleasure. "Yeah. Keep touchin', s'good."
You were more than happy to oblige and keep up your gently pawing at his balls and moved your other hand to tangle in his hair, softly scratching his scalp and moving in closer for a kiss. His lips slotted perfectly against yours now after nights of figuring each other out before sleep.
Daryl was enjoying himself. And if your sounds were anything to go by, you were too. Your moans were slowly turning into whines of 'more' and 'please'. The hand that held your breast before now slid further up to your throat as he angled your head by the jaw to deepen the kiss as the hand on your hips helped to roughen his pace. Your sounds, now muffled by his lips were music to his ears and the squeeze of your walls spurred him on more than anything.
"M'close.." You almost whined against his lips, having him double his efforts to make you finish. His hand moved away from your hip in search for your clit, not daring to admit he needed guidance. Your hand moved from between his legs atop of his for a short moment to press the pad of his fingers at the right spot before going back to squeezing at him. It took only a couple more thrusts, rubs and squeezes before you both finished, your walls tightening around his length as he spilled inside of you.
He slumped onto his back, pulling out and putting his underwear back on.
"You good?" You turned to fully face him, "hmhm, yeah tha' was way more fun than I thought." He gave you a soft smile as you wormed your underwear back on too. "S'nice when the lady touches me too." You took his words as an invite and rested your hand on his hip and squeezed. His body was just so perfect for squeezing in any and all places, you loved it. "I'll always happily touch you, just lemme know when you don't like something." He gave a grunt in agreement and suggested sleep for now, continuing the talk in the morning.
So sleep you did, even better now being all tired out.
Breakfast tasted better after that, the air was fresher and the residents were less annoying.
That was of course until the one they didn't want to run into saw them holding hands on the way to the pantry.
"I hope you like sloppy seconds." One voice commented from behind you. "Yeah, sloppy for sure. Horrible lay, that guy." The women giggled among themselves, staring you down. Where Daryl tried to ignore his ex's stupid remarks, you weren't going to leave without snapping back. "Sloppy? Maybe when the chick he fucks squeals like a dying hog! Fucked me so good I could barely walk last night." You sent them a smug look, the women in the background giggling softly as she colored beet red and crossed her arms with a huff, turning away from the two of you in shame. "Ya done makin' a scene now? We gotta grab food." You proudly nodded, a wide smile on your face on your way into the pantry to pick out dinner food.
Daryl might not have shown it on the outside, but he was damn proud of his lady. And hearing you defend him like that made him live you even more.
~~☆☆☆~~
A/N: loosely inspired by the Avril Lavigne song. Because I'll forever be a little emo kid by heart.
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lazycats-stuff · 5 months
Note
been thinking of a batbro bimbo reader who isn't yet fully aware of his family's identitys but is a vigilante too. Thinking of him getting flirted on and the other's getting protective. Especially the younger siblings (Ex: Damian)
Oh Damian is going to kill them. Blade out and everything. Also, I think you thought about writing a himbo. Also, I don't know which gif to put so enjoy a storm lol.
Summary: (Y/N) is a bit stupid, but very nice. He is oblivious to a lot of stuff and his siblings are protective of him.
Warnings: (Y/N) is stupid and sweet at the same time, adorable (Y/N), protective everybody, especially Damian.
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Bruce often wondered how (Y/N) managed to survive for this long. Looks are often deceiving, he knows that very well. He always expected the unexpected and (Y/N) was certainly something of that sort. You know how you expect big people to be cold and just rude over all?
(Y/N) is sweet beyond belief and Bruce wonders how he survived for so long as a vigilante. But there is another problem too. (Y/N) sometimes has problems seeing when he is being flirted with and overall, sometimes slow with catching up.
What kind of scared Bruce was the fact that (Y/N) still didn't... Kind of... Connect the dots with their identities. Bruce often kept an eye out on (Y/N) during patrol or missions. Always. Everyone also kept an eye on their brother.
They all loved (Y/N) and they all just wanted to make sure that he is okay. He is far too adorable and kind for this world. That is a conclusion that everyone has reached. Even Damian. Damian is the one who is the most protective of him.
(Y/N) found a way to channel his kindness. Bruce helped him set up a few organizations to help the youth on the streets, homeless people in general and one for mental health problems.
Well, more (Y/N) and Tim. (Y/N) is the face of those charities and Tim has agreed to help out behind the scenes. He never minded doing it for his brother and it's for a good cause so he didn't mind to help with the financial stuff.
(Y/N) has tried to do it on his own, but he just hated paperwork. Bruce and Tim sympathized with (Y/N), knowing how paperwork could be shit. Tim loved working with (Y/N). More so than with Bruce. But Bruce will never know it.
(Y/N) is often considered by Gotham City as their baby on social media and he is famous because of it. Well, because of his kindness and other moments that social media would say is iconic. Gotham loved him and (Y/N) would often go in his vigilante suit to see little kids all year round in the hospitals in Gotham and sometimes elsewhere.
(Y/N) loved doing it and loved seeing kids smile. Some were just so beaten down that by being in a hospital and seeing them smile so much made (Y/N)'s day.
Damian is often considered as (Y/N)'s bodyguard on galas. Of course, there are many people who consider (Y/N) handsome. Unfortunately, (Y/N) can't see those advances and that's where Damian has stepped in. Always.
If (Y/N) is going to be in a relationship, it's going to be with someone who looks past his looks. Many who tried to woo him did so because of his looks. Not because of him and personality.
Damian often stepped in, making excuses for (Y/N) as to why he couldn't. And then the man would be met with an icy glare.
Now, the public loved (Y/N) even more when they saw how he treated women. How respectful he is... The female population of Gotham City have lost their minds. There was a viral moment where (Y/N) was seen giving his umbrella to a lady after a heavy rain started. He was soaked afterwards, but at least he did something nice.
There is a plethora of responses from men, but once (Y/N) came out as gay, those men weren't afraid of not getting anymore dates. The women of Gotham were sad, but there was nothing that they could do.
Dick and Jason were also protective of (Y/N), but not to the degree where Damian is. Nowhere near. But did they always keep an eye on him? Yes. That's their brother, how could they not. They loved him, but they knew that the couldn't protect him like Damian does.
Damian is on a whole another level.
Galas are often considered the most stress inducing thing that happens a few times a year. Nobody liked to attend galas in the family, not even Bruce, but they had to due to appearances they had to.
(Y/N) didn't mind it. Now, galas are often the time when Damian was vigilant around (Y/N). Bruce didn't say anything to Damian about being protective. In fact, it made Bruce happy, knowing that he didn't have to be constantly vigilant over (Y/N).
Damian is his second in command when it came to (Y/N)'s protection. Damian is often subtle in the way he is vigilant. Often. He never outright stood next to (Y/N), but he was always close enough to step in.
Always.
As of now, (Y/N) was making his way to the bar to get a drink. Damian watched him from the buffet table. He watched everyone else in the room, seeing if anyone was looking at (Y/N). And he did find someone.
He was looking at (Y/N) with something in his eyes that made Damian pissed. He knew that look very well and it wasn't to talk to (Y/N) about his charities. Damian waited for a moment to see if his suspicions are right.
And when was Damian wrong? Never.
He wanted to scoff at the predictability of these guys. They are really predictable. He watched for a moment more, but when he saw how the man smiled at his brother, it was go time. He swiftly put some food on the plate, (Y/N)'s favorite and quickly went to the bar where the two were.
" Hey (Y/N), here is some food that I know you love. " Damian said, bringing (Y/N)'s attention to himself.
" Oh really? Thanks Damian. "
" No problem and Bruce told me he needs to talk to you. " Damian said and quickly glanced at Bruce who nodded subtly.
" Oh? Well, I will talk to you later then. " (Y/N) said as he turned to his 'suitor' and then took the food that Damian brought and then walked off. The moment that (Y/N) couldn't see them, Damian glares at the man.
" I wouldn't try it if I were you. " Damian said as he glared at the man.
" And what is a kid like you going to do? " The man said and Damian had to smirk at the arrogance.
" I know who you are. I know that your father wants to make a deal with my father. And I can always put a word in about you. And let me tell you, father is very protective of (Y/N) and he is not going to like the fact that you are just trying to sleep with him. "
The man tried to defend himself, but deep down he knew that Damian was spot on.
" Now, I wouldn't really try to flirt with him anymore. Not to mention, there are 3 more brothers that will kick your ass in different ways if you try to. " Damian said as he walked off, trying not to smirk once more.
He can't smirk or (Y/N) will see something. Who said that galas could be boring when you can threaten your brother's suitors? Dick and Jason gave him a thumbs up from a far. Tim and Bruce shook their heads quietly. Damian walked up to (Y/N) and gave him a quick hug.
Nobody messes with (Y/N) Wayne. Nobody.
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iaure · 11 months
Text
𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶; 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢
𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝖔❜𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗
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𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2: 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 3: 𝔦 𝔠𝔬��𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔨, 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 4: 𝔰𝔞𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 CW: self-awareness, stalking, obsession, delusion, ptsd, mention of a brother's death, thoughts of kidnapping. Written in the third person. Use of Y/N. Spoilers for Spider-Man: Across The Spiderverse.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ heaven have mercy on my simple soul. we might have another dearest series on our hands, but for miguel. god. jesus. i made this in one (1) day. it's two am.
wc: 1.7k
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𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻❜𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝗿𝗺𝘀.
Miguel knew that feeling all too well. Gabriella faded away in his arms, a flash of technicolour and geometric shapes. An entire world, falling away and escaping from him, like grains of glass as fine as sand but still so colourful. That's what kept him moving. He never wanted someone to make the same mistake. But he was only a man. he couldn't be alone in the isolation of his own making forever. He built up those walls, praying he'd have the sense to never knock them down. But brick by brick, other people did. First was Jess. She was his friend, his sister in arms. Then Peter, then a thousand other faces and names and hearts and morals and everything that made Spider-Man, Spider-Man. They each took a brick, as though it was nothing. It was just by pure chance that she was the one to take that last brick. She was a new addition. Friendly, witty, quick on her feet. Just like everyone else. Another Spider in another place and another time. Another in a million, another clone, another warm body as fodder. But when Jess brought her to him, Miguel knew; she was one in a trillion.
She had stood next to Jess, firm, with a thousand yard stare like she'd been digging around Miguel's soul and yanking out her favourite bruises. Harrowing was a good word for it. Her estranged brother, a captain in the police, had died. She looked like she'd seen Hell. Fresh bruises, scarring, her suit torn in some places...and she stood tall.
"Spider-Woman, from Earth 7290. Also known as Y/N."
Jess spoke softly, a hand on Y/N's shoulder. Her breathing was steady but her eyes had glazed over, completely tapped out to the situation. Miguel felt his heart tug. He knew what it was like. Everyone did. Most Spiders were sad, upset, but she simply seemed...angry. Furious, even. Like if Miguel made a move towards her, she'd chew him up and spit him out. He'd seen people try to tame horses before, ones that would buck and kick and neigh until someone's leg was broken. It was like Jess was doing that. The one hand on Y/N's shoulder, keeping her in place.
"Miguel?" Jess spoke up, and he came out of his haze. "Are you listening?" "Yeah." He nodded, quietly clearing his throat. "Sure. Get her a watch." Jess shared a look with Y/N, one that he couldn't quite tell the reasoning behind, but the glance of her eyes was enough.
Spider-Woman of Earth 7290 took the last brick.
He'd see Y/N around, walking around the Spider Society and speaking with other Spiders. She seemed to hold that anger close to her heart, despite the other Spiders telling her that it'd get better over time. They'd healed, or got over it, or pushed it out of their mind. But not Y/N. She stayed mad. She stayed angry. Miguel understood that more than most. Mourning took time. So many had gotten over it after years. It wasn't fair to expect Y/N get it over it so fast. He didn't think so, anyway. After all, it was an anomaly that took her brother's life. A mistake. It had fallen off the proverbial map, but according to Jess, Y/N had 'handled it her own way'. Whatever that meant. Miguel didn't really care. All he worried about was her. Rather than just taking the brick off his walls, she smashed it in with a hammer and ran it over with a bulldozer. She had a wrecking ball to smash a single blue and red brick. And he hated it. Because what about Gabriella? What about his wife? Did their deaths mean nothing now? And how was this healthy? Granted, Miguel wasn't a healthy person. Not like that. But the sudden way his mind dedicated himself to her was absurd. Did it have to do with his DNA? With the spider mutation? Rapture? Mating season? There had to be an explanation. A cure.
But there was none.
Now, Miguel's mind was rotting away. He wished he could pry it open and take to it with tweezers, to prod out the parts that he hated. But his eyes lingered on you for a moment too long, and he knew he didn't stand much of a chance anymore. It was all Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. Even just the faint, passing scent of her was enough to drive him up a wall that very much shouldn't exist. Passing word of her wellbeing made him tune into conversations he was never part of. He began to develop a seventh sense: touch, hearing. sight, smell, taste, spidersense, and Y/Nsense.-the uncanny ability to know when she needed help. Trademarked, owned by Miguel O'Hara exclusively. Peter once teased him about how Miguel would suddenly jump up and scoot over to the cameras, checking in on Spider-Woman 7290.
The teasing didn't last long when given way to the severity of the situation.
Gradually, Miguel leaned into it. If he couldn't fight it, then join it. Revel in it. Let his eyes linger on her frame. Let his waking hours resort to thinking of her. Let him suffer. He deserved it. He began to follow Y/N around. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. And sometimes, Miguel would see enemies-a Vulture here, a Doc Ock there-and he'd help when she wasn't looking. Little favours here and there began cropping up. Getting her groceries. Taking care of her cat. Fiddling with the gas for the car of the one creep that kept following her around that was so sure she was Spider-Woman. Granted, the creep was right. But he didn't know that.
(He did. Love comes in many shapes and forms.)
Y/N never seemed to notice. She was off, battling her own demons and fighting the good fight in her own world. She was good and kind and still angry but she used that anger so well, and Miguel loved her for it. She burned with the anger of a thousand dying stars. She was everything. When Y/N would stop by the Spider Society, Miguel made sure to look good. Brush his hair, brush his fangs, make sure his eye bags weren't too obvious, or if they were, then they looked good. He was trying to get her to like him, after all. Check to make sure his suit didn't have any tears or holes. Because Y/N was gorgeous. She could drag herself in with her guts spilling out like roadkill and he'd still think she's the most beautiful thing to grace the multiverse.
The beauty of delusion, he supposed.
He was aware how delusional this was. He knew how absurd it was that he saw her and fell immediately. Was this what happened in fairy tales? Is this what Prince Charming felt when he saw Cinderella? The world completely spinning the moment there's even a hint of her? The complete dedication of his heart to this woman that barely acknowledged him...someone who would only glance his way if it was a requirement. Y/N was cordial to him, but little more. And it made his heart ache. She spoke to Jess more than she spoke to him. It felt wrong. It felt cruel, like a tease, trailing up and down his spine but never providing relief. One word to him was ten to Jess.
Miguel refuses to admit it, to accept that he was willing to stoop so low. But there was a brief moment where he thought about hurting Jess. Or getting her on some mission that would take forever. Breaking her bracelet when she least expected it so Y/N would have to come to him.
He'd never act on it. He was sure of that.
If there was one thing Miguel was proud of for himself, it was his restraint. He had the unparalleled ability to simply...hold off. Another day, he'd tell himself. Next time, he'd self-assure. Then another next time. Then another. Until heaven knows how many next times it's been, and he's aching for her to even look at him, but why won't she glance his way? Why was she so cold? He's done everything he could. Just look at him! For god's sake, just fucking look at him! That's all he wanted! Five minutes with your eyes on him, your undivided attention.
But no. Another day, he said. Next time.
But maybe he could simply...take Y/N away. Her world was inconsequential. It'd be easy to take care of any villains. He'd do it for her, single-handedly. She were everything. He could just keep her there, in his office, never allowed to leave. He could come back after a long mission to her loving arms, her warm embrace, flush to flush to flush to flush. He'd do unspeakable things just for her to trace the vague outline of his body with her eyes. If Y/N told him to kill, he'd do so without question anymore. Miguel barely had any control over himself.
The next time he saw her, it was while dealing with Miles. It was so much, all at once and never at all and undying and swarming his senses. It was so much that he didn't realise how much she'd been smiling at the two teenagers, how sweet her gaze got, the gentle touches and warm laughter and how Gwen and Miles looked up to her.
He didn't know Y/N had a soft spot for kids. And he found out most vividly when she was the first one to help Miles escape, blocking off what must've felt like half of the Spider Society with the same undying rage, now spent on protecting her new friend, the child she called such sweet things. That she saw as her own.
Miguel felt his heart shatter when he had to take her down. The way she fell into the floor, limp and dangling like she was nothing more than occupied space. His heart was wounded, wailing like a dying dog. She picked the newcomer, the anomaly, over him. Him, her one true love. Did it matter that she'd known it yet? No. It only mattered that she helped Miles escape.
Lord, he thought. I worry that love is violence.
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leviscolwill · 8 months
Text
ballroom extravaganza
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pairing: jude bellingham x f1 driver!reader
summary: you always hated arguing with jude, but even more so when you're about to race monaco's streets (wc: 1,7k)
req: jude bellingham x f1 related f!reader ! (driver if u can or js a driver’s relative) where they argue before a match/race that doesn’t go really well + she crashes/dnf or he gets rlly hurt in a match
contents: jude is jealous, reader drives for mclaren w lando (sorry oscar my beloved </3), possible racing inconstancies (i can't drive to save my life), reader crashes (nothing too bad happens tho), gasly slander sorryyyy, language ??, quite angsty but happy (&fluffy) ending i swear
note: i didn't want to make either jude or reader 'the bad guy™' so i hope i didn't side with one more than the other writing the argument part :| i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you enjoy reading it (lmk by rb and giving feedback !!). finally, thank you for requesting anon,, i hope you like it 🫶
now playing: ballroom extravaganza by dpr ian (moodswings in to order)
"i'm just saying, i don't like the way he looked at you when he said that"
"you're being ridiculous jude, he's my teammate and i've known him for years."
jude had always been the jealous type, and you never had any problem with this, until now. he tried to tell you how lando was flirting with you when that's really just how he communicated. sure, he was kinda flirty at times, but he knew you were in a relationship and never crossed any lines with you. but jealousy seemed to get the best of your boyfriend in that moment.
"that's not the point y/n, i'm a man and i know what he meant when he said he'll take you to this 'perfect seaside italian restaurant if your boyfriend won't'. and you just stood there laughing." his voice was louder now, and you hated it whenever jude screamed, especially when those screams were directed at you.
"you're delusional... he didn't imply anything with that, he was only joking." you tried to reason your boyfriend.
"i still don't like it, i'm not asking you to never talk to him again, just make it clear you're-"
"but he knows that jude! i talk about you all the time, let's be serious for a second, come on." you laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation you were in, 45 minutes before the monaco grand prix fighting with your boyfriend in your driver room, it was probably the last thing you should be doing on a track where your focus was the most important thing.
you were always grateful whenever jude made time to see you racing because you knew how packed his schedule was. but right now, he was the last person you needed to see given the circumstances.
"jude, please just leave, i'm sick of fighting."
"i'm not leaving, we're having this conversation whether you like it or not." he said in a calmer tone, but it was too late, the damage was done.
"well, you're in my room right now and i want you out. i need to focus and you're not exactly helping right now."
"but we need to talk it out, i don't want you to go while we're fighting." you would have sworn his voice broke a bit when he ended his sentence.
"maybe you shouldn't have picked a fight with me then! maybe you shouldn't be here at all actually..." you practically whisper the last part and you immediately regret the words that came out of your mouth, knowing well you didn't mean them.
"okay then..." jude quickly gets up and you can't help but look at your feet, you can almost feel the sad look on his face.
"i love you."
you wanted to say it back but he closed the door with a loud bang before you could mutter any sound.
the only thing jude left behind was the faint smell of his cologne for you to think about what just happened and not focus on your race at all.
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deep breaths. deep breaths were what you needed, you tried to shift your focus on your start, how you needed to get away from sainz, given how close he was to you. whenever your mind drifted off to the argument you had with jude, you found another thing to focus on before the race. the formation lap would start in a couple minutes, your focus needed to be on monaco's streets for at least an hour and a half, then you'll handle the rest later with jude, you always did.
the formation lap started and everything went perfectly well, you just had to wait for the red lights to turn off and you'll be gone, no more thinking, or overthinking.
"it's lights out and away we go in the streets of monaco."
perfect start, now you just had to race like you knew how to for 78 laps. nothing you couldn't do.
the first 46 laps went perfectly, you managed to overtake carlos' ferrari and pierre's alpine. everything went well, then you thought about jude, you knew he was probably still mad at you but you still hoped he was watching the race, waiting for you with papaya-coloured headphones. as your thoughts kept going you were about to get to the trickiest part of the circuit, mirabeau.
as your focus shifted back to your race, you forgot the most important thing, the biggest danger on track is the other drivers.
your brain barely had time to register the bright blue alpine trying to overtake you when there was clearly no space. next thing you knew, your head hit the cockpit. before you hit the wall at god knows what speed, you thought about how you didn't tell jude you loved him back, and how you hoped he was still aware of how much he meant to you in that moment.
pitch black, no sound at all, you couldn't feel anything for about thirty seconds because of the shock.
then everything came back. you felt the urge to move your legs around, they moved. perfect. then you felt like your position was unusual, you came to a conclusion on your own, your car was on its side. you didn't even get to think about getting out because you felt a horrible pain in your head, where it was hit you assumed.
and lastly, you saw the medics making sure you were okay, you moved your hand for them to understand the message. you were okay, they helped you out of the car, saying you would be taken to the infirmary.
you couldn't stop smiling, you felt terrible about the race and it was probably the biggest crash you ever experienced but everything was well, your family and friends saw you get out of the car safely, and you'd be able to tell jude you loved him. everything was well.
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you had to answer the medics questions that made you feel like a 4-year-old: "what's your name ? do you know which day of the week it is ?" you knew it was for safety reasons but you absolutely hated it.
jude opened the door in pure jude fashion, loudly. you almost stopped waiting for him at that point but he was here finally.
he didn't even talk to you, words weren't needed. he just held you really tight even though you were still on the, very uncomfortable, infirmary bed. you felt his arms that were holding onto you shake as he kissed your hair.
"you have no idea how fucking terrified i was y/n." while jude had been to a fair few races with you, he'd never seen any big crashes, let alone involving you. yes, you could only imagine how scary that must have been for him, feeling powerless over the situation, you knew it all too well. you felt that way when jude was injured and you were absolutely helpless, of course you never wished for your boyfriend to ever feel that way, but here you were.
"i love you." you felt like it was the first thing you should say right now. "so so so much. i'm sorry for not saying it earlier." jude looked at you as tears started to form in your eyes, he quickly wiped them away and kissed away the sudden wave of sadness surging through you.
"and i'm sorry for getting mad at you, i shouldn't even have told you about it before the race, it was-"
jude was cut short when someone knocked and opened the door quickly after. pierre came in with a sorry look on his face, you heard he dnf after he damaged his car. poor thing.
"y/n, are you okay? i'm sorry about-" he started rambling with a french accent.
"i'm fine don't worry, just... can we talk about it later? you can come to our motorhome, they make great coffee there i swear." you tried to joke to lighten up the atmosphere, but it was still as tense as before.
if looks could kill, gasly would have died right here the way your boyfriend eyed him in silence, his gaze following the driver on his way out.
"what a fucking dickhead. how is he driving a whole f1 car? even i would do a better job than him i swear..." your boyfriend's pettiness amused you, even more so knowing that boy couldn't ride a bike without scaring the life out of you.
his features visibly changed and you knew he wanted to talk your argument out, as you were both calmer about the situation. but he didn't get the chance to speak a word before lando opened the door.
"what did that french hooligan do to my favourite teammate? that was a barbarian try at overtaking really." you laughed at your teammate being dramatic, as always.
"i'm fine, i think gasly needs prescription glasses though, i don't know where he saw the space there but i'm okay."
once again, you felt jude's eyes burning holes in lando's skull as he went silent, he quickly took the hint and left.
you couldn't help but burst out laughing at jude when it was just you two in the room.
"you need to stop glaring at people like that."
"i just don't like him." you took his hand as he looked at you, his look much softer than the one he gave pierre and lando.
"i only want you. alright? it doesn't matter how lando views me, whether what you think is true. he will never be you." you told him stroking your thumb on the back of his hand.
"i know that, i was just mad at how he acted with you. i'm sorry about that. i trust you, 100%. i just don't like how comfortable he was making these comments y'know."
"i get that, i'll make my boundaries clear with him, okay? let's not fight over silly things like that anymore."
jude softly grabbed your jaw and kissed you, you could tell you both needed this talk, and this kiss, to clear the air.
you pull out of the kiss first, suddenly feeling the urge to annoy him.
"you know... you look good when you're jealous, i might try that more often..." jude faked a serious face.
"if attention was what you wanted, you just had to ask love." he joked as you playfully hit his arm.
"just no more leaving without saying 'i love you' alright?" he asks before quickly kissing your forehead.
"never again."
845 notes · View notes
nyrasproblm · 11 days
Text
The other woman
part 2 of 2
Aemond Targaryen x Targ!reader (sister-wife)
Summary: You discover that Aemond cheated on you with Alys Rivers.
Word Count: 1,3K
Warning: angst, cheating, labor, infant death, mourning, canonical typical incest.
note: If you want to be tagged in one of my taglists, fill out the form in this post! 🤍
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Things happened quickly. The maester and maids arrived quickly and you were soon lying on the bed, wallowing in your grief. The blood continued to run down your legs and formed a large pool on the sheets below you.
You were sweating freely and felt cold in some parts of your body, the stabs of pain were strong and came from time to time, making you squirm and let out anguished moans. You could hear the maester murmuring to one of your maids, they seemed equally distressed.
"This shouldn't happen, she is not even six moons pregnant." the older man muttered and the maid looked at you with a frown of sadness.
The other maids present were constantly wiping the sweat from your forehead and one of them was holding your hand tightly. Another wave of pain came suddenly and you moaned loudly, bending over a little, squeezing the maid's hand even tighter.
The maester hurried and approached the bed, taking a look between his spread legs, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and sadness.
"Push hard, princess." he instructed and you just opened your eyes that were squeezed tightly from the enormous pain. "When the pain comes, push hard."
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On the other side of the heavy doors of the birthing chamber, Aemond sat, staring at the fireplace, silently torturing himself. With every loud moan he heard, he clenched his fists tightly, knowing that it was his fault, he anticipated your birth.
Behind him, the tearful Queen Mother paced back and forth in anguish. Her voluminous red curls were loose, she was wearing a white silk dress. Murmuring nonsense things and placing her hands on her heart when he heard their cries of pain. The maester advised that no one other than necessary be in the birthing chamber and she was extremely worried about this.
"How did you allow yourself to do such a thing?" She turned to Aemond, who continued to stare into the fire. "Commit adultery, your own sister!"
She ran her hands over her face in a desperate movement, another anguish in her life. She couldn't survive if you died, the war was practically over and she praised the gods for having all her children still alive.
A loud scream was heard and she buried her face in her thin hands, distressing herself even more. She resumed pacing when the large doors opened. The maester came out looking haggard, he had a lot of blood on his hands and forearms, he looked up sadly at the two people in the room.
Aemond stood up quickly and walked in long strides towards the older man.
"What happened? How is she? What about the child?" he asked quickly and tried to look behind the maester, but the doors had already been closed again. "How is my wife? Why can't I see her?"
"The princess wishes to see her mother." he said, looking away at the queen, who sighed in relief.
Alicent hurried past the two men and entered, quickly closing the door behind her.
The one-eyed prince moved even closer to the maester and the older man sighed.
"I'm sorry, my prince." he said. "The child is stillborn, the appearance... is not the best. But the mother is alive, but weakened."
Aemond breathed a sigh of relief, then nodded and tried to pass by the man, who didn't allow it.
"What does that mean?"
"The princess does not wish you to enter, my prince, those are her orders." the poor man murmured.
"I am her husband and your regent, I want to see my wife now." Aemond lowered his voice, sounding threatening.
"My prince, I don't think this is the best thing to do right now..."
The doors opened a third time and Alicent came out, looking even more distressed, if that was possible. She walked over to Aemond and grabbed his forearms.
"Aemond... that is a punishment from the gods for your sins." she spoke softly. "Your sister and son paid for your sins."
He tried to break away from her to enter the birthing chamber, but his mother continued to hold him tightly.
"Leave her, don't try to come in, you've already done a lot." she said, looking irritated.
One of the maids came out carrying a small bundle of cloth in her hands.
'Your Grace." she handed the bundle to Alicent, who let go of Aemond and turned around, gently taking her grandchild in her arms. The maid bowed and entered the birthing chamber again, the maester following behind her.
Aemond's heart sank when she discovered the dead child's face. He took a deep breath and left there, walking strongly.
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The maester advised you to lie down for a week, but you felt like you could lie down forever. Seeing your baby's corpse motionless in your arms, without you being able to do anything for him, destroyed your heart.
Two weeks passed, and every day your maids came in with the message that Aemond came to see you, but you refused to let him enter. Your baby died because of him. The child's corpse had been burned a few days ago on a pyre, by the flames of Vhagar.
Today you managed to get up, your eldest son came accompanied by one of the maids. You opened your arms and he ran, you hugged him tightly and buried your face in his neck.
"My precious child." you murmured lovingly.
He stayed for a few minutes, then left again to take his classes.
You asked your maids for help getting dressed, a simple dress that wasn't tight, they fixed your hair and you sighed, sitting in one of the chairs near the fireplace. You closed your eyes in annoyance when one of the maids appeared to inform you that Aemond wanted to see you, again. You allowed him to enter but remained seated.
Aemond swallowed hard as he entered his chambers. It seemed dark, even with the candles lit. He felt his throat close up as he looked at you sitting up, your belly still swollen. He walked with uncertain steps and sat in the chair next to yours, remaining silent.
You sighed and ran your hands over your swollen, sagging belly, feeling your heart ache.
"Do you already realize what your actions caused?" you asked, voice low.
"Don't talk like that-" he practically begged.
"I want you to stay away from me, Aemond. I want you to keep your distance. I can't leave, but if I could, I would. And I would take my son, the one you didn't kill, away from you."
"You are my wife."
"It didn't matter when you slept with another woman."
Aemond got up from the chair and knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his, holding firmly when you tried to let go.
"After Alys has my son she will leave Harrenhal, I swear."
"Look what you're saying!"
"She'll leave and I'll never see her again." he continued, looking desperate. "There's only you for me."
"That's not going to happen." you let go of him and walked a few steps away. "I may be your wife in the records, but not in the cohabitation anymore. You are no longer my husband except in name, and I unfortunately cannot change the fact that you are my brother."
"My love, please."
"I will move my belongings to the other side of the Keep, I will remain as far away from you as possible, I do not want any contact unless it is on official matters. My son you will be able to continue seeing because I know that I cannot stop it." you smoothed the skirt of your dress.
You took a deep breath and left the chamber, leaving Aemond on his knees.
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itsshawtyfellas · 1 year
Text
Breaking in
Pairing: Charlie Walker x fem!reader
Warnings: angst, 18+ (mature content such as dom!charlie, sub!reader, dry humping, clit stimulation, oral, praise kink, degradation kink, mask kink, penetration)
A/N: ngl I'm a sucker for all of those charlie as a sub type of fics (I stand by that) but I believe that behind that mask charlie is a whole different person based on his murders. So I decided to write something about it because why not 😈 sit down and enjoy my little sluts (btw my obsession with this man is over the roof by now help) the gif is just to give you a little idea of how it will go further into the fic😉
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You didn't know how to feel.
Were you angry? Upset? Scared? Probably all of them.
You just couldn't believe it at first. You refused to believe your sweet, smart and funny boyfriend Charlie could do something like that.
You simply decided to go to Charlie's house after school to surprise him but when you got to his room you saw him taking off his ghostface costume that had droplets of blood in it. You confronted him about it, asking him if he was the one responsible for all the murders in Woodsboro so far and he didn't even bother to deny. He couldn't lie to you, so he admitted it, explaining the truth and reasoning behind it.
You were quiet the entire way back to your house and also inside it. Your mind went back to all the moments you had spent with him; the sweet ones, the sad ones, the intimate ones. As time went by, your thoughts made you realize how real it all was.
It's been only a couple of days since you walked out of his house and you still couldn't stop thinking about it. The rational side of your body kept telling you that you should inform the authorities; that meant reporting your boyfriend would not only make him stay in prison for a few good decades but it would also make you, as his girlfriend, an accomplice of his crimes since you knew the truth. Meanwhile, the emotional side of your body wanted you to hide the whole truth and run back into the kind arms of the love of your life. Whatever your decision was, you couldn't tell anyone about it.
Right as you mind wandered back to reality, you noticed the movie you had put on to distract yourself had ended, so you started to do some chores around your house, since you didn't want to think about it for a little while.
As you finished cleaning the kitchen, you went out for a few minutes to take out the trash, leaving the front door slightly ajar so you could go back in, but suddenly you felt eyes on you and a presence on your back. Turning around to go back inside, you quickly checked your surroundings to make sure you weren't being watched, scared you would be the next kill despite knowing Charlie would never do something to you.
The moment you turned around after closing your door, you came face to face with your boyfriend Charlie; except that he was wearing the ghostface costume and you gussed that he was either coming back from a kill or going for one. For brief seconds, the two of you just stood there in front of each other without saying a word. Every emotion and every thought that you were having and thinking earlier came back rushing to your heart and mind. Your own body was battling against your own, not knowing whether you should run away from him, to him or fight him; so you opted by asking him a simple but stupid question.
"Are you going to hurt me?" He didn't answer, only shaking his head.
"Then why are you here?"
"I wanted to see you." Those were his only words before going quiet again. He could tell you were feeling conflicted but he wasn't going to blame you.
"You could've called me." He took a step closer to you.
"I didn't know if you wanted to talk to me, much less see me."
He took another step towards you but you didn't back away. He kept coming closer and closer until he was right in front of you. Charlie lifted a hand to your face, caressing your cheek, feeling your skin heat up under his touch.
Not only was your skin hot, but your heart was almost popping out of your chest from how gently he was touching you. The way he was touching your face along with the way he was looking at you behind that mask was arousing you, even though you wanted to ignore it.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for putting you through this." His voice, soothing and calm as always, comforted you as he looked at your trembling form.
You had no words. Even after finding out he was the killer – ghostface– he still made you feel warm and fuzzy inside; you shouldn't but you couldn't help yourself, you still loved him and he was still your boyfriend.
"I didn't want you to find out this way, I swear I never meant to put you involved in this." Even though you couldn't see his face, you could still hear the plead in his voice.
"I was involved in all of this ever since you started murdering people knowing you and I were together and I could find out about it at any moment." You said, while stepping away from him, the anger and frustration showing through your voice. Charlie turned his head slightly away from the direction of your eyes knowing how upset you were. "At least show me your face and look at me if you're so sorry."
He was aware of how angry you were, so, like a soldier listening to his commander's orders, he turned his head back to you and brought his hand to his chin to take off his mask, his hair tied into a bun, all while looking into your eyes.
You stared at him; your eyes running all over his face, mostly remaining on his baby blue eyes, as if to remember every single detail of his angelic like features to assure yourself that he was still the same –which he was. If someone told you a few days ago that your boyfriend was the one who committed the murders, you wouldn't believe them and would've laughed in their face, telling them he would never do something like that, for he was far too sweet to kill people in such a brutal way, but right now, as you looked at him, you could only wish it wasn't true.
It didn't stop you though. It didn't stop your mind from reliving all those moments spent with him; it didn't stop your feelings from erupting into the surface everytime you thought of him; it didn't stop your heart from racing whenever you saw him; and it definitely didn't stop you from loving him.
You and Charlie kept eye contact with each other once no other words were exchanged. The silence surrounding your bodies in the living room was loud; you could even hear your light breaths and maybe even your heart ramming against your ribcage.
However, Charlie tried to make another move for the second time that day by walking slowly towards you. The stare in his eyes was so intense the arousal you felt before came back to your body, the tingling sensation lowering to your core. Without thinking, you took a step back as he kept walking towards you until you collided with the wall.
Your breathing got heavier as the air around you felt hot, the arousal only increasing more and more with the way Charlie was staring at you; what you didn't know was that he was doing it on purpose to rile you up. He loved to watch the way your chest rose up and down when he did something like this. It turned him on when he had some kind of control over you since it was unusual for him and when that happened he liked to enjoy it as much as he could.
"Do you still love me?" He asked with uncertainty.
"I don't know if I should." You answered out of spite despite wanting to say yes.
"Do you trust me?"
"I don't know if I should either."
No words were said after that. It wasn't that you didn't trust him or love him –you did, with your soul and life– but you wanted to see how the moment would go and how it would end. Would you lie to him and say you didn't want him anymore? Would you guys break up and never see each other again? Or would you confess your love and trust for him and keep it all a secret? Whatever way that conversation would go, your mind was set on not sending him to the authorities.
You were so distracted thinking about how it would all end, preparing yourself mentally and emotionally, that you didn't even notice Charlie's hand locking itself on your neck, right beneath your jawline, and leaning in to kiss you. Despite getting caught off guard, your body accepted the kiss with an eagerness never felt before.
As the kiss evolved, eventually turning into makeout session, all the doubts you were having before left your mind, the only thing remaining being the love and trust you had for him. A wave of emotions flooded your heart, making its palpitations increase, causing you to pull him closer to your body with your arms encircling around his neck.
To say he was surprised by your reaction was an understatement. Even though the love you had for one another was unconditional, he almost expected you to turn around and go straight to the police, but he was mostly relieved that you didn't. With that, he started to slowly and reluctantly slide his hands down your back, afraid you would stop him but decided to keep going when he felt you holding him even closer. Now feeling more secure and confident, he ran his hands over your waist and to your hips, pulling your pelvis against his when arousal started to rush into his body, going straight to his core.
"Do you want me?" He asked, pausing his actions.
"Yes." You didn't even hesitate to answer his question, the passion you were feeling mixing up with the physical contact only added more fervor into your veins. Right when you were about to carry on with the now heavy makeout session, Charlie stopped you by grabbing your wrist. Looking at him with a confused look in your face, you were about to ask him what was he doing when he suddenly took a step back. When he did this, your mind began to cloud itself with insecurities and second thoughts, in fear that he had regretted his decision; it almost made you prepare yourself for a heartbreak until you saw him kneeling down to grab his mask that he dropped earlier on the floor to put it back on.
"Charlie?" Without answer, he started to walk back to you, your body still pressed against the wall. Even when you couldn't see his face due to the mask, you could feel his eyes on you, watching you like a hawk. It made you feel nervous and a little scared but you kept telling yourself he wouldn't hurt you –after all you trusted him and you wanted him to know that.
Now standing in front of you again, Charlie tilted his head lightly, noticing the way your chest rose up and down due to your heavy breathing, your lips slightly parted and your eyes locked on his –or his mask.
At first, he thought about taking off the costume and let things flow between the two of you like they usually would, but now, as he stands in front you, watching the way your body reacted to him and his actions, he couldn't help but feel a sudden urge to take control, soon overtaken by a feeling of power, something he would mostly feel whenever he wore the ghostface costume for his kills. All of it only turned him on more.
You weren't far behind. If someone walked in on that moment and saw ghostface –or Charlie– in your living room cornering you against the wall, they would immediately think you were being attacked and would call the police –but that wasn't the case as the energy around the room shifted once again as your body heat increased and your heartbeat sped up as Charlie kept staring at you under that mask, causing you to feel just as aroused as he was.
Coming even closer until your bodies were touching, he grabbed your hips and pulled you close to him all over again, his hands then sliding down to your buttcheeks to bring your pelvis towards his to create some sort of friction. Noticing this, you circled your arms around his torso and buried your face in his neck, moving your hips against his clothed erection, while his hands held your ass helping your movements.
Not a single word other than each other's heavy breathing was exchanged as the two of you were humping your hips towards one another, at least not until one of his hands left your butt and you felt his fingertips going over the seam of your pajama pants, teasing you at first to arouse you even more and then going under your panties and to your pussy, using his middle and ring fingers to give you slow and light circles to your stimulated clit.
"C-Charlie..." You panted against his neck. The hand that was still holding your cheek, was brought to your chin, lifting your face from his neck in order to make you look at him, his head slightly tilted in a provoking way.
"What is it? Hmm? Does it feel good?" He asked, amusement oozing out of his voice as he kept touching your pussy.
"Y-Yes, yes, it feels s-so good." You stuttered, as you let your head fall on his shoulder.
"Yes, it does and you wanna know why? Because you're taking it like a good little slut, aren't you?" As he spoke, the words only got stuck in your throat as you felt your orgasm approaching, the only possible answers being the nods of your head and the shifting of your hips as he changed the speed of his fingers, going even faster to help you reach your peak.
"Shhh, I know, I know, there you go." He praised, his voice soft in your ear as the most earth shattering orgasm hit you, making your body tremble in his arms, the sounds of your erratic breathing only getting louder with each after shock, causing your shaking form to look like it just got a short circuit.
Charlie then removed his fingers from your underwear, wiping them on his costume without care and took a step back, giving you a minute to cool off before trying anything else. He was about to ask if you were okay but refrained himself from saying it when you suddenly brought your hands to his ankles, in an attempt to remove his costume, lifting it up and taking it off his body along with his shirt, leaving him with only his mask and jeans. As you were about to unbuckle his belt, Charlie suddenly held your hands, stopping your actions. You glanced up at him perplexed, questioning why would he stop you and wondering if he didn't want you to return the favor when all of a sudden you felt the weight of his palms on your shoulders, gently but firmly pressing on them to push you down on your knees.
"What? Isn't this what you want, hmm?" You could tell he asked it in a rhetoric way, using a taunting and condescending tone and smirking under his mask, whilst stroking your cheek and looking down at you, almost as if telling you you knew what to do. So, with little hesitation and excitement filling your body, you brought your hands to his belt loops, unbuckling them and then unbuttoning his pants, giving little kisses and licks on his firm abs and down his v-line, his hips going forward, towards your mouth as you tugged down his jeans along with his boxer briefs.
"Look at you, pretty little thing getting excited over my cock. You're such a fucking whore, aren't you, baby?" Charlie's words did nothing but arouse you even more, making you feel even more turned on to the point your own wetness was seeping through your panties.
Bringing his pants and boxers down to the middle of his thighs, you took a few seconds to admire him in all his glory, starting with his face –covered by the mask– and going down his naked torso, ending with his fully erected dick, standing long, hard and with a certain girth before grabbing his cock in your hand, kissing his underside and then wrapping your lips around his reddish tip, lightly sucking and swirling your tongue around it while using your hand to stroke him slowly and teasingly to excite him even more. You kept doing this for a while before Charlie got tired of your teasing and put a hand on the back of your upper neck and brought your head forward, taking off your hand so you could bob your head easily.
"Fuck, you're doing so good, it's like you were made to suck dick, weren't you? Maybe that's why you always look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, right? What would everyone say if they saw you right now on your knees in front of the so known ghostface, sucking him off like the dirty fucking slut you are, hmm? You'd love that, wouldn't you, baby?"
Your boyfriend's choice of words only made you move your head even faster, trying to make him reach his orgasm with his hand still at the back of your neck controlling your movements. All you could hear were his groans along with his irregular breathing as he rutted his hips against your mouth, feeling you squeeze your lips around him and running your tongue on the underside as he came and let the milky white substance fill the inside of your cheeks, watching you swallow it all.
As soon as he finished, Charlie grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet, your knees sore from being on the floor for too long, and, without saying a single word, bended your over the arm of your couch and pulled your pajama pants down, looking at the wetness of your pussy.
"God, you're so fucking wet, is this from sucking me off? Yeah? Do you want me to fuck you? Will you be a good girl and let me fuck you? Answer me or I'll make you fuck my shoe instead of me." He said, running his middle finger up and down your pussy, circling your clit every once in a while.
"Yes, y-yes, please fuck me, please..." You panted.
He didn't answer, simply pushing your head down and lifted your hips a little, making you arch your back, and started to rub the tip of his dick on your clitoris and then at your entrance, sliding in slowly to let you adjust to him before starting to move in a slow pace, soon speeding up the rhythm of his thrusts while paying attention to your light moans.
"Fucking hell, you're such a fucking whore, fucking a murderer in your living room when no one knows who and where he is, but you love it, don't you, darling?" The way Charlie was talking only added more fire to your veins and skin, making you try and push your hips back a little to meet his thrusts, when you felt his hands gripping your thighs and sliding up and around your hips, adding more force into his thrusts, only to bring a hand to the front of your body, towards your pussy, stroking your clit to bring you to the edge.
The house was so quiet that the sounds of skin slapping, erratic breathing, grunts and moans seemed loud on your ears but it only made the two of you more excited.
"Are you gonna cum? You want me to fill you up and stuff your pretty little pussy with my cum? Is that what you want? Cum for me then, c'mon, love, you can do it, cum." Charlie panted, his voice slightly baffled by the mask that he was still wearing.
"C-Cumming, cumming –fuck– I'm cumming..." You stuttered as you felt your legs starting to shake, feeling an orgasm coming to hit you body as you shivered, it being as strong and intense as an earthquake, feeling the spurts of cum painting the walls of your pussy, as Charlie came inside you.
After taking a few minutes to gather your breaths, Charlie pulled out of you and used his shirt to clean you up and pull up your pants after taking off his mask and buttoning his jeans. The two of you were staring at each other's eyes in silence before he decided to speak.
"I'm sorry. I really am." Those were his only words before looking at the floor, not being able to look you in the eye.
"It's okay, I love you and I still trust you with my life, and even when I shouldn't I won't report you."
"Thank you, I love you so much." Nothing else was said afterwards as you locked yourselves in a passionate kiss.
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A/N: Jesus fucking christ this took me DAYS but tbh I'm just happy that it's already done😁 well I just hope that you guys enjoy the reading🤭
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topguncortez · 3 months
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Maybe blurb from crying prompt idk if this would be a hide or hold maybe both? But the reader holds her emotions in during a family thing because she's the oldest sibling and she feels like she has to be strong because that's how her family was raised and then she gets a moment and they tell her to stop being strong and that it's okay to let it out. I'm thinking either Bradley or Jake?
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Hold My Hand - J. Seresin x Reader
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synopsis: you get a phone call that no child ever wants to get, and as the "rock" of the family, you aren't allowed to break.
warnings: parental death, trauma, parental abandonment, incorrect medical jargon, mental abuse, grief, depression
note: I know this was supposed to only be a blurb, but I started writing and I couldn't stop. These past 16 days have been hell and there was something about writing this that just felt so freeing, like the cloud hanging over me has finally been lifted.
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it had felt like a lifetime had passed, but in reality, it had only been 10 days.
10 days since that frightening phone call on that cold January day.
10 days since your mother called you, sound incoherent on the phone but you managed to gather the gist of it.
10 days since you had rushed out of your house, your hair half done, your husband chasing after you like you had lost your mind.
10 days since your father so bravely rushed into a burning building, saving other children and leaving you, your siblings and your mother behind.
You were angry, at first. Angry at the world for allowing this to happen. Angry at your father for playing superman when he was just a regular man. Angry at the other people standing around who didn’t have the same courage to run into the fire instead of standing by and yelling at your father to turn back. Angry that this was going to be the end; that your mother would be a widow at a young age, your youngest sisters wouldn’t have their father to walk them down the aisle, your children wouldn’t ever have another “grandpa day”, that you’d never get another hug and an “i love you” from your father again.
You wanted to cry. You wanted to shut out the world, force the cameras away, force the sorrowful looks from others away, force the heavy weight of your heart onto someone else.
But you couldn't. You had to be the strong one. For your mother. For your siblings. For your own children.
Jake had been watching you like a hawk since you had gotten that phone call. The morning started out like any other morning, with the two of you waking up before the sun was in the sky, making sure you had enough time to do a quick at-home workout and a run. You had been working on packing the kids' lunches when you got that call. He had to pry the keys out of your hands, telling you that your mother didn't need you and your father in the hospital.
Jake had eyed you the whole drive, noticing the redness and the unshed tears in your eyes. The way that you clutched the dainty silver cross around your neck between your fingers. The way that you sniffled every so often, trying to hold back the tears. But the second you stepped into the hospital, seeing the distressing look on your mother's face and the waiting room full of fellow firemen, you rolled your shoulders back and pushed back your own sadness and grief.
Those 10 days had been the best and worst of your life. You hardly left the hospital, unless Jake was physically forcing you to leave. You hardly ate, hardly slept, hardly took care of yourself. Your mind was so worried about everyone else except yourself. For 9 days, you had believed that maybe, just maybe, your father would pull through. But that all came crashing down on day 10, when your father's brain had swelled and his doctor's pronounced him brain dead.
"Y/N," Your mother had spoke, looking over at you as the doctor stood in front of your family. Jake shifted in his seat, putting his hand on your thigh, "You need to do it."
"What?"
"No," You and Jake spoke at the same time.
Your mother shook her head, "I can't be the one. . .," Tears clogged her throat, "I can't be the one who takes him-"
Jake scoffed, sitting up straight in his chair, his grip tightening on your thigh, "And you want your daughter to-"
"Jake," You sighed. There was no use in fighting. After all, you were the eldest. You knew eventually you would be the one who gets stuck making the medical choices for your parents. You just assumed you'd have more time to prepare. You rolled your shoulders back and looked at the doctor, "What do I need to sign?"
"It was such a lovely service," Your aunt Marjorie said, patting Jake's hand as he spoke to him. It was true, you had done a fantastic job planning a funeral for your father, all by yourself. Jake had helped you the best that he could, going with you to pick out a casket and a grave plot and music and flowers, "That Y/N was always Lee's favorite."
"I know," Jake gave Aunt Marjorie his best gentleman smile, the one that made his dimple pop out, "She's a special girl."
"Oh and how brave she was standing in front of everyone and speaking?" Aunt Marjorie placed her hand on her heart. Jake nodded his head, wishing that he could be anywhere else than in a conversation with Aunt Marjorie, "And that Miranda," Aunt Marjorie scoffed, looking over at where your mother sat stoic on the couch, "Looks like she's going to be the next to go."
Jake clenched his jaw, pulling his eyes away from your mother. He had his own thoughts and feelings about her, ones that he had shared with you one night during a heated fight.
"She has abandoned you!" Jake yelled, as you angrily pulled the blankets back on the bed. You were exhausted and just wanted to sleep in your bed for one night. You had managed to get your mother to stay with your father for the night, which was like pulling teeth, "You need her to be the parent and she's not."
"She is grieving too, Jake," You sighed.
"And you're not!?"
"I am," You ran a hand down your face, "I just handle it differently. I've always been the strong rock. The one who doesn't cry. The one who holds others when they cry," You sat down on the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion.
"And I know that, baby," Jake rounded the bed, and sat down beside you. He grabbed your hand, holding it in his own, "You are strong. You are incredibly fucking strong. . . but you shouldn't have to be the strong one right now. You shouldn't be the one pulling all nighters by your dad's side. You shouldn't be the one making medical decisions on your father's behalf. Even though you are an adult. . . Y/N, baby, you're still his child. Your mother should-"
"I don't want to have this conversation anymore," You pulled your hand away from Jake, "My mom isn't well, and she needs me to help her-"
"Bullshit," Jake scoffed, "She is abandoning you and you know it."
You clenched your jaw, holding back the anger radiating in your body. Jake held a tiny bit of hope that maybe, just maybe you'd lash out at him. That you'd show some type of emotion after being a near zombie these past 8 days. But instead, you stood up quietly and left the room, choosing to go sleep in your son's room instead.
Jake had drown out Aunt Marjorie's talking, his eyes landing on you across the room. You had opened up your home to your family, your father's fire crew, Jake's squad and friends for a meal and drinks following the funeral. You had done a great job at not falling apart during the service or the burial, but Jake could tell that the rope was starting to fray. And right now, it was about to snap as you were talking animatedly with your sister across the room in a small alcove.
"Hey, Aunt Marjorie," Jake turned back to look at the 80 year old woman, "It was lovely catching up with you, but I need to go help Y/N with something. We should do coffee some time."
"Oh yes, that'd be-"
"Great, see you later," Jake quickly made his way over to you, not bothering to hear the rest of Aunt Marjorie's response.
The last thing you wanted to do in a houseful of guests from your father's funeral, was get into an argument with your sister, but here you were. Claire was the baby of the family, the one who got away with the most. Your relationship with Claire was rocky, as the line between sister and mother-figure had gotten crossed while you were growing up. You wanted what was best for Claire, and sometimes that required extra tough love and parenting.
"You are high!" You exclaimed.
"I am not," Claire's voice was slightly slurred. Jake's nose scrunched up as he walked into the room, smelling the distinct scent of marijuana.
"My whole damn shed smells like marijuana, Claire," You crossed your arms over your chest, "This isn't like you. What is going on? Talk to me."
"Oh god," Claire rolled her eyes, "Here she goes again. Acting like my mother!"
"Well!" You scoffed, throwing your arms in the air. Jake stood behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. In the past couple days, you had shrugged off any sort of comfort that Jake offered you, but now, you welcomed it, "You smoked a joint before you walked into dad's funeral! Smoked another one in my shed, where your niece and nephew play. And don't even get me started on how you reeked like vod-"
"Y/N," Your mother's voice filled the air, making all three of you look towards her, "Let's not do this now."
"No," You shook your head, "Let's do this now. Your daughter is high. She smoked up in my garage and then walked into my house smelling like a dispensary."
Your mom looked over at your sister and then back at you. You felt a pang in your chest as you watched her silently side with your sister. The familiar burning sensation of tears prickled at your eyes and nose.
"She's grieving," Your mother simply answered.
You scoffed, "And who isn't?"
"Y/N,"
"Forget it," You shook your head, "It's nothing, it's fine. It's always fucking fine."
For the rest of the afternoon, you made yourself busy, staying far away from your mother and sister. Jake remained within arms reach of you, his presence comforting and not overbearing. You had finally sat down, and managed to get something in your stomach. It must've been evident on your face, but the guests had only said a couple words to you before going on their way. It took nearly four hours, but all the guests had left, filling your house with a silence you hadn't heard in nearly 10 days.
Jake had taken the burden of cleaning everything up, while you sat on the back porch, watching the sunset with a glass of wine in your hand. The cool San Diego winter breeze felt nice against your heated skin.
"The house is finally, back to normal," Jake announced as he walked out onto the back porch. Natasha had gratefully volunteered to take your children for the night, so you and Jake could decompress.
"Thank you, daddy," You smiled sweetly at him, as he sat down next to you on the porch swing.
"Of course, baby," He said, and held out a white gift box, "Someone left this for you."
You furrowed your eyebrows, taking the box from him and lifting the lid. Your breath caught in your throat as you lifted the small, gold pocket watch from the box.
"Y/N," Jake said softly.
You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, "I always wanted this," You ran your hand over the engraved hummingbird on the gold casing, "It was from my grandfather's jewelry store and it quit working. My dad said he was going to get it fixed and give it to me as a wedding gift, but he lost it. . . I-I don't know-"
"Well, does it work?" Jake asked.
You swallowed, opening the face of the watch open. To your surprise, it did work. The second hand ticked around in perfect time as the watch seemed to already be set to the correct time. The beautiful watch had a colorful humming bird painted onto the face in the middle of the black Roman numeral numbers, and gold watch hands.
"It's perf- oh, c'mon," You cursed, as the watch stopped ticking. You tapped the glass face a couple of times, trying to maybe, just maybe get it up and ticking, "C'mon! You just. . . worked! C'mon!"
"Baby," Jake spoke, gently placing his hand on your wrist.
"No! It has to work! It has to!"
"Baby, it's okay," Jake assured you, "It's o-"
"Nothing is okay!" You snapped, looking up at him as the tears had finally escaped your eyes, "Nothing about any of this is okay!" You pushed yourself up from the porch swing, rushing to the edge of the patio and throwing the watching across the yard with a scream. Jake closed his eyes as loud sobs escaped from your lugs, as the grief had finally seemed to rush to you.
He stood up from the porch swing and enveloped you in his arms. You sagged against him, feeling his arms tighten around you to be able to hold you up. Jake hushed you, placing a hand on the back of your head, and his chin on the top.
"Let it out, baby," Jake encouraged you, running a hand over your hair, "Let it all out, baby."
You weren't sure how long you stood there in Jake's arms and cried, but he eventually picked you up, after feeling your legs grow weak. He carried you through the house, to your shared bedroom, sitting you down gently on the bed. You didn't even need to tell him what to do as he moved through the bedroom with familiarity, grabbing you nightgown, taking you out of your dress, washing the make-up from your face and applying your moisturizer.
"What do you need from me, baby?" Jake asked, as he kneeled in front of you, sliding your socks on your feet.
"I don't know," Your voice was raspy as you looked at him confused, "I've never. . . I've never felt-"
"I know," Jake nodded his head, "I know you haven't, and it can be scary the first time you just. . . lose it all." Jake could remember the first time he had ever broken down like you had. It was terrifying as he cried and destroyed the things around him. It felt like it was never going to end as one thing after another had set him off, until he was on the ground in the fetal position, withering, "But it will all be okay. I'm here to help you. Let me help you."
You nodded your head, tears springing to your eyes again. Jake cooed, and pulled you into his arms again as the tears fell down your cheeks.
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thesoftboiledegg · 6 months
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"Unmortricken" was a lot. In fact, it might have been a little too much.
To start, I loved the glimpse of what exists outside the Central Finite Curve. The visuals were stunning and reminded me of M.C. Escher's drawings. The Jetson-like family was a nice touch--if anything can happen, who says they can't have different animation styles? All those colorful portals make me wonder what's lurking just out of sight.
It's also funny that the space outside the Curve is full of Rick's favorite thing: crystals. If he took a trip there, he'd come back with his pockets stuffed with gemstones.
Evil Morty's reappearance gave us a decent character study. Since he wasn't the antagonist, we saw him interact with the C-137s as a regular person. Morty's a little impressed, and Rick has a grudging respect for him. Others have called Evil Morty the Rickest Morty, and I agree: similar intelligence, similar technology and similar bloodthirst.
I was glad that he left in the end because that's what his character arc is about anyway. He doesn't want to be part of anyone else's story, not even another Morty's.
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However, that's also part of the issue that I had with this episode. Seeing Evil Morty was great, but it was also a little...pointless? You could've had the same story without him. He's not working with Prime, and he has no ties to C-137 after "Rickmurai Jack," so it felt like the writers just said "Hey, you know what would be cool?"
I'm not against writers having fun and giving the audience what they want. "Spider-Man: No Way Home" (yeah, groan at me, Marvel haters) is fan service in blockbuster form, and it was one of the best theater experiences I've ever had.
Still, if Evil Morty came back, I think he should've had a separate episode. The episode juggled C-137 Rick, Morty, Evil Morty and Prime Rick pretty well, giving them satisfying interactions with each other, but no Evil Morty would've meant more relationship development for the C-137s.
Evil Morty's backstory also didn't reveal much about him. I mean--yeah, we all figured that he had an abusive Rick and got fed up. The fact that he had a "regular" Rick instead of a deranged lunatic does make a point about the banality of abuse. Monsters aren't always raving maniacs who torture people in their basements. Ordinary people can wear you down with a slow drip of toxicity and neglect.
I enjoyed this episode, and Evil Morty's return was exciting, but cramming the series' two biggest antagonists and storylines into twenty minutes was a little overwhelming. New plot developments kept showing up, too: Rick found Prime! Prime's various lairs! Omega device! I would've preferred a two-parter.
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I'll admit that if you told me that we'd see Evil Morty and Rick Prime in the same shot, I never would have believed you, but here we are.
On that note, Prime's characterization was perfect. No attempt at a cutesy, sad backstory; he's a laughing monster until the end. And is it really the end? He has regeneration abilities, but C-137 acts like he's dead and even gives up the search. This leaves us with a few options:
C-137 killed him.
Prime fooled C-137 into thinking that he's dead when he isn't.
C-137's keeping him alive for later use.
Hopefully, this is more complicated than it looks because I'll be disappointed if this is the end of Prime. He's a brilliant reflection of C-137: the Rick he'd be without his tiny shred of humanity.
And Prime's a maniac, but he tells C-137 the truth. Rick broke into Prime's house. He pretended he belonged with this group of strangers. He latched on to Prime's grandson because he never had his own. His brutal, violent streak never went away no matter how long he tried to play house.
Prime says "Admit it! You would have been me!" In season three and parts of season four, Rick was close. His love for his family--love that he pretended he didn't have--and desire for their approval just barely pulled him back. But what kept that spark alive? How close was he to becoming a cold, unfeeling shell?
In the end, C-137's not satisfied after he destroys Prime--and weirdly, I'm not satisfied, either. Beating Prime to an unrecognizable pulp doesn't bring Rick's original family back. It doesn't erase the atrocities that Rick's committed. It doesn't make his grief go away. It doesn't change the fact that Rick teetered on the edge of turning into the monster that he despised.
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What's more satisfying is that Rick didn't turn out like Prime. His Morty doesn't give two shits about Prime, but he loves him. He hugs him in relief (come on, Rick, hug him back already!), cries out "Rick? Rick!" and shakes his body when he thinks he's dead, and talks excitedly as they return home.
Rick's going to therapy, which Prime would have mocked. He went from having nobody to living with FIVE kids if you count Morty and Summer. Even he and his Jerry are pretty tight.
Rick knows this, but he still feels empty all the time. Vengeance doesn't work, drinking doesn't work...wouldn't it be easier if he just switched off his humanity and laughed at everything, even his own death?
But now that he knows how it feels to be loved, especially by his hypothetical grandson, I think he'll always find himself at the Smiths' doorstep.
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